In the Batcave, Tim's fingers clicked on the keys of the Batcomputer, images of criminals flashing across the screen.
"Timbo, what's the situation?" Jason inquired.
"We've got a guy behind the wheel, driving like a maniac, running people down, and shooting."
"Any details on their numbers, identities, and objectives?"
"From the CCTV feeds, at least three individuals in the truck: the driver, the shooter, and a third unidentified person. The computer IDed the driver and shooter as members of a gang called Black Scorpions," Tim explained.
"Ugh... What kind of ridiculous name is that?" Jason scoffed.
"Seriously, why is it always 'Black' something? Do other colors not exist?" Dick mused
"Imagine the Pink Scorpions," Jason chuckled.
"No, no, The Rainbow Sc—"
"Guys Focus!" Tim interjected. "There's no clear motive for their actions today. It's bizarre. Why would a gang create such chaos with a truck? Staying under the radar would be a smarter move."
"Gotham's criminals never follow the rules or make much sense. Where's B? Still at the League?" Asked Dick while directing himself to the equipment room to get dressed.
"Yes. He said we should contact him only in last case. I'll keep you both informed if I get anymore information and Oracle is taking care of the comms."
"Alright, I'll go with my bike, it'll be easier to follow them." Interjected Jason.
"AndI'll go through the roughs. I'll attempt to infiltrate the truck and put a stop to it. I bet with you that I can take everyone down before you can even get there."
"It's on, Dickface," Jason retorted as he raced for his bike.
"Hey, what happened to the Golden Boy?" Dick exclaimed with laughter, and both left the Batcave.
Red Hood wasn't one for sentimental talks or embraces, but he couldn't deny the comfort of the familiar feeling that emerged when he fought alongside his brothers, especially with Dick around. It brought back buried memories from after the pit, a sensation he secretly welcomed.
It was a sense of belonging, a reminder that, no matter what, he had someone to rely on. Dick was the first to evoke that feeling. Despite their initial encounters while he was still with Ra's al Ghul, which were, to put it lightly, tumultuous and unsettling, he'd rather not dwell on those times.
"Yo, Timbo, how far?" Jason inquired through his comm.
"Take the left turn, you'll catch up. Hurry, they're driving erratically for this busy Gotham road."
"Hurry up or you'll miss all the fun," Nightwing said, swinging across the rooftops.
"Show off..." Red Hood murmured, a grin playing on his lips.
Nightwing took in the chaos caused by the reckless driving and senseless shooting.
"Red, keep tailing them. I'll get onto the truck," he radioed.
"Got it." Red was focused. Lost for so long, struggling with hurt, disappointment, and constant anger, he finally found his place.
Not a return to his old self but a new place where his flaws were accepted by his brothers, especially Dick, who had been the main influence. Despite Jason's punches, kicks, and turmoil, Dick extended his hand, always assuring, "Everything will be alright," and he believed it.
Red Hood felt a deep need to prove he deserved that support, to show he wasn't entirely shattered. In Gotham, everything was a struggle, but his family made it all worthwhile.
Nightwing leaped from the roof to the truck precisely as Red whispered through the comms, "Be careful." The difference in speed nearly threw him off balance, but he managed to hold onto the truck, crawling across its roof before descending next to the driver's window.
"Hey, any space for one more?"
Nightwing anticipated the attack, countering the elbow strike with a swift punch to the guy's face. Without missing a beat, he maneuvered, taking the wheel, and forcibly ejected the thug before diving into the truck.
"So, where to, buddy? No need to answer, I've got you figured out," Nightwing remarked, taking control of the wheel. With one hand on the steering, he swiftly incapacitated the other thug with a powerful elbow strike.
However, his attention diverted upon spotting the Torrent gun in the back of the truck.
Another goon was opening the double back doors and unleashing a barrage of shots that sent Red's bike crashing.
"Red!!" Nightwing's concern reverberated in the chaos. Determined, he scanned the surroundings, urgently plotting a plan to halt the truck; more casualties were imminent. 'There, that abandoned warehouse!' Racing towards it, he rammed the truck against its aged wooden doors, dislodging the assailant and initiating a sequence of quick movements towards the back of the vehicle.
But, at that critical moment, a thug aimed a gun at Nightwing. As the truck hurtled towards the wall, Nightwing, in a desperate bid to protect both himself and his enemy, grappled with the assailant