"Alright, let's go." Boss called from the hallway. I nodded lazily, my chocolate brown bangs bobbing in and out of my vision. I had been working for the Falcone crime family for a year and a half now. Doing small jobs, occasional hits, but mostly being a bed warmer. That's a nice way of saying 'whore'. Mr. Maroni liked to keep his thugs happy. He said that they worked more eagerly after being laid. I stood up and took Mr. Maroni's right side. "Where are we going, Boss?" A dark looking thug on Sal's other side grunted, as if restating my question but in his own terms. "The cops are getting not only my money, but Chechen's and Gambol's too. That's a problem. We have to solve it. Quickly. And together, unfortunately." I smirked. "I love mob meetings." Mr. M chuckled. "Well, that makes one of us." Sal and I got along famously, which often made the other henchmen jealous, especially the one's who had been working since way before I ended up here. Mr. Maroni liked my whit and sense of humor. He liked to keep me close. Most of the guys suspected that he and I were sleeping together. But that's not true, Sal loves his wife. Mr. M's favorite limo rolled up in the drive. I held open the glass doors of the building, letting Mr. Maroni step through and onto the limo. The other thug followed, glaring at me. He snorted after looking me up and down. Ok, so I dressed a bit different than everyone else. They would never get me into those stupid little cocktail dresses. My usual duds were dark wash skinny jeans, some chucks and a t-shirt. I liked to keep it simple and age appropriate. Being only 17, it worked fine. Mr. Maroni slipped into the back of the limo, the lump of a guy following. I closed the door behind them and then took my place in the passenger's seat up by the driver. He smiled as I sat down. "Haven't seen you in a while, Julie." I shut the door and clicked in my seat belt. "Missed me, Joe?" He nodded and rolled down the window connected to the back cab. "All set, Mr. Maroni?" He called back. "All set." Joe nodded, rolled the window up and shot forward. I clenched my seat. "SHIT!" Joe laughed and picked up the speed. I shook my head. "Must you drive like a crazy person?" The limo's tire's screeched as we took a sharp turn to the left. "It's more fun this way." I sighed and closed my eyes, I hated reckless drivers. "Yeah, just lean back and keep your eyes closed." I snorted but followed his advice.
"JESUS!" I yelped as the limo jerked to a stop. "We're here." I put my hand over my heart, it was fluttering like a bird's wings. I wasn't afraid of gun fights, knife fights, assassination attempts or drugs. But bad driving scared me senseless. "See ya later, kid." I stumbled out of the limo. "Yeah, yeah." Mr. Maroni stepped out of the vehicle and straightened his tie. The thug began to get out but Boss stopped him. "Stay here." A grunt came for a reply. Mr. Maroni started walking towards the meeting place. I jogged up to his side. "What about protection? I don't think I'm enough." I fingered the gun in my hip hostler and then the knife that was up my sleeve. Sal chuckled. "Of course you're not. I sent five guys earlier. Y'know to scout out the location." I nodded as we entered the building. "Gosh, kid. You still got a lot to learn." My jaw clenched as we trudged down a hallway. I could hear the voices of men echoing down from the end of the hall. We entered a large white room with cinderblock walls. One long table was in the middle with Gambol and the Chechen already seated. There was an empty chair, obviously for Mr. Maroni. We were stopped in front of a metal detector. Mr. Maroni grimaced as he surrendered his gun. I bit my lip and started unloading. First my gun at the hip, then the one on my left calf. I slipped my favorite knife from my sleeve and then the three that had been concealed in my waist band. I only noticed that the room had gone silent and everyone's eyes were on me when I stepped through the machine. I caste my eyes downward and shuffled over to Mr. Maroni's other goons. The Chechen laughed boisterously. "You hire kids now?" I crossed my arms. "She's efficient."
Gambol was about to put his two cents in on the matter when two men came in carrying a TV. "What is this?" Boss said while gesturing to the TV. The men only nodded. The screen flashed to life and Mr. Lau's face appeared. I had only seen him once or twice but I knew he handled a good sum of Mr. Maroni's finances. "As you're all aware one of our deposits was stolen. A relatively small amount, sixty eight million." My eyes bulged, I still wasn't used to the way these people handled their money. "Who's stupid enough to steal from us?" The Chechen asked, leaning towards the TV. "Two-bit whack job, wears a cheap purple suit and make-up. He's not the problem, he's a nobody. The problem is our money being tracked by the cops." Sal said while frowning slightly. "Thanks to Mr. Maroni's well played sources, we know that police have indeed identified our banks using marked bills and are planning to seize your funds, today. And since the enthusiastic new D.A. has put all my competitors out of business, I'm your only option." Lau smirk slightly at the last bit.
I clenched my fists. Harvey Dent, Gotham City's new District Attorney. He'd already caused so much trouble for the underbelly of Gotham. He needed to go down, fast. "So what do you propose?" Gambol irked from the end of the table. "Moving all deposits to one secure position, not a bank." Lau retorted. "Where then?" You could tell that Gambol wasn't feeling sure of this idea. "No one can know but me. If the police were to gain leverage over one of you, everyone's money will be at stake." The smirk from Lau's face was gone now. "Who'd stop them getting to you?" The Chechen was always a little more enthusiastic about these 'get togethers' than everyone else. "I go to Hong Kong, far from Dent's jurisdiction and the Chinese will not extradite one of their own." Lau's smirk was back. "How soon can you move the money?" Boss asked, thoroughly interested now. Alright, I get that money is important but it's all these people ever talk about. I shuffled my weight from one foot to the other. "I already have. For obvious reasons I couldn't wait for your permission. Rest assured, your money is safe." Then a dark voice started to laugh from the back entrance. "Ha-ha, ha-ha, ha-ha, ha-ha. Oh, hee-hee, aha. Ha, ooh, hee, ha-ha, ha-ha." A man wearing a purple suit emerged from the shadows. His face was painted white, with black around his eyes, making them seem sunken in, the whites of his eyes broke the solid darkness. A jagged red smile was painted across his face. From the distance I could just barely make out the deformity of scars under the red. His hair was curly and brownish-blonde with just the slightest twinge of green. It hung to his shoulders. "And I thought my jokes were bad." He sneered his voice child-like but still deep. He was fascinating, I could feel the dryness of my eyes from not blinking.
"Gimme one reason why I shouldn't have my boy here pull your head off." Gambol gestured to one of his thugs behind him. Said thug advanced on the purple clad clown. "How 'bout a magic trick?" He pulled a pencil from seemingly no where and stabbed it into the table. "I'm going to make this pencil disappear." The thug was next to him, reaching to grab his arm. The clown grabbed the back of the thug's head and slammed him face first into the pencil. The thug's body went limp and slipped to the floor, pencil firmly lodged in his skull. I gulped. It did disappear. The clown spread his arm's wide to the place where the pencil had once been. "TA DA! It's haaa, It's gone." He took a seat and adjusted his jacket. "Oh and by the way, the suit, it wasn't cheap. You oughta know, you bought it." Gambol shot up with his fist clenched. "That's it." The Chechen held up his hand. "I want to hear proposition." The clown nodded. "Let's wind the clocks back a year. These cops and lawyers wouldn't dare cross any of you. I mean, what happened? J'ya balls drop off? Hm? You see a guy like me.." "A Freak!" Gambol interjected. Scattered chuckles sounded around the room. "Aaaaaa guy like me. Look. Listen, I know why you choose to have your little" He stopped to clear his throat. "group therapy sessions in broad daylight. I know why you're afraid to go out at night." He paused. "The Batman. See, Batman has shown Gotham your true colors, unfortunately. Dent, he's just the beginning. And as for the televisions so called 'plan'. Batman has no jurisdiction. He'll find him and make him squeal." His hands squeezed together as if he was strangling a snake. "I know the squealers when I see them and…" He pointed to the TV. Mr. Lau reached up and turned of his camera, the TV screen flickered and then went black. "What do you propose?" The Chechen asked.
"It's simple. We, uh, kill the Batman." Laughter sprang from the throats of the many mobsters and gang members. I stayed silent, staring at his captivating features. Our eyes met for a fraction of a second. I stopped breathing. He smirked in the littlest way and refocused his gaze on Maroni. "If it's so simple why haven't you done it already?" Mr. Maroni said, the laughter still in his eyes. The man pointed to him. "If you're good at something never do it for free." The Chechen smiled. "How much you want?" The man's finger twitched from Mr. Maroni to me. "Her." My heart skipped a beat. "Her?" Mr. Maroni said. "Go ahead." One of my fellow goons shoved me towards the make-uped man. I looked at Mr. Maroni, the man I was in love with. I knew he didn't feel the same but being able to give me up so quickly? Mr. Maroni just smiled and shooed me away. My heart shattered. The clown caught me and quickly shoved me to his side. I gasped and bit my lip, keeping the tears concealed. "Aaaand." Gambol sighed. "Of course, and?" The clown pushed me a little towards the door. "Uhhh, Half." Once again chuckles echoed through the room. Gambol shook his head. "You're crazy." The clown bowed his head. "I'm not. No, I'm not." He straightened out then. "If we don't deal with this now. Soon little uh, Gambol, here won't be able to get a nickel for his Grandma." Gambol's fists slammed onto the table and he stood. "Enough from the clown." Said clown stood and almost backed into me. I scooted more towards the door. My new boss opened one side of his jacket, revealing an arsenal of grenades, all the safety pins attached to a string in his hand. All of the men in the room stood and froze like deer in head lights. "Ah taa tu tta taaa. . Let's not blow" he tugged on the string softly "this out of proportion." Gambol was breathing heavily. "You think you can steal from us and just walk away?" I scooted up next to the exit door. "Yeah." The clown shuffled a little like an excited little boy. "I'm putting the word out. Five hundred grand for this clown dead. A million alive, so I can teach him some manners first." Gambol practically shouted. "Right, so. Listen, why don't you gimme a call when you want to start taking things a little more seriously." He pulled out a Joker playing card and set it on the table. "Here's my card." He played with the string of grenades. "Mm mm." I shuffled into the hallway as I saw him coming towards the door. I pressed myself up against the cold wall in the hallway. He kicked open the doors and turned towards me. He dropped the string and grabbed my arm. "Come on." A smile of victory was plastered on his face. I could barely walk. Things were happening too quickly. I had left all my weapons. I had a new boss. I had a broken heart. "Why?" I whispered. He looked back at me, smiling ear to ear. The scars stretching and becoming more gruesome. "Why ask why when how is so much more fun!" He giggled and then broke out in spine chilling laughter.