US Navy Base
"Marco Torres." Lt. Eric Ricards spoke to the seated men around the mahogany table. They went by the names of Kozak, Viper, and Hunter. Obviously, those weren't their real names. They were never used when in the field. They didn't exist. Hell, technically this meeting didn't exist. They were nothing but ghosts. All men remained in their proper, austere position as the stern-faced lieutenant strolled to the projector screen.
A picture of a man wearing sunglasses popped up on the projector board that brought light to the dim room. Anchor beard, straight black hair, pale skin. "Politician at day, crime boss by night." He continued. "Drugs, weapons, prostitution, you name it. He hasn't been around for long, but it seems like he's stepping up his game. "
"He's running a campaign against the FARCs, one of the most notorious criminal organizations and the lead producers and distributors of cocaine around the globe. He's been collaborating with the Colombian government, advocating anti-peace terms."
"Seems like it's a front to eliminate competition." Viper injected.
"Exactly." The middle-aged lieutenant spoke. "Marco's growing criminal empire would only conflict with theirs. The only way for him to get rid of them is just by playing politics."
Kozak raised his hand as if he were a student in a classroom. "Why can't we just take this sonuva bitch out?" Although the man had a full grown beard, he still carried a lighthearted, spontaneous demeanor.
"It'd be easy to execute this bastard but American intervention in this situation would only initiate war between us and possibly the Venezuelans-we'd be throwing shit in the already boiling water."
"Moreover, he's backed by a private paramilitary force." He continued. "Known as Scorpius." He changed the screen to a massive assembly of troops, gathered around tanks and military gear. "A rogue black operations unit of abandoned and or discharged soldiers: former Navy, Green Berets, Marines…all with a crooked background. "
"Records of assassinations of politicians and world leaders, bribery, blackmail, extortion, political corruption. They sell themselves to the highest bidder." Viper scanned through the papers. "They're no different from the people they're fighting against."
"So just how in the hell was he able to develop funds for an entire army?" Kozak asked.
"To them this is more of an…investment." Viper analyzed. "If he takes over the cartel and gains a monopoly on drug trade while having that much political influence, just imagine how powerful they'll be when they take over."
"A military coup…" Kozak breathed in awe.
"Yes."
"So what's the mission?" Hunter chimed in with a calculating obsequious tone that proved he was the most mature of the four. He was the oldest, no more than fifty years old. His years of leadership and experience were the only two reasons the man was given respect, apart from that, his unrelenting, stony inclination rather induced a chilling and intimidating sentiment to those in his approximate vicinity.
"Via reconnaissance, we were able to obtain the exact location of one out of their main base." The projector now displayed an overhead photo of a large area consisting of a series of uniform cement buildings. Nothing but forest consisting of thick leaves and exotic trees surrounded the area. "The Amazon Basin-south of Venezuela by the Casiquiare, specifically."
Ricards folded his muscular arms. "I want you to find as much information on these bastards you can collect. Future schemes, names of officials… They're considered to be an international threat. It'd be a shame if we hadn't done anything while they're here meddling underneath our shoes."
Hunter, the only one out of the three arose. He leaned forward on the table. "Understood."
Caracas, Venezuela
4:00 pm
Five Days Later
Charles Dagger stepped out of the aircraft as he swiftly made down the steps. A thick gush of warm tropical wind hit his skin, welcoming him to the foreign country.
Yet, he wasn't here for the scenery. He was a businessman, a representative of Stagg Enterprises focused on an international first aid and immunizaton project for those living in poverty. Venezuela just conveniently happened to be the place of this year's choice. Simon Stagg. One cruel yet generous son of a bitch.
Walking into the airport terminal consisted of a hectic crowd. Some forming an exodus, another a massive influx as they finally touched land. An automated female voice boomed from the speakers, greeting the incoming. He shuffled his way past the multitude until he wounded up by the airport security guard.
"Buenos noches." A middle aged, slightly overweight woman greeted as she took the blue booklet from his hand. "Bienvenida a Venezuela."
"Buenas noches a usted también, señorita." He replied. Altough she could tell the man was American, he had a trained accent.
The security guard glanced at his picture. Blue eyes, black hair. Nothing unusual except a striking scar on his left cheek, marking the letter J. It had to have been branded. It looked excruciating. She nodded her head in approval, her eyes expressing awe.
"Gracias." He spoke as he took his passport and left.
How was a dead man able to gain access to a passport, bypass security, and wind up in another continent one may ask. Being the ward of a sociopathic multimillionaire who invests ninety percent of his time dressing up as a bat, fighting crime, and dragging his wards into his never ending battle for justice could do it. It gave him access to the government databases, names, locations, occupations, records, bank accounts, social security numbers...
Charles Dagger was an opulent businessman, one of Stagg's well trusted. However, nothing more than a common criminal. Money laundering was his specialty as he utilized his "trips" as ways to connect to international criminal organizations. Batman had his eye on him for some time now however he was efficient in covering up his tracks. And no evidence meant no arrest in the judicial system.
But not to Jason. Long story short, the bastard got what was coming to him once he tracked him down in an alleyway, trying to get oral from a minor.
Jason Todd glanced down at the tablet as it presented a photo of one Ricardo Mendez. Apparently another crime boss in a gang known as 'The Brotherhood', or as they call it 'La Hermandad'. He'd managed to extract the information from one of his other "patients" at the infirmary. No more in his late forties. Bald. Bearded. Tattoos along his neck and shoulders. He looked like a hard ass. But he's seen worse. Way worse.
Apparently, Ricardo was the only one up to par with Geneva's plans. He knew where he was located. An abandoned warehouse. He'll make him talk.
If not, sing.
Somewhere in Cordillera de la Costa Central
The Warehouse
Four Hours Later
A long dirt path stretched toward a towering, barb wired gate, guarded by two armed thugs at each side of the entrance. As a bright white light shone on the area. Beyond the fence, there had to have been twenty or so men guarding the exterior of the premises. Some served as snipers on the rooftop, others secured the grounds. It was quiet. They weren't expecting any trouble.
Jason shifted uncomfortably within the bush he was behind. He'd been there for the past few minutes, analyzing how he could manage to get in. It irked him to know he was going to have to use one of Batman's tactics to bypass the sentinel.
Attacking the guards head on was feasible however, that would only alert the others. And he couldn't take them on. That was suicide. And stupid.
He was going to have to find another way in, something that would keep him from direct contact...
"¿Cuánto tiempo he estado aquí?" How long have I been out here? One out of the two guards complained as Jason translated.
"Oh, will you shut up?" The other responded. "It's not like it's been a rough night."
"Yeah and your girl doesn't get enough of those in bed." He replied jokingly as he chuckled. He reached for a lighter. "I'm going for a smoke. Cover me."
With that, he parted from his partner and into the surrounding wilderness.
Jason saw his opportunity in the lone thug. He cautiously made his way through the bushes, avoiding any possible noise that could be made.
The guard flickered his lighter, bringing it to life as he pulled out a cigar. He stood around for a moment, inhaling the tobacco substance. Then took something else out from his pocket; a bright light shone in the relative darkness as he could make out a grin on his face.
"She sent you nudes?"
The man intended to turn but was cut short once an arm grasped his throat.
Jason flipped his body over once he wrapped an arm around his neck. He gripped tighter while he ignored the man's formidable attempts to breathe. He moved his lips to his ear. "No hacer un sonido." He breathed while the man grunted. "Dejó el comunicador. Despacio."
He languidly obeyed as he reached to his side, produced the mobile comm and dropped it beside him.
"Now." The mysterious voice continued. "You're going to say exactly what I tell you." He reached down to his leg holster, pulling out a silenced Glock 19 then jammed the nozzle to his temple. "Understood?"
He nodded.
"Report to your comrade. Tell him you just found a body. If you do so, I'll spare your life."
He nodded.
Jason activated the mobile comm and placed it to his hostage's lips.
"Capitan?" He started. "I-I-I just found a body. Come quick!"
"Gracias." Jason smashed the weapon into his head, knocking him out cold.
The capitan hurriedly made his way to his comerade's location. Moments later, he stumbled over something. It was a body. Turning on his flashlight, he focused down...
"Alonzo?"
"Up here."
Once he looked up, Jason shot the man between the eyes.
He dragged him further into the bushes as he unclothed himself, gearing up with the thug's possessions. He abandoned the rifle. Too flashy.
Once fully clothed, the second Robin made his way to the gate.
"Abrir." He instructed. The guard behind the gate obliged as he pushed the gate, giving him entry.
"Ricardo called for me inside." Jason said. "The other went out for a smoke. Watch out while I'm gone."
He nodded his head and ran out to the other side.
Like candy from a baby.
Todd walked his way to the front, avoiding eye contact with the rest of the men. Two wooden doors were cracked open, revealing the gang leader and some others gathered around a poker table.
Jason entered, closing the door behind him. Ricardo swirved his head to see a young man pointing a gun between his eyes as his own were marked with vengeance, anger...
"Who the hell are you?"
"Someone who can't afford to answer that question." Jason turned the nozzle to the men behind him. "Dejen sus comunicadores móviles. Todos ustedes. O yo le disparé aquí."
They reached for their hand held transmitters and placed it on the ground.
"Apártate!"
They slowly backed away.
"Hey. What do you want ese?"
"Information. And you're going to give it to me."
Ricardo backed away for a moment, astonished. He edged closer to the table.
"Alright, alright holmes just chill." He said while slyly reaching behind him.
Jason caught it. And he wasn't buying it.
Right then, he fiercely flung his wrist revealing a glass beer mug. Todd seized his hand then forced it against the table, causing the glass to shatter on impact.
He took hold of his face and hovered it over the glass shards. His men motioned to gather around him.
"Move any closer and he's dead." Jason threatened.
"Retirarse." Ricardo groaned.
The men eased up.
"Now I'm going to make you talk, one way or the other, comprende?"
"Okay! Okay! Shit! What do you want?"
"Geneva Kwayana."
"Never heard of the bitch!"
Jason forced his face further into the sharp, clear solid until it was literally centimeters from his skin.
"Fuck! Fuck! Alright!" He gulped. "She came to me weeks ago, said she was working for someone who wanted to strike a deal with La Hermandad."
"Who? "
"Tu madre!"
Jason smashed his head onto the shattered glass. Ricardo shouted in pain.
"Marco…" He swallowed. "Marco Torres!"
"Who is he?!"
"He's a politician but his hand is just as crooked as any common criminal here in Venezuela. That bastardo's making it up quick in the crime industry and in the polls. Eliminating anyone who poses a threat. "
"So because you can't beat him you had to join him..." Jason implied.
"Look, I don't work for that cocksucker. Geneva promised me thirty two American women for the price of half a mill. Simple deal. That's all."
Just then, a cell phone rested on the table began to vibrate. Jason reached over and checked the caller ID.
Private number.
"Expecting a call?"
"It's her."
"Answer."Jason grabbed hold of his beater to pull him back up then tossed the phone. "And don't try anything smart. I understand Spanish."
Mendez flipped open the cellular device.
"Qué? How soon? Bueno."He closed it the phone. "She should be coming any minute."
Jason brought his face closer to his, giving him the best Bat-glare he could.
"And I was never here…"
A freight vehicle pulled up to the scene as one Geneva Kwayana stepped out from the passanger's seat. She ran a hand through her curly dark locks before closing the door.
The twenty year old woman entered the warehouse as her men followed.
"Do you have the package?" The criminal spoke as he emerged from the band behind him.
"Es bueno verte también, Ricardo. " Geneva's voice could be heard from the stack of plank wood he was hiding behind. He peeped over to see her in a form-fitting faux leather black jumpsuit and combat boots. A group of men stood behind her. They were in uniform with blood red camo apparel. They seemed to be some sort of a militia.
Across from them were Mendez and his men, prepared for attack should there be any mishap.
Silence blatantly took over the ambiance as the two leaders stared at one another. Something didn't feel right. As if there had been animosity, suspicion between the two.
"Sí." Mendez broke the silence as he signaled one of his men to come forth. He obliged as he plopped a duffel bag onto the decrepit concrete floor. "Five hundred grand. Just as the deal."
Geneva grinned as one of her men scurried to grab the bag. "Let's just say I'm impressed. You haven't really been known for...punctual payments." She chuckled. "I had my doubts."
"Yeah and I had a fair share of my own." Mendez replied. "The girls?"
"Outside." Geneva motioned back to the entrance. She led the men out to a large freight truck parked sloppily at the front. She motioned to the back of the trunk as the militia ran to that location.
"Open." The subservient men obeyed her command.
The doors creaked open, and as a swarm of flies, more of the militia jumped out of the vehicle. Quickly, they stood beside her.
"What the hell?! This wasn't apart of-"
"No." She said as she took out a pistol. "It wasn't. Let's just say there's been a change of plans."
"Where are they?!"
"Marco found it best to just keep the women along with the cash." She clocked the firearm.
"You…puta..."
"I know."
With that she fired, killing him instantaneously. His men stood back in sheer consternation. She looked back up to the rest of his men.
"Kill them all." She spoke to the militia.
At once, the paramilitary force ran forward with their weapons. Gunshots began to billow as they fired at one another. Ricardo's men never stood a chance.
It was a bloodbath.
Geneva made her way to the rearmost end of the building. Just then, something buzzed from her holster. She pulled out the cell phone.
"Is he dead?"
"Ricardo's been dealt with."
"And the money?"
"The five hundred grand is in my hand as we speak. Once the men are finished with Ricardo's, they'll be extracting the rest from the warehouse."
"Good."
She ended the call as she gazed heaven bound for a moment. The helicopter should be arriving any minute now...
Suddenly a heavy weight thrusted against her, slamming her to the ground.
"Got you, bitch."
It was Jason.
"You didn't really think I'd let you go that easily?" He spoke as he pinned her arms. "Did you?"
Geneva's blood rushed upon hearing his voice. She twisted her neck to face him. "I had faith. You were Robin after all, Jason. You can't stay away. Even if you wanted to."
The gunfire continued. Mendez's men dropped one by one as the militia relentlessly gunned them down. Scintillating light spilled from the heavens, the wind chopped violently as the sound of a helicopter approaching grew louder. Reinforcements?
"Call. Them. Off."
"That won't be necessary."
It wasn't her voice. A cold piece of metal was jammed to the back of his head. Jason knew who he was. There was no point in guessing.
"Get up." Jenkins ordered.
Jason stood up and slowly turned, nonchalant when he saw the assassin.
"It was a mistake not killing you back in Gotham." He switched off safety mode. "I'll make sure the same opportunity doesn't pass by now."
"Kill him and I kill you." Geneva spoke. Jason turned to see her holding a pistol to the tall white haired man. "You won't be that hard to replace."
"Are you insane?" He shook his head. "Keeping him alive is a liability." His voice grew serious. "And the boss doesn't like liabilities."
The three stood motionless in their respective positions. A strong tension generated amongst the three.
"This isn't up for a debate." Jason stated.
He striked; kicking Geneva to her stomach as he grasped onto Jenkins's arm and kneed him in the chest. Bullets erupted from the pistol as the two fought for the handheld weapon. Jenkins whacked his head against his, distorting the former Robin for a moment until he regained consciousness. He twisted his arm with the equipped gun and forcefully pressed his palm in the space between his shoulder and arm. Jenkins cried out in pain as he let go.
"You don't need that to fight me." Jason mocked.
Jason threw a fist at him as Jenkins bent to dodge. The assassin took hold of his ribcage, picked him up, then slammed him to the ground. He climbed on top and began to punch the teen. His blows were like iron fists. Jason managed to seize his hands as he separated the two with a raised leg and forced him down. Jenkins grunted. Jason took over as he grabbed the pistol, aimed at his skull and with no hesitancy, pulled the trigger.
Nothing happened.
It was empty.
Jason, without thinking, took the second option and smashed him with the gun, rendering him unconscious.
Geneva came from behind and jumped on him, wrapping her legs around his waist as she choked him with her two arms, her strength suffocated him.
He drove her back into a tree, provoking her to let go. She swiftly got up and motioned to kick Todd but he was able to block her strike, catching her leg in mid air. She picked herself up once more and used her other foot to drive into Jason's skull. She landed on her feet and power kicked him to the stomach, pushing him away from her. Jason clutched his abdomen.
She was good.
"Perfect." She spoke more to herself.
"Huh?"
"I have you right where I want you."
"What?"
Immediately, a brisk, chilly object pierced his chest as it was quickly drawn out. Then came the warm sensation as blood oozed from his fresh wound, then his mouth. He collapsed on his knees. His vision became blurry, his breathing strained, the gunshots muffled. He saw feet sweeping their way toward him from behind. Jason gazed up. It was a man. Tall. Muscular. Mask. Half black, half orange…
"…Slade?"
He parted his lips slightly to speak further but no words came forth. Then, a hard, shocking and surprising pain came crashing at his skull with the synchronous flash of white light.
Then nothing.
