<div class="floatleft">(http://static.comicvine.com/uploads/original/14/147508/4593900-1.jpg)</div><hr/><strong>Name:</strong>? ? ?<br/><strong>Nom de Guerre:</strong>Deathstroke "The Terminator."<br/><strong>Affiliation:</strong>The Highest Bidder.<br/><strong>Time:</strong>Saturday the 17th of October 2015, 20:26<br/><strong>Location:</strong>S.T.A.R Labs, Gotham East.<br/><strong>Tagging:</strong>Superboy, Nightwing, Batwoman, Spoiler.<br/><strong>Theme Music:</strong>The Wild Card by Really Slow Motion (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r4o94jEXUmA)<br/><hr/><hr/><strong>Summary:</strong>After recovering from the teams counterattack, Deathstroke decides that attempting to retrieve the cube from the united team is a lost cause and opts instead to withdraw; he has a plan for how to complete his contract, but it doesn't include staying to fight. There is no shame in withdrawing when you're out of options, and Deathstroke decides not to let his overconfidence outweigh his pragmatism and tactical acumen. The Cube is, for the moment, lost...so there is no longer any reason to stay.<br/><hr/><hr/><br/>Unfortunately for Deathstroke, Captain Tightpants proved to be just a bit too fast for him to react to quickly enough to outright counter the attack; between FemBat's assault and his split attention, even<em>his</em>enhanced brain couldn't keep up with everything. As Tightpants dropped from the ceiling behind him, Deathstroke began to turn - had he begun just a second sooner, he might even have caught Tightpants as he fell, but alas, his senses were a little occupied with keeping an eye on FemBat, SuperMask<em>and</em>The Cube - but ended up starting just a fraction of a second too late. He felt Tightpants's grapple close around his shoulders for a second time - at least this time, he decided to keep his feet on the ground; he'd learned<em>something</em>from his previous falls, at the very least - but something about that time was...more different than just that. As soon as Tightpants's arms closed around his throat, Deathstroke momentarily felt a sudden spasm go through his body at the contact, as if somebody had plugged him directly into a wall socket and turned on the juice. His muscles tightened slightly against his will, and his head was sent spinning for a moment at the shock of the sensation. He had to blink several times to clear his vision; it was unmistakably electricity that had passed through him - and was still passing through him, though at a reduced voltage than the initial contact - so apparently, Tightpants had added a few extra tricks to his repertoire since he had fought him over a decade ago...as well he should have; any fighting style that remained static for over a decade was bound to be outdated when it fought somebody more "modern" and innovative, and it showed a lack of improvement. Deathstroke would have been impressed, if he weren't so irritated. Still...his armour had a protective mesh underneath it, so the contact wasn't directly to his skin, and he wasn't an ordinary human; he could withstand voltages far in excess of that which would incapacitate a human...despite his moment of weakness, he was soon back in control enough to force his muscles to move against the will of the electricity. First step? Get that charged grip away from his throat. Also, consider insulation of some kind for a future upgrade to his suit.<br/><br/>With some effort, he reached up to Tightpants's arms and gripped the wrists in his heavy gloves, slowly beginning to pry them away from his suit. He glanced forwards briefly - SuperMask seemed to be up to something, from the way he was angling his body, so it would be an idea for 'Stroke to hurry up - and, with an almighty heave, managed to clamp down on Tightpants's wrists<em>hard,</em>not caring whether he broke them or not, and ripped his grip away from his neck. The debilitating voltage stopped instantly, and Deathstroke growled slightly under his breath...that was the last time that Tightpants would be jumping on his back. He shifted his body, using Tightpants's arms as a lever...and then swung his leg backwards, bending at the knee, directly between Tightpants legs. It flicked upwards, but Deathstroke didn't wait to see if it hit. Turning and releasing Tightpants's arms, he pulled his right arm back, ready for a solid punch...and then his leg was pulled from under him by some force, and he was sent tumbling to the ground as he was dragged backwards. Turning and looking down at his leg, even as he was pulled along, he spotted it; a cable, connected to some kind of hook that he hadn't realised was around his leg before - that was the drawback with heavy armour; you miss light taps on it if you aren't paying attention - that led off into the smoke towards the silhouette of SuperMask. He growled again in frustration and, in one quick motion, reached back with his right hand and swept his sword out of its scabbard, bringing it in an arc straight through the cable, severing it neatly. He tumbled to a stop and sprung to his feet, using the last of the momentum to push himself into a half-spring, half-roll, facing the shape of SuperMask through the smoke. He took a step towards him...then abruptly darted to the side as he saw a deep red glow streaking towards his side through the smoke. A normal human wouldn't have been able to dodge it, but thanks to Deathstrokes superior reflexes, it sailed harmlessly past his left arm, only just scratching the edge of the armour.<br/><br/>Alas, he didn't see the next blow coming; a force, similar to the invisible punch that had sent him spinning earlier in the fight, drove into his front and sent him sailing into the air, backwards and back over the group he'd just been pulled past by the grappling hook...that ability in particular was getting frustrating to deal with. How could you counter something you couldn't see coming? That would require some research on how to mitigate, he reckoned. He knew that Promethium absorbed kinetic energy, so perhaps a higher concentration in the plates of his armour would negate the push? Something to look into before he ran into this SuperMask again, definitely...and at that point, it was a certainty that he was going to see them again. They did, after all, have his target. He flipped over himself again and twisted, landing neatly and elegantly in front of the group, between them and the main exit. He straightened slowly, regarding them critically...he had injured one of them, true, but the other three seemed to be extremely competent fighters, and experienced when it came to working in a team. He could take any one of them down on his own, given information on their capabilities - Tightpants and FemBat he knew he could outmatch one on one, so the only real wild card was SuperMask in that regard - but working as a well-gelled team? No. No, he had wasted too much time and his element of surprise, and they would undoubtedly close ranks around the injured carrier of his target. There was little chance of him getting past them to her, especially if they worked as well as a team as it seemed they did. And the longer the fight went on, the better idea they got of his capabilities and equipment. The prudent thing to do would be to withdraw, do his homework and plan out a counter attack properly, with the right equipment and the right intel. He had their broadcast frequency - his hacking device would have automatically jammed and logged it - so perhaps he could do something with that? Either way, his heist had been a failure and there was no chance of recovering it now. Thus...withdraw and regroup. There was no shame in retreat, when faced with a hopeless situation. Retreat was not fleeing; retreat was simply pulling back to a more favourable location in order to marshal resources and attempt to regain the initiative.<br/><br/>Fishing into his pouch, he selected his most powerful flashbang - one that was theorised to be able to stun even Superman for several moments - and hurled three of them, one after another, ahead of him. He turned just as they went off and dashed out the door and into the street beyond. He had an escape route planned out; as soon as he hit the street, he disappeared down into the lead-lined sewer pipes beneath Gotham, and was gone. By the time the heroes had regained their bearings, there would be no sign of him whatsoever.<br/>He had gotten overconfident and outstayed his element of surprise with poor intel and only the most basic of combat equipment...next time, he wouldn't make that mistake. He needed that Cube...and he had already begun to formulate a plan to get it.