Chapter 8

"Something's missing," Bruce mumbled as he stepped into the office and looked at the scattered mess. Dick stepped around Bruce, his foot falling light as he stepped towards the safe. The Police had finished their initial evidence collection last night, since then they'd sealed the building and wrapped the whole thing over in yellow and black crime scene tape.

Nightwing and Batman had run into Commissioner Gordon earlier that evening. And he'd more or less given them his blessing, at least by Gordon standards. The poor man looked like he could use a couple of good night's rest.

"Whoever Red is. There was something they wanted in this room. Something that will probably help them get at Black Mask. It's the forty casualties that are the real mystery. Was that a calculated hit at Black Mask or an unintended consequence?" Bruce was in full-on detective mode tonight. He was closely inspecting everything in all of the desk drawers from the smallest pencil to the old binders discarded on the floor.

"It could be a hit at the Mask. Forty people dead is a little much for unintended consequences. Even Slade wouldn't do something like that and he's got the skills to do it. This seems more like Red is out here trying to start a gang war." And wasn't that just some Gotham level logic right there? Dick sighed as he began to comb the opposite side of the room. Thankfully there were no bodies in this room so he didn't have to look out for chalk outlines on the floor.

"Deathstroke would consider something like this sloppy. Currently, Red's motivations remain unclear." Bruce reasoned as he snapped a few pictures and sent them to Oracle for analysis.

"Are you thinking he's a meta?" Dick pried, when Bruce got like this he was worse at communicating than usual, it was like pulling teeth to get speculation out of him. It was a good thing Dick had so many years of practice. All of Dick's work with the Titans had him wanting to call meta. The mess had all the hallmarks of some new up and coming meta. The inability to keep a low profile, the messiness, the blatant unexplainable way the men were killed.

"Perhaps. The killing method shifted dramatically according to the autopsy reports. Some victims were shot, the entrance and exit wounds suggest that the killer knew what they were doing. Others… well they're more reminiscent of Killer Croc, they're animalistic."

"Could be someone like Zsasz, maybe the killer is shifting their methods."

Bruce hummed but kept his careful rummaging.

Dick sighed and stepped closer to the damaged safe. He whistled as he looked at the hinges, "Look at this B, definitely putting my money or meta. The door was completely ripped off." Behind the door the safe was empty whoever Red was; it seemed like he'd got what he came here for.

Batman swept across the room to get a closer look. Dick snapped a couple of pictures and sent them to Oracle along with the brand and make of the safe. It would take Barbara no time at all to tell them exactly how much force it would take to compromise the door like this.

"The killer missed something," Bruce murmured, taking a knee. His cape stretched behind him as he reached behind the safe.

Dick furrowed his brows, "What do you mean?"

Bruce pushed his fingers into the wall, and there was a small click as a panel popped out. Dick's eyes widened. It was a real-life secret compartment. Inside was a manilla folder and a flash drive. It was no wonder the police had missed this. Bruce took both, "Oracle I'm sending you data right now." He carefully slid the USB into his palm computer. The stick lit up blue and Oracle's robotic voice sent back a confirmation that she had received it.

Dick stepped closer to look over Bruce's shoulder as he opened the folder. All that was inside were pictures of three cylinders about two feet in length and eight inches wide. They had some sort of thick liquid in them, one was black, one was a deep maroon, and the last was bright red. Bruce flipped past them and onto the pages of notes behind them. There were two columns of numbers, with no sort of labeling. It looked like some sort of log, the question was for what. The canisters could be anything from a new type of fear toxin to a chemical weapon. Dick grimaced, this wasn't good whatever Black Mask was up to this didn't bode well at all. The only good thing is that Red had missed this in his initial break-in.

"Nightwing, Batman," Oracles clipped robotic voice sparked through their coms, "There's action happening at the docks."

Dick shared a look with his mentor. Bruce stands, tucking the files under his arm as he heads for the door. They'll deal with this and get to the bottom of what Black Mask is plotting.

The clanks of the distant cranes loading ships provide the soundtrack to the docks late at night. The backdrop of Gotham's skyscrapers on one side and the blackness of the harbor on the other was almost surreal. Like staring off the edge of the world.

Look at Big Bad Red Riding Hood being a poet. Venom cackled. Jason could feel him pulse and slither up his arm. He still wasn't sure exactly what the motion meant only that Venom seemed to be doing it more frequently since their joint effort at the paper supply company. If he didn't know any better he would think Venom was doing it in an effort to be friendly.

Jason sighed and took another drag on his cigarette with the smoke he breathed out the words to one of his favorite poems, "I wander thro' each charter'd street, Near where the charter'd Thames does flow. And mark in every face I meet Marks of weakness, marks of woe."

That one sounded better. Do more like that.

"That was William Blake and if all you're going to do is criticize what should be my own inner thoughts. I'd like to see you try your hand at poetry. Give me a fuckin' haiku or something."

The squeal of tires peeling out and the revving of an engine breaks the squabble. Jason hones in on the sound from his position atop a metal shipping crate. He turns his binoculars to follow the action. There's a flash of a black cape on the corner of a truck and he stands up. Looks like it's showtime. Venom's attempts at poetry will have to wait.

Dick ran along the shipping crates while Bruce, as impatient as ever, used a grappling line and some spikes to stop the truck. There was a loud pop as the tires burst and the truck skidded the driver frantically twisted the wheel trying to regain control. It swerved smoke rose from the burning tires as the brakes screeched. The back door of the truck flew open and a silver crate flew in the opposite direction.

The truck slammed into the corner of a shipping crate and the engine made a horrid hissing noise. Dick made a move closer. That sound could only mean one thing: an impending explosion. The driver was still pinned into his seat by the angle of the crash. The door was contorted and there was no way the driver could make his exit that way.

Dick didn't make it more than a few feet closer when the glass shattered as Bruce reached down and yanked the driver through the windshield and leaped to the side, just in time to avoid the engine exploding. Dick let out a low whistle, that was close, a bit too close if you asked him.

"Hey B, need a hand with something?" Dick let his eyes linger on the two goons Bruce was currently zip-tying together.

Bruce in his usual territorial way grunted out that he would handle it so Nightwing sat back to watch the show.

"Who are you working for?" Batman hissed, his gravelly voice carrying across the shipyard.

"Nobody," The first goon tries. He shifts his hands, testing his bonds and eyeing Nightwing in the background, "We just boosted the truck."

Batman grabs the shoulder of the first goon and slams him into the crate, "Lie to me again, and crashing into a wall head-on will be the least painful activity of your evening."

"No, I swear to-" the beeping from the lost luggage stops the man mid-word as his eyes widen.

A rush of steam slips out as the beeping intensifies and the box opens. Out comes a humanoid form. It's well-muscled with deep orange skin and green pants. It looks like a demon, red eyes, and all.

"What the hell is that?" The driver asks, attempting to back away.

"Your cargo," Bruce says as he reaches down into his utility belt.

"It's called an Amazo." Nightwing chimes in, "A highly advanced cybernetic android equipped with the ability to absorb the powers of superhumans."

"It's a toaster on steroids," Bruce says before he sets off to run straight for Amazo. He throws a wire and ducks under Amazo's too wide swing, yanking the metal wire tight. Amazo swing's its arm behind him at an unnatural angle that catches Bruce in the chest and sends him flying back.

"Packs quite the punch for a toaster on steroids, huh?" Dick can't resist the urge to quirk an eyebrow up as he stares down at Bruce, "Need a hand?"

"No."

Dick rolls his eyes and crosses his arms. This is why he moved to Bludhaven, "Okay, guess I'll just stick around and watch."

Jason uses Amazo's distraction to jump down from his perch and sneak into the back of the smoldering truck. Let the idiots deal with Black Mask's pet project, there was something else much more valuable here courtesy of Lex Luthor. Jason rummaged into the overturned boxes. If he remembered from the log it would be in the crate stamped X-4986. He cast his eyes around before they landed on the edge of black ink partially concealed by scattered cargo boxes. Jason flicked his knife out and slashed the straps holding the lid on and pried it off.

A sickly green glow emitted from the container. Jason reached down and slipped the palm-sized crystal out of the wooden crate. Kryptonite: one of the most powerful substances on Earth. For villains and gangsters on the black market, it could bring in more than a few million. Usually, Luther kept a tight handle on the supply. Black Mask would have had to pay a pretty penny to even get this stone. Jason smirked, Sionis was going to be fucking pissed when it became clear exactly what he lost. He flipped the crystal in his hand one more time and then tucked it safely into his inner pocket for safekeeping.

What kind of weakling loses to a rock? Venom mused, there was a bubble of curiosity that wasn't Jason's. It was an odd sensation to know Venom was seeing what he was seeing. How Venom worked on a biological level was still beyond him.

"Well, every alien can't be a body snatcher with an affinity towards cannibalism that would be boring. Besides I'd like to see you go toe to toe with a super without one of these."

We would win. How do you think Kryptonians taste?

Jason's stomach rolled, "I can't believe I'm saying this but you are not fucking going to eat Superman."

Hah, spoilsport.

"Yeah well-"

The trucks shook as something -Amazo probably- slammed into them. Jason momentarily lost his balance and had to quickly plant his feet to stay upright.

"We'll go back over who's acceptable to eat again later."

We're not taking Superman off the list.

"Yes, we fucking are! And if Diana is on this list I will light us both on fire right now!" Jason hissed as he snuck a look around the back door of the van to ensure Batman was still preoccupied before he slipped out and back into the shadows.

Venom huffed. We would never eat Diana. She is much too impressive.

"Guess that's one thing we can agree on at least." Jason murmured as Batman was slammed into a shipping crate, "Now be quiet. I need to focus."

Jason scrambled back to his sniper's nest and watched the action through his scope. Batman takes Amazo out with explosive putty in his eyes. It's not the cleanest way, Jason would have done it with armor-plated bullets, but it works and the android's body crashes to the ground like a puppet with its strings cut.

What Bruce does after that is pure intimidation 101, Nightwing uses a crane to string up the ten-ton robot up and threaten to drop it on Black Mask's delivery boys. It takes no time for them to start spilling their guts when Jason starts actively recruiting in Crime Alley he's going to make sure all his guys know that. If there's one rule every Gothamite should know it's that the Bat doesn't kill. Sure he might let you die, he might even stand around and let the Joker kill you, or even let your murder go with a slap on the wrist, but Bruce is way too self-righteous to kill.

He can't see Bruce or Dick's faces from this angle but he can read the henchmen's lips well enough and fill in the gaps well enough. It's the usual who do you work for, blah, blah, blah, nothing new or relevant there. Then things get interesting. Bruce starts asking them about the paper supply massacre.

Bounties. That's what the henchmen say. Bounties on the Red Hood and his shadow.

The Shadow. Venom purrs I like that all you little flesh bags run around scared of your shadows anyway.

Jason hushes him. Lip reading accurately from this distance is hard enough without him losing track of the conversation. He focuses again and Nightwing is asking the men about the disappearances in the Narrows. Jason's attention piques. He knows Black Mask was running the show, but that didn't mean he was the only one. The lower level enforcers and most of the contacts Jason had spent the last two weeks cultivating weren't going to be privy to high-level information the Mask seemed especially intent on keeping a lid on.

One of the men laughs, his lips asking if Batman had finally started missing a few rats. Anger starts boiling in Jason's veins his finger tightens on the trigger. He takes a shallow breath and shoves the emotion down the way Talia had taught him.

The man is still talking, his greased back hair shines in the light. He doesn't say anything else useful, just a handful of insults and some bravado. They don't know anything. Jason aims and pulls the trigger. Pop, pop, pop Black Mask's goons fall one by one.

As soon as the shots hit their targets Nightwing and Batman scatter. Jason doesn't waste any time grabbing his rifle and taking off. It'll only be a matter of time until they catch up to him, that's what he's counting on.

Venom is bored. Or so he keeps reminding Jason and in between composing little theme songs as they dart between rooftops he'd taken Jason's advice and started composing haikus.

bones snap blood runs yum

Batman chases Street brat yells

Daddy issues wow

Jason nearly loses his footing as his mind against his wishes starts to count syllables, "Stuff it, Seymour. I'm trying to work here. Besides, you got the syllables right but your phrasing sucks. That's not even real poetry."

Don't be a gatekeeper Jason, art is art. That wasn't even a haiku I'd like to see you do better.

"I'm a little busy in case you couldn't tell from the Bat and the Bluebird trailing behind us right now. We can have wine and have long riveting discussions about poetry later."

Oh, can we really darling? Jason can feel Venom rolling his eyes within him. That would just be sublime. I'll pack a picnic and it will be a real date. Of course, we will need a chaperone. It would be improper for us to be alone, something untoward might happen.

Jason regrets everything. He especially regrets rereading Sense and Sensibility recently. Apparently, his passenger had no appreciation for Jane Austen. He jostles his shoulder painfully in the next roll just to spite Venom.

He can hear the Batplane's engines now and he dives down into the next narrow alley just in time to see its lights flare overhead. He shoves the keys into the ignition of his getaway car and starts it. The wheels squeal as he peels out. He's so close, more than halfway there now,

He drives like a mad man swerving in and out of traffic. At one point Bruce tries to use a harpoon to slow him down. He neatly unhooks the top of his convertible and lets Bruce tear it away.

Jason can see the Acme chemical plant. It's just another mile. He makes a hard right and presses his foot all the way down onto the gas. The engine revs and the car picks up speed. Venom is cackling from the adrenaline as Jason crashes through the plant's delivery door and smashes the car squarely into one of the vats. He steps out of the car and into the shadows. Bruce will be along any moment now.

Glass shatters overhead and something heavy lands on the catwalk. He's here. There's something bubbling in his stomach he's not sure if it's nervousness or anticipation. This, this is everything he's been planning for. The first domino of making Bruce see the truth.

"Hard to forget that night huh? In a way, this is the site of your first great failure, maybe your greatest but certainly not your last, right?" Jason felt his heart pound in his chest. "Ah memories," He lifts a gun and fires at the vat of spilling chemicals into the engine of the car. He has thirty seconds to get out before there's a raging inferno.

The factory is a smoking mess of flames by the time he makes it outside. He doesn't turn around to see if Bruce made it out.

Jason couldn't stop the wave of glee that washed over him as he gave Bruce a middle-fingered salute and rode off from the warehouse district. It'd been a hell of a chase and the look of shock on Bruce's cowled face when he cut the grappling line, -he was gonna treasure that shit for a long fucking time. Honestly, that look was the most enjoyable thing he'd seen since he dug himself out of the grave.

This is a terrible plan. Venom rumbled as Jason sped away on a motorcycle he had hidden not too far away.

"Seemed like it worked pretty well to me. Or did you miss the part where we beat Batman at his own game?"

It was too close to the flames. What if we were trapped in the warehouse? Venom grumbled in irritation. Jason could feel his nervous energy in his stomach. It did nothing to lessen his good mood.

Jason snorted, "We weren't going to burn to death in a warehouse. Been there done that. I knew what I was doing when I crashed that car. Explosions are something I know a thing or two about."

If there was one thing Jason knew, it was that he would never be dying in a warehouse again. He would make damn sure he blew himself up or choked on his blood before he let that happen.

Venom went uncharacteristically quiet after that. Jason felt him seep up from his skin, his warmth coating Jason under his jacket and gloves. If Jason didn't know any better he would think the parasite was cuddling, but he was in too good a mood to start another argument with his inner alien.

He slowed his motorcycle as he re-entered the familiar territory of Crime Alley. His smile stretched out in a crooked line.

The glowing green crystal felt heavy in his pocket. Kryptonite, such an innocuous-looking rock for all the damage it can do to a Kryptonian. And to think Black Mask had been enough of an idiot to keep Kryptonite in the same shipment as Amazo. All the anti-superman tech a man could want so far from Metropolis. Really, the crime lord was just asking for someone to steal it.

He'd done it the first part of his plan was in motion and he couldn't believe how smoothly it went. The Amazo trap went off without a hitch at the dock. He'd collected Black Mask's stash of Kryptonite. Now on to phase two of pissing off Black Mask and teaching Bruce Wayne a lesson about playing hero. He grinned. But first, a meeting between the Replacement and him was long overdue. Bruce really should keep a better eye on his Robins.

Author's Note: I think we all know what's (who's) coming next... or do we? Happy holidays folks. Hope you enjoy the next chapter is going to be a bit of a ride and as you'll notice I've upped the chapter count again to eleven. This is because Venom and Jason keep running off to do bonding things instead of staying with the plot, but what can you do? As always if you enjoyed please drop me a comment!