From Gotham to Las Vegas

WHERE IS HE?

"Five men were arrested just a few hours ago.  They were arrested for possession of illegal firearms.  Authorities believe they were more, but cannot be sure at the moment," the reporter spoke from the television.

Jason turned the television off as Dick entered the room.

"Have you taken your turn interrogating yet?" Jason asked Dick.

"I tried all the usual stuff, but all he said was he didn't want to become be Zsasz's knife sharpener," Dick sighed.

"Did Damian try?"

"Nope.  He's talking to Barbara about same new intel," Dick replied.

"I guess you want me to give it a swing then?"

"Well, yeah."

"Fine, okay," Jason huffed, rising to his feet.  "Where is he?"

"I lost the coin flip so he's in my room," Dick sighed again.

Jason slid on a spare domino mask instead of his usual helmet and went to the thermostat to increase the room temperature thirty degrees higher.  Immediately after he entered the room, Dick went to his laptop, which was recording the interrogations to keep on record.  After all, Bruce was notoriously anal about keeping massively extensive records on all criminals he encountered.

"Wh-whatever you do, I'm not saying jack shit," the thug snarled immediately after seeing Red Hood.

"Remember in elementary school when they had you label the parts of a story?  Beginning, middle, and end?"

 "S- so?"

"I'm going to give you three chances to tell me where Zsasz is and who hired him.  Before our interrogation, I'll give you a chance to avoid the pain and tell me.  In the middle of our interrogation, I'll give you a chance to tell me.  And at the end, you will tell me who me," Red Hood said calmly.

"Fuck yo-"

"Fuck me?  I'm sure you would like to, but I don't swing that way," Red Hood retorted.

"I joined the gang just a few hours after you guys nabbed us, I don't know anything," the thug said.

"Somehow, I highly doubt that."  Red Hood took the man's face and slammed him to the nearest table.

"Honest, I don't know anything," the thug pleaded.

"The only thing I want to hear from you is a moan of pain or the information I'm looking for," Red Hood said menacingly.

"I rather die than tell you douches Mister Zsasz's location."

Red Hood kicked the thug in the family jewels.  "You feeling a little more cooperative?"

"Go to hell," moaned the thug.

Red Hood grabbed the thug by his collar and put him against the wall.

"WHO DOES ZSASZ WORK FOR?"  Red Hood threw the man to the ground.  Putting his foot against the man's face, he asked, "WHERE IS HE?"

"You'll never find him," the man managed out.

Grinding his foot on the man's face he demanded, "TELL ME WHERE HE IS!"

"I won't talk, I won't," the man said, taking a deep breath.

Red Hood pressed his knee into his throat, whites of his domino mask narrowing threateningly.  "I've got a knife and a baseball bat.  You have a choice right now; you can make me decide whether or not to let you go or you can make me decide if I'm going to gut you or beat you to death."

"I don't know anything," the man gasped.

Red Hood sighed, standing.  "Personally, I like knives.  Cleaner cuts, cleaner job, you know?"

He retrieved a blade from the inside of his leather jacket, examining the edge of the knife with the nonchalance of a man sending an e-mail to his boss.

Catching the man staring at the knife, Red Hood shot him a twisted grin.  "Listen," he said, squatting down beside the crumpled man.  "People are dying.  And it's my job to make it stop.  So this can be easy or this can be hard."

The man just looked at him, eyes wide with terror.

"Fine.  I didn't want to have to do this, but not much of a choice," Red Hood sighed.  He drew a thin red line using his blood and his own knife.

The man sputtered, the sharp bite of the knife stinging.

"I'm going to cut you up into tiny little pieces and throw you down some skanky little river where no one will ever see you ever again," Red Hod murmured softly into his ear, knife still gliding over the man's skin.

Back in the room, Dick leaned forward, brow creased.  "Shit," he mumbled.  What if Jason actually follows through?

Damian stumbled into the room, hanging up the phone.  "Well, Barbara had some useful inform- What the hell is Todd doing?"

Dick sighed, massaging his temples.  "Interrogation."

Damian drew up a chair to watch.  "This should be...informational."

"I-no, please, don't- arrrghhh!"

They both winced as a bit of blood sprayed out over the room.  "One last chance," Red Hood sing-songed softly, his blade traveling along the man's jawline, beads of blood collecting.

"Grayson, you don't think-"  Damian leaned forward towards his eldest brother. 

"I don't know."  The words were tense and hung in the air, an ugly reminder of the darkness that hid in the brightly lit room.

"Alright, I'll talk," the man shrieked as Red Hood's knife began to slice through a tendon in his ankle.

Red Hood paused.  "Alright then.  Talk."

One room over, two brothers heaved a sigh of relief, suddenly clammy with cold sweat.