A Band of Demons
To Devils Tower in Wyoming!
In the shadow of the tower itself, a large deserted military complex hums with action once again. Only, it wasn’t the military running things anymore. The complex had become Grand Central Station for new recruits to the North American branch of the League of Assassins. Hundreds, maybe close to five hundred men and women occupied the base now and spent their days training, planning, and pledging unwavering allegiance to the Master – Ra’s al Ghul.
The Master himself was not there, but his top lieutenants ran the base with an iron fist. Weakness was not tolerated. Disloyalty was punishable by death. This was one of only a few centers where the League of Assassins produced more Fangs That Protect the Head. And it held the distinction of being the largest.
Which meant the good news was that if the Justice League could shut it down, it would put a huge dent in the worldwide power and influence of the Demon’s Head. But the bad news was all in the “if” because it also meant the largest number of highly trained and fanatical assassins were there. They had the weapons, they had the training, they would not surrender. This mission would either be the Justice League’s finest hour, or the triumph of fanatical terrorists, hell bent on world domination
Go get ‘em heroes!
“OK!” Dick clapped his hands once to try to get everyone’s attention. “We know where we’re going, we know what we’re facing. I know you’re all completely competent at this, believe me. But I’m not kidding when I say that the League of Assassins isn’t like any other group you may have fought. They are trained to kill in any way possible, by any means possible. They’ll look for any weakness and exploit it to the fullest. And when there’s that many of them? We all have to look out for each other just as much as ourselves.
“I want to make this clear now, before we’re in the middle of them: If you’re injured to the point of liability for yourself, you get out as fast as you can, any way you can, got it? We’ve got enough tanks--thanks, guys!--to get anyone out.”
He smiled his battlefield grin and stood a little straighter, his body already preparing for the oncoming fight.
“So. Any questions?”
Dick was sexy when he got all leaderly-like. Wally grinned a bit, shifting his weight back and forth. He hopped a bit, then jogged in place. Heaven help a speedster that was on edge. He nodded when Dick was done, then looked at the others.
“If anyone needs a hand out, just shout,” he tapped his earpiece. “I’ll come runnin.” He laughed a little, hopping to add just a touch of levity to what looked to be a very serious situation.
“Me too,” Captain Marvel added. He assumed he counted as a tank, being one of the more invulnerable members of this team, but he was so relieved they had Nightwing’s leadership. It was difficult to not idolize Dick as much as he did Batman, though part of that might have been due to Dick’s defending Billy Batson against Dick’s younger brother Damian’s bullying.
He noted the lightweight cast Nightwing was wearing and worried to himself, how much pain the former Boy Wonder must be in right now, not to mention how it would affect his fighting and speed against these assassins. “I can fly in and get you out, just call,” he eyed Nightwing a little, then shared a smile with Flash.
It was the easiest thing to follow orders from Dick, but Donna had been doing that since they were kids. So she simply nodded at him as he spoke. “Same.” She said when Wally and Captain Marvel both said they could help if someone was injured or for anything. But then they’d probably all be willing to do that. “If you need me anywhere just say so.” Donna said simply and shifted slightly scouting out where would be the best place to attack from.
Grayson still doesn't understand, Damian mused to himself as he listened to his mentor's spiel. But how could anyone who never lived among the League of Assassins truly grasp their single-minded will to dominate, their insatiable penchant for cruelty and destruction? Damian understood it, but he sometimes wished he didn't.
If his thoughts were somewhat mutinous, his behavior was unusually compliant. For all his normal belligerence, he was trained soldier on the battlefield, and he acknowledged Nightwing's directives with a sharp nod. He didn't approve of Grayson leading their ranks, due to both Nightwing's recent injury and Talia's standing threat against Grayson's life. It would be too easy for her assassins to target him in the heat of battle.
Damian waited in silence for the command to move out. If his grandfather or mother decided to invoke the family feud, Robin would be forced to defect to address a more personal vendetta. But he would take orders and work with the team for now, and ensure that Grayson remained unharmed.
Booster looked around at everyone, and then to where they were headed and frowned. Apparently he had showed up just on time to be roped into some big battle...
Not that he was complaining of course. He was up for helping whenever he could.
In fact “If you need help but aren’t around anyone and for some reason can’t get a hold of anyone, look around for Skeets he’ll be flying around, and he’ll get word out to someone.” He looked up at the little golden robot who he was pretty sure would have made some snarky comment back to him. But maybe even he realized how dangerous this was. Well, of course he did, he usually got that sort of stuff better then Michael even did himself.
Dick gave them all a quick smile and suddenly his whole posture changed, sharpening and hardening. It was time for battle. He looked down at the base, planning their attack.
“I want to start this off with a scout. Keep in full contact at all times. Flash: Take out any outside guards, quietly, then you and Booster cover the West. Don’t let them know we’re here. Wonder Girl: Take Batgirl and cover North. Troia: You and Wildcat cover the South. Cap: You’ll take me and Robin around East. Remember, this is a scout only. Aside from Flash and the guards, do not engage anyone until we know what’s clear. We’re going to be split up as it is and we don’t need any team getting overwhelmed.
“Ready?” His grimace pulled into a grin. “Let’s do it.”
“You got it,” Wally said with a big thumbs up. He ran up beside Dick, giving his hand a squeeze. “Don’t get hurt,” he said quietly. “Roy’ll kill me.” Quick as a blink, he kissed Dick’s cheek and took off, keeping his speed as constant as possible. This was probably the worst place to try and attack from, but eh, he’d live.
He made a half circle of the compound, getting a feel for where the guards were stationed and trying to infer how they were all spaced out. This was going to be a cake walk, so long as no one saw him. He started on the south, racing past them one way to grab their guns, and back again to smack them together and knock them out.
“South side clear,” he radioed back, stashing the unconscious bodies (zip tied together with their own ‘cuffs’) in some scrub brush.
Taking a moment to get his bearings, he ran to the East side, where he could see an entrance. Good, this was progress. Another quick run by, and he took out the guards. stripping their weapons, he hauled them off like the others, then ran to the North side.
“East is clear. Heading north now.”
The north side had four guards, obviously the main entrance. There were trucks parked a few yards out, which could be annoyingly problematic. Licking his lips, he poured on some more speed, grabbing them and hauling them out as fast as he could. He heard something from a guard tower. Damn damn damndamndamn. He ran toward the West side, finding a place to hide before reporting in again.
“North side is clear,” he said. “But the guards are on alert. Sorry, no way to NOT be seen. Front gate’s there, be careful.” Another tap on his earpiece and he changed frequencies. “Booster, I’m waiting for you on the west side. I need a second.”
Captain Marvel wasted no time in walking over to Robin and picking him up under one arm. “Let’s go, Boy Wonder!” he said cheerfully, tucking Damian under one arm. Deep down, he knew it was a little petty of him to embarrass the boy by carrying him like that, like a sack of potatoes, his butt and legs dangling in an undignified fashion...but then again Damian had broken Billy’s nose. Solomon’s wisdom didn’t seem to have much of an issue with it.
Flashing Nightwing a winning smile, he stooped slightly to wrap his free arm supportively around Dick’s back while Dick hooked an arm around Cap’s neck. Before Damian could struggle in vain any more, they were off and flying, making a very wide loop around the complex so as not to be immediately spotted.
Flash had done a great job of clearing out the area of outside guards, and Marvel wanted to tell him so, but now wasn’t a good time as other teams were checking in, maintaining the constant contact Nightwing had ordered. He was about to swoop in low and land a distance from the compound, but he hesitated. They were still a ways away, but there wasn’t a lot of cover. There was a door on this side, though, and Flash had taken out all of the guards. “Nightwing? Do you want me to bring you both right up to right beside that door? We could press up against the wall, and you wouldn’t have to worry about crossing that open area on your leg.”
Nightwing and Captain Marvel must not have heard Robin's complaint because neither of them acknowledged it. The arm encircling his torso is was sure as a steel vice, and Damian could gain no leverage no matter how hard he swung his legs or strained to free his arms. Grayson carried him this way once not long after they met, restrained under one arm like an errant toddler, and he was indifferent then to Damian's embarrassment. The indignity of it was intensified now that the boy was a little older and a proper Robin in his own right.
His struggle was brief, however. The mission was still at hand. He wasn’t overly fond of Captain Marvel at the moment, but he stilled and waited for Nightwing's orders.
No matter how serious the mission or how dangerous the battle, Dick always got a thrill from flying and being carried. There was just something so safe in that kind of hold. He looked over at the struggling Damian and tried not to laugh too loud. Oh, the poor little guy.... Pretty soon, he’d be too big to carry around like that, so Dick always took the time to appreciate it when he could.
He scanned the area. The guard tower was on the other side, so they were safe from that, but they didn’t need to take any unnecessary chances. “If you can get us there safe, that’d be helpful. I’ll need all my strength once we really get in there.”
“You got it, Nightwing,” Captain Marvel assured him, bringing them in low and quickly, before they could be spotted. When they reached the section of wall on the south side of the door, he was especially careful to set Dick down gently, making sure his feet were completely under him before he let go. Finally he picked Damian up in two hands from under his arm and set him down as well, next to his brother.
“What now?” he whispered, “Did you want me to go in first?” After all, he was bullet-proof.
“Not yet, Captain. I want to get a little more fighting power first.” Dick leaned against the wall, checking the comm for who was reporting in. “Wonder Girl. Batgirl. How’s the North? The guard tower sounds active. Do you need help?”
He thought for a moment as he waited for their reply, then called over to Donna. “Troia? How’s the South side? If that’s clear, try and get to the North. WG and Batgirl are gonna need all the help they can get for now.”
A sonic boom drew the attention of the combatants on the ground followed by a second boom, then a third. A streak of green was spotted in the eastern skies over Devil's Tower heading right for the battle. The green streak touched down in the center of the assassin training complex with a thunderous noise. Dust, wood splinters, and would-be fangs filled the air.
Before the dust settled, the screams of men and women were heard from inside. Flashes of red light could be seen through the dust storm. That's when a number of the enemy start running out of the dust, directly towards the heroes' positions surrounding the camp. But they are not charging to fight, they are running from something on the inside.
<Nightwing. I am here.> J'onn sent the telepathic message out as a matter of information rather than a call for help. <Their north flank is exposed.> He was engaging the enemy on their turf now, and he was pouring it on. The Martian Manhunter had arrived to join the fight - and was in no mood to pull his punches.
No sooner had Marvel set him upon the ground before the earth rumbled beneath Damian's feet, the sky ablaze with forks of red fire. He watched with wide eyes as the training facility was struck, a cacophony of screams and resounding booms blasting through the air.
Assassins spilled from the construct like a black wave, their feet carrying them swiftly across the sands. It took only a moment for Damian to realize they were fleeing the attack, not charging to initiate one of their own, but they were advancing upon his position either way.
The clean steel of his blade flashed in the sun as he unsheathed his sword and held it before him. He stepped in front of Nightwing, back to him and feet parted wide in a defensive stance.
Let them come.
Dick opened his comm. “All members: Alert! North flank exposed. Head north if you can. Get inside. Nightwing, out.”
He pulled out his eskrima sticks, stepping just aside from Damian. It was sweet of Damian, defending him from the attack (although, of course, Damian would just claim it’s “good strategy” since Dick was the injured party, but shut up, it’s sweet!), but he could handle it from here. Few of the assassins paid them any attention as they fled; those who did merely glanced at the heroes, quickly judging their threat-level and deciding that fleeing was the better option. The tide from the door seemed to slow, so Dick signalled to Captain Marvel to move in.
“We won’t have a better opening. Come on!” He tapped Damian’s shoulder, just waiting for Cap to lead them in.
Cassie could explain her emotions as... probably angry. She had gotten a good rest at Warriors and now she was ready for a fight. And well, she was still a little angry about everything these Fang people or whatever had done to get everyones attention, or whatever. Sometimes these bad guys could just be a little starved for attention or something if you asked her.
But hey, she was all for giving it to them if that was in the form of a punch to the face or something. She had followed Nightwings lead easily, almost like second nature. Perhaps it was because it was a Titans thing, or a Bat thing. Sure, she was more used to dealing with Tim, but Dick was a pleasant change from time to time. Nothing against Tim’s leading style of course... Anyway she had taken Batgirl, who it turned out she worked very well with, and headed towards the North entrance.
It was a little harder to get there then she had hoped and there were assassins sent to cut her off. It took a while, but the fighting was kind of cathartic. Before she even made it to the North entrance she heard Nightwing over the comm telling everyone to head there and felt bad for being so behind. Shit. Shit. Shit. She grabbed her lasso that was wrapped around a couple men and shot into the air heading towards where she was supposed to be.
One of the first to make it there she was able to take out some of the few numbers that were running towards whatever it was they were running towards and pressed her comm. “I’m here now! We’re pretty clear.” Almost at least.
Using his Martian Vision, J’onn attacked the structure of the building itself. Steel beams melted and wood material caught fire. J’onn maintained a safe distance, and could still see many League of Assassins’ recruits running for safety. But not all ran. A group of seven stood strong and gathered their forces. These were clearly the leaders, the more experienced assassins. They were refusing to cede their ground and were preparing for an attack.
The Martian tried to send out a telepathic warning. <Look out! I see - > but it was too late. The group of seven raised weapons and charged...
“Yes, SIR!” Captain Marvel replied with complete enthusiasm, charging, or rather flying, ahead of Nightwing and Robin, his fists raised for attack. He made himself as large a target as possible, and noisily, so that the weapons would aim on him and not the less-than-bulletproof pair behind him. “Oh, no you don’t!” he chastised the the closest two of the group who had raised their weapons at him, reaching forward to knock their heads together with Mercury’s super speed and Hercules’ strength. They slumped into a useless pile of unconscious assassin where they stood, and Marvel brought his mighty fists to bear on a third, sending her flying into a stack of supply boxes.
Dick followed close in Captain Marvel’s wake. The less of him the assassins saw, the better the odds. He threw a Batarang wide to the left as he snaked right. The attention was on Marvel, so the assassin never noticed the Batarang until it struck the base of his skull, knocking him unconscious. The assassin next to him whipped around, ready to fight whoever had attacked her comrade, but found no one. The instant she turned around, Dick leapt and planted a kick right to the center of her back. He followed her down and struck her with an escrima stick, effectively knocking her out.
A blow to the back of the head sent Dick tumbling over, reeling. He rolled back, putting all his effort into defense. The assassin was coming on hard and fast; it was all Dick could do to avoid the blows. So, yes, maybe a Batarang wasn’t as effective as he’d thought it’d be. He tangled the assassin’s nunchaku around his stick, and drove his knee hard into his midsection. Winded, the assassin doubled over just as Dick drove his hand into the assassin’s nose. With a groan, the assassin collapsed, definitely unconscious this time.
As Marvel and Nightwing engaged their respective combatants, Robin stood his ground and allowed the remaining assassins to fall upon him rather than charging to meet the assault. There was something nostalgic in the familiarity of their motions, the fluid cut of their blades toward his throat and the evasive twist when Damian met their offense with ease. This was a dance he learned hand-in-hand with walking or talking or recognizing his own name. The choreography was brutal, but he knew every step.
Their faces were covered aside from their eyes, but their figures in fitted jumpsuits made them easy to identify as females. Damian could identify one beyond that, he realized: Adara, one of the assassins who trained with him as a boy. Her amber eyes still reminded him of a tiger, but if they recognized him as well, they betrayed no hint of personal connection. A sweep of her sword sought to sever his shin from his knee, and he sprang over it, the leg still whole and whipping her across the stomach.
He didn’t land before her associate landed a strike on his midsection that would gut him if Damian wasn’t quick to roll away from the attack, his own blade flashing high to keep the other two at bay when he fell to the ground. They were pushing down, the strength of two adults seeking to overcome his own and cleave him in two, and Damian knew the distinctive look before a kill when he saw it.
Robin spoke her name because it was his best weapon in the moment. “Adara,” he gritted as the blade pushed closer, and those tiger-gold eyes flickered with surprise for less than a full second. It was long enough to kick her feet from under her, to roll to the side as her sword veered astray and the other assassin sliced the ground where he’d lain. He smashed the hilt of his own weapon into the nameless assassin’s temple as she hurried to recover from her missed strike, and blood trickled down her face as she fell to the sand she disturbed.
Adara intensified her assault, the animal in her eyes furious with him and herself, Damian knew, because human weakness and emotion were not tolerated by Grandfather’s standards. They clashed with what seemed to be synchronized harmony, steel flashing and clinking in an almost musical cadence. She feigned for Damian’s neck, but he remembered this move from the hours he spent training with her and blocked his torso instead. Surprise widened her gaze once more, and Damian jabbed the length of his blade between her ribs with careful precision-- an attack that wouldn’t kill her so long as she received medical attention, but effectively incapacitated her and left her on the ground with her companion.
His own loss of blood from the wound at his waist made him feel unsteady in the arid heat. Damian mused that it was something of a pity as he bound the women with the restraints in his belt. Grandfather would surely kill the failed assassins if he regained access to them. Adara’s eyes were kept forward, and Damian knew the distinctive look of resignation to a ghastly fate when he saw it.
Dick stood up fully, rubbing his face as he looked around. All the major assassins were taken care of and the others had long fled. With a heavy sigh that turned into a giggle, he looked to Captain Marvel and Damian. “Well, gang! Looks like we--WHOA!”
He’d tried taking a step, only to realize too late that his leg was just not going to support him without fighting energy. He smiled up gratefully at Cap as he caught him, breathing out a thanks. He looked back at Damian and reached out to him. “You’re bleeding. Robin, what happened?”
Without waiting to hear the explanation, Captain Marvel gathered Robin up as well, positioning the brothers so Dick could carry Damian while he carried Dick. “Let’s get you both out of here...Flash, can you come in and finish binding these assassins?” he called over his communicator, “The loose ones are knocked out, for now, at least.”
As he flew out with Nightwing and Robin, he continued to chatter away, the excitement of the fight still in his system. “Holy moley, you two are something else! Robin you took them down like a BOSS, and Nightwing, can you show me how to do that kick you did? That was amazing!” He was still gushing as they returned to the rest of the team, with Flash arriving several seconds before they did, having already secured all their remaining prisoners.
Dick set down Damian and leaned on Captain Marvel for support as he looked around at the team. Wally was suddenly next to him, squeezing his shoulder, and Dick smiled, patting his hand. “Well, team? I’d say we did a good job. I’m proud of you all! Let’s hit Warriors and meet up with whoever’s back!” The fliers collected their charges and zoomed off, chattering on the comm’s low-frequency the whole way back.
The setting sun cast strange shadows through the rocks, forming stretched and grotesque shapes between the trees. One tall shadow remained constant, pushing its way toward the destroyed base. The building had stopped smouldering, but the guard tower and garage were all but rubble. If discovered, destroy all. The only order that seemed to be followed. There was no hero blood spilled here. Displeased, Ra’s al Ghul stepped out from the trees. There would be more blood spilled tonight. Tomorrow, nothing of the training center would remain but dust.
There were no screams that night, no sound but the wind. Devils Tower was peaceful once again.
