It's Not Paranoia

Who was going into the JCPD holding cells had ultimately been a short list. Too many of them stood out. Too many didn't have the skills for this. When it came down to it, only three of them were capable.

Let's start with the first one to be crossed off: Kid Flash. His speed would mean he could get into the cells no problem. Being able to run faster than the human eye could keep up with was an advantage. Let's also add vibrating your molecules fast enough to phase through solid walls was the cherry on top. However, when it came to the actual question and staying on topic, that was where the teen from the future fell short.

Just because you could get in didn't mean you would be able to get what you came for. Kid Flash had been doing his best to stay on task. Really, he had. There were improvements. Interrogation took up too much mental faculties. You had to weigh every word, watch every movement, and detect any and all lies that came your way because there would be lies and lots of them. Sad to say, Kid Flash wasn't there yet.

Second on the shortlist was Raven. She had the intelligence and she had the ability to get through all the security measures. She could ask the questions they needed, come up with follow ups, and detect any and all deception. As a last ditch, she could use a different type of persuasion to get Gizmo to talk.

So what was the problem here? Well, patience, really. Don't get him wrong, Raven was unbelievably patient, but she didn't have the patience for bullshit. Unfortunately, according to Cyborg, Gizmo was full of bullshit. And when Raven's patience ran out, she could become loud and that was the last thing anyone needed here. The Teen Titans didn't have the strongest of bonds with the JCPD as those were still being built. Finding them sneaking in could destroy all that.

When it came down to it, there was only one person that Red Robin was willing to risk, and that was himself. He knew a thing or two about questioning. After trying to manage the herd of cats that were the Teen Titans, he felt his patience had gotten the workout of its life. Lastly, he would be able to remain in control even if Gizmo pushed at his buttons. There would be more for him to lose, so that was more motivation to keep his head cool.

However, that didn't mean he had to sneak in. Go back to Kid Flash's qualifications for any and all answers.

There was an art, he found, when it came to using superspeed while in a building full of people and reams upon reams of paper. To move at such accelerated speed without ruffling any clothes, or worse paper, took some skill. Unfortunately, there was no skill in holding back your lunch once a speedster stopped carrying you. Oh, it was just like when the Flash kidnapped him…

Okay, okay, he was getting better. Work through the disorientation, Drake. Power through this because you didn't have any time for it.

Kid Flash was keeping an eye out, making sure no one could sneak up on them. Just as well, Red Robin didn't feel too comfortable in a precinct full of cops. Cops didn't really like vigilantes no matter where it was. His association with the T.I.T.A.N. Initiative had some believing that he himself had some special powers of his own. Why else would he be part of the Initiative? He hadn't done anything to downplay that because you never knew when you could use that edge.

Alright, they were actually in the holding cells, past security and everything. If they got out of here without causing a ruckus, then he was going to have to give Kid Flash props. Now, which was the correct cell?

They were at the far end of a long hallway. That was part of the blueprints, and Cyborg was already in the system making sure no cameras alerted anyone to their presence. This was starting to feel a little like Gotham here. So, down the hallway and checking each cell he went.

He felt a little pride when his footsteps didn't cause too much noise. He had been practicing some stealth and so far it was starting to pay some dividends. Still, maybe having an actual expert help him with the finer points would go a long way.

Based on their intel, courtesy of Cyborg, this part of the holding cells were emptied out specifically for the three metahumans kept here. As a result, all the rest were filled to the brim, and so there was a pressing need to transfer the unwanted guests so as to reduce the pressures of high capacity. That was the only reason he passed empty cell after empty cell.

The first sign of life was a particular one. Oh, he recognized Shimmer, and he saw how she was still curled up, pressed against the wall. It made him wonder not for the first time what Raven did to her. There was really something not right about this. Sure, Shimmer was not a good person, and would kill him without a second thought, yet how would she ever answer for all the crimes she committed like this?

Raven may be putting a lot of pressure on him, but she had some explaining to do of her own.

The next cell was paydirt. Sitting up on a bench, and a not very comfortable one either, was Gizmo, his legs kicking much like a bored little kid's. He was grumbling, not happy, and unaware that he had a visitor.

Glancing up to the ceiling and spotting a small black dome, he gave a short wave to it. A second later, the computerized lock released, drawing Gizmo's attention. The teen vigilante was quick getting in and entering the little tech genius's personal space.

"What—"

"You got a lot of explaining to do," Red Robin interrupted, grabbing and clenching the thin material of the JCPD provided prison garb. Bright orange and loose, it made Gizmo look like a little kid trying to pretend to be a grown up.

"Like hell—"

He gave an abrupt shake, cutting the small male off. "What you think you're going to do doesn't matter. One way or another, you're talking, and you're going to do it right here and now."

Gizmo glared up at him, because not even the bench he sat on gave him enough height to look the masked teen in the eye. Then, the glare became a smirk. "Who says I have to? You don't look scary to me. You couldn't scare a baby looking like that."

Red Robin narrowed his eyes, but said nothing. He did not break eye contact, instead, allowing a hand to reach for his belt.

"You know what you look like? You look like you belong at one of those pride parades," Gizmo continued, grinning cheekily. "Say do you have a pocket full of glitter? Or confetti? Whichever is worse. You do, don't you? So weak! Who do you think you are? You're way over your head and you have no idea just how far over the barrel you're bent…unless that's what you like—ah!"

The teen vigilante held up his hand, a birdarang held between his fingers. It looked like nothing special, almost indistinguishable from the others he carried. He made sure the arrogant little prick could see it. "You felt that, didn't you?" he asked calmly, rhetorically. "Just a little shock, but enough to get your attention. Pay attention. It may not look it, but I made sure this could carry a voltage. Used right, it's a taser.

"Right now, you're probably thinking about screaming for help," he cut the small male off as that big mouth was opening up. "Knowing you, you've probably annoyed everyone enough that they'll deliberately take their time to see what's up with you. More than enough time for me to see just how powerful it is, and how long it will take for you to shit your pants. And do you really think they'll give a clean pair after? This goes depending on what you do and say next. Who are you working for this time?"

Gizmo gave a long snort then spat a loogie. It was so predictable the second the sound of air being forcefully inhaled gave the vigilante all the time he needed to get ready and tilt his head at the last second. The glob of phlegm flew by harmlessly, but the insult was readily received.

Clenching his jaw, Red Robin allowed a couple seconds to pass while his little adversary glowered below. "We found your cameras. All of them. You weren't just fighting us, you were recording us. Why."

"What makes you think I haven't recorded you before, crudmuncher?" Gizmo sneered back. "So I like to record. Big whoop."

"But do you put bombs in your cameras?" Red Robin interrupted because he knew more insults were coming. "If you weren't careful, you would have blown yourself up. Really nasty stuff. Too close, your body would have been ripped apart." A white lie there, even though Cyborg had said most of the damage would have been to the cameras themselves. Still, the hesitation he saw looked promising.

"Why should it matter to you?" the tech genius demanded. He didn't know, did he? Or if he did, he didn't know how powerful the explosives were.

"Because those cameras don't record, they broadcast. So who is watching? Obviously not you. The people you're working for this time? Definitely. So who are they?"

Gizmo looked less sure of himself. For a guy known for self-confidence and arrogance, and admittedly knowing his way around tech, how did he not know about that aspect of the cameras? The answer was obvious: he didn't make them, just set them up.

However, with arrogance came ego, and ego would do whatever it took to protect itself. "So you figured out the details? I did what I was told and built them that way. Of course I know they come with a bang! And why not broadcast? I got it all recording and everything and I'll use them to kill you all. You're a real pain in my ass, snoteater, and right now you're on my shit list, and buddy, I am going to shit all over everything you love. I'm going to bring so much pain—"

Lying again, and another slip. "I did what I was told." They were working for someone new. Claiming all the credit and making threats of violence? Covering for them while tending to his bruised ego. And he wasn't stopping any time soon.

Red Robin knew that the threat of violence was one of the tools Batman used. He used those stories of those acts to get the rest of the criminal world to fear him, and after enough stories, they would talk because their fear made them open up. No one wanted Batman bringing the pain to them and if talking stopped that, they would sing like canaries.

But is that what Red Robin wanted for himself? To be feared like that? To be the Batman of the West Coast? No one could be Batman, or the Batman of anything. He understood how difficult filling those big shoes were. Yet, it felt like, well, Raven was pushing him in that direction. And here Gizmo was proving to be a very tempting first story, if you knew what he meant.

He did need to shut him up because Gizmo was starting to repeat himself.

Red Robin jabbed an edge of the electrified birdarang into Gizmo's bare, lower arm and watched how the little, erm, man froze up. He kept it there for only a few seconds and then withdrew it, the tech genius slumping back. With his other hand, he pressed his palm on Gizmo's chest and shoved back, pressing him into the wall.

"You don't got a lot of time," he said calmly, too calmly. He didn't feel calm, but numb to be honest. "You're not going to be in Jump much longer. You got a trip to a prison designed for metahumans and once there, you're not getting out. Everything I know about you, the cops know, and no one will ever let a single piece of tech touch your hands. You'll never use a computer again. A TV remote. Tinker with a toaster. A tech fast that will last the rest of your life. You think you have it bad now? You have no idea. Oh, you'll say it's not a big deal, but give it a day. Two days. A week. A month. A year. Imagine it, never being able to look at a circuit board for a whole year. I don't think you've thought that hard yet, but you're about to find out. Tell me everything you know."

Gizmo was panting, recovering from the electrocution, and he heard him. There was uncertainty, a possible flash of horror, but then the little eyes closed off. "All I know is that you're dead. You and your little friends, you're all dead."

This was not the answer he wanted or needed. However, before he could press, Kid Flash was at the door.

"Red, they're coming. Gotta jet," the speedster hissed.

The smirk was returning to Gizmo's face, and while tempting to punch, Red Robin resisted. Well, not entirely. He gave a shove to Gizmo's small form as he stood up to his full height, literally looking down. Without another word, he marched over to Kid Flash who waited until the door to the cell was shut then took hold of him.

The world blurred again, and while he knew his stomach was going to be in a knot soon enough, he couldn't say it wasn't already in a knot due to frustration.


The transport van was on time. It had backed up to the precinct and was awaiting its passengers. JCPD was not messing around; they did not want metahumans in their holding cells, just as Red had believed.

Cyborg had to admit, Red seemed to be the one with the most experience when it came to cops. Don't get him wrong, he had had his…encounters with them. Less said the better. This meant he was perfectly fine with Red handling that stuff.

When their two infiltrators had returned, they had gotten the lowdown. Predictably, Gizmo was uncooperative, but he had a big mouth with no filter. Red had managed to gleam a couple important details, such as someone bigger was involved. Just like last time, and like last time, they didn't know who it was.

Perhaps the ride might give Gizmo something to reconsider. Sure there were the other two, and from what he saw of Shimmer, yeah, that was a no go there. That left the third one, the new guy. Through his robotic eye, he saw the dampeners on him, and he was kinda stumbling since his eyes…eye…his head was covered too. Two cops were escorting him bodily, making sure he reached the transport.

So basically, they were helpless, provided no tech got into Gizmo's hands. Three armed to the teeth SWATs entered the transport as well. That was some serious hardware they were carrying. The three metahumans looked like teens, and yet the cops had that kind of firepower to guard them? It really seemed like overkill.

The transport was going to be leaving any minute at this rate. Once the three passengers were secured, that van was going to be heading off. So what was that going to mean for them?

"Starfire, Raven, Wonder Girl, you keep to the air and don't let that van out of your sight," Red Robin listed out. "Everyone else, get back to the T-car. We'll keep track of them on the ground. Kid Flash, you're going ahead to make sure nothing is waiting for them."

"You think someone is going to try and attack it?" the speedster asked, giving voice to the question Cyborg had himself.

"We don't know, and it would be best to make sure they get to where they're going. Transport is where security will be at its weakest and the transport will be most vulnerable. We still need to find out what Gizmo knows," Red explained.

Because of course Gizmo knew something. What they needed to know was the big who and what they wanted to do. Cyborg disliked the cloak and dagger stuff; however, just because someone was out in and open didn't mean they were easier to take down either. It was obvious by now they were dealing with a cloak and dagger situation.

He had an aerial view, looking at the JCPD precinct from a building rooftop across the street. Backing away from his vantage, he made his way back across the rooftop and to the alley tucked away. Down there was his baby, his pride and joy, and the fruit of his mechanical labor, the T-car, and it was ready for some action. Even if it was just cruising down the highway, better than collecting dust.

Looking to his left hand, he activated a new program and watched as the hand detached and lowered itself to the ledge by his feet. A cable kept it connected, and with barely a thought, his delimbed hand latched on with its fingers. Without any hesitation, he walked off the building and let himself drop, only falling a few feet before the cable went taut. A couple seconds later, he began lowering himself to the ground below.

It was a new feature, and taking some inspiration from some grapples he knew a certain group of vigilantes used, he had designed his own grapple. While he was capable of doing some mighty leaps, flight was not his thing, and when you couldn't fly, you needed other options. So a grapple, and one he could control at every step.

His feet touched down, and so his hand released its grip, the cable being eaten up by his arm until hand met back with arm and reattached. No sooner had he done that when Beast Boy arrived, shifting back into his human form with Terra hot on his heels. Kid Flash just appeared out of thin air as always, and then lastly Red arrived, using his glider to descend.

"The girls will keep us updated when they leave. Get the T-car started," their team leader said. Then, before it could come into question, "Shotgun."

"Oh come on! I wanted the front!" Beast Boy exclaimed, erupting with protest. His arms were held out from his body and his green eyes were wide with indignation.

"You heard him, Green Bean," Cyborg told his friend even as he made his way to the driver's side door. "Rules of Shotgun are absolute. Should've been quicker on the draw."

The anger of one who has been denied their deepest, darkest wish replaced indignation. "That's a load of bull—"

It had started with a dull-sounding crash, but then the squealing of tires came next, screeching out into the night. Thanks to where they were, it was hard to pinpoint the source, though what remained of his gut told him the most likely place to go look first.

As if to confirm, "We got movement. Looks like Mammoth showed up," Wonder Girl reported in.

Not even hesitating, nor getting into the front passenger seat, Red ordered, "Protect that van. Don't let him do anything to damage it." Then to the rest of them, "It's getting started. Cyborg, bring the T-car with you for some extra firepower. Everyone else, cover the road. Beast Boy, you come from up high and back up the girls. Kid Flash, if Mammoth hasn't been taken care of, get him away from the transport. Terra, Cyborg, be ready for reinforcements because Mammoth sure as hell hasn't come alone."

The argument over Shotgun was tabled for the time being. There were a lot of nods and people went into action. That included him as he slipped into his baby and turned the ignition switch.

So Red's suspicions about the transport being attacked wasn't paranoia. Well, they could certainly use this chance to grab a few more others and see if they were willing to talk.


She saw it all as it got started. High up in the air, and out of sight of the cops, Wonder Girl had kept her eyes on the transport van as he started to head out. In the small, walled off lot where the pickup of its human cargo was, the large vehicle was heading towards a gate, one that was solid steel and slowly sliding open.

Your typical squad car was taking the lead, slipping in front of the van and stopping for the gate. Another few squad cars were picking up the rear along with a SWAT van. Someone looked like they weren't taking chances.

It kinda felt like overkill, but then Red had once told her about a caravan that had been escorting a mob boss in Gotham. Based on the numbers he had given her, this was much, much smaller. She really had no idea what to expect here, and that put her a little on edge. Not always a bad thing, but she disliked feeling paranoid.

Just as that thought had crossed her mind, enter Mammoth.

The gate had been about halfway opened when big, tall, and hairy himself pulled it open the rest of the way. Without skipping a beat, he ran and threw aside the front squad car, making his way to the transport van in record time. The thrown squad car landed on its side, skidding across pavement until it was stopped by a couple of parked cars.

The driver of the transport van seemed to think petal to the metal was a good idea, rubber screeched against asphalt as the vehicle sped forward. Mammoth caught it by the front, his feet digging in, and the sound of the collision of metal against reinforced human flash created an odd, dull boom. Tires that sought to keep moving forward could not and the rubber really began to peel as the van went nowhere, powerless against Mammoth's strength.

Raising a hand to an ear, "We got movement. Looks like Mammoth showed up," she said.

"Protect that van. Don't let him do anything to damage it."

Nice quick response there, Red. Looking to Starfire and Raven, the three of them gave quick nods, and then down they went to the rescue.

The armored blonde took the lead, rocketing her way to Mammoth. She had to angle herself so as not to slow herself down but hitting or running up against the van, yet also get a good path for Mammoth's face. With an arm cocked back, she swung her fist and struck the big guy in the side of his head, snapping it to a side.

To his credit, he almost but not quite dropped the transport van. He held on, readjusting his grip, the tenacious asshole, but it left him open for another hit, which Wonder Girl did not hold back on. With a hand planted on the van's hood, she spun her lowered body and flung a leg out, landing a kick to the other side of his head.

The van lurched forward, which caused Mammoth to either choose between defending himself or focusing on the vehicle. Surprisingly he chose the vehicle, grunted and snarling, but not retaliating.

Well, if that was the way he wanted it.

Without warning, her head jerked up while something tightened around her throat. The next thing Wonder Girl knew, she was thrown off the van's hood and flying over Mammoth. Her back collided with asphalt and she slid against the rough surface. That also meant some skin on the back of her arms got scraped as well.

A hand went to her throat; whatever had wrapped around it was gone, but she was on high alert and her body instantly rolled her out of the way. Out of the way of what? She wasn't too sure, but it had been moving and it was coming from above.

From her roll, the armored blonde was back on her feet, legs spread while using one arm to prop herself up, the other cocked and ready to lash out. What she found was some kind of reptile man, big and bulging with muscle, and with a head that seemed to grow out of a thick neck. A tail gave a little lash, and shrewd eyes watched her, waiting for what she would do next.

The answer was simple: she went on the attack. Feet kicked off pavement, she was flying, and so was her fist as it rushed to meet up with that weird head. And then she missed as reptile guy leaned back. Too late did she realize the vulnerable position she had put herself in, and unfortunately, so did he. A large, balled-up fist slammed into her ribs with enough force she was thrown away, her armor already covering up her torso in response.

Wonder Girl pushed through the pain, and that was the only reason she had for successfully blocking the kick swung at her, not unlike how she did with Mammoth. Her arm trembled, giving away how much force had been in that kick. Wow, those lessons with Starfire were paying off here.

She shoved back with her arm and swung another punch. Gravity was all that saved this overgrown lizard as he fell down to the pavement below. Not willing to give up, the armored blonde gave chase and when she got close, she threw yet another punch. This one landed against crossed arm, blunting her blow. However, it increased his speed as he hadn't yet made landfall.

That changed as the asphalt buckled under him, creating a large spider web of cracks to form under his feet. He peered over his arms in time to see her follow up hit, which was of course blocked. Bare feet dug deeper into broken asphalt and his broad upper body leaned back.

Her arm jerked to a side and caught the tail that tried to sneak up on her. Oh, she hadn't forgotten about it, but this guy seemed to have some brains behind that ugly mug of his. The tail didn't come out unless necessary or for surprise. Well, surprise this, she clamped her other hand on the appendage and began pulling, her body spinning around.

So too did lizard man who was at her mercy now as she spun faster and faster. One leg kicked out at her, a helm forming around her head absorbing the hit, but the message was clear. As you wish, sucker.

She let go, and the reptile guy was thrown across the lot, his body smacking the top of a parked car and continuing into the wall behind it. No sooner had the large, malformed body fallen down to the pavement did red and green lights flare up. There was crackling in the air, the kind that only came from fire. This wasn't over yet.

Whirling around, she could see Starfire was already fighting off a guy whose skin looked like lava and was firing off fireballs. Starbolts were lobbed right back at him. Raven, where was—over there being tagged team by that Wykkyd teleporter and Jinx. Mammoth was still holding onto the transport van and—

Gunfire! Bullets! The cops were taking aim and firing. Using their cars as shields, they hid from whatever enemy fire was directed their way. From behind their defenses, a familiar guy with a shield, and some luchador lady were attacking from behind.

"Turn your attention to your true foe, you fools! They are not your opponents but us!"

Well, one of them was shouting and it was the luchador. Luchadora. It was the wrestling-looking girl in the mask. She was demanding attention before going for the strike. Didn't really make much sense to Wonder Girl, because if you had the element of surprise, why not use it?

Damn it, things were getting crazy. Where the hell was everyone else?


The fighting was only getting more intense when Red Robin arrived. He recognized the players, knew they were all from the mall, and almost swore in his head. Why did he have to be right about the possibility of a jailbreak?

Later. Right now, it was time to break this up.

The gunfire drew his attention. The cops were trying to fight back, but they were being hit from behind. That made his decision for him, and with a birdarang already in hand, he threw it at the one with the shield.

The throwing projectile bounced off the edge of the shield and clipped the top of the yellow mask the guy wore. It brought him up short, stopping him from ramming into an officer that was scrambling to get out of the jailbreaker's way. It also gave Red Robin the chance to swoop in, literally, and use all his momentum to hit the guy back, booted feet slamming into the hexagonal shield.

To complete it all, the masked teen flipped back and landed onto the pavement, crouching while keeping his eyes on his opponent. Said opponent was quick to rebalance and sure enough spotted him.

"Not the girl, but you look easy enough," the yellow-masked male growled.

The rush was predictable, the shield leading the charge obvious, and Red Robin waited until the shield was thrusted out at him. He slipped to his right, evading the thrust that changed into a swipe, then swung a kick into the guy's gut.

There was an "oomph," but the shield-wielder took it like a champ. Muscular arms tried to come down and capture the vigilante's leg, but he continued to spin his body and pull his leg with him and out of danger.

His fist jutted out, and rammed into some ribs, getting both a grunt and a counterattack punch. Red Robin ducked, then reached out and grabbed the extended arm. It proved simple enough to flip his opponent over his shoulder and down onto the ground. The guy laid there in a daze for a moment, then rolled onto his front and pushed himself back onto his feet.

Red Robin fell into a defensive stance, waiting for the inevitable attack. He wasn't disappointed as his opponent ran at him, yelling. The shield arm punched forward, the masked teen jerking his head out of the way, then doing the same with the following punch from the shieldless arm. He kept dodging punch after punch, then ducked abruptly. The passing punch collided with the side of a cop car.

The car crumpled in, the shield wedging into the frame. One of his ways to slip out was now blocked off, the shield guy knew this too judging by the bloodthirsty grin he wore. The shieldless arm came swinging, but Red Robin slid as close to the extended shield-wielding arm as he could. A yellow-gloved fist rammed into the car window, the Plexiglas becoming a white mess of cracks as it was designed to do.

Seemingly, the vigilante was trapped. Raising both of his arms up, Red Robin slammed both of his palms onto either side of his opponent's head, right where the ears were. The guy cried out and wretched his arms away from the cop car, bits of Plexiglas falling to the ground. Yellow-gloved hands slapped onto a yellow-colored mask, and the opening was too tempting to ignore.

Like Starfire had ingrained into him through all that physical education, he threw several quick strikes into a vulnerable torso, starting with the gut region, branching out to ribs, and when shield guy was bending over, an uppercut snapped his head back and then carried the rest of the body with it.

Okay, he wasn't getting up, so the masked teen could move on to the next one. He could see Terra intervening in Starfire's fight, and all the flame was doing little against the large chunks of earth that the geokinetic was throwing about. Yeah, much of the lot was now pockmarked because where else would she get rocks that big, but she had lava guy on the ropes. That enabled the Tamaranean to divert her attention to the female wrestler who seemed to have issued out a challenge to her.

He noticed Kid Flash racing about, moving various cops out of the way and into the clear. When the speedster wasn't doing that, he was tag teaming with Raven and holding off the duo of Jinx and Wykkyd. That left…

Red Robin ducked as Mammoth flew overhead. A certain green shapeshifter was giving chase, shifting from the form of a cheetah and into a constrictor snake, boa, anaconda, or python, it was hard to say, but Beast Boy was wrapping up the enemy muscle as quickly and literally as he could. Speaking of muscle—over there. Wonder Girl was dealing with a monstrous enemy, one that didn't rely entirely on brute force if those moves he or it was using was anything to go by. The armored blonde was keeping up a fast pace, not slowing down as she barreled down on the lizard-like foe.

Slipping out a birdarang, he judged that Mammoth needed to be dealt with first. He thought it a bit odd that Cyborg hadn't white shown up yet. It shouldn't be taking him so long to show up. Unless there was some unexpected rush hour traffic, but this late at night? Regardless, that could be touched on later. First, stop this jailbreak in its tracks.

Abruptly he stopped and snapped his head to a side. Was it him, or had that been a clinking sound that didn't quite belong—

His torso twisted, and his birdarang was thrown, striking the grenade that had bounced off broken pavement. In a split second, he brought his hardening cape up just as the redirected incendiary device detonated. He was thrown back and off of his feet until he was stopped by none other than the cop car that had been damaged in his recent fight.

Oh, he was going to feel that in the morning, but he snapped to, finding himself on the ground and arms at his sides, his shielding cape not offering a defense as a result. He blinked, bringing his head up and instantly spotted a newcomer.

The coloration of silver, black, and red was new. Take into account the height, the hints that this was clearly a man and not a teen, and the smirk on his face was definitely aggravating, and Red Robin knew that this was another threat.

"Not bad," the man said. "Managed to get enough distance right before the explosion. You're quick to improvise, aren't you?"

With his back to the car, Red Robin pushed himself back onto his feet. "Who are you?" he demanded.

The smirk grew wider as an arm reached behind the newcomer's back, and then the hiss of metal cut through all the noise and fighting as a sword was pulled into sight. A red-gloved hand gripped the pommel tightly, and the long blade was held out and the masked teen knew who the first target was.

"The only thing you need to know about me is that I am your killer," the costumed man said, and before Red Robin could say or banter back, he lunged forward, light reflecting off the sharpened blade that was aiming right for his heart.