Chapter 16
One of the individuals imminently nearing was the Shadow agent whom Tim and Jason had seen back in the warehouse, now carrying the requested files to Slade's office within the hour as promised. The poor bastard. His evening shift had already been off to a rough start with the tongue-lashing received from Slade and Lady Shiva, and it was likely to worsen.
Jason jerked his head upward, a gesture that Tim returned.
They were mere seconds out from conflict as the three figures neared the corner where Jason and Tim were huddled. Tim had to force himself from swearing under his breath. One of them was… big. Tim held one finger up and then pointed to Jason. He'd let him take the big guy. Jason nodded again, understanding, and tensed his body to attack. Tim let out a silent breath. He'd just have to hope their prior training together hadn't dissipated with time. They'd worked well together so far. But how would they fare in combat?
Three.
The key would be time. It only took a split second for an agent to send a distress signal through their intercoms. And it didn't even have to be a full signal. All they had to do was gasp through hot mics to listening ears, and suddenly there'd be a rain of assassins on Jason and Tim's asses. It was a mistake that they couldn't afford.
Two.
Tim tensed his body, readying himself in his own fighting stance. They had to be quick and efficient. The mission depended on it.
One.
The agents turned around the corner, and Tim and Jason moved as one. They were so quick that the three agents didn't even have time to respond to the incoming attack.
Tim sprang towards the far wall of the hallway, instantly extending his bo staff to its entire length. The weapon crackled with power. Blue electricity trailed in its wake, arcing towards the nearest victim as Tim moved. He hit the nearest assassin with a thwack, eliciting a small cry from the man as he crumpled to the ground, unresponsive and papers scattering around him.
Already onto his next attack, Tim kicked in a roundhouse. He knocked the other agent over just as the woman reached her hand to her earpiece. The piece landed with a clatter on the tiled floor, out of reach. Disoriented but not unconscious, the assassin scrambled to her feet and pulled two solid metal knives from her pockets. She came at Tim, swinging wildly. Tim blocked the attack and swung wide, trapping her blades between the wall and his bo. She still held on to them.
"Bad move," Tim mumbled, igniting his bo's electricity. He watched as the electricity traveled from his weapon to the solid metal knives, then up through the arms of his attacker. The woman spasmed grotesquely before slipping to the floor, unconscious.
It all occurred within seconds.
Tim heard a grunt behind him and turned around.
He hadn't even paid attention to their third attacker. He'd instinctively trusted him to Jason in the heat of the moment. The man was easily over seven feet, and his body was built more like a bruiser. As large as he was, Jason looked comically small in comparison, and his position was even more laughable. Like a monkey, he latched on the man's back; legs were locked firmly over the man's chest. Jason held the man in a blood chokehold with both arms locked firmly around the man's neck. Occasionally he had to use an arm to batt away the man's increasingly futile attempts to shake him off. Jason also apparently had the know-how rid the agent of his earpiece; the thing was crushed on the floor under the man's feet.
"Fuckin hell. Just go down already!" Jason groaned as the man slammed backward into the wall, squishing Jason in the process.
Sure enough, the bruiser sunk to his knees heavily, jarring Jason only for a split second before he resumed his hold. Then the man's chest slipped forward to the floor.
Tim knew Jason would roll his eyes, but he went to check the man's pulse anyways.
"He's alive," Jason grunted and folded his arms across his chest. His chest expanded and retracted, his breathing heavy from exertion.
"I know," Tim said. He then placed his bo firmly against the man's back and delivered a powerful shock. Chokeholds worked in a pinch but tended to wear off as soon as blood returned to the brain. Electrocution would last a while longer.
"Cold," Jason commented, with maybe just a hint of appreciation.
It was Tim's turn to roll his eyes. 'Did Jason want to get out of there alive or not?' he seethed inwardly. Either way, Tim could do without the commentary. "That'll keep him asleep for a little while longer. Can't do much about them getting found, though," he said, scratching the back of his neck as he appraised the unconscious agents sprawled in the middle of the hallway.
"People don't come 'round Slade's wing unless summoned. We've got some time."
Tim just had to hope it would be enough.
They booked it after that. With time now being their greatest enemy, they ran with a renewed urgency. Jason's leg hardly limped between strides anymore. Either he didn't notice the pain or was too determined to care. Tim thought it was the latter.
Jason had been right. They didn't encounter anyone else on the way to Shiva's. Their encounter with the three agents had been an unlucky happenstance. On any other night, they probably could have counted on all the agents actively avoiding Shiva and Slade's sides of the headquarters. But Slade just had to ask for those documents… documents that he probably wouldn't even get to quickly based on his overloaded to-do list.
Not for the first time in this mission, Tim cursed out Deathstroke in his mind.
"We're here," Jason's mechanical voice spoke into Tim's ears.
They slowed, now more cautious as they approached. Shiva was located close to the recruit's rooms. While all the recruits were probably outside in the training yards, which was a reasonable distance away, it'd be stupid to get caught by some straggler who forgot something in their room.
The hallway was dark and dimly lit. Multiple security cameras swiveled on their axis in the junction between the wall and ceiling, all aimed at the doors further down the hallway. Tim wasn't worried about those. While running, he'd noticed Jason periodically clicking the cam scrambler at his waist. The man did so again as they approached Shiva's room. Even though they strode boldly through the hallways, all the guards in security rooms saw was Jason's carefully pre-selected footage. They were as good as invisible.
The door to Shiva's room was significantly removed from the others. The nearest recruit dorm was further down the long hallway and closely spaced from the other dorms. It made sense. Much of the League of Shadow's ideology focused on minimalization, separating from material wants to be a perfect assassin. And likely, the rooms that belonged to young trainees were only large enough for a bed and closet. But Shiva… she was the League's Sensei now, and she'd need a bigger space.
They accessed her room the same way they'd done with Slade's. Tim silently thanked Barbara Gordon for her indirect assistance as the security pad innocuously beeped, and the door clicked open.
Babs would be pissed with him once this mission was said and done. Tim had never been off the grid for so long, and even at that moment, she was probably frantically scanning all of Gotham to find him. He'd never expected Stephanie Brown's cover story to last more than forty-eight hours. But hopefully… eventually… once the anger wore off, maybe she'd be a little proud of him that he'd easily put her teachings into practice.
Jason went to work searching the room before Tim could even protest. No longer caring about discretion, he banged on walls and turned the bed over as if looking for trap doors or secret rooms. There wasn't much to search. Unlike Slade's room, Shiva's was shockingly baren. Tim had known that she was a strict adherent of the Shadow's indoctrination professionally, but it was another thing to see it so ingrained in someone's personal life.
"It's not here," Jason abandoned his search to glare at Tim through the red lit-up eyes. "You said it'd be here."
"Give me a sec," Tim snapped, sending Jason his own glare. He'd initially stayed where he was, just in front of the door, but moved forward. He surveyed the room, taking everything in and trying to suppress his annoyance at Jason's tampering. It would do him no good to fight with the other man right now. They didn't have enough time.
He needed to think.
Shiva's room was separated into three spaces, the kitchen, the sleeping area, and her workspace. Over her computer was a wall of TVs that illuminated black and white footage from the hallway security cams. Each dorm door flickered in and out of view as the cameras rotated. Apparently, Shiva liked to keep close watch over her little ducklings.
Tim felt he could ignore the kitchen. The room contained only a small refrigerator, a kettle, and a small counter space with a portable stove top tucked underneath a low-hanging cupboard. He stepped through the small room, thinking as he opened one of the drawers, and was unsurprised to see it only carried one set of utensils.
He then ventured to the bedroom area, now a mess, thanks to Jason. The bed had only a single sheet and cover. There was a lamp on a nondescript nightstand, so singularly useful that it didn't even have a drawer to sift through. Across from the bed was a rack that held two changes of Shiva's uniform. Beside it was a clear plastic drawer containing personal clothing items that Tim decidedly did not want to explore unless absolutely necessary. There was a single windowsill in the room; a potted plant sat in the corner, its leaves healthy and trailing down the wall.
Odd.
Tim didn't take Shiva to be a plant person. She was utilitarian and clearly devoted to the Shadow's minimalist lifestyle. He didn't think she'd spend time caring for anything, much less something as trivial as a plant.
Not caring if he made a mess, Tim dumped the plant onto the floor. Damp soil scattered on the gray tile. He crouched and then ran his gloved fingers through the spilled dirt. It was soft between his gloves, recently watered. Not finding anything of interest among the pile, he paid more careful attention to the pot itself.
The ceramic pot was beige, left at its natural color, and unpainted. Tim turned it over in his hands. The thing was durable but not professionally made. It looked like the hands that crafted it were too small and ambitious for the initial throw. It reminded him of pottery class projects that his grade school peers took home to their parents from art class. Tim had never done that, of course. His creations had always sat unapprised on his bedroom shelves, as did all his art projects around that age. His parents had never been around to appreciate his artworks, and he wasn't sure he would have shown them even if they had been. They were master archeologists, after all, and accustomed to much finer things.
This one had a slight tilt to it, a lip over the edge that curled slightly under. Tim ran the pads of his fingers over that imperfection, wondering about the child who'd crafted it because, yes, he had now deduced that the maker was almost certainly a child.
The maker reminded him very much of himself, a kindred perfectionist. The slight flaw probably irritated them when it came out of the kiln. And yet, they'd kept it. As opposed to starting over, they'd been confident enough in their craft to gift it to the ever-critical Lady Shiva.
Turning over the pot in his hands, he pressed one hand to the bottom of the inside and then his other to that same surface but on the outside.
His hands were separated by two inches.
Shiva was utilitarian. Tim would never expect her to keep anything sentimental, much less the gift of a child within her quarters. Not unless it was useful.
"Huh," Tim huffed to himself, smiling at the cleverness. He'd underestimated this little maker. He removed his gloves, allowing his fingers to run unhindered along the smooth edges. It only took a few moments before his fingers landed on an edge so slight that no one would have noticed it if they weren't actively looking for it.
He pressed it, and the false bottom slipped free with a click.
Tim surprised himself by feeling disappointed. For some reason, he'd been hoping that he wouldn't find anything, that maybe Shiva had kept this gorgeous piece for sentimental reasons only. Tim suddenly felt terribly sorry for the child creator. A sticky and familiar feeling churned in his gut at the sight of the tiny USB secured in the false bottom.
"What's that?" Jason asked, stepping closer and leaning over Tim's shoulder.
Tim tucked that sticky feeling aside. Hopefully? He answered to himself. Some answers.
Tim wasn't foolish enough to put the USB into the data pad that he carried on his wrist. That was a surefire way to invite malware and potentially shut down Batman's whole computer system. Instead, ignoring Jason's question and too absorbed in his pursuit, he turned to the area of the room he hadn't yet explored, Shiva's workspace.
True to form, the space was also minimal and highly organized. The TVs with the security footage were its only extravagance, and a neatly stacked pile of files and a single monitor were on her desk.
Tim sat down in her chair and jammed the USB into the available USB port. His fingers thrummed on the desk surface as he waited. He was holding his breath.
And there. There it was. As Tim had expected, the USB wasn't only a data file but also a key. Shiva's workspace opened to them easily.
The USB was… packed. Files spanning years were neatly organized on the screen. Tim scanned them, lead filling his gut with every opened file.
"Oh fuck," Jason whispered.
Tim agreed wholeheartedly. This was… bad. Shiva's plan was so much worse than what Tim had anticipated. He'd thought that only Talia had been in the crosshairs of Shiva's ambition, but her goals extended much further than that. He'd figured that being promoted to Sensei of the League would be enough for her. But, of course, it wasn't. Not for someone like Lady Shiva.
Tim clicked through evidence that Shiva had been siphoning away funds and weapons from the League of Shadows, and not just since recently. She'd been doing it for years. And it wasn't only that. On that little device was a list of names of every recruit that she'd won to her cause. Being so close to the trainees was a strategic decision. Shiva was their Sensei. It was no question that they'd choose her over Slade Wilson when the crucial moment arrived…
Lady Shiva, chafing under Deathstroke's leadership, was orchestrating a coup of her very own.
Tim found himself increasingly in awe as he peeled away the layers of her plan. She'd done it slowly… carefully… methodically. She'd poisoned the Shadow's intel, keeping Slade's attention on Talia al Ghul. She'd made him think that Talia was his primary enemy. That she was the one gunning for his position.
It was ingenious. With all of Slade's attention on Talia, he'd wage war against the al Ghuls. And that's when Shiva would strike, armed with her loyalists and the weapons she'd kept for herself. Slade would be fighting a war on two fronts.
Typically Tim wouldn't have been concerned. In their world, gang factions fought all the time, and it was the Justice League's way to stay out of it and focus on more pressing dangers, alien invasions, and the like. But this conflict would span far beyond Santa Prisca. The League of Shadows was known to keep outposts and hideouts worldwide. And Shiva planned to deliver a massive offensive strike to every single one.
Slade Wilson had kept with Ra's al Ghul's methods of hiding these havens in plain sight. The hideouts were just like the safehouse that Jason and Tim had occupied back in Gotham, innocuously and strategically placed within cities, suburbs even. If these stations were attacked, there'd be casualties, many of them civilians.
Dread chilled Tim's spine as he came to his final conclusion, staring at Jason's profile zoomed in on the screen.
Shiva needed a trigger. She needed something to start all this, to set these plans in motion. She'd stolen the weapon, not to weaken Talia but to force her into retaliation. As soon as Tim and Jason were discovered, that would be all she needed to set everything in motion.
Shiva wasn't expecting Talia to send Jason; she was counting on it.
"We've got to get you out of here," Tim whispered.
They still had time. Only a little. And sure, they encountered those three agents in the hallway, but they'd been dispatched quick. It wasn't likely that they'd gotten a good look at Jason. They couldn't pin anything on him or Talia yet.
They needed to get out of there. Regroup. Tim didn't even care about the weapon at that point. All of this was so far out of his league. He could elicit help from Batman, the Team, or the Justice League if needed. They could come back for the weapon later. It's what Tim should have done from the start. Why had he thought that he could handle this on his own?
He'd been selfish, that's what. He was so totally absorbed in his quest to find Jason that he hadn't even considered the potential fallout from his decision, how all of this was so much bigger than him and his childhood obsession…
Tim glanced up at Jason standing above him. His mouth dropped slightly at the sight.
Any openness or collegiality that the two had shared moments before was shuttered away. Jason was rigid, his mask glaring at him. Tim had been used to that, but this was… hostile now. Dangerous.
Jason snarled, "Not without the weapon."
The man was being ridiculous, and Tim told him so. Sure, Tim could understand Jason's desire to redeem himself to Talia; Tim had tried to do the same when he'd been finally allowed to return to the Outsiders. But how could Jason not understand that by moving forward with this mission, he'd entrench Talia in an unwanted war in the process!?
Jason's head bobbed as he listened to Tim's reasoning, but when he spoke, he didn't budge. He stressed every word, "We're not leaving without the weapon."
The two glared at each other, hostility crackling between them. Tim had just been about to argue back when suddenly, the alarm blared. The red light in the corner of Shiva's room suddenly activated and bathed the room in a blinking blood red.
Tim slumped in his chair. They were out of time.
"Tim," Jason reached forward to grip his shoulder. It was intense and demanding, just hard enough to verge on pain. "Where is it?" he growled.
Tim sighed. There was no point in hiding it. It was too late now. He nodded his head to one of the computer screens behind him. "That room, top left corner. It's there."
It was the only screen that hadn't flickered between rooms; its camera remained still in its watch over the door. Tim had noticed it from the moment he surveyed the room but hadn't said anything; he'd been searching for other answers to his many questions.
At Tim's response, Jason's hand twitched towards the hilt of his saber—
The door burst open, and assassins spilled into the room.
Their conflict momentarily forgotten, the two sprang into action. Tim grabbed the USB and pulled his staff from his waist, efficiently going to work dispatching the assassins who attacked him. He twisted and rolled, using the minimally furnished place to his advantage. His staff had the freedom to swing, and he made the most of it. All around him, assassins went down, some with a shock to the gut, others a knockout to the face. He dodged and evaded their throws and kicks, absorbing the attacks he couldn't avoid. As he fought to the door, he contorted his body in ways only an acrobat could have taught him.
From the corner of his eye, Tim spotted Jason, and it was only because he was fighting for his life that he had the wherewithal to not stop and stare.
Jason fought with a mix of his sword and fists. His combat style was totally unique to him, a monstrous hybrid between two types of upbringings that worked in tandem with each other. All around him, assassins fell. A pile of bodies surrounded him as he also fought his way out of Shiva's room. His body moved fast, plowing through attackers in a way Tim had never seen before. He fought with the determination of a man who had everything to lose.
Jason had always been so beautiful when fighting. Tim had known that even when he'd been young. What had Tim compared the older boy to back then… the sun, maybe? Yes, the sun, so bright and so awful in its power. Tim hadn't remembered that in their recent time together. Too often, Jason's attacks had been directed against him, and Tim hadn't taken the time to really see. But watching Jason fight now, it was… magical.
Tim suddenly knew it then. He knew that if he went up against Jason, with his full rage directed at him, there was a strong chance that Tim wouldn't win. Tim thought of Jason's hand, that hand that had twitched for his saber…
And he made his choice.
"I'll go ahead," Tim said between gritted teeth, the words tasting of acid, "You hold them off." With that, he jumped, using his latest attacker's shoulders to propel him over the endless flood of Shadow agents that spilled through the door. He was just small enough that he was able to navigate his way through.
"Stop!" Jason roared. But the man could do nothing about it. Tim had already put a hefty number of agents between them, and Jason was left to fight them on his own. Of course, Tim still had to fight once he was out the door, finally out of the crowded space into the equally crowded hallway. But he lessened the strength behind his throws. He left his victims conscious. Barely. Just enough that when they revived, they'd be able to direct their attention to Jason when he eventually made it out the door. With cold resolve, Tim made his very own human obstacles.
Then, he dropped the smoke bomb he'd procured from his utility belt and disappeared into the gray.
With the path now clear between him and the room he was looking for, Tim ran. He reached for his wrist as his feet pounded beneath him. His fingers found his watch without looking; it was one he'd turned off at the very start of his mission to hide from everyone closest to him.
He turned it on, and a cacophony of voices exploded in his ear.
"TIM!" The voice belonged to Babs, "Where have you been!? Why the hell are you on Santa Prisca? Dick! Dick, I found him!"
"Tim!" Dick's voice was rushed and urgent, "Are you okay? What are you doing there?"
"I need help," Tim spoke between winded breaths, "An extraction. Discreetly. No time to explain."
"Fuck!" Bab's always did swear more than her Wonder Boyfriend. Tim could hear her clicking away on her keyboard, "It'll take some time. No one's around to Zeta tube!" She was referring to Halo and Cyborg, the only two supers who, through their fusing with alien tech, could instantly travel anywhere in the universe.
"Doesn't matter. We're on our way." And that voice, that voice, nearly made Tim stop in his tracks.
Bruce.
Gulping down a hard lump in his throat, Tim nodded even though no one was there to see it. Turning over his shoulder as he ran, he saw that his smoke bomb had worked as intended. All the assassins were still congregated around Shiva's room, and no one had followed him.
He skidded to a stop in front of the target door. It was locked, but only with a flimsy deadbolt. It was a recruit's room, meant to house, not hide anything.
Tim raised his leg and kicked. The door buckled and swung open.
"Okay," Tim breathed, "I'll meet you on the east beach. But I don't look like myself, I—"
Tim's words died in his throat, and the exclamations of his confused mentors were fuzzy in his ears.
The room was bare. There were no windows; it was only decorated with a clean cot lazily placed in the far corner. Crumpled white sheets spilled from the cot onto the cold slate tiles…
But seeing what was nestled in those sheets made Tim's mind short circuit, the following information processed only in fragments.
It was… a baby. No, a toddler, perhaps? Barely even that. He was just… so small. All by himself and still dressed in the very same sleeping clothes that he'd likely been stolen in. His tiny body was clothed in a soft green tunic. Tan cotton pants cinched over chubby ankles. The tiniest little toes peeked out from the sheets, dirty and without shoes. He wasn't even wearing socks. He appeared otherwise clean, thank goodness, if a little unkempt… but those little exposed toes… they looked so cold.
Tim's heart lurched as his attention drifted to the child's face, to his warm brown skin and dark tousled black hair. And those eyes. They were staring at Tim so intensely. They were dark in their green and wise beyond their years. The green was only further accentuated by the chapped red skin around them, the remnants of a very recent tantrum.
He was the spitting image of his mother.
Suddenly it dawned on Tim the true horror behind Shiva's plan. Why she'd been so positive of Talia's retaliation.
It was because this wasn't a retrieval mission for a weapon at all. It was a rescue.
Suddenly, an explosion erupted from the hallway. Tim just started to turn around when his vision went white. Cold metal was pressed into his back, and his body spasmed at awful angles before the electrocution finally ceased, and he sank to the floor. His muscles were slack and immovable. Unable to catch himself, his head smacked against the cool tile with an awful thunk on the way down.
Tim had fallen facing his attacker, who stepped into his line of sight. The man had now managed to give Tim not one but two concussions in only a few weeks. It was the same man Tim had silently betrayed only moments earlier and had answered in kind.
Jason Todd.
But despite his attack, Jason didn't spare Tim a glance. His attention was solely on the child. His body was stiff as if he dared not move lest he startle the boy.
"Hey there, Little Man," Jason finally whispered. Behind the mechanization of his mask, Jason's voice was wobbly, choked between words so thick, they seemed to get stuck in his throat. He lifted his mask, "There you are," he said softly, his voice no longer distorted. He gave a small smile, and Tim was shocked that his expression seemed unsure… hesitant even.
But the toddler did not shrink from him. Illuminated in the dim light, the child lifted his arms to Jason expectantly, as if he'd done it a thousand times before. "Day-Day," he whimpered.
Jason let out a horrible sound in his throat and fell to his knees before the child. He scooped him up and tucked him close to his chest. Jason's face was contorted, his teeth ground together as if he were in pain, maybe even holding back sobs. It was an expression so horrible that even while truly concussed, Tim had enough clarity to know he never wanted to see that expression on Jason's face again.
Jason buried his face in the child's neck. His shoulders crumpled inward, and his arms were taut with strain. It was as if he were fighting the urge to hold the child so tightly that they'd fuse together so that no one would ever dare separate them again. And yet, his hold was profoundly gentle, with one arm underneath the toddler's bottom and the other hand lightly holding the back of the child's head. His fingers ran through the child's dark hair.
"I'm sorry," Jason's whispers were broken. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." He repeated it over and over and over again.
Jason appeared so small at that moment it was unbearable.
Together in the dim light, the child tolerated the man's affection for a little while before he tired of it and let out a frustrated squawk. His tiny hand pushed against Jason's cheek, and his head shook furiously "no," as he tried to wiggle out of the man's grasp. "Day-Day," he complained fussily, his eyes scrunched in displeasure.
Jason gave a halfhearted chuckle as if he weren't quite ready to let go of the child and yet acquiesced to his demands. "Alright… alright… Little Man. Let's get you home." Jason took a deep breath as he stood and lowered his mask. He readjusted the child into the crook of his arm. The child, clearly well used to this position, settled easily on Jason's hip. The child turned his pensive green eyes back to Tim as if he were still unsure if he were a friend or foe.
"You weren't supposed to get this far… and it's like you said," Jason's voice was cold. "If they find out I was here, it'll be war. But if they find you, a Justice Leaguer, maybe that'll draw Slade's attention for a while. Buy us some time."
He paused, almost as if he wanted to say more…
But he didn't. He didn't apologize, didn't give Tim more of an explanation, and didn't look back either as he left through the door. Instead, he disappeared into the dark hallway. And just as he'd done seven years ago, he left Tim behind.
Gone.
A/N: Baby Dami unable to pronounce his "Js"? Be still my aching heart! Anyways! I hope this chapter was everything you hoped for! *nervously fades into distance* 👉👈
