Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Titans or any other DC Comics affiliate
Infiltration
It had gotten colder out as the night wore on. A brisk wind swept in from the sea, blowing cold ocean air onto the shore line where they were huddled. Beast Boy had dragged Starfire and Robin away from downtown to a safer location. They were now under the east side of the Bay Bridge, taking shelter with some of the city homeless. Starfire was sitting in a hunched position against one of the cardboard lean-to's scattering the area, while Robin was sharing a fire barrel with four other people.
Beast Boy was staring out across the bay, looking at the Tower. Coast Guard vessels were running patrols around it while he could see the flashlights of police combing the beaches. He could also see the lights on in the living room, which meant they were inside as well. He sighed and turned around to go check on Robin.
"… And that is how I know the man keeps you all down," Robin was saying, gesturing wildly with his hands. "You see, I used to live with the man. He had all this money, which meant he had the power. But really, he wasn't all bad, you see, he used to-," Robin was cut short by Beast Boy slapping him on the shoulder.
"Dude, I think you've said enough for one night. Now say goodbye to these dudes and let's go."
The four other homeless men who had been listening the whole time had blank expressions on their faces. As Beast Boy lead Robin away, one man who was holding a liquor bottle in a brown paper bag looked first at the bottle, and then to his friend next to him, "Man, and I thought I sounded like a fool when I get tore up."
Beast Boy led Robin away from the crowd to a spot under the bridge where Starfire was sleeping. He let Robin down alongside the wall next to her. He mumbled a couple of things under his breath with his head flopping form side to side before he finally closed his eyes and promptly began to snore.
Seeing them both asleep, Beast Boy plopped down across from them and stared at the two for a couple of minutes.
"Ok, let me think, out of the five of us, one is imprisoned, another has lost her mind, and us three are out of commission," Beast Boy took a deep breath and let it out in a long sigh. He then slowly raised his head and closed his eyes. For a couple of seconds nothing happened. Then his eyes snapped open as his body began to slowly shrink and distort its natural form. He quickly closed them again as he put every ounce of concentration he had into morphing. His body continued to shrink, slowly feathers began to sprout, his face twisted as his nose began to grown into the beginning of a beak.
Then the process began to slow and then stopped for a second, right before he quickly changed back into his normal self in less than a second. He opened his eyes as he examined his body. He then sighed again and laid down on his back.
"Well, at least the affects seem to be wearing off, which means hopefully the same can be said for those two," he said as he looked at Robin and Starfire as they both snored through the night. "Maybe if by morning we are all back to our normal self's we can try to set things right. Yeah, then we can free Cyborg, help Raven and set our names straight! Dude, that's like the best idea I've had all day!"
By now Beast Boy had sat up and was wide eyed with enthusiasm. His joy was quickly cut short when he heard the homeless group who inhabited the area suddenly utter a series of whispers and then fall silent. Beast Boy, who was now more alert than ever, scanned the area until, he spotted a police boat slowly puttering up the shore line. An officer held a giant searchlight as he slowly scanned the shore with it.
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Officer O'Neil moved the beam of the searchlight over every single makeshift hut he saw, his eyes slowly following the beam. By now it was 2:30 in the morning, but he had just finished his third cup of coffee that night before setting out on patrol so he had no problem concentrating. His beam slowly moved over to where four homeless men huddled around a fire barrel, staring at him like a deer caught in the headlights. From there he moved his beam upwards towards the spot where the sloping concrete support of the overpass met with the steel support beams of the bridge itself. There were several huts made out of cardboard and plastic tarps up there. He moved the beam over them and was about to lower it when a bit of movement caught is eye. He quickly snapped the beam back to where he thought he saw what might have been a leg dart behind a hut. He shouted to the boat driver to kill the throttle and ease it towards the shore.
The boat's engine slowed and it gently drifted ashore the rocky ground with a scraping noise. O'Neil unsnapped the case containing his side-arm and pulled it out with one hand as he grabbed his mag-lite with his other. Seeing the officer come ashore, the homeless men instantly found something more important to do elsewhere and scattered. O'Neil ignored them as his eyes remained fixed to where he had seen the movement earlier. His pistol held before him with his flashlight cupped in his hand beneath it, he slowly crept forward. As he neared the hut where he had seen it, he slowly arced the weapon to the opening of the hut to make sure no one was inside. Seeing it was empty, he then quickly darted around the corner, fully expecting to see one of the fugitives huddled on the ground.
But there was nothing.
He was about to turn around and search the whole encampment when his partner on the boat yelled out to him. "Hey Chris! You done or what! There's no one there but a bunch of whino's, lets just rap up this stretch of shore so I can go home. Home to a warm bed and my wife, who will keep me even warmer. You can just toss on an electric blanket or something in that little apartment of yours."
O'Neil sighed as he lowered his flashlight and holstered his weapon. "Yeah, I suppose your right, guess being tired is starting to affect my judgment. Let's go."
"Now your talking. Don't worry, we'll catch those freaks. We already got the robot in custody. I heard their transporting him to a federal maximum security prison tonight incase some of his buddies might try and bust him out. It's only a matter of time before we find the rest."
"Yeah whatever, we'll see what happens. Say, you see the game last night?"
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By now Beast Boy's arms were begging to shake form the stress being put on them. He summoned all the will power he had to tough it out as he watched the police boat pull away from shore. From his vantage point in between the steel support beams of the highway, he had heard every word they had said. He had jumped up there and had held himself up by placing both his feet and hands against the two beams on each side of him. He had hidden both Starfire and Robin under a plastic tarp where they lay. Fortunately, neither of them had even woken up from the disturbance.
As soon as he heard the boat pull away and he thought he was out of hearing distance, he let go of the support beams and fell face down on the ground with a thud, making a sound like someone smashing a potato with a hammer. He lay there motionless, a stranger walking might have even mistaken him for a dead man, until after almost half a minute he let out a deep groan. He slowly raised his head and propped himself up on his elbows. He rested his head on one hand and drummed his fingers on the ground with another.
"Great," he muttered, "Now I have to find a way to bust Cyborg out of jail, tonight, on my own, and with no powers. Super."
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For being around two-thirty in the morning on a weeknight, there sure were a lot of people. A throng of the city's citizens had gathered outside the police station upon hearing about that arrest of Cyborg. Most of them were press, some were fans, admirers, or antagonists. Some had banners waving above their heads supporting their cause. Some read "Free Our Hero!", or "Let he who is without sin…", or on the opposite side of the spectrum, "Yank his battery out!".
Beast Boy nudged his way through the crowd trying to get a better look at the building. Those who looked at the stranger passing by would usually throw a second glance at the strange person before being caught back up in the events before them. Beast Boy felt foolish. He had snuck, or broke in to would be a more accurate description, his favorite costume store to obtain an appropriate disguise. The only remotely believable thing he could find was a khaki colored trench coat and a wide brimmed hat. He took some flesh colored face paint and smeared that on his exposed skin, and the hat sat low enough on his head to cover the tips of his ears. By time he was done he looked just like a detective out a nineteen fifties murder mystery, except he was two feet shorter.
He was now pushing his way through the crowd to the front door of the police station with a brief case in one hand. Despite his innermost feelings, he tried his hardest to express an air of confidence about him. He kept his head low so no one would look into his face and risk being recognized until finally he made it to the front where the police had set a up a barricade for crowd control.
There were several wooden barricades set up, and in front of those were even more uniformed police officers with looks on their face like they wouldn't mind ripping the throat out of any one who dared cross the line. Unfortunately for them, their bodies did not match their facial expressions. Most of them were overweight with big bushy mustaches on their faces and from the look in their eyes they had not gotten much sleep in a while.
Beast Boy paused for a second while he summoned up all his courage. He then took one big gulp and marched towards the nearest cop with an air of confidence. He stood right in front of him for several seconds without the cop noticing. Beast Boy then held his fist to his mouth and made a few coughs. The cop then slowly looked down at figure in front of him.
"What do you want?", he asked gruffly.
"I need to see the prisoner," Beast boy replied trying his hardest not to let his voice crack.
"Sorry, but visiting hours are over. Come back tomorrow morning at nine o'clock, go to the front desk and ask for Mrs. Reilly, she can help you," he replied as he turned his head away form Beast Boy and back to the crowd.
"I am not here to 'visit', officer…," Beast Boy squinted as he read the cop's name plate. "O'Neil, I am here to see to the proper handling of the prisoner known as Cyborg."
O'Neil turned his head back to look at the short figure in front of him, "Oh? How so kid? The only thing you look like you can properly handle is a water gun. Now go ahead and scram before I have to call your parents and tell them what a naughty little twerp you've been."
"Now you listen to me real good lard ass," Beast Boy said, actual anger rising up inside him. Now it looked like O'Neil was actually listening to him.
"I just got off a red eye flight from Los Angeles all the way to this miserable little city on orders from higher to oversee the transportation of one of your prisoners who was taken into custody earlier today. His name is Cyborg, and he is the property of STAR labs, which receives most of its funding from the federal government. That makes that freak on nature in their federal property, which by law requires handling and supervision by a federally licensed agent. In this case that would be me. Now, if you won't let me through, then that's fine, I can return in half a day with a swarm of FBI agents and a federal court order demanding what I have just asked of you. And by then you will have to explain to your boss why all of a sudden the entire station has been seized by federal agents all because you had the last jelly donut shoved all the way up your ass. Comprende senior?"
O'Neil looked dumbfounded and was struggling to say something. But before he could get anything out, Beast Boy went on.
"And by the way, the preferred term for people of my condition is 'little person', or 'midget', hell, anything is better than being called a kid. Christ, I'm thirty two. How old are you tubby?"
Again O'Neil was at a loss for words. Beast Boy then held up a hand and stopped any words that were about to come out of his mouth.
"I've got a better idea, how about you save yourself the embarrassment of saying whatever lame excuse your tiny little brain is trying to come up with and let me through, OK?"
O'Neil pause for a second, too a hard look at him, and then stepped aside.
"Thank you, I will be sure to tell your superior what a well mannered gentlemen you are. Good day officer O'Neil." And with that Beast Boy simply walked on through the barricade and up the steps of the station with an angry looking O'Neil glaring his back.
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If there was one thing Beast Boy had learned from watching too many movies, it was that if you walked around with an air of confidence about you, no one would stop to question you. Right now that was exactly what he was trying to do. He was taking giant strides down the hallways avoiding eye contact with everybody. He had no idea where he was going, but if he stopped or slowed down then that might blow his cover.
He was trying to follow the flow of people. He always went to the highest concentration of activity, which was leading him deeper and deeper into the interior of the precinct building. It seemed that he was headed for the prison cells located at the rear. To him this seemed like a logical place to look. His suspicion was all but confirmed when he got there and found the usual police officer replaced by fully armed SWAT team members at the entrance to the holding cells.
He had considered trying the same story on these guards that he had to get in the building, but figured they would be a bit harder to trick, he wasn't about to push his luck. He slowed down just long enough to locate the men's room off to one side. He then quickened his pace and sauntered on in.
It was not any different from any other restroom, several urinals lined the wall followed by some stalls. Beast Boy paused as he searched for what he was looking for. He saw it, above the third stall was the air vent which pumped a steady stream of air into the room to maintain the temperature. Fortunately, the stall was empty and Beast Boy walked in, locking the door behind him. Putting the brief case on the floor, he took off his over coat and wiped off the makeup on his face. He then morphed into a fly and with a soft buzz, flew up through the vents and into the air duct. Once through the vent, he changed back into his usual form and waited until everybody had left the room. He then quickly pushed the grill open from the inside and leapt back down to grab his brief case. He tossed it up into the duct and once again morphed into a fly and followed suite. Once back inside, he carefully closed the vent behind him and observed his surroundings.
Contrary to what he had seen in the movies, an air duct is much dirtier than what he had expected. Usually in all the good spy movies they are constructed out of shinny aluminum and can allow a full grown man to easily crawl through them on all fours. In real life however they were quite different. Years worth of dust and dirt, hair, loose insulation, dead bugs, and other debris littered the passageway. It was just barely large enough for someone of his size to crawl through on his stomach, made all the more unpleasant by having to force his way through the dust and mouse droppings.
Normally he would morph into a mouse, but he had to take the brief case with him. Meaning he had to stay in his human from, flat on his stomach, pushing the briefcase in front of him all the way. He had no idea where he was going, he just started heading in the general direction of the holding cells. He would stop at every vent and look into the room to see where he was. There were no air vents in the cells themselves, but there were in the hallway outside of them. Beast Boy would pause just long enough to glance out and determine where he was by the type of cells. So far he had passed four vents and all the cell doors looked the same. On vent number five he paused as he looked closer at the cell beneath him.
Instead of the usual single cop, there were more armed SWAT members in front of a steel-reinforced door.
"Bingo," he thought to himself.
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Author's note:
Sorry for the abrupt end, but I would like to apologize for two things:
a.- The incredibly long delay in this update (what can I say, I've been busy), and
b.- The sad and unfortunate termination of this story.
The reason being is that I am being deployed to Iraq and something tells me that writing fan fiction will be a hobby that is hard to do in a combat zone. So thanks to my readers, hope you enjoyed it so far, and sorry to leave you hanging like this. You can use your imagination to complete the rest or maybe in another year and a half or so I will finish it.
Before I go though there is one thing I want to say. While watching season 5 I noticed the parallel between plots, all the bad guys united. You may have noticed that my story carries a similar plot. For those of you thinking I am un-original in my story lines, I have five words.
I THOUGHT OF IT FIRST!
I started writing this before season 5 aired. If anything, the writers for the show copied it off me, I should be getting royalties for this stuff.
That's all folks, good night and god bless.
-Duke402
