Author's Note: Lucky number thirteen! We're so close to the end of the arc! On that note: if you can think of some, please suggest a title idea for these first set of chapters (the "arc" title) in your review. If I pick your title, I'll write a one-shot DC Comics fic just for you! Just tell me what idea/pairing. Suggestions have to come in before Chapter 14 is posted, though. (**UPDATE = WE HAVE A WINNER. SEE CHAPTER 14 FOR DETAILS**)

This chapter is very criminal-plot and action heavy, with no direct Jason/Terry interaction... but trust me when I say that the next chapter will balance it out. Enjoy reading and good luck brainstorming titles! ~ Tsuki

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I don't own any characters mentioned in this story. The rights belong to DC comics, Bob Kane, etc.

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Darkness Cannot Drive, Part 14/? (Chapter 13)

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[[You have to move faster,]] the voice of Wayne crackles in his ear. [[There are two more labs that were set on fire.]]

"Oh gee, I'm sorry," Terry pants, dodging a kick. "Maybe you missed the part about ninjas with flamethrowers!"

[[They're not ninjas. They're well-trained covert mercenaries. Interpol reports say that they go by the name of 'RAGE'. They're known for corporate and government sabotage.]]

Terry grunts and hooks his grip around one of the men's arms, slamming a palm strike into the dreg's armored shoulder. Both the Wayne lab and this Star Lab center were crawling with these guys—well-protected and well-armed with high-tech flame-guns and heavy kevlar. Terry finds himself using a lot of Wing Chun tonight; it seems to throw the mercenaries off and allows him to get in close, out of the danger of the flames. However, even though his strikes resemble what Master Chen has taught him, he finds his mind fixating not on the old master's advice of precision and centeredness, but instead on Jason Todd's favorite motto: "Take 'em down fast and take 'em down hard!"

By the time the last armored man is incapacitated, Terry is out of breath and dizzy from the smoke fumes. He puts out the last of the fires with the lab's extinguisher. "Looks pretty bad," he whispers. Wayne grunts in response.

[[Star Labs has a larger nano-tech program than the one at the main Wayne Enterprise lab. RAGE was clearly sent to do more damage to the larger programs.]]

"Yeah, the whole room is fried. And there were twice as many of these dregs than at your lab. They really wanted this stuff destroyed."

[[Take a recording for the files and get out of there. You still need to intercept the group sent to Lex Co.]]

"What about the second Wayne lab?" Terry asks as his vision flashes as he takes a series of quick photos of the Star Lab's ruined remains.

[[I talked to Tim. He says he's handling it.]]

"What?! He's in no condition to fight, especially these guys. They're really well armed, and he's been retired for..."

[[He called in help. Just focus on shutting down the destruction at Lex Co. Their nanotech program is as big as Star's, so be prepared!]]

"On it!"

Terry fires up his rockets and zips toward the coordinates. Lex Co. (formerly known as LuthorCorp and then the ever infamous LexCorp) just opened their new research facility in Neo Gotham. Terry remembers Clark complaining to Bruce on the phone—and Wayne calmly reminding the Kryponian that the company's namesake had been dead for some time and that it was difficult—thought, admittedly, not impossible—to plan a scheme for the destruction of Superman or the League from beyond the grave. For once, Terry thinks, it looks like Lex's name is the target of villainy rather than the cause.

Terry sees smoke pouring from a lab window as soon as he's in viewing distance. He crashes through the skylight and immediately slams a hard, downward kick into one of the mercenaries.

There are seven RAGE members in the lab, their flame-guns smoking and ready. Terry hears one guy chuckle under a high-tech gas-mask. "Looks like our company finally showed up for dinner, boys!"

"Waste 'im!" another one growled, thumbing the flamethrower's controls and shooting a burst of fire in Terry's direction. Even through the suit's natural shielding, Terry feels the heat on his face and it hurts. But he's seen how these guy's fight—get in close and they don't nearly have the skill of, say, someone like Jason.

Terry grins grimly and dodges another flame blast as he sweeps one man's legs out from under him and swivels up for a sharp upper-cut across another's jaw. One flame burst hits him from the side and Terry winces as the suit's outer layer rips and melts, exposing sparking circuitry underneath.

[[Watch the suit. You know it's not easy to repair,]] Wayne states flatly.

"Yeah, I'll put 'protect the suit' on the top of my list," Terry growls as he dodges another flame and ducks under a RAGE member's punch. "Right after 'not dying.'"

[[Just keep your head in the game and that's not a problem. Your skill level is higher than theirs—just don't be stupid.]]

Terry nods and pushes forward. Up close and tight—take 'em down fast and take 'em down hard.

The men are disarmed and zip-tied within ten minutes. Not bad, Terry thinks. "Okay," he whispers, "now where are the rest of them?"

[[How many were in the lab?]] Wayne's voice is stern over the comm.

"Only seven."

[[I can run a heat-signature]] Wayne offers. [[But it may have some false reads because of the fire, and it'll drain some of the suit's power.]]

"It's better than nothing—we can't afford to leave these guys running around the lab. Do it."

He feels the suit hum and tingle a bit as Bruce uses the circuits to take a not-so-poor-man's outer reading. In a few moments, Bruce grunts in his ear: [[Nothing.]]

"What?" Terry frowns, looking around the lab. "There were nearly twenty guys at the Wayne lab and about thirty at Star's. You said Lex Co's program was big, right? Shouldn't there be more guys here?"

[[Likely. Lex Co's nano-research is incredibly competitive. And the company specifically announced they would be conducting most of their nano work in Gotham. If that is RAGE's target, that lab should have had a similar tactical plan.]]

"So... the destruction of the nano-tech may not be their goal? Or, at least..." Terry looks around the lab and suddenly sees it for the first time "...at least not Lex Co's tech. Check out my visual. Notice anything weird here?"

Terry's vision flashes blue and suddenly Wayne can see what he sees: a slightly scorched lab with one computer consul and a series of chemical tubes smoking with extinguished fire.

[[Lex Co. wasn't a real target,]] Wayne says grimly.

"Right—they did just enough damage so the company could say 'oh, we were hit too. Couldn't be us behind it!' But the destruction here isn't nearly as bad as what was at Wayne and Star. And less than half the amount of guys sent to hit a larger program? This is a set-up. Look, they only destroyed one computer—the rest of what's on fire is contained. And it just 'happens' to be high in soot and smoke... and very little destructive flame."

[[Nice work, detective.]] Terry can hear what is almost a hint of pride in Wayne's voice. [[Lex Co. will have to be looked into. For now, though, get over to the last Wayne lab. If Lex Co. isn't a real target, then the largest number of these mercenaries might be at the secondary lab.]]

"And with Tim," Terry agrees. "I'm on it!" Briefly, Terry wonders what kind of 'help' Tim has called in. It will take Terry almost fifteen minutes to get across town, even with the Bat-Wing at full speed. He hopes that, whoever Drake's help is, they're able to hold those RAGE guys off...

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Jason grins as he fires off another series of blasts, sending two more armored mercs flying back. His guns are starting to get low on charge, so he thumbs the handle to switch over to a new ammunition cell. Another five men rush forward, their flame-throwers roaring fire. Jason dodges and weaves, blasting at the men's knees and chests. One flame still singes his jacket, but Jason's hits are more precise. The men fall, groaning into unconsciousness.

Before Jason can celebrate his victory, however, he hears more of the gas-mask wearing thugs running up the service stairs.

"You aren't shooting to kill, right? I'd hate to have to explain that to the old man."

Jason whirls around to see a grey haired ex-Robin half-grinning from the doorway.

"Drake? I thought you wanted me to handle this."

"Ideally," Tim growls. "I'm getting too old for this shit. But I saw the number of guys here on the security footage—there's a chance you'll be tied up fighting off these guys and the nanos will be destroyed by the smoke damage." He holds up a clear, cubed case with a slot the size of a test-tube in the center. "I'll grab the tech. You just keep doing what you do best... well, what you mostly do best. Like I said, no deaths."

Jason rolls his eyes, even though Drake can't see the expression under his helmet. "You remember I'm using chargers and not bullets, right? A lot harder to kill people—trust me, I've experimented. Plus these guys have armor. No one's dying tonight, at least not easily."

Tim hesitates and then nods. Before he has a chance to respond, a group of about eighteen mercenaries charge out of the stairway door.

"That's my cue," Tim yells as he runs toward the doorway. "Keep 'em busy!"

"I was thinking more 'groaning in pain' than busy," Jason chirps, but Tim's already gone and the only response is the loud crack of Jason's foot hitting a mercenary's body armor and the hum of his gun as he thumbs it to 'ready.'

The next few minutes are a fury of fire, gun blasts, and colliding limbs. The men are well trained, but Jason knows he's better. Soon, most of the men are on the ground and another few seem to be considering a retreat.

"What's the word, One?" an armored man asks another, his voice muffled by his gas mask.

"Status of the other squadrons?" the other replies, blasting his flamethrower in Jason's direction.

"No word—the news is reporting that Batman showed up."

The man curses through his gas mask. "We can't return to her with complete failure. We're going to Plan C."

"Roger that!"

The second man disappears down the stairwell as Jason volleys off of a medical table and slams his foot into the remaining man's masked face. The glass eye covers crack as Jason draws his gun up so the barrel is almost kissing the man's body armor and fires. The mercenary cries out in pain as he falls backwards. Some internal bleeding maybe, Jason thinks. But nothing likely fatal—the body armor would disperse the blast. He'd kept his word to Tim... probably.

Jason is interrupted from his self-congratulations when the missing mercenary returns, a remote switch in his hand. Jason turns, pointing his gun in the man's direction, but immediately pauses when the man yells: "Hold it!" Jason tilts his helmet-shielded head to the side, waiting for the man to explain. The mercenary responds by holding up the switch. "This whole building is wired to blow. I can press this button and set a series of chargers off now, or you can just wait. I just armed them—they'll explode in seven minutes."

Jason curses and takes a step toward the man, who yells "Hey!" again and waves the remote trigger in reminder.

"Where. Are. The. Bombs." Jason's voice is thick, dark, and deadly. He thinks he sees the mercenary shiver slightly.

"All over the building. We planted over twenty of them, all armed and all of which could take down a small building on their own. You can waste time grilling me and get us all slagged, waste time trying to diffuse them, or be smart and get the fuck out of here!"

Jason stares at the man silently for a moment over the gun barrel. Then he curses, lowering his weapon. "I'm not saving your men. Get them up and get them out of here, or don't. It's up to you. But let me tell you one thing—I'm very resilient. You set those bombs off before the seven minutes is up, and I'll hunt you down and make you wish you'd never, ever step foot in Gotham. Clear?"

"Er... crystal."

Jason doesn't wait to see what the man chooses—he doesn't much care if the man's associates live or die, really—as he turns and bolts out the door that Tim had exited through. It takes him a minute to find the ex-Robin. Six minutes to go.

"Change of plans. Place is going to blow. Let's move it, Drake!"

"What!?" Tim looks up from a computer consul, the screen's blue light highlighting the panic in his face. "How long do we have?"

"Just over five minutes now. So move your ass!"

"Can't. The nanos are still unstable." Tim points at a green loading bar on the blue-tinted screen. The bar is about three-fourths of the way full and inching slowly. "If I try to transfer them to the container before the stabilization is complete, I may as well have let those arsonists burn them. They'd be unusable!"

"They're not worth your life, Drake!"

Tim scowls. "I've risked it for less, Todd. I've poured my heart into this project for years now. There's so much possibility—so many people they could help. I wouldn't forgive myself if I didn't at least try to save them."

Jason hesitates a moment and checks his watch. Less than five minutes left. And the loading bar has just hit eighty percent full.

"Damn it. Fine!" Jason grabs Tim's arm and pulls him away from the console. "You say these stupid machines need saving? I'll fucking save them. But only one of us has a chance of surviving a series of charger explosions—and, newsflash, that 'one' is not you. So high-tail it out of here, get to a safe distance, and I'll grab your precious nanos!"

Tim hesitates briefly, looking at the status bar on the screen. It reads eighty-five percent finished. Just under four minutes before the chargers blow.

"You'll have to be careful removing the tube," Tim warns.

"Go, you idiot!"

Tim grimaces in response, but finally runs out the door. Jason takes a deep breath and watches the green bar fill slowly. Slowly. Slowly.

Three minutes before the chargers blow.

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TO BE CONTINUED...