We're Heading to Mexico
For something that was suppose to be a prototype, Cyborg had outdone himself a bit. There was no paint on it, but the aircraft practically shined when it was met with sunlight. Couldn't quite get past the gray that was polished to the point it could reflect all light.
It was long, somewhat stretched, and you could tell thought was put in to making the center of the craft an area to hold multiple people. However, it seemed like more attention needed to be put in for the propulsion systems, the weapon systems, and at minimum life support systems. So at the last minute, what would have been an area to hold maybe ten people was converted into your standard two person cockpit.
That brought up problem one: how do you fit three people with two seats? Unfortunately, the answer was…simple.
See, Cyborg had designed this plane of his to connect with him. He needed to be free to fly it. Plugs needed to be connected to ports, the computer systems turned on and running, so the cybernetic teen needed to be as unhindered as possible. That left the back seat, one that was roomy, perhaps an experiment to see what could be gotten away with when the follow-up design did include seating for more than two people. Clearly, the second seat was designed for a passenger and not a copilot.
So, one person had to sit on the lap of the other. The obvious, simplest solution. Red Robin figured that the taller person would take the seat and the shorter would take the lap. Turns out, Miguel was taller than him. Then, before he could try and make an argument that the heavier person should take the seat, Miguel had already taken it.
It was awkward. He hadn't sat on anyone's lap since he was a kid with his parents. Now he was—no, no, we're not thinking about this. Don't even look at Miguel who he suspected might be enjoying a bit more.
To distract himself, he peered through the Plexiglas that was the only thing that stood between them and the world rushing past them. There wasn't much to see; the sky above and the horizon on either side. Below, though, were the waters of the Pacific and they were much closer than a plane would normally allow.
The reason they were this close to the ocean was to first keep under the radar. No sense letting anybody know that they were crossing international borders. Multiple agencies and organizations had too many eyes on America's southern border, so while swinging around via the Pacific was one way very few people were watching, radar was still a thing. A plane nobody knew and would immediately suspect of being up to something was another situation to avoid.
Yes, it was going to make the trip longer, but if they were detected, whoever their enemy was would get a heads up of what they were up to. There was a piece of the puzzle in El Chilar, Mexico, and Red Robin was willing to bet it was a piece that certain people did not want being found.
So keeping this under wraps and radar was important. The person pulling the strings here would not know that they had a vulnerability and one that the Titans might be able to take advantage of. Figuring out what the end game was would allow them to do what they do best and mess it all up.
Comfort was just a sacrifice for this.
"We're just getting around Baja," Cyborg announced. "Starting to turn us east. We're going to be trading blue for green in a bit."
They were just going around the long strip of a peninsula on Mexico's western coast. Their destination was closer to the heartland of the country in question, a little west of the country's center. This was also an area that had some cartel activity so that was another reason to keep this on the down low.
If there was at least one thing he could appreciate so far, Cyborg had gone all out on sound dampeners. You could barely hear the hum that was the roaring engines and turbines. It was the only consolation he had when he directed his next words to the owner of the lap he was sitting in.
"Once we pass the coast, we'll need to rely on your knowledge of the area. We'll try to touch down just outside the village but satellite imagery can only give us so much."
The masked teen didn't need to look behind to know that Miguel was giving some thought to this. "We might want to try landing west. There's some flat spots over there. This thing needs to land on something flat, right?" Before he could get an answer, "Oh, there's not a lot of cover over there. Someone could walk along and see it. We might need to find some bushes or trees, use some branches to hide it."
Cyborg gave a chuckle. "The T-car ain't the only thing with an incognito mode. You point out a good place to land this baby and I'll handle the rest."
Hopefully this wouldn't take too long. So far this trip had been awkward enough as it was. And then there would be the return trip. Well, that would depend on whether or not Miguel chose to come back with them, and he had a feeling this guy would want to see this thing to its end.
No rest or comfort for the righteous, eh?
There was a saying that you can rest when you're dead. That person must have never felt dead tired before. Cassie had stayed up way, way, way late, and it had been one thing after another. She was still feeling the lingering traces that came from adrenaline and right now there was no further danger.
So why couldn't she have a decent nap already?
Her mind was racing with so many thoughts. First was, of all things, her armor. It had been some time since she had stumbled on it but never had it acted the way it had last night. Nor had she ever fought like that before. She could swear that her every movement was being guided but then she didn't resist and went right along with it.
What was up with it? What was it? What was so special about those monsters that Raven accidentally created that caused her armor to act that way? Speaking of, maybe Raven should be asking more questions about her powers instead of trying to lord over her. How did she not figure out that at the end of the day—eh, night that she was fighting her own powers?
But then…Raven's powers and her armor, was there some kind of connection? That magical rope that came as an accessory, she had never seen it glow so red…
Huh. Red. First time she held it, she could have sworn it glowed gold. When was the last time it had glowed that way?
She didn't know. She didn't remember and it was frustrating and…and…maybe she needed to pick Red's brain on this. The two of them had met first and she wasn't sure if the lasso had been gold at the time, but if it had, maybe he'd remember what color that lasso had been. But no, he was heading off to Mexico.
Such poor timing too. It wasn't just her armor and lasso she wanted to talk about with him. Last night. Last night had been an attempt to…to try to be normal with him and then it got…well, it didn't go in a direction that she objected to.
What did it mean for him, though? She knew what it meant for her. Were they…could they…could they mean something more to one another? Was Red…Tim willing? Did it get through his oblivious head because while the guy could be smart, there were some things he was a n00b about and she wasn't going to put this one past him to be something that did go over his head.
All this thinking, it was giving her a headache. Fortunately, she had a fix for that. Nothing like working it out of your system than by just doing that. Some movement, a lot of movement, perhaps fists involved, might help her clear her head.
In the first training room she found, that one already had Starfire in it. The Tamaranean seemed to have the same idea as her. She was flying around the room, practically an orange blur and was she seeing things or was her hair on fire? Maybe she was more tired than she thought, but in the mood for sleep she was not.
It didn't take much to call down her alien friend, and from there it didn't take much convincing to get a spar going. They both understood the fighting mindset, perhaps better than the others. Wonder Girl would easily admit that Kori was the better fighter but that didn't mean that the blonde was just going to let herself be walked over.
From there, it really was their fists talking. Starfire went more defensive, blocking and parrying while Wonder Girl just threw punch after punch with some jabs and feints to spruce it up. There was power in her arms and the feeling was confirmed again and again every time a fist was thrown. Air may have been the only thing to feel her might and the slight pressure that Kori used that would throw her aim off ensured only the air would know.
She pressed forward, adding some kicks to spice things up. Kori's upper arms shielded herself. Keep the footwork fast, try and see if she could trip up the Tamaranean. It wasn't working so far and it was becoming more and more obvious that Kori had full control.
Was that why Red had picked Kori to lead? Now where the hell had that thought come from? She wasn't jeal—
A palm nearly rammed into her face and Wonder Girl was only just able to tilt her head out of the way. Now she was on the defensive, Kori's strikes lightning fast though it was clear the Tamaranean wasn't giving her all. She was holding back, but not enough to resist taking advantage of the blonde's distraction.
Use the gauntlets, left, right, they were holding up, and she swung a leg into a high kick and retook the offensive from there. Good, now she was leading the dance now.
Kori was letting her do it. Was this how either of them fought against Ravager? The guy seemed to be fast, so maybe she should pick up the speed. That meant not using the full extent of her reach but also getting into closer quarters. More jabs now and Kori was backpedaling. Keep up the pressure, force a mistake.
Damn, her eagerness was the new distraction because Kori managed a quick rap to her ribs, not enough to activate her armor's defenses but enough to throw a little shock into her body. She was letting herself get lulled. Need to fix that.
Was it because Starfire was a better leader? Why was she back on that topic again? Was she slighted? Did she feel slighted by being passed over? Why did she care? She never wanted to lead this crew of weirdos. Then again, she was a weirdo herself by association, right? Of course Red would know she wasn't interested in leading so why Kori…? Going back in circles again.
Speaking of circles, the two of them had put some distance between themselves and were physically doing that, never taking their eyes off of one another. A step to her left had Kori doing the same. Bodies were tense, muscles strained under the skin, and eyes were wide to take in everything.
A misstep, it wasn't clear who did it, but it had the armored blonde rushing forward. A fist was thrown, a punch was dodged, a countering uppercut was coming, but leaning back avoided that, so a follow up armored fist swung only to be caught. An orange fist tried its luck, but Wonder Girl took a page from the Tamaranean's book and caught that. Grappling was all that could take place there, both of them exerting raw strength against one another.
Muscles were bulging, sweat wetted skin, and the windows that were the eyes only showed determination from both of the blue and green hues. Neither was willing to give in here. When it came to strength, pure physical strength, which of the two of them was stronger? With tendons straining and wills unyielding, they might find out today.
Perhaps she might figure out if there was some substance to the choice of Starfire. Perhaps the two of them might learn something of one another. Maybe thinking was too distracting because she nearly lost her hold on Starfire's fist.
It's easy to keep your eye on the prize when you knew what it was. As of now, Wonder Girl knew not what prize she was fighting for, but whatever it was, she was determined to get it.
Raven was back in her sanctuary, seated on her bed with her legs crossed and her back straight. Posture was impeccable, her head was held upright, and her eyes were shut to at least seal off one potential source of distraction.
From her lips, slowly and without purpose, the words Azarath, Metrion, and Zinthos were spoken in repetition and in order. Not once was there a mistake. Her face was the very look of serenity, blank and pure and unmarred.
Her mind was nothing like that. A tempest raged, a combination of high stress, no sleep, constant movement, and using a very risky ability had battered her internal defenses to the near breaking point. Even now, the malicious memories of Ravager were acting as his moniker and doing so to her mind.
Another putrid soul that her demonic essence had touched; it was always easier for their darker impulses to slip through. Control was necessary, and tuning out everything to repair her mental defenses was one of the best methods she knew to accomplish this. Compartmentalize, take each foreign memory and place it in a box, seal it up, and isolated until it could be neutralized safely; that was one of many methods she had been taught in Azarath.
From early on, she had been taught why it was so important to control her feelings and her powers. One slip had only confirmed why it was important. It was to her shame and frustration that it had happened again.
Perhaps she hadn't been able to contain all of her emotions. Pride could be considered one under certain circumstances and her ability to remain calm while her teammates fell to doubt and uncertainty was a major source of it. To be able to withstand the onslaught of idiocy from certain males without ripping them body and soul apart should guarantee her sainthood.
She could never confirm that she felt afraid, not to Garfield especially. That was one ego she wanted no part in inflating. It was lucky for her that the only one who knew for sure seemed content to keep it to himself. Had he been a real leader, he would have informed the others by now and for once that lack of responsibility was working in her favor. It figured that Red Robin would step up when it was least convenient for her.
But there would need to be a longer talk. In particular, what happened in this tower could not become public knowledge. Especially, it did not need to reach the ears of Dr. Fate. Why that man hadn't intervened, who was to say, but the wards he had placed on the tower had been a boon. Even if the nightmares she had unconsciously brought to life had taken over, they would have never been able to leave.
Eventually, Fate would have come. There was no way he would not have. Those creatures would have begun to attack the wards from within, of that she was sure, and then it would have become…messy.
Much like her thoughts were now, damn it.
Raven paused in her meditation, then adjusted her body, getting more comfortable, and began again, clearing her mind of everything, including intrusive contemplations. Her breathing evened and the chanting began again. Through closed eyes, all she saw was black, unmoving and unchanging. Find the center, concentrate, and allow all to fade.
Then begin to compartmentalize again. Collect the negativity. Contain and seal it. Continue to the next and repeat. Do so again and again until you finished.
Time was immaterial. Meaningless. All that mattered was the calm. The still. The nothingness. How could anything evil survive in such a state? Like everything else, it couldn't. It needed to feed and do so from a host. Deprive it, deny it, kill it. That is what the state of nothingness could do. Repetition would bore the mind, leave nothing to accidentally give this foreign remnant a purchase.
For all the advantages that could be afforded by releasing her soulself, the consequences and aftereffects demanded immediate attention. For her, Ravager's motives could wait. She needed to separate anything that did not originate from her and remove everything else. Who knew what that kind of taint would do to her emotions, especially after they were pressed to their limits so recently.
Tension suddenly gripped her body. Even the sought out serenity that was the goal of her meditations wavered. There was a sensation, the kind associated with eyes watching you. No, not watching, searching. Seeking. Nothingness is where her mind retreated and waited, waited for the eyes to pass over and search elsewhere.
There was a heaviness to the detected gaze. It did not feel…physical. Immaterial more like, or at the very least one that was peering through a veil. It was so very distance, and there was nothing that seemed like it came from nearby.
She would know if someone had entered her room; their emotions would have brushed against her mind and given them away. Passively, she allowed her defenses to lower if only so she could pinpoint where any and all sources of emotions were in the immediate area. Quickly enough, she found everyone sans Red Robin, Cyborg, and Miguel. All were nowhere near her room.
The gaze belonged to someone else—
Defenses were raised quickly and Raven could feel her heart pounding. Everything was still, every second was an hour's length, and the heaviness from the intangible gaze seem to rest heavy on her…
…until it wasn't. It slipped away, as if looking elsewhere, and finally she could take another breath. When had she stopped her breathing? For how long had she been waiting? And what was the cause of this…disturbance…
There was a twinge of fear, one that was immediately stamped down upon. There was enough of that emotion already. Excluding last night, there had only been one other occasion that she had felt that particular emotion and now, as she was realizing, the source of the gaze.
The last time had been in Azarath. It had been the same day that she had met him, the one person in all of existence who she sought to remain hidden from. It seemed there was a lot more damage from last night than she had previously believed.
Fate's wards were still up, but the fact that she had even felt his gaze meant that the wards may not be enough, that Fate himself was perhaps not up to the task.
After all, the last thing she wanted was her father finding her.
Last night, as her powers raged out of control, it would have acted as a beacon, drawing his notice. The wards should have hidden it all, unless there had been a blind spot. Raven knew precious little about Dr. Fate, and barely understood all that the man was capable of. Magic for certain, communing with one of the eldest gods in the universe, and acting as an agent of Order were givens. None of those took into account emotion, though.
The danger was greater now, perhaps more than it had ever been. The chances that her teammates were safe were much smaller than she had anticipated. Maybe…maybe she needed to leave. To protect them from her. From everything horrible that she could unleash.
To…vainly protect them from the demon with designs on their home.
What was she to do? What could she do?
Answers were not forthcoming and meditation could not give them.
The weather was hotter in this part of the world. The heat from the engines did not help with that. Foliage littered the area, mostly shrubs with small trees provided the only cover you'd see in the area. Guess this was where incognito mode came in.
Miguel looked shocked when Cyborg's prototype plane became see-through, then he began to geek out about it. Cyborg looked ready to go into a lengthy explanation of how it worked. They could do that on the trip back.
"The village should be close by. Unless someone saw us land, I don't think anyone will be expecting us," Red Robin said aloud, drawing all attention to himself. "Miguel, lead us in. Our first stop should be Abejas' home. If that's where everything went down, that's where we want to go first."
Miguel gave a nod and gestured with an arm. "This way. Be careful, there might be some rattlesnakes around."
Shoes, boots, and titanium feet crunched against dried vegetation and gravel-like dirt. Overhead, the sun shined down with no mercy. The local wildlife was quiet, for now. Give it some time and it would come back to life once more.
They were going uphill, that much the masked teen could figure out. It wasn't a steep climb, but he could feel the effort in his legs after a moment. There was a part of him that wondered why they were this far out here, and why he was dressed in a form-fitting costume that held in heat rather than allowed some breathing room. It was going to be soaked through before everything was said and done.
"I've been running around this place for years," Miguel remarked, easily sidestepping a bush whose leaves were long with pointy tips. "Feels somewhat different this time, you know? I've always gone out here from home, but now I'm heading to it after leaving it."
Cyborg had an arm up and was working at a panel in the lower part of it. "Hey, Miguel, mind if I ask you something?"
"Shoot, mi amigo," their local guide, newly returned, answered.
"No one back home is going to freak out when they see us, right?" Cyborg looked up from his arm to settle the gaze of both of his eyes, human and robotic, on the Hispanic teen. "We don't need to be making a scene here."
Miguel paused, which meant he also came to a full stop. Red Robin and Cyborg did the same and waited.
"It…might be a better idea if I scout it out first. These are just simple folk trying to live their lives. None of them want to be part of something bigger." Miguel scratched the back of his head while trying to give a winning, if not unsure, smile. There was another hesitation followed by, "I have no idea how my folks are going to act. I kinda took off and…left a note."
Runaway. Damn. So more to add to an illegal border crossing. Red Robin felt those were better pushed to the side for now. There were other matters that they needed to be concerned with, in particular the loose connection between the incident that happened here in El Chilar and Jinx's gang. The only evidence they had were two identical communicators to support that connection, so while there was some promise, this could still be a long shot.
Diplomatically, "We'll hang back once we start seeing buildings. Do what you need to do but get back as soon as possible."
Miguel gave a sigh but he nodded his head all the same. Minutes would tick by, Red Robin keeping an eye out for…well, pretty much anything. They were in a foreign environment and there was a reputation for it that pointed to danger. It was a shame there was no map around for cartel territory. If any of that element found them, it would put the villagers in more danger and it would not be good for the two Titans here. Some people really did settle for less.
True to his word, when the first rooftops came into view, Red Robin and Cyborg hung back while Miguel continued on. Was it him, or did the Hispanic teen look more like a man heading for the gallows? That might gel with the runaway info given earlier. There just might be a big reaction to him returning, one that might be loud and take a lot of time. Family was a big deal in Hispanic culture, now that he reflected on it.
Everything was quiet, at least for a while. Then he heard the sounds of a commotion from the village. With a look to Cyborg, the cybernetic teen got an overhead view from any satellite he could tap into just to make sure it wasn't caused by a more sinister occurrence.
"I'm not seeing any activity. You know, jeeps and vans driving in," Cyborg reported.
"Then Miguel's mom must be giving him an earful," Red Robin remarked.
"Somebody needs to work on their stealth, then," Cyborg replied. "You'd never see me get caught sneaking back in."
The same for him. He had mastered the art of sneaking back into the house years ago. What teen didn't sneak out of the house? Well, probably the kind that didn't have a lot going for it. In a small enough place, what would be the point? It would have to be something that someone up north would think as insignificant, like sneaking a single bottle of booze and getting wasted outside of the town. Huge raves may not be on the menu for El Chilar.
That wasn't taking into account teenaged vigilantism either.
For the better part of an hour, they waited until Miguel finally returned. His cheeks were flushed a little red, whether from embarrassment or shame, who could say. When their local came within whisper distance, "We're gonna want to circle around. Abejas lived on the north side, right on the edge. It'll be a bit steep getting there,"
"Did you sneak away or did you tell your folks what was up?" Red Robin asked.
"A bit of both? They just know I brought some professionals that are going to be doing a look around," Miguel admitted.
So someone would know they were here. Damn. Well, nothing for it.
"Take us to Abejas' place. Let's try to keep as low a profile as we can," the masked teen said, holding back a sigh.
