Chapter Text
John Smith hated his name with a passion. Anyone and everyone took this name to be him being uncreative when creating his fake persona for underground work – especially his new and current employers, the Red Hood gang. A few raised eyebrows and mocking smirks later, he was accepted into the ranks and placed in Gamma team led by Trevor – a lieutenant working directly with the Boss – and orders were to patrol between Wall Street and Canal Street and then to circle back to base. An easy run, no shipment intercept or deal planned for their team this evening, at least.
Mr. Smith, as he had been affectionately – if one could say that in a band of thugs – named, prepared to roll out with the rest of the guys. Because of him being the new boy at school, he didn’t get anywhere near as nice a kit as some of the more seasoned veterans and higher-ups such as Trevor. That aside, he wasn’t complaining (not that he dared!). He had made sure to read up and memorise the patrol route beforehand, his training in the Marines taught him that – prepare as best you could, know the lay of the land and that’s one less thing to worry about when you may be getting shot at or are running for your life.
They rolled out from base at 23:00 sharp – the Boss did not tolerate sloppy timekeeping on any level of operations, no matter the job. With Trevor’s second at the wheel and the lieutenant himself taking shotgun, Gamma team headed along the dimly lit streets of Gotham’s Chinatown, one of the most notorious hubs for trafficking, illegal goods imports, and drug trade. The usual shady characters were around, keeping mostly to the shadows, especially when the gang’s Mercedes drove by. The quiet in the vehicle was tense, as if everyone was poised on the brink of pouncing to the point that they were all startled a bit at the sound of the radio crackling to life.
“Alpha team, status report.” The synthesized voice identified the speaker right away – Red Hood was checking up on progress.
The response was loud and clear,“All clear, Boss. Deal is complete. Cargo secure.”
“Affirmative. Beta team, update.” The mechanized voice carried no emotion, whether the Boss was pleased or not was unclear.
Beta team was quick to respond, “All clear, Boss. Drop was successful, over.”
John tensed slightly, holding his breath, it was Gamma’s turn next if he remembered his Greek alphabet correctly, “Affirmative. Gamma team, status report.”
Before John could worry about what he should say or do to respond to the Boss, Trevor picked up the mic and pressed the button to open his channel and spoke clearly, “Gamma team has nothing to report, Boss. All clear.”
In a final check-in, Hood called on the Delta team.
The channel crackled to life once more, “All clear, Boss -.”
The line cut out. “Delta, come in.” No response. Hood repeated his order, for he made no requests, “Delta, come in.”
Finally, a result. “Code Orange, I repeat, Code Orange. Boss, Code Orange at Gotham Bay Plaza. Orders, Sir. Do we engage?” A pause. “Sir, orders?!”
The response was instantaneous, the robotic voice calm, even, clear as ever. “Follow at a distance. Keep eyes on target. Do not engage. Repeat, do not engage. Await my arrival, ETA ten minutes. Alpha, Beta, and Gamma teams, maintain positions and await further orders. Radio silence as much as possible. Hood out.”
John knew there were codes, he knew they were labelled with colours but the only ones he’d been informed to worry about were Code Blue and Code Black for the time being, what with them being the most pressing and frequent calls. Any code call was serious, but Code Orange was unfamiliar to him and he looked at his seat mate beside him who responded with a minute shrug accompanied with a slight head shake.
The quiet up front had changed. Trevor and his second seemed to have a resolve about them, seemed to straighten their shoulders and backs as if they were preparing for a face-off.
The silence was broken by Trevor, who threw a glance back at the rest of the team via the rearview mirror. He took a breath and said, “Code Orange is the code signalling the presence of the world’s most ruthless mercenary. Deathstroke is in town.”