Chapter 3: Termination

Tim motioned toward his bag. He pulled his Red Robin costume out, preparing for the night ahead of him. He knew he had to put on a show in order to get the attention of N.O.W.H.E.R.E. He was only hoping that they would take him in alive. He had been a thorn in their side for a while now and he knew that could come back to bite. He still had faith that with the impression he made on the shady organization, he would be taken in alive.

"Tim, this is insane!" Cassie said.

"Yeah, man. They are seriously going to kill you." Bart added.

"I'll take my chances." Tim replied as he slid his cowl over his face. He walked over the gadget rack on the wall. He took a communicator and walked over to Cassie.

"Here take this. It's a communicator that doubles as a tracking device. Once I activate it, you'll be able to know where I am. Once I'm in, and do what I need to do, I'll signal you to come and break me out."

"Don't do this. We can find another way to get in without getting yourself killed." She said.

"Look. This is the only option I can think of. I need you to trust me on this all right Cassie? I'll be fine."

Tim walked toward a batcycle and clicked his communicator on. He got on the bike and was about to put on his helmet when he felt Cassie's hand touch his shoulder. He turned to look at her and saw fear in her eyes.

"Be careful." She said.

Tim put his helmet on and reeved up the engine. He pressed a button on the helmet, and suddenly, the back wall of the bunker opened up, revealing a tunnel. He reeved the bike once more and speed towards the tunnel. Cassie and Bart silently watched as the wall behind him closed.

"What now?" Bart asked.

"We make sure he doesn't die."

Tim perched himself on top of an apartment building as he looked out towards the city street. San Francisco was a very odd place for him, as he had only been there a few times. This city was so foreign to him. Gotham was his home for the longest time. The Gotham streets were ingrained in his mind, as night after night he was out solving crimes and dealing with the criminal element that was synonymous with that city. San Francisco on the other hand actually looked peaceful. That is, compared to Gotham.

He flipped up the screen on his wrist and monitored the area for any crimes that were happening near by. He scanned the police communicators to find that there was a robbery at a liquor store 2 blocks from where he was. The suspects were seen leaving in a beat up getaway car and heading towards his direction. He lifted himself up from the perched position and pulled out his grappling hook. He shot it at a ledge and swung. The wind roared in his ears as he got closer and closer to the ground. Suddenly, he released the grappling cable and readied himself for a fierce landing. Feels like Gotham, he thought.

Tim slammed on the roof of the getaway car, feeling a slight twitch on the right side of his chest. Probably bruised a rib, he thought to himself. After all, he was only human. Tim grasped at the edges of the car, as to not fall off due to the turbulent driving. With his left hand, he punched through the window on the driver's side. He tossed in a smoke pellet to disorient the driver. He then proceeded to reach in through the driver's side window to access the steering wheel. Tim jerked the wheel towards the left and steered the car into lamppost. Before it could crash, Tim tumbled off of the roof of the car, and rolled on the hard pavement. As the car came to a violent crash, Tim lifted himself off the ground and made his way toward the car.

"Hey guys, next time pick a better getaway car. This is a piece of crap."

"Ughhh…." The robber replied.

Suddenly, a helicopter flew in from behind a nearby apartment building. Tim looked closely at the helicopter, revealing it to be military grade. Not a news copter. This is them, he thought. A few ropes fell down from the helicopter, followed by agents in blue masks. Ten agents repelled from the helicopter, followed by a man in blue and orange armor. Tim didn't recognize the man, as he followed the other agents down the rope. The armored man's facemask wasn't like the others. Half of his mask was orange and the other half was dark blue. It seemed he only had one eye slit on the orange side to see out of. He carried a large sword on his back, and was equipped with multiple guns and knives. He was much bigger and bulkier than the other agents. His mask and armor looked to be battle damaged, as it appears that the man had seen many fights in his time as an agent.

"Stand down. This kid's mine." He told the other agents.

Tim readied his bo staff to take on this new threat. "Come and get me then" Tim replied.

"How cute. A bo staff. You're in the playoffs now kid. Need to bring a bigger game then that." The man said.

The man pulled out his sword and slashed at Tim's head. He ducked in time, and thrust his staff into the man's abdomen. To Tim's surprise, the man caught the staff before it could hit him. He swung his sword down, cutting the staff in two. The man turned and proceeded to deliver a fierce roundhouse kick. The man's boot landed right on Tim's jaw. Tim fell to the ground in a flux of pain.

"Uh oh…"Tim murmured.

-One Hour Ago-

"What now?" Bart asked.

"We make sure he doesn't die." Cassie responded.

"And how do we do that?"

"He activated his communicator before he left. We follow him to where he's going to be and watch his back. We make sure that they take him alive."

"Yeah that's probably a good idea. Sounds like a plan." He said.

"We have to stay hidden though. We can't tip him or N.O.W.H.E.R.E off."

"N.O.W.H.E.R.E is such a stupid name. What does that even stand for? Might as well have just called themselves 'the evil guys who like to be mysterious and…."

"Flash, focus. Let's go find Tim." She interrupted.

"Yeah, good deal."

Cassie and Bart followed the path toward Tim. They decided to keep to the rooftops as to not get noticed. Cassie was worried for Tim. She didn't want him to get hurt. She owed him for the rescue at the mall. She wanted to act tough and confident, but she knew she had no clue what she was doing then. If it weren't for Tim, the N.O.W.H.E.R.E agents would have abducted her. Cassie hoped that if the situation came up, she would be able to return the favor. But it was different this time. She knew that Tim getting himself caught was a foolish thing to do, but she went along with it anyway. The only thing that she could do now is to make sure things go smoothly.

"Hey, I got a lock on him on this tracker device thing." Bart said.

"Where is he?"

"It says he's a couple blocks away." He replied.

As soon as Bart spoke, they both heard a sudden crash. Cassie grabbed Bart by the hand and flew towards the crash site. They landed on a nearby building, witnessing Tim confronting the robbers.

"For a guy without powers, the dude sure can handle himself." Bart commented as he observed the damage Tim dealt to the robbers.

"Wait, hold on. There's a helicopter coming. Doesn't look like a news copter though. Must be them."

A few moments later, they saw the agents repel down from the helicopter, along with a big brute of an agent, who looked odd among the others. They noticed he was equipped with more weapons. His mask was different too. Instead of the normal blue mask, it was half blue and half orange.

"Who is that guy?" Cassie asked.

"I don't know. But I got a feeling he's not from News Channel One."

Tim grabbed the two broken pieces of his bo staff and lifted himself off of the ground. He knew he could manage with what he had, as Nightwing had trained him to use escrima sticks before. Tim readied himself in a fighting stance, as did his opponent. He stared at the man for a quick second, determining any noticeable weaknesses. He noticed the armor the man was wearing and figured it would slow him down. He also only had one eye slit to see out of on his left side. Keep to the right. Use his weight against him. Hit between the armored plates, he thought as his quick second ran out.

The man dashed towards Tim with his sword slashing downwards. Tim sidestepped the attack and motion toward the man's right side. Before he could take his advantage, the man stepped toward his left, turned his body, and swiftly elbowed him in the chest, knocking him back. Tim felt the pain surge, as the bruised rib he acquired early had come back to punish him. He dropped the staff in his left hand and grasped his chest. It was getting harder for him to breathe.

"You assumed staying to my right would benefit you. Well that was a good observation. Just like the one I made about you. You were hunching toward you right, which I assumed was because of a cracked rib." The man said.

Cassie and Bart were watching from the roof of the building near by. They both witnessed the strength and brutality of this man. Cassie realized that Tim was in serious trouble.

"I'm going in." Cassie said.

"No, that's not the plan. Tim told us to stay out of it." Bart said.

"He's going to get killed down there." She said with sincerity flowing in her voice.

"He can handle it."

Tim regained himself. He threw a flashbang pellet to the ground to try and disorient his foe. He jumped in the air and motioned for a butterfly kick. The man ducked out of the way and swung his sword. Tim weaved out and thrust his staff towards his foe's face. The bo staff made contact, but the main regained himself quickly, while back kicking the staff out of Tim's hands. Tim quickly grabbed a few of his batarangs and threw them in his direction. The man swiftly brought his sword up in time to deflect the batarangs aimed at his chest. The man then lunged towards Tim and swung his body in a 360-degree circle and slashed at Tim's chest. He then spun around again, and this time, hit Tim in the chest with the hilt of his sword.

Cassie rushed to Bart and grabbed the communicator out of his hands.

"Tim!" she shouted into the communicator.

Tim felt his rib crack under the pressure of the hit. He fell to his knees, grasping at his chest. The now broken rib made it ever more harder to breathe. He lifted his hand from his chest to see the bright red of his blood flowing down from his glove. The slash on his chest stung like nothing else he had ever endured. Tim lifted his head up to look at the man.

"Who are you?" Tim asked.

"Deathstroke." The man replied. "And I'm here to kill you."

Deathstroke then kneed Tim in the face, forcing him to the ground. He then grabbed his neck and pulled him up to face him. Deathstroke looked at Tim for a split second, and then preceded to headbutt him in the head. He walked towards a nearby wall of a building and slammed Tim up against it. He punched him in the face, in the abdomen, and finally in the chest one last time. Tim fell to the ground in agonizing pain. He spat up blood and cocked his head back, looking at the one eyed masked man. He felt himself on the verge of blacking out. He was about to slip away when he heard Cassie's voice on the communicator. Her voice jolted him back into consciousness. He looked back up at Deathstroke and tried to lift himself up, but couldn't bring himself to do it. His broken ribs and the subsequent beating took the fight out of him.

Cassie ran towards the edge of the building, readying herself to fly in and help Tim. Bart rushed towards her and grabbed her by the hand.

"Wait. Look." He exclaimed.

Deathstroke lifted his sword and was about to thrust it into Tim's chest, when another agent came up and interrupted. Deathstroke turned to look at the agent.

"Just got the call. Westbrook wants him alive." The agent said.

Deathstroke then turned back to look at Tim, pausing for a moment. He then lowered his blade. He flipped the sword toward the hilt, and smacked Tim in the head with it, knocking him unconscious.

An image of a girl appeared in Tim's mind. He couldn't focus on her, as she looked distorted and blurred. The girl was turned away from him, facing the opposite direction. He could only make out her flowing blonde hair. It was lush and beautiful. He heard faint voices in the background, but couldn't distinguish what the girl was saying. The background changed from pitch black to a bluish hue with a trace of orange. The girl appeared to be walking away from him. He motioned closer, but the girl was still blurred. However, the voices became louder and more focused in his mind, but he still couldn't make out what the girl was saying. He heard another voice as well, a man's voice. A voice he had heard recently. He couldn't put the voice to a face, but he recognized it.

He hurried closer to the girl, but no matter how far Tim thought he moved, he could never reach her blurred visage. Although the girl was still blurred, the background became more distinct. Half of what he saw was blue, and the other half turned orange, with the girl standing in the middle. The man's voice became louder as he got closer. Tim could slightly make out the words.

"Dea…." He heard.

He got closer and closer to the girl. He felt like he was sprinting toward her. All the while, the man's voice got richer and clearer.

"Death…" He heard again.

He felt like he was mere feet away from the girl. Her voice was now getting stronger as well, although he was unable to hear what she was saying. He reached out his hand and grabbed the girl on the shoulder. He turned her around only to see the mask of Deathstroke covering her face. He heard the man's voice speak softly, "Deathstroke." He stared at the girl's masked face, as the girl shouted, "Tim!"

Tim woke up startled. A bright light blurred his vision. He could see exactly where he was, but he felt that his hands were locked in cuffs. Once his vision recovered, he saw himself in a white cell. The door to the cell was made of thick green lasers. He looked up at the ceiling and saw what looked like heat lamps attached. Power dampeners, he thought. He looked down at his hands, revealing huge metal bracers over his wrists. They weren't the ordinary set of handcuffs, but he figured he could still break his way out of them. Thankfully he still had his costume on. Even though they probably took most of my gear, they didn't take everything, he thought. He kept a secret lock pick in his glove at all times, in case of emergencies like this. He was about to pull it out, when he heard someone coming down the hall. He sat back and waited for someone to come.

"Hello, Red Robin." A man in a lab coat said. "My name is Dr. Westbrook. It's nice to finally meet you. You know, you've been an incredible pain to me and my project for quite some time now."

"I'm glad." Tim replied.

"Oh you shouldn't be. See, it was my previous intention for Deathstroke to kill you, as to stop this obsessive detriment to my project. But, I reconsidered. Seeing you as the tough, young fighter, I found a better way to handle the situation."

"And what way is that? You're going to experiment on me? You're going to study me? Find out what makes me tick?"

"Oh, no. See I've studied you for quite some time, already. You were once the former Robin, partner of the great Batman. You have substantial hand-to-hand combat skills and you certainly are quite the detective. But, frankly, you quite bore me. See, I only find interest in those who demonstrate a kind of…uniqueness." Westbrook said.

"You mean people with powers?" Tim asked.

"Yes, but more specifically, those with a meta-gene. These day's, so called superheroes are popping up everywhere. Ever since Superman, we have been living in a golden age of heroism. I find it quite fascinating how everyday, normal human beings are becoming less and less relevant. We humans are becoming obsolete. These new found gods are claiming to save us with all their might and glory, but in reality are stepping on us like ants to a boot. That is why I do what I do. I would like to even the playing field."

"So you kidnap kids? In order to what, study them and extract their powers for you're benefit?"

"You are smart. See, the thing is, we might have an army, but they have the weapons of mass destruction. These gods have all the power in the world at their fingertips. Why shouldn't man have the same odds? I think I am bringing some stability to the world. By creating our own army of superhumans, we will be able to stand up to the likes of Superman and the Justice League."

"Why kids? Why not just go after the big fish?" Tim asked.

"A teenager, such as yourself, should know how adaptive and manipulative your kind truly are. In this period of your lives, you have such potential for something great. I simply took advantage of this precious stage in life and used it for the basis of my research. I take out what gifts your generation provides, and I use them in my research. Take Superboy for example."

A boy walked up next to the doctor. He was tall with dark hair and looked strikingly like Superman. He wore a black costume with streaks of red, and a red 'S' shield on his chest. He stood next to Westbrook, with his red eyes glaring, and an emotionless face aimed straight at Tim.

"Robin, meet the future."