No One's Son (Bat Family)

✨Chapter Two✨

The next few days were spent dutifully listening to the chatter that filtered through the bugs planted at the various outposts. It gave Jason the opportunity to shut himself in a safehouse away from the prying eyes he still couldn't shake, to sit at his computer rig and listen with some amount of smugness as drug-running lackeys bitched about Red Hood. It wasn't long before news came in about when Black Mask's equipment would be hitting the docks.

If it were up to him, he'd be there alone. Unfortunately it wasn't.

"This is ridiculously unnecessary," Jason said, crouched in the shadows atop one of walls of metal shipping crates. "You know what they say about too many chefs."

"This was our case too, you know." Red Robin groused through Jason's helmet.

"Yeah, and how was that going for you?"

"No fighting." Black Bat's voice was calm to the point of being toneless; frankly it was little eerie.

He hadn't even seen her or felt her presence all night.

"Uh huh. And what's your excuse for being here, princess?"

"She's here for back up. This equipment is based off of leaked designs for instruments commissioned by Wayne Pharmaceuticals. It represents billions of investment into cutting edge advancements in medicinal chemistry -"

"Ah, so that's where you rich boys get your intel. I had wondered."

" - and you can bet that Black Mask is going to have arranged for significant security for its transport." Red Robin finished.

"I could take 'em."

And he was reasonably sure he could. It would involve rigging up a lot of bombs around the docks, probably taking a bullet or two and then sinking that boatload of shiny tech to the bottom of the bay, but if the goal was denying Blackie his new toys...

"Can you be serious for five minutes?" Nightwing snapped. "I want to get this job done, not worry about keeping you from getting yourself shot!"

Jason felt his brow rise. Batgirl hadn't been exaggerating about Golden Boy's bad mood. He debated making a death quip because really, Dick walked right into it, but ultimately decided it wasn't worth taking a wingding (seriously?) to the face.

"Believe me, no one wants this to be over with more than I do," Jason said blandly, craning his neck to spy a caravan of vehicles rolling up to the docks. "And would you look at that. Right on time."

Conversation ceased as they watched the hired muscle pile out of their cars, loading their guns and grouching to one another about the cold. One man blinked a flashlight out into the black and across the bay another light winked in response.

"Everyone get into position."

The boat pulled up to dock, a small unlit freighter with peeling paint. The night vision setting on Jason's helmet picked out men from the jostling shadows on board.

"We've got about twenty armed goons, plus the fifteen by the cars. Submachine guns, mainly." Jason said, watching a group of men stand around something large and bulky. "What are we looking at, boys? ... Mounted turret. Fun."

"Still think you could have taken them?" Red Robin asked.

"Yes."

"Do you see the shipment?" Nightwing said.

"Not from here. They must be keeping it below deck."

A few men from the cars were starting to break away, probably to establish a perimeter. Easy pickings.