The Only Escape (Young Justice/Robin)

1. My Turf

Italics = Renegade's Thoughts

Renegade's POV

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"Really! How many times to do I have to deal with this! Like seriously, haven't they learned from last week when I took them down?" Shaking my head, I stared down at the alley below me. I had taken control of an area in Gotham, claiming it as my own. When the Mob Bosses heard, a few disagreements had broken out. Not that I couldn't handle it. I had quickly taken the braver followers down while the others had fled. Watching them realize that they were over powered by someone younger, no less then a thirteen year old, was hilarious!

Though that was almost a month ago. The other Mob Bosses out of the area had decided to come in and try taking it over. At least every week, a new gang showed up on my turf trying to claim it as their own. And every week I took them down. Seriously, this was getting really annoying.

I sighed and continued watching from above. In the alley below me, a group of thugs were gathering. 5, 10, ..., 20, ..., 35. I muttered under my breath as I counted them. "Huh, 35, not to bad. Well, good for me, bad for them." I smirked at this thought and continued to silently watch. Now I know what your thinking, but I am NOT a stalker. There you go.

A single man, thin but with a strong build, stepped in front of the crowd. "He obviously didn't think. He just cornered himself against a wall! Some Mob Boss, if he is one... ameture." My smirk only grew wider as he stood up on a nearby crate. Standing on it, I could tell that though he looked strong, he wasn't tall... Or smart.

He tried to get them to calm down, but obviously failing. If they plan on ambushing someone, they should be quiet. I just frowned and sighed at their ignorance. I flipped over my right wrist and typed in a code. "Yes!" My holo-glove showed my current location but I didn't need that. Typing in a few more codes that I created myself to be virtually impossible to hack, I logged into the Justice League files. Scrolling past the information about the members and their protégées' secret identities, (I had already figured them out myself years ago), I went straight to their Gotham Criminal Files. Putting in another code, (this time not mine but the Justice League's, which I truthfully shouldn't know), I smiled at my success. Searching through all of the League's files on the Mob Bosses of Gotham, I found who I was looking for.

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George Raken
Height: 5"1 (Short!)
Hair Color: Dirty Blonde (Dirty naturally, or have you just not washed it?)
Eye Color: Brown
Blood Type: B-
Fingerprint: Swirl-Copy in Medical Bay (That's normal to have stranger's fingerprints!)
Used to be Factory Worker till mysterious death of owner (search file- Lysa Tilld). After death of owner, became Mob Boss of a small gang. Sold illegal drugs to other gangs and minor thugs (He really is an ameture!). Hideout located on Wayward Avenue, warehouse (Really a warehouse?) #18. Captured and sent to prison 3/02/97. Broke out 3/13/97. Continues working with even smaller gangs and has eluded the police for two more years.

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"Great! Now I'm being reduced to fighting amateurs!" I dramatically sighed. People often call me dramatic, when I'm not trying to hand-cuff them, but what can I say. I like putting on a show.

I shut off my holo-glove and sit down. I pulled my black hood over my head. Crossing my arms in front of my chest and silently swinging  my legs back and forth against the building I was on, I stared focused again on the alley way below. I have to admit. Some of the dumbest and most hilarious things I've ever heard or seen had to come from nights like this.