It didn't take long for the Hoods to scatter onto the scene. Croats stepping into their territory always brought up a red flag, seeing as they weren't terribly subtle and couldn't get more than five paces into Hood areas without someone catching a glimpse. Strangers were watched closely on this land. If one person seemed even the slightest bit off, they were shot down, dragged to Jason, and dealt with accordingly (if they managed to survive the trip over). Fortunately for Dick, the sight of Croats surging onto their property took all the red-hot attention off him. The Hoods were more interested in the obvious threat first; that meant that, for now, he was safe. How long that would last after the Croats were gone, however...well. That was another story.
The Hoods dropped in from all over, guns blasting wildly in the dark. The Croats bodies crumpled to the ground one by one, flailing back and forth and turning in every direction until there was only but one left standing. The firing stopped, but the guns didn't drop. Each and every Hood, dressed in their grungy street clothing, stared Dick down with dark, intimidating looks pressed clean across their faces. It wasn't that crap intimidating look that people saw in the movies either - this was real, raw, and deadly. One could tell that if they pushed these people the wrong way, they'd be sure to suffer for it.
None of the men spoke. They merely stood there, steadily keeping their weapons focused on the intruder. There must have been about ten of them standing in a circle around Dick, blocking out every single exit that he had available - save one. Soon enough though, that one, too, was covered as a dark figure began to move forward and fill in the gap. He wore a black leather jacket, matching black jeans, a pair of biker boots, and a blood-red helmet on his head. An AK-47U was strapped to the man's shoulders, partnered with the pair of handguns that he wore strapped along the underside of his jacket. In his hands was a long, jagged knife. A gift. One that Jason Todd cherished greatly.
Through the helmet, Jason examined the catch. He had been patrolling not too far from where they now stood before the action began - Jason took it upon himself to walk among his men, as to prove that he was a fair leader - and it hadn't taken him long to jump onto the scene. He was grateful for that. Because if he hadn't gotten here now, there was a good chance that the man that they had trapped would have tried to run off. And that would have been a shame. Jason wouldn't have wanted to find Dick Grayson in pieces.
That would have been a very depressing family reunion.