Roptes 3

DC/GW fusion

By Timi

Part III

He picked up the box and without thinking whirled around got into a defensive crouch instinctively hiding the box behind him. He saw the man standing in the doorway and knew there was no other way out of the room. He would have to get past this...familiar person, and that would be difficult, especially since this man seemed fit, strong, and agile.

The person made no allowances for his age, Roptes noticed. Even though the man could see he was just a child, he remained in a ready posture.

"Well?" he said, in the same tone of voice.

"I was just getting my things. I'll go now" Roptes replied warily eyeing the man, wondering if he would let Roptes go.

The expression changed slightly as he asked "Roptes?"

Roptes flinched slightly, frowned, but said nothing. The man sighed, a smile coming across his features. Apparently he had found his answer in whatever movements Roptes had made.

"Do you know how worried we were about you?"

Here Roptes clutched at the wild hope that his parents were still alive, who else would be worried about him? But his hopes were soon dashed to the ground when he heard the next sentence.

"I know your parents would not have wanted you to be without protection, without guidance."

Past tense, "would not have" they were definitely dead, he had seen them die, why was it so difficult to accept?

"I can arrange it so that you can do whatever you want, but before you do, I want to show you something."

He didn't say anything more, and Roptes didn?t ask anything either. The man led him to a car, and they both made the trip in silence. They switched cars a couple of times, and they also changed clothes. This served to make Roptes curious, and he tried to remember where he had seen this man. He was sure he knew this person, and obviously this man knew his parents. He spent the whole trip trying to remember, but he finally had to put the search through his memories on hold because they had arrived at their destination.

It looked like a large warehouse. There was constant activity around it, trucks people and cars constantly came in and out of the gates loading, and unloading cargo. After stepping out of the car Roptes stood dumbly watching all the activity until the man put his hand gently on his back and pushed him toward the warehouse. Roptes flinched at the touch, and the man immediately removed his hand, instead taking the lead and expecting Roptes to follow. The man walked quickly, and Roptes didn't have much of a chance to look around as he followed. Finally they came to a door that had a keypad next to it. The man quickly entered a combination and waited for the doors to open.

When the doors opened they revealed a long hallway, and Roptes had the distinct impression of walking into a trap. That was why he hesitated before following. The man noticed this but said nothing. Instead choosing to smile slightly. It was the smile that made the memory click for Roptes. This was Mister M. This was the person his parents had protected when they died. He stopped.

"Mister M?" His voice sounded younger and more unsure than he would have liked, but it still caused the man to stop short and turn slowly.

"Yes?"

"Nothing, just making sure."

Roptes then looked down the hall and continued walking. Mister M did as well, again taking the lead. About midway down the hall he turned and looked at the wall. Confused Roptes looked back and forth between the end of the hallway and Mister M. Mister M smiled and said

"Sometimes it isn?t good to follow things to their conclusion."

With that a panel on the wall slid open and admitted them into an elevator that descended for a long time. Still Mister M said nothing of import and Roptes didn't really answer any of the questions that he asked. The elevator doors opened and they walked onto a catwalk that was nearly fifty feet above the ground. Down here there was not that much activity, but there were still people scurrying around. This time it was mostly around what could only be described as a giant robot. It was not completed, and several parts such as its arms were still laying on the ground on opposite sides of the large room.

The head seemed to be wearing a mask around the lower half of its face. It was somewhat slim, considering that it stood almost 20 feet higher than the catwalk. It was dark red, green and black with yellow highlights, and Roptes was immediately reminded of his Robin costume.

"Will you join us? Will you help us to kill,"

Here Roptes flinched, remembering the vow he had made as Robin,

"Those that oppress the colonies, those that impose their rule on those that cannot defend themselves, on those that killed your parents?"

Gripping the handrail and closing his eyes, Roptes leaned forward until his head was resting against the railing. Mister M said kill, he was not sure he could do that. But he did have an intense desire for revenge, for justice. How could anyone just kill two people then arrange it so that they never existed? Did the people that did this feel bad? How often did it happen? He then realized that he had already made his decision.

"I don't know about the killing, but I will fight with you."

The training that followed was comparable to anything Batman would have given him, and then some. His gymnastics and martial arts training were intensified, and Roptes put more effort into learning all his teacher had to teach. He was trained to use several weapons such as knives swords, and throwing stars, though he preferred the guan do. He was also taught to use many types of guns. How to load them, unload them, take them apart, put them together, and how to shoot them so that he made 8 out of 10 shots when aiming at a moving object. He was also given intense tutoring in all of his school subjects. This was something that he had insisted on, he did not want this to be his only education, the only thing he knew.

Soon he was helping to put together his giant robot. They called it a Gundam, since it was made out of a material named gundanium. Roptes learned the chemistry behind the material, as well as learning the physics and engineering principles behind the Gundam Redbird. He was also redeveloping all the tools he had used as Robin. He noticed some flaws in the design of the batarang, and so improved on the idea. Others helped him to get the smoke bombs, and other throwing objects to be smaller.

If Mister M ever wondered how Roptes knew these things, he never let on. Instead he seemed happy, as if he had caused these developments in Robin.

"Robin," Mister M interrupted Roptes in the middle of his lesson, calling him by the codename Roptes chose for himself

"I have something to show you".

Annoyed Roptes got up and followed Mister M without a word. As much as Mister M reminded him of Batman, at least Batman accepted criticisms, and learned from them. Every time Roptes tried to tell Mister M what he found annoying, he was treated to a lecture about discipline.

Mister M led Robin to one of the interrogation rooms. He then uncovered the one way glass window that looked into the room. The person in the room made Robin?s heart slow down for a brief second, then it went faster as anger boiled through his body.

"Do you recognize him?" Mister M had to ask because the boy didn?t show any reaction.

"Of course"

"Would you like to talk to him"

Here Robin hesitated. He knew he was trained well enough to respond to any threat, he just wondered if the old feelings of helplessness and despair would keep him from acting when or if it was necessary. Finally he said quietly

"Yes."

Mister M opened the door and allowed Robin, unmasked, to enter the room. He walked normally, hiding the fact that he knew the person in front of him was the man that killed his parents. He sat in the chair opposite the man. He casually leaned his elbows on the table and smiled disarmingly. He saw the muscles twitch in the man?s shoulders, and knew he was on his guard. The man greeted him.

Robin responded "Do you know where you are?"

"No."

"Liar," Robin leaned back and put his hands behind his head, apparently totally relaxed

"I am sure you know where you are."

The nonchalant expression on the man?s face cracked a little, revealing his fear for a second. "I assume I am in some rebel encampment?"

"Correct, and do you know why you are still alive?"

"Because I have some information you need?"

"Did anyone else come to question you?"

"No" The interrogator responded, here Robin paused, and looked toward the ceiling. The interrogator was slyly trying to slip some sort of weapon from an ankle sheath. Robin caught this movement, but pretended he was not aware.

"How many people have you killed, personally, I mean. How many have died at your hand?"

The interrogator continued his movements carefully slipping the gun out of the sheath. "I have not killed anyone. I gave the order to kill, but I have never killed anyone."

"Liar" The word was whispered, but with such vehemence it caused the interrogator to pause in his actions.

"I am not lying"

"I was there when you killed two people."

"You couldn't have been."

And as soon as the words were out, Robin smiled dropped his hands into his lap, leaning forward.

"Oh and why not?" he drawled.

The man hesitated then grinned, "Because I gave the order to hunt down and kill that bitch's brat, and they brought back the body."

The interrogator's voice was cocky, and he had stopped pulling the gun from his ankle sheath. Apparently he was hoping to anger Robin into making a mistake, at which point he would pull out the gun and kill him. Robin noticed the cessation of movement, and relaxed a little. He was still on guard, but he would be able to see when he would pull out the gun, and probably would be able to react in time.

"Bitch?"

"Yes, and her pathetic husband. Neither was much of a loss."

Robin seethed but all he said was "So you admit that you lied to me."

"Well yes, I suppose I did"

The interrogator was slightly confused. The boy was not reacting right. Instead of getting angry, he was staying calm. Perhaps he should shoot first then use tactics. Deciding this was the best thing to do he pulled out his gun and was about to shoot when the boy rolled to the left. Before the man could adjust his shot the boy was at his arm twisting the gun from his grip and kicking in his knee making him fall to the ground.

The next thing the man knew was that is was on one knee, supporting himself on his hands. His other leg was bent at the knee, the wrong way. In incredible pain he looked up to see his gun pointed at his head.

"It's loaded isn't it?" The Robin asked nonchalantly "You would keep it loaded, wouldn?t you."

"Yes i's loaded, why don't you shoot?"

"Say it"

"Say what?"

"Admit that you killed my parents."

"They attacked me so I shot them in self defense."

Robin stepped on the interrogator's broken leg, making him scream, he then took off the pressure and asked

"What did you say?"

"They were not cooperating, and I tried every way to get them to help us like good citizens, but then they pulled weapons and?"

Robin pulled back the hammer "One more time."

"Fine, fine! I killed them, I killed them both, is that what you wanted to hear?"

Robin didn't respond. He instead gave a friendly smile and removed the gun from the interrogator's forehead. He then turned to leave the room. He had been told countless times never to turn one's back on an enemy. This of course was in the figurative sense. He should still have been listening, paying attention to everything the man did. At the moment Robin was a little preoccupied by keeping his emotions in check. It had taken a great amount of self-control to remove the gun from the interrogator's head. He wanted nothing more than to end the life of the one that murdered his parents. He also didn't expect a man with a broken leg and a dislocated shoulder to attack. However, that is exactly what happened.

With a knife in his hands the interrogator lunged forward plunging the knife deep into Robin's back. Robin landed heavily on his stomach, keeping the gun in one hand, free of his body. The man left the knife in Robin's back and went to grab the gun. As he did so, Robin was able to roll out from under the heavier man, and he tried to keep his hand on the gun. For some reason his training would not kick in, and the man was able to get the gun and point it at Robin.

Freezing, Robin did not look at the gun. He instead looked at the interrogator. He felt the blood flow down his back from the knife wound in his back. He briefly wondered where he had gotten a knife and a gun, but decided to worry about it later. He kept a check on the glazed, and crazy expression in the interrogator's eyes and slowly reached for the knife in is back. Two seconds, four, and then he saw something click in the man's eyes and expected him to pull the trigger. At the same moment he pulled the knife turned to the right, and threw the knife at the man's gun hand.

The bullet, being shot from only a foot away plunged through his right arm, nearly destroying the bone. Robin rushed forward again trying to get the gun from his hand, but only succeeded in pulling the knife from the man's wrist. For some reason, the man's body was not telling his brain that he shouldn't be able to use his hand anymore. Robin saw that he was going to pull the trigger again, so he moved clutching the knife. He realized that he was losing a lot of blood, the man was in a state of shock mixed with a survival lust, and if Robin didn't end this soon, he would be the one dead on the floor.

At that thought his rage once again became apparent. He was not going to die at the hands of the man that killed his parents. If anything this man was going to die at his hands. His mind was operating clearly, but without any connection to his wishes. His logic centers saw what he had to do, and before he could stop himself he saw the knife flying toward the interrogator's throat.

Shock rooted him to the spot, and the man fired one final shot. This one buried itself into his torso causing his still young body to stagger back and hit the wall. He slid down the wall looking at what he did. After what seemed like an eternity he felt rather than saw some medics come in and take him to the medical area. But even after he left the room he could only see one thing, the interrogator lying on his back, a knife buried to the hilt in his neck, and a growing pool of blood around him. Robin had killed.

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