6604/Pier Pressure

Pier Pressure
Date of Scene:	18 June 2021
Location:	Dixon Docks - Chinatown
Synopsis:	Batgirl and Nightwing respond to a call for backup by Red Robin at the docks, where they take down a smuggling operation. A surprise appearance by an unknown combatant provides additional assistance and ends with Red Robin escorting the injured Haunt away for first aid.
Cast of Characters:	Tim Drake, Dick Grayson, Stephanie Brown, Nicolai Codona

---

Tim Drake has posed:
    If there's a boat looking to import something into Gotham under the radar, it'll probably be found docked here. Given the surrounding area and the kind of trades peddled on its streets, often that means drug smuggling or human trafficking, but tonight it's neither. A source that Tim doesn't divulge but assures is trustworthy based on a long-standing relationship suggests that a large supply of stolen computer chips from Taiwan and taken on an unconventional route across Asia and into Africa is making it to America's shores by way of Gotham for what is assuredly nefarious purposes.

    No above-board manufacturer would go through this amount of effort, after all. This amount being a host of armed guards from a mercenary company with a, shall we say, less than stellar reputation. They patrol one disused corner of Dixon Docks while a half-dozen harried workers unload one very specific container aboard the cargo ship Far Horizons, registered out of the Marshall Islands.

    Technically, the Far Horizons isn't due in until tomorrow at 0800. Funny how it's here tonight.

    Red Robin has taken up a position dock-side, taking note of the patrol patterns the guards have fallen into. It's early yet; not long into the night, and the truck they're offloading into has just pulled up. He runs the license plate out of habit but suspects it's going to be a dead end, and a few moments of attention spared for the hard-light screen displayed above his gauntlet proves it. Shell company leading to another shell company leading to.... Forensic accounting work best left for later.

    He's already sent out a ping for backup from anyone in the area. His current headcount says 12 hostiles armed with semi-automatic weapons, though he can't account yet for the ship's crew or if the workers themselves will put up a fight, though his instincts (and their generally unhappy expressions) say otherwise.

Dick Grayson has posed:
Not surprisingly, Nightwing is on the rooftops of Gotham when Red Robin's call comes in. Pulling up a map on his mask's HUD, he pinpoints the younger man's location and heads that way, a combination of gliding (He's in his newer armor with extendable wings) and swinging on decel lines when he gets too low for the wings until he can make his way higher as he travels.

Shortly after the call has gone out, he's closing on the docks, checking the HUD for best avenues of infiltration. He switches between vision modes, scanning over the whole area to get an idea of the surroundings.

<<Red Robin, this is Nightwing. Closing in your position, what have you got?>>

Stephanie Brown has posed:
<< Is this a boy's only party? Or can anyone get in on the action? And what is it about the docks and smugglers? It's so 1800s. You'd think they'd make more use of the airport by now. >>

Stephanie Brown's voice over the comms announces Batgirl's arrival on the scene. She runs across the rooftop that she's on, her cape flapping open and parts of it solidifying into a glider shape that helps her coast across to another warehouse roof closer to the water itself.

<< So are we just tracking tonight? Or you looking to take them down, Red Robin? >> Batgirl asks as she creeps to the edge of her roof, cape draped about herself to help break up her shape even low as she is to the ground. She pulls out small binoculars from her utility bet and begins surveying the area.

Tim Drake has posed:
    From his position crouched behind a few forgotten crates at ground level, Tim continues his observations, eyes narrowed behind his domino mask. <<Evening. We're looking at some high-value cargo being smuggled into the country. A dozen hostiles armed to the teeth; PTR-91s, grenades, and enough assorted small arms to fill up an entire gun show. Six unconfirmed hostages and no sign of the ship's crew.>> He relates the background details on the Far Horizons and its journey to Gotham's shores. <<The Marshall Islands is a common flag of convenience so that's probably a dead end too>> he adds.

    The "But I'll still follow up on it." is unspoken. This is Tim, after all.

    He smiles to himself, tight and focused. <<Lucky for you, it's co-ed night. Happy to have you on this one, Batgirl, given the firepower on show here. There's something suspicious about this whole thing -- this much effort for what are, as far as I can tell, commercially-available chips -- I don't know. But it looks like the workers might not be here of their own free will.>>

    And they don't. The longer they're forced to unload, the more nervous they all get to varying degrees, and consequently the harsher their treatment by the armed guard who is overseeing their work. No one's happy to have the muzzle of a semi-automatic rifle pointed in their face.

    One of them is begging for his life, talking about his wife and kids at home. Red Robin frowns and, with a touch to his screen, flags the bio signatures for each of the six workers as confirmed hostages.

Dick Grayson has posed:
Nightwing picks up the tags from Red Robin's network, updating his HUD with the positions of the hostages and guards.

<<Ok, there's three of us now, I'm thinking if we start with gas, we should be able to incap most of them. Follow up with some sonics and then we move in to finish them hand to hand.>>

He fires a grapple up to one of the cranes to take the high ground overlooking the ship, each person on deck or unloading highlighted in his sight my the mask's HUD.

<<I'm in position if we want to do it.>>

Stephanie Brown has posed:
<< Well it wouldn't be the first time that something extra was included in a shipment. I just hope it doesn't lead to werewolves. THIS time. >> The after action report told the tale of Nightwing and Batgirl having stopped The Hand from getting ahold of some werewolf-related arcane book, a few months back.

Batgirl's binoculars scan the area and then she stows them away. << I"ll move down to the water's edge and over towards the ship. >> She moves over to a corner of the building and drops down with an assist from her cape, landing lightly before beginning to make her way towards the water's edge, further down the dock where she won't be noticed easily.

Upon reaching it, she pulls something out of her utility belt, attaching the small devices to her feet. She drops over the edge of the dock, hanging from it, and the devices inflate. Allowing her to 'stand' on the water as she pulls herself along the dock, out of view from those standing upon it as she makes her way towards the boat. When she gets into position, she sends through her comms, << Alright. Ready to go. >>

Tim Drake has posed:
    There's a plan coming together in Red Robin's head, syncing up with the observations he's made thus far, but he pauses. Nightwing's suggestion overlays his own, the positions of the three of them triangulating, sight lines to each of the identified hostiles laid down. <<I think that guy just has a really bushy beard. Hopefully. I left my silver-coated staff at home.>>

    And then he nods, though given his cover it's mostly just to himself. A few taps at the screen sends out the patrol patterns he's witnessed, as well as the identifying code for the container onboard the ship and its location. <<Sounds good, Nightwing. Hold tight; gas out on my mark.>>

    The worker pleading for mercy gets whipped in the face with the guard-in-charge's rifle, and though Red Robin spares a sympathetic grimace for the man, he holds steady. But the commotion is enough to attract the rest of the mercenaries who begin to slow and turn. <<Now!>>

    Red Robin is little more than streak of red and black across the dock as he throws himself into a neat tuck and roll, out from behind one set of crates and then behind another set on the opposite side, the gas canister flying in a neat arc out of his hands towards the feet of the nearest set of guards.

    It bounces once and then explodes. By the time Tim is upright again he has a mask over his nose and mouth and his mask switched over to thermal vision to pierce the cloud of gas rapidly filling the air.

Nicolai Codona has posed:
    Having made the trip to Chinatown in Gotham to pick up a particular type of rosin for his violin bow, Nicolai decided to talk a walk around the place. It's not his normal haunt - pun intended, but it sometimes pays to know the areas around your 'home turf'.
    His mostly absent minded walk-about-path leads him to the docks. He seems completely unconcerned and unaware of his surroundings and any danger he might be walking toward.
    He looks like a stupid damned tourist, truth be told.
    It's likely nothing more than simple fate or happenstance that brings him right into the middle of the Bats and their current mess. He's not twenty feet from the boat in question when he stops to ... tie his shoelace.
    ...anyone with a trained eye that spots him may not be fooled by his apparent clueless-ness, however. He's watching that boat, perhaps even weighing his options, the obvious muscle and the odd behavior of the 'workers' having caught his attention almost immediately upon him entering the area.
    No backup, this is going to suck. Or so he believes, as he has yet to notice any of the Bat sorts about, they're too good to be noticed, right? Even by someone as well trained as Nix.

Dick Grayson has posed:
Nightwing fits a rebreather over his nose and mouth, then leaps from the crane, wings snapping out of the armored pack on his back. He glides silently though the darkness, angling to quickly drop altitude.

As he crosses over the edge of the ship, he extends his arm and with a *PHUT* of compressed gas, a pellet shoots out of his wrist launcher and into a knot of guards, exploding into another cloud of gas.

He pulls up to almost a stall, then retracts the wings and drops to the deck of the ship. With a quick eye movement, he switches the launcher and fires a tranq dart into the nearest guard, then reaches up and pulls his batons off his back, flicking the switches to electrify them.

Stephanie Brown has posed:
Batgirl fits a rebreather onto the bottom of her cowl, the device sealing in place and the screens over her eyeholes dropping into place to make an air-tight seal. She readies some pellets in one hand, and then waits until Red Robin and Nightwing are the on move.

The pellets are tossed in an arc, hitting the ground and bellowing out smoke to add to the confusion of the moment. The Bat-floaties are kicked free and she pulls herself up onto the dock, staying crouched as the smoke spreads among the gunmen.

As the guards start to react to the gas and smoke, one that just hit a man with his rifle starts to wield the thing like he might fire, and he's pointing towards the hostage. Batgirl's lets fly a batarang trailing a line. It circles about the gun and she pulls on it to pull the muzzle away from the hostage.

Tim Drake has posed:
    Given his position and the hiss of gas rapidly filling the air between him and the other side of the docks, Red Robin doesn't clock the approaching figure. He's got other things to worry about at the moment, most importantly the semi-automatic fire that tears the crates he was behind a moment ago to wood-splintered projectiles that he has to swing his cape around and over himself to avoid.

    The trigger-happy goon in question is quickly devolving into hacking coughs though as his lungs are filled with cloying gas, and then Red Robin is on the move. A shuriken flies from his fingers towards a guard further away from the gas cloud's epicenter, and then his arm is moving, staff not even fully extended until it's inches away from making contact with another guard's temple, the crackle of electricity sharp in the air.

    <<Status on the hostage being threatened?>> he asks as he continues to move, avoiding a sloppy kick from another guard that's already half-disabled from the gas.

    Another spray of gunfire from a higher vantage point--aboard the ship, further aft than where the target container is-- forces Red Robin to dart through the gas cloud and emerge from the other side. He basically clotheslines two of the other hostages to get them down and into cover, ducking down with them for a moment before he's on the move again. <<More hostiles on the boat, could be the crew!>>

Nicolai Codona has posed:
    When the deck of the boat suddenly explodes into smoke and chaos, it doesn't take Nicolai much time to realize that he's late to the party.
    He doesn't have fancy batwings and bracelets and boots. What he does have is training and, well, his own unique party favors to bring.
    He shoves himself up from his crouched position and runs toward the ship. Somewhere along the way, he uses a small metal claw hooked to the end of his right thumb to cut a gash across his palm. Green... goo, it's kind of goo, seeps from the wound to spread out to form a small, pale green, glowing cloud. The cloud spreads outward until it coalesces into a very solid looking whip that still glows that green. By the time he's reached the dock closer to the ship, the whip has straightened to form a staff. He uses the staff as a pole to vault up and over the side of that ship. He lands on the deck in a crouch, but straightens quickly and fuck but he's kind of scary looking now.
    He's gone from relatively attractive white dude with eerie, but oddly pretty, glowing aqua eyes to, well... Really, deathly pale white guy with white gray hair and glowing red eyes. Normal to B-Grade groovy ghoulie in 2.2.
    With nothing but a thought, staff turns to whip and whip lashes out serpent like to strike a gunman's hand with wicked accuracy. A quick spin moves him out of the way of any attack and he strikes out again with that whip. That thing... it behaves as if it's alive, an extension of the man himself rather than just a weapon. It coils and uncoils without him moving a muscle. When he does snap it out again, it's to wrap around the arm of another foe to drag him in quick and fast for a sharp headbutt.
    He's fast, he's obviously skilled, he has some freaky shit happening. Who IS this dude? He's clearly not local or the Batgang would know the answer.

Dick Grayson has posed:
Nightwing rolls forward, jabbing an electrified baton into each of two guard's stomachs, the electricity arcing to drop them to the deck, gasping for breath from the solar plexus strikes and flopping helplessly from the tasing at the same time. Scanning over the deck of the ship to spot the others, he tags the addtional combatants so they show up for the other Bats as well.

Coming to his feet, he fires another tranq dart into a third gunman, dropping him to the deck, then moves quickly towards the next biggest clump of guards. He basically parkours over the deck, using crates, railings, even walls to keep his movement erratic and hard to target. It mostly works, though he does get hit by one shot, which fortunately is not a heavy enough caliber to get through the armor.

Clicking the bases of his batons together into a staff, he launches off a wall and into the enemies, leading with the electrified staff held horizontally to strike as many of them at once as possible.

Stephanie Brown has posed:
The line from the batarang wrapped around the rifle's barrel does a great job of pulling the gun away from the hostage. However, doing so points the weapon towards Batgirl. And even hidden partially by the smoke, and the gas making the gunman cough, he can tell which way the line is pointing.

He opens fire, bullets pinging off the metal hull of the ship behind her as Batgirl rolls to the side, dropping the line. Though the weapon is free, it's only for a moment, as another batarang comes hurling through the smoke. It hits the man and there's an electric zap as it unloads electricity into him like a taser.

<< Hostage is freed. Getting him to safety >>

Tim Drake has posed:
    The additional hostiles aboard the boat are an unknown quantity until Nightwing's tagging comes through, and Tim isn't the type to swear when he's got the uniform on, but he does allow himself a sigh that could easily be explained away by the amount of physical activity he's just gotten up to.

    <<I have two hostages behind the forklift to the left of the truck.>> Their updated positions are sent out, and the Red Robin is leveraging himself up onto said forklift for a change of perspective.

    The new vantage point gives him enough height above the gas to see a flash of eerie light and movement further down the docks, and he pauses. <<Potential supernatural contact,>> he says. <<Tagging the new arrival. Batgirl, if this guy is a werewolf it's all your fault.>> Someone with a gun notices Red Robin's emergence from the gas and he has to drop back down to avoid getting shot, the flutter of his cape the only sign of him as he once again vanishes into the cloud.

    <<Good work! Focus on the hostiles, we're risking a hostage getting hit with all this gunfire.>> There's a sharp cry (too deep to be Tim) and the crumple of a body hitting the ground, and then Red Robin adds, <<Don't remember any matches in our local metahuman files. Either of you have eyes on the newcomer?>>

    Red Robin appears again, this time with a half-unconscious worker slung over one shoulder, still coughing as he's deposited with his fellows.

Nicolai Codona has posed:
    Even the well trained take a hit now and again. For Nicolai it comes in the form of a fist to the face when he's distracted by a bullet whizzing past his inner thigh; maybe a little too close to the family jewels. His head is rocked back by that blow, his nose explodes in a spray of... wait, that's *not* blood. It's green and it... glows.
    He shakes it off quickly enough and gets back into the dance. Dance, that's what it looks like, the way he spins, ducks, dodges, leaps, flips, kicks and lashes out with that whip to draw blood from anyone enemy within range. Seems that whip is equipped with a razor edged tip and the injuries it leaves behind quickly brings to mind 'death by a thousand cuts'.
    The air around him is positively frigid causing the breath of the guards on the deck to be visible upon the exhale. Items on the deck begin to rattle and shake and lift off the ground to fly about, whipping around the heads of enemies - and unfortunately maybe allies as well - he's still working on that one. The whole effect is rather poltergeist-esque in nature.
    But still, he's brought a whip to a gunfight. A bullet grazes his side, just a flesh wound but it stings! The rattling and shaking and flying of anything not nailed down intensifies. He's literally 'out gunned' as he has no such thing and out manned. He's keeping them on the defensive and distracted, but for how long? Here's to hoping maybe they'll respond as many humans do to Nicolai's 'talents'. That is to say 'Eeep it's a GHOST' and run the fuck away from that creepy son of a bitch.

Dick Grayson has posed:
With a loud crackle of electricity, enough amps to drop an ox course through the three guards Nightwing has basically tackled. With them down for the moment, he hops to his feet and runs to the bow of the ship, towards the unknown figure Red Robin has called to their attention. Once he gets around the ship's cabin and can see, he watches the show for just a second.

<<Well, he's fighting the guards, so that's a good sign. He looks like he's taking a few hits through.>>

He tags Nicolai on his HUD so the others have his position as a neutral for now and moves in. Not wanting to incapacitate Nicolai, he skips the gas and uses another tranq dart to drop one, then separates his batons and moves in to the attack. The first guard he engages blocks with his gun, so takes another couple seconds to take out with an extra attack sequence before he turns to the next, distracting at least a couple from the attack on Nix.

Stephanie Brown has posed:
<< Better not be a werewolf. Traded that blessed silver dagger to a wizard to get Misfit transferred out of the demon body and back into her own. >> Batgirl is moving back out into the cloud of gas and smoke even as her words are picked up by the subvocal comms microphone at her throat. The sound of people coughing guides her to a final gunman and one of the hostages.

He sees her coming and tries to reach for the hostage, a thin Latino who he intends to use as a human shield. Batgirl charges forward, throwing kicking his hand away from the hostage and then pivoting and slamming a hand down on his gunhand, disarming him.

The man outweighs her by a hundred pounds easily, all of it muscle. He charges at her, tackling her and knocking her to the ground. The next few moments are spent fighting for her life as the man tries to get his arms around her neck to break it. A punch to his solar plexus allows Batgirl to stretch her head away from the man, and she applies an arm bar to him, then gets her legs wrapped around his neck.

He pounds on her repeatedly with his free hand, landing four blows before he starts grabbing at her legs, growing frantic as the pressure cuts his air supply off. His struggles grow weaker as the lack of air for the already-gassed man causes him finally to collapse. Batgirl lets him go and rises to move to guide the hostage to safety. "Let's get you behind some cover."

Tim Drake has posed:
    The thermal vision in Red Robin's mask makes out three figures still upright in the gas cloud as he dives back in. <<Do you ever stop to wonder about the strange stuff we talk about because of this job?>>

    Not that making deals with supernatural beings is exactly unusual in this line of work, but. You know.

    Inside the smog, Red Robin has to make a judgment call. Based on last known position, one of these guys is a hostage, but all three of them are in various stages of bent over, chests heaving. He guesses wrong the first time, landing a hand on a shoulder that immediately rolls to throw him off, and gets a punch to the mouth for his bad luck. Down he goes, but he snaps out a kick while prone that, judging by the crack and the yell that follows it, likely dislocates the guard's knee. He rolls up into a tight spring and taps the guard with the end of his staff.

    <<I'll be up there ASAP.>> He can't spit the blood out of his mouth thanks to the mask, but it also likely absorbed some of the impact of the blow, so. Silver linings?

    He tackles both remaining figures at once, and down he goes again, though this time it's a controlled fall. They come bursting out of the smoke and gas in a riot of flailing limbs and Red Robin pivots at the last moment to bring his weight, and his elbow, down on the left figure's--the guard's-- stomach. "Run!" he tells the hostage, pointing towards where the others are hiding, and then he's up again, staff swapped out for his grapple gun. It fires, and seconds later he alights on the deck of the boat.

Nicolai Codona has posed:
    He's really not a ghost. In regards to stamina and such, he's way better than the average human, way way better, but it's still human level and he's going at this hard and heavy. Nicolai's mop of curls is wet with sweat and plastered to his face. He's a little tired, he's leaking what his body uses for 'blood' and he's getting frustrated.
    "That. Is. Unacceptable. Behavior," he snarls before that whip lashes out to wrap around the gun hand of a guard that had been taking aim at Red Robin just as he lands in sight.
    That wicked whip curls and wraps around that hand tighter and tighter until the guard it's attached to drops the weapon and then drops to his knees to cry out in pain. Nicolai is using the whip to bend the man's hand backwards until *SNAP* go the bones in his wrist.
    The more frustrated Nicolai becomes in the heat of the battle, the more that telekinetic 'windstorm' he's kicked up intensifies. Now he's even pulling things up from the depths below, causing the water around the boat to churn and roll as sea life and debris from the ocean flies onto the deck, it's mostly fish flopping about helplessly with the occasional crustacean or can or plastic bottle thrown in for good measure.
     He'll apologize later if any of his unknown allies end up smacked upside the head by a wet fish, honestly he will!
    It's not often that Nicolai makes near deadly mistakes, but this is one of those times. He's so caught up in recent life frustrations and so caught up in causing that asshole on his knees pain for being an asshole when he should have disarmed him and left it, that he doesn't notice that one of the guards has a bead on him.
    The trigger's pulled, if this were an action film, time would slooooow waaaaaay down as that bullet whizzes toward the would-be hero and slams into his right shoulder from behind. Momentum spins him around half a turn before he stops, wide eyed and lets out a low, grunted, "Fuck me sideways..." He's still standing, but teetering. The whip vanishes to nothing, everything that was flying around the deck suddenly falls to the ground, the air warms rapidly.

Dick Grayson has posed:
Nightwing curses quietly, though of course the subvocal mics will pick it up. That's a dollar in the swear jar. His arm comes up and a gas pellet shoots out to strike the guard that shot Nicolai, enveloping him in a cloud as the eldest of Batman's proteges moves into the attack on the other guard Nicolai was facing. A quick jab of a baton tases the man, then he looks around for any further targets. If there are none, he will move to Nicolai to see about stopping any bleeding... or leaking, as the case may be. He pulls a first aid kit out of his utility belt and sprays a liquid bandage over the gunshot wound.

<<I've got a gunshot victim here, he was fighting the guards. He's not bleeding blood, I'm not sure what to do with him.>>

Stephanie Brown has posed:
<< I am going to get the hostages out of the line of fire. If you need help with The Glow over there on the ship I'll come running. >> Batgirl says as she moves among the hostages. She asks them quietly, "Is everyone ok to move? We're going to head for that warehouse there, get on the other side of it and I'll have the police meet you there. Ok? Alright, get ready then," she says after getting nods of agreement.

Batgirl peers out, making sure there aren't any gunmen able to see them well, and then she motions with her hand for them to make their break for it. She heads off with them, heading behind the warehouse with them and already putting in a call to GCPD. << I'll call for an ambulance as well. >>

Tim Drake has posed:
    The arc Red Robin travels up and onto the boat in is graceful, well-practiced, but as soon as he lands he nearly loses his balance. The bay's gone choppy unexpectedly, and it isn't until he's up here that he notices the level of ongoing supernatural disturbance. Floating objects, sudden chill to the air... his eyes narrow behind his mask.

    He's prepared to duck out of the way of the gun aimed at him, but that's taken care of. A good thing, too, because another guard--actually a member of the ship's crew, judging by the lack of all-black body armor-- barrels at him from the side, swinging a length of metal that Red Robin thinks might be a crowbar.

    With a twist of his body he ducks out of the way and absorbs the impact of his attacker's weight, rolling with it, until Red Robin is kneeling over the other man, trying to grapple the crowbar away, though it's a struggle.

    The crack of a nearby gunshot cuts through the chill night air.

    It's enough to unnerve the crewmember, make his grip slip, and Red Robin wrenches the crowbar away, delivering one solid blow with it that's likely concussion-worthy. He rises to his feet after and sweeps his immediate surroundings as he pushes himself up against a nearby cargo container, but it's gone quiet. Both from the poltergeist infestation and the sounds of combat. He hazards a look over the boat's railing to the docks. Between the anesthetic gas and the combined efforts of the three Bats on scene with their ghastly late addition, all hostiles are down, all hostages accounted for (though one of them is down for the count due to gas inhalation, and the others are working to hold him upright).

    <<Copy that,>> he tells Batgirl as he slips across the deck, sparing a glance and a nod towards Nightwing providing first aid, then working to clear the scene as briskly as possible with the help of zipties from a compartment of his belt. <<Not sure Gotham General is prepped to deal with, uh, ectoplasm?>>

    He leans over the side of the boat, watching as Batgirl rounds up the hostages. And then he steps back, into the open cargo container, his eyes scanning the boxes inside. "Given the current chip shortage, this has got to be worth...." He goes quiet as he starts the calculations in his head.

Nicolai Codona has posed:
    Nicolai is now looking more like a 'normal boy' at least. That is save the fact that he's leaking glowing goo and his eyes still do glow that unearthly aqua blue. He's a little paler than when he bent down to 'tie his shoelace' but he no longer looks like a Walking Dead extra.
    He looks at Nightwing and then up and behind. "Lookout!" A few things happen at once.
    Nicolai reaches out and jerks Nightwing forward with all he's got left in him.
    One last bullet whizzes past where Nightwing's head used to be.
    And Dick and Nicolai end up in a pile on the deck of the ship, the former on top.
    AWKWARD!
    ... "Uh, hi. I'm Nicolai, Nix if you want... or Haunt even..." It's sort of wheezed out because, hello, a little squished and a little shot.
    Whoever made that shot doesn't take another one. It was likely a last ditch effort and once it ended in failure, the guy turned tail and ran.

Dick Grayson has posed:
Nightwing oofs as he's suddenly pulled forward by the person he's trying to bandage, ending up on top of the younger man as he introduces himself. He doesn't take time to return introductions, instead leaping to his feet and turning in the direction the shot came from, raising his arm, ready to fire a dart at the attacker. However, he seems to be gone, so he turns back to the young man and goes back to his medic work. <<Got one armed guy still out there, probably running>>

To Nicolai, he says, "I'm Nightwing, and honestly, that wasn't too smart a move on your part. Especially given that I'm guessing taking you to a hospital isn't going to help much, since this is not blood I'm working to stop leaking out of you. Is there something specific I can do to help you?"

Tim Drake has posed:
    Doing quick math is well within Red Robin's wheelhouse, so he's back out of the container and in the middle of a brief conversation with a friendly contact in the GCPD to coordinate wrap-up. He's halfway through detaching his mask, revealing a split lip and blood on his teeth.

    Not that that's an excuse for not clearing the scene properly. He's got an shuriken airborne in a second, but it's not fast enough to stop the gunshot that, thanks to Nicolai, doesn't find its target. <<Sorry, that's on me.>> He sounds contrite, even as he's in pursuit. <<You good? GCPD will be here in 10 minutes.>>

    He's on the move again, boots pounding against the deck, and seconds later Red Robin slams into their last fleeing hostile from behind. They collectively bounce off the corner of a container, going down hard. Both Nightwing and Batgirl will hear his grunt over the comms, but a second later, <<He's down.>> With a punch to the face.

    It's a few moments later that he reappears, hand dropping from where it had been pressed against his side. "Do you need to go to the hospital?" he asks their unknown backup (having missed the introduction between him and Nightwing) but Dick's got a point. "I have a place on Gate Street I can take him. Not exactly a five star establishment but I'm pretty sure all of the first aid supplies are still in date."

    Of course they are. It's Tim. He's too obsessive to let something like meds go bad.

    "Can you stand?" He'll offer a shoulder if he has to.

Nicolai Codona has posed:
    "Well damn, next time I'll leave the bullet hit the brain pan," Nicolai replies, but his tone is surprisingly good natured given the circumstances. "I've seen worse..." Injuries that is. He actually manages to roll that shoulder, although it causes him to grind his teeth to keep from making any noise.
    After a beat, he recovers and explains, "Nothing broken, minor muscle tearing. Musta went through between the clavicle and the scapula, small caliber." Even as he's speaking those odd eyes are scanning their surroundings for more possible surprises.
    "Just seal it up... I should be good."
    He grins up at Tim. "I could run a 10k in the snow, uphill all the way," he jokes. Probably not, but he can stand ... and does. "Bed for the night might be nice, it's a long trip back home."
    He extends his left hand rather than his dominate right for obvious reasons. "Nicolai... or Nix... or Haunt... sometimes I'll answer to 'hey asshat'." Apparently he doesn't know about this whole 'keeping it super sekrit' thing.

Dick Grayson has posed:
Helping the young man up so Tim can give him a hand, Nightwing nods, "I mean, it's not a terrible thing that you want to help with this sort of thing, because you obviously have some kind of powers, but you might need some training, maybe a bulletproof vest or something wouldn't hurt. Plus, Batman kind of has a dim view of folks other than the ones he's trained doing this sort of thing in Gotham."

He looks to Tim, then nods, "Why don't you take him to your place and get him properly patched up? We can figure things out from that point. I'll cuff up the bad guys and make sure GCPD takes care of things here, you get him gone before they show up or they'll want him for questioning."

Looking back to Nicolai, he says, "This is Red Robin, another of the Gotham family, he's going to take care of you for now, ok?"

Tim Drake has posed:
    "Haunt," Tim says, because that sounds the most like a codename, and he defaults naturally to that level. "Thanks for the assist." The tilt of his head suggests he glances down at Nicolai's wound. "I can do some basic wound care once we've released the scene to GCPD. Come on."

    Nightwing gets Nicolai up and then Red Robin, after a rather careful shake of his hand, gets a steadying grip on his uninjured arm. "Don't worry, we'll get you patched up and home before you know it," he adds.

    True to Red Robin's estimate, police cars swarm the docks in short order. By that point he's already had a hushed conversation with one of the responding officers over a private channel, primarily to advocate for the care of the hostages currently under Batgirl's watch. He leaves the final wrap-up to Nightwing with a quick nod of his head and then another nod to a neurotic-looking female officer with a pinched expression (likely due to lack of sleep) and her hair held up in a bun via pencil before he's escorting Haunt away.

Nicolai Codona has posed:
    "Well, I was only here to find bow rosin," Nicolai offers, maybe a little defensively. It's not like he meant to stumble into the middle of all this. "I didn't come looking for a fight." He'd have been more prepared if he had. But once the fight was in front of him, it just wasn't in his nature to turn and walk away.
    Once he's mostly out of Nightwing's earshot, he asks Red, "Is he *always* that charming? Or do they remove the board from his ass every second Tuesday of the month?"

Tim Drake has posed:
    Why Nicolai thought the docks were an appropriate place for late-night shopping isn't commented on, though Red Robin does kind of gesture in confusion at their surroundings, so actually he does kind of comment on it. Just non-verbally. He only gives a shake of his head after that, surveying the scene they're departing over his shoulder before he marches Haunt onward, laying out a path in his head that sticks to alleyways and the streets less likely to be busy at this time of night.

    "Hey, none of us are particularly used to unknowns popping up in our neck of the woods," he says, and then swipes his tongue over his lower lip. Which, ow, stings.

    Right. Totally got punched there. He forgot. "Trust me, that was a pretty warm welcome by our standards. You're lucky it was the three of us and not some of the less... uh, well-socialized of our team." His shoulders cringe upwards slightly, though he's having a hard time keeping his expression neutral while he contemplates how much of an understatement that is in some cases.

    He leaves the docks without another backwards glance. A half dozen hostages with relatively minor injuries, seventeen hogtied hostiles, and over eight million dollars worth of no-longer-missing computer chips. All in a night's work.