Little Bird's Vengeance Chapter 15 Pursuit
Without the Iron Man armour, Tony Stark was a civilian. He was still a hero, sort of, but there were two separate components. Heart and body; mind and strength; desire and ability. For the time being, all his strength and ability was tied into the suit. He'd work it out, sooner or later, but unless he managed it in the next five seconds or so, Tim would call him 'civilian' and proceed with normal protocol for such a situation.
First, get the civilians out of danger. Then, only then, take out the targets.
There were three gunmen directly behind them, two approaching from the right, only one from the left. It was hard to outpace them, with Tony using the grapple, and his shoulder on fire from the strain of gliding and climbing. But what was worrying was the distribution; the numbers, and direction. They were being pushed onwards, but not quite straight forward. They were being herded.
And they had picked up a shadow, a figure he'd spotted twelve blocks back, pacing them exactly, matching their course perfectly.
They'd have to lose their pursuers quickly, before the shadow decided to join in.
"Tony, listen," Tim said, pulling himself up onto another roof and sprinting across, the billionaire following. "When I say now, I want you to jump backwards, fall for three seconds exactly, then zip back the way we came two blocks. Then go due south, until I catch up again."
"But why-?"
"I'll explain in a minute, just do it!" Tim snarled. They had to break the herding pattern, and couldn't spare the time to talk.
"I-"
"NOW!" Tim ordered, throwing a small pellet at a metal vent outlet. It exploded, and he pulled up a large-ish sheet as his pursuers opened fire. After a second or two of sheltering from the bullets, he grabbed a handful of twisted metal fragments and threw them. The gunfire ceased; the bits of metal disarming the would-be killers. Seeing the temporary success, Tim took off after Tony.
Tony had paused three rooftops away. "What the hell was that?" he demanded.
Tim rolled his eyes, not that Tony could see it behind the mask, and sighed. He pulled out his comm and spare, activating both and throwing one over. "Talk on the go," he said, slipping on his headset and jumping off for the next roof.
"What's happening?" Tony asked again.
"Your killer has friends," Tim started heaving himself up, turning his head to beckon the older hero on. "They're pushing us in a certain direction. If we don't break the pattern, we'll go straight into an ambush."
"But-"
"We're vulnerable," Tim cut off, exaggerating slightly (he didn't feel particularly vulnerable himself) to better ensure Tony's cooperation. "We have to shake pursuit before we can plan a counter-attack. And there's an unknown on our tails as well. Really want to get away from that, or at least confront it separately."
Tim was breathing heavily; the remains of his illness and the exertion of repeatedly climbing wearing him out. "I wanna see this unknown," Tony told him.
"I'll see when it's safe," Tim answered, pushing onwards, trying to find somewhere they could watch without being at risk.
"No, just tell me where it is."
"Hold on!" Tim growled. "And don't stop moving."
Spotting a likely position, he jumped, wings flaring out, turning and flipping onto the roof and rolling behind a large cooling unit. A moment later Tony joined him. "One hostile left…" Tim mused. He picked up a small rock, watched the gunman approach, and threw. The rock dropped him, leaving a mark on his forehead.
Tim straightened up, carefully stepping out, watching the moving shadow. Behind him, he heard Tony's scuffling footsteps as he emerged. The shadow detached itself, jumping down to join them and resolving itself into a Caucasian male, late twenties, blond hair, navy jumpsuit, several black holsters and a pair of drawn handguns. Tim kept his emotionless façade in place as he matched the outfit and the attitude. "SHIELD."
"Hey, an agent!" Tony exclaimed, "Which one are you?"
"Red Robin," the agent said. "Stand down and step away from Mr Stark."
Tim ignored him, focusing on something on the ground. They were only a dozen floors or so up by this point, so he could see the people below as more than mere specks. More man-shaped blobs with rifles on their backs and an oil drum between them. An oil drum with a detonator on top. Heading towards the fire escape. Damn.
He pulled his staff out and re-extended it. The agent focused his guns, safeties clicking off. "Drop it," he ordered.
"Back in a sec," Tim muttered, distracted, fed up, just wanting it over already. He flipped backwards.
There were two gun shots, and Tim felt a white hot poker go straight through his left thigh, and another stop in his right shoulder. His eyes went wide behind his mask, lips unconsciously forming obscenities as he concentrated on supressing the pain and controlling his descent. He landed in a crouch, pain rippling from the wounds as he realised (from the surprise on his opponents' faces) that it was the SHIELD agent who'd shot him. Looking at the two men and their makeshift bomb, he lost any sympathy he may once have had.
"Right, then," he said, making himself sound as irritated as humanly possible (easy, considering how annoyed he was over the bullets). "You two are gonna drop the rifles, step away from the bomb and answer swiftly and truthfully any question I ask. In return, I will try not to hurt you too much. How does that sound?"
They levelled their rifles at him.
"Idiots," Tim muttered, flicking the staff out and sweeping their feet from under them. He stomped on the first guy's face, breaking his nose as knocking him out, then hauling up the other one, shoving him against the wall and drew a batarang, the staff falling to the ground. "Try that again and I'll do what I did to your lady friend out in the street." He paused, trying to clear his head of the pained fog trying to consume it. "What the hell were you guys thinking anyway? You're tech developers; what's with the guns and IED?"
The man squirmed for a moment, Tim's grip increasing until he fell still. "You have no idea," he snarled. "We have nothing to lose. Why shouldn't we play our part?"
Tim frowned, thinking through the implications of his captive's words. Then he worked it out, He slammed his fist down, angling the batarang so the point of it rested on the man's cheek. "Who are you working for?" he demanded. "What's your goal? Who's plan is it?"
"Stark!" the man gasped. "We will ruin him. I don't know who's plan it is, we worked through an intermediary."
Tim withdrew the batarang, tucking it into its pouch on his belt, and the man sagged with relief. "There will be more questions later," Tim whispered, leaning in close. "If you don't answer truthfully, no matter who's asking, I'll make sure you wish you had. Understood?"
The man nodded wildly. Tim pulled out his Batspray and gave his captive a healthy dose. He dropped his unconscious body, and turned to face his audience on the fire escape. Tony appeared speechless, flicking glances between Tim and the agent, switching from concerned to furious. Tim would have found it comical, but he couldn't supress the pain much longer.
"S'ppose you'll want your own interrogation," he said. "They should be malleable." He stepped over to the bomb, examined it briefly, and yanked the detonator out. All the threats neutralised, he relaxed his mental defences, and near-collapsed from the renewed pain of his bullet wounds. The neglected injuries throbbed, clamouring for attention. He hissed, and leaned against the wall.
"Going to come quietly now?" the unknown agent asked wryly. He still hadn't holstered his guns.
"Not sure I've got a lot of choice at this point," Tim gasped. He sheathed his batarang and bent to scoop up the dropped staff.
"Not a lot, no."
AN: So we're finally approaching the scene a number of you have been waiting for, Tim's interrogation by SHIELD, but we don't get to find out who's behind the attack yet. Hmmm. Is this perhaps taking too long?
All reviews, questions, more than welcome. Other news, in the Wayne's Boys series, it's back to Family Ties, and the Bats are getting ready for something big.
Next week, can Tim escape from SHIELD? Does he want to? Has the thought even crossed his mind? Will Fury turn him into a hamster? (Probably not on that last one...)
See you then.
Katara