Thursday 23rd April 2009, 23:00.
New Jersey,
Gotham City,
East End.
It was dark.
Always is.
Always will be.
The rain that poured down from the skies was another constant within the city, yet he couldn't feel the ran striking against his skin. He couldn't hear the thunderous downpour and harsh pattering against the ground around him.
He was defeated.
Again.
Esau couldn't even clench his fists in anger as he lay there, clothes sticking to his skin from the rain. His body was in agony, his ribs still cracked from his fight against Talon and made worse by the bullets that struck his chest. Blood seeped from his wounds, the metallic taste thick upon his lips, vision blurring and darkening around the edges.
He was well and truly defeated.
But not by a hero.
Not by one of Gotham's many supervillains.
Not by a trained assassin.
Not a seasoned mercenary.
It was by the lowly grunts, the thugs of a single organisation.
An embarrassment, plain and simple.
Things had gone well in the beginning, Esau infiltrating the meeting point quietly and unnoticed. He dispatched a few guards upon his journey and got himself into a good position to observe the meeting taking place down below.
As Esau had expected, the meeting began with a pissing contest between the heads of each family. Insults and barbs were shared, the group nearly coming to blows on a number of occasions. But calmer heads prevailed, the desperation of their situation staying their hands long enough for them to actually get down to business.
From there, the topics they discussed varied massively.
Beginning with their progress in the war they had created, Esau would admit, he was impressed that they had accomplished what they had while still fighting one another. But it showed that they had a unique advantage that most other organisations did not have, an advantage that was reaching an endpoint.
It was this part where Esau learned a lot about the inner workings of Gotham that had eluded him.
The Cartels and Yakuza, the weakest powers in Gotham's organised crime outside of the various gangs had begun making big moves. The current leaders of their branches had been deposed during the police's tearing apart of Gotham City, but as international organisations, they were able to recover much quicker. They had a hierarchy clearly established so that when orders came down, they were followed.
It was the same with the Yakuza.
Now, with new leaders of these branches, the once small-time organisations began to make some big moves, seeing an opportunity to secure a larger foothold in Gotham. As a result, the Casa Nostra was being stalled in their own efforts, their internal conflict proving to be the biggest limiter on their progression.
But most importantly, the Falcones, Maronis and other families in Gotham had also seen a change in leadership. Whereas before they had been stuck fighting amongst themselves for a new leader to follow and now they were retaliating.
It was there Esau had learned that the various prison transports, including the decoys, had been attacked by an unknown organisation. A militaristic and strategic strike that not only took out the police guarding the convoys but the criminals pursuing to free those trapped as well as the lieutenants inside.
One that many had accredited to the Hammer and their employers, the Bertinelli Family.
It was all news to Esau though, a reason he stayed his hand.
The more he could learn now, the more effective he could become in the future as he lined up his next targets.
At this point though, the conversation took a turn, discussing what they would do next in their fight against the Bertinelli Family. Naturally, arguments erupted all unable to agree on a plan based purely on the principle of hating the person who suggested one.
It was amusing to watch.
The plans suggested were good ones, but because they despised those who suggested them, the others refused to use them. A petty and stupid reason, but one that provided a sight Esau was happy to watch unfold before him.
However, it was arguments like these that led to inattention and focus on the wrong things, on everyone's part, including his. While the meeting had been unfolding before his eyes, the building had come under attack, the fact that Esau had no clue about this happening until it happened told him that they were good.
Both individually and as a team.
He had seen them move as they attacked the main foyer, they were well-coordinated, moving with purpose and an understanding of their roles that required no conscious thought on their part. It was instinct to them, targets lined up and bullets fired in a fraction of a second, covering one another's backs as they moved across the room as men dropped likes flies.
Esau didn't even have time to react before the heads of each of the families were dead, their guards in a similar situation. At which point Esau realised he was trapped, the building surrounded and now secured by the attackers, he was now their only opponent left.
Getting in was easy, getting out had proved impossible.
These weren't common thugs who moved around lazily and without a care in the world or an understanding of what they needed to do. No, these guys were professionals, patrolling the corridors and checking rooms meticulously, gazes sharp and not missing a thing.
It was why he was found so quickly.
There were no holes in their security for him to slip through.
But Esau had been confident even when he was found that he could at the very least fight his way to safety.
A confidence that was shattered very quickly.
Individually, they were skilled, but not as much as him.
He had managed to get the better of them all on many occasions, the skill difference and experience in unarmed combat proved to be firmly in his favour. In fact, there were very few areas in which he was not dominant compared to his opponents.
Yet, it was not individually that Esau failed, nor had they succeeded.
They were a team, a well-oiled machine.
As Esau was fighting three of them, a fourth was sending out a radio signal that alerted them to his presence, Black Hood's presence. The response was rapid and decisive, Esau getting overwhelmed not by sheer number, but through superior teamwork. They came at him from all angles, blocking his strikes for those that could not and attacking him from directions he could not avoid.
If Esau had been beaten by fifteen, he would have accepted it.
If it had been ten, Esau would not feel the way he did now.
But it was only six people that beat him.
Six that overwhelmed him, six-foot soldiers who worked so seamlessly together, attacking and defending, covering each other's weaknesses and ensuring that Esau could not capitalise on vulnerabilities. Esau had been defeated so definitively that there was no way he could argue otherwise and all he could do was lay there.
He could move, feelings besides pain returning to him.
But it was not pain that stopped him from moving.
It was humiliation.
Humiliation at having been defeated so soundly, so completely that he just wanted to give in, for the ground beneath him to swallow him whole. How could he call himself Black Hood and let himself get beaten in such a way?
He couldn't.
What made it worse is that they didn't kill him, they just left him here.
They spared him.
Why?
He did not know and nor did he care.
They just had and it was the most humiliating thing of all.
-X-
Thursday 23rd April 2009, 23:15.
New Jersey,
Gotham City,
East End.
'Defeat like this will serve as an excellent lesson for you, Esau.' Deathstroke thought as he looked upon the defeated figure of Black Hood as he lay there unmoving. 'But now, it is all up to you. Are you going to continue laying there, never growing beyond this moment? Or are you going to get up, learn from this defeat and become stronger because of it?'
He had known this would happen.
It was precisely why Deathstroke had warned Esau against going because he knew, that the moment he did this, Esau would do the exact opposite. He was so desperate to not be manipulated that he was letting himself get manipulated so easily.
But it worked perfectly for Deathstroke.
This would be a pivotal moment in Esau's growth, whether he accepted this defeat, got up and brushed himself off to continue fighting. Or whether he would obsess over this defeat, let it consume him entirely and break him down little by little till there was nothing left. If the former happened, Esau would have broken through one of the most difficult walls that stood between the good and the great, if he didn't, his limit would be clear.
However, it would also drive Esau one step closer to the serum as well.
He had refused Batman's suit initially out of pride, despite whatever reasons he gave.
Esau then accepted Talon's offer out of desperation, he realising just how far he had to go.
Now, he was once more refusing his serum because Esau was determined to not be manipulated and used by others. Even though he knew the value of the serum, he refused it not out of pride, but out of fear.
Fear of being manipulated once more.
But once Esau overcame that fear, he would find the path before him clear.
Deathstroke had a mission to fulfil and guiding Esau down that path was necessary for its success. It was why he had called in the favour the Commissar owed him to ensure that Esau would not be killed then and there.
If he hadn't, Esau's journey would have ended prematurely.
He could not allow that to happen.