Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed! It is very motivating. In this chapter there is a reference to a vehicle called a 7-ton. For those who don't know what it is…it's a large military transport vehicle. You see it in all the war movies; the big truck with a bunch of guys stuffed in the back of it. There is also a joke/story that Jack tells…this joke is not mine; it's an old military joke. So…. happy readying and please let me know what you think!


"A day without blood is like a day without sunshine."

-Private Joker, Full Metal Jacket (1987)

Chapter 2-

Jack impatiently tapped his fingers across the steering wheel as he listened to his partner, Frankie, nervously ramble from the passenger seat. The two were parked at the docks waiting to meet with someone who had become a burden to their boss. This was a constant encumbrance in his life. Always lying in wait like a snake, to devour the helpless. It always ended the same way. The murky waters that lapped against the docks held much more than ships. Although, he had become quite used to this aspect of his job, he couldn't help, but feel dread in the pit of his stomach.

Normally Jack knew nothing about the person he would have to kill. As soon as he was given a job, he would immediately begin to fantasize about the horrible life that person undoubtedly led. He would imagine that they were ruthless, abusers that were loved by no one, had no family, and no one to morn them. But, this night was different; Jack knew exactly who his hit would be. He was well aware that the usual hideous traits he imagined were anything, but true.

Anthony Meo, who went by Tony, was new to Gotham. He, like Jack, had found himself entwined in the underbelly of Gotham's more questionable society. He, Jack, and Frankie had become improbable, but fast friends. Unlike his two companions though, Tony liked to talk about his line of work. Using it as a pick up line, or mode of intimidation. This went overlooked for quite a while, but eventually his foolish, self-bolstering became a liability and he had to be quieted.

Jack remained stoic on the outside, but felt an incredible amount of remorse for what he had to do. Jack knew that he and Tony were one in the same, and only a pair of loose lips separated them. Sal Valestra's verdicts were always the most severe. If you crossed him, you died. Jack knew that at any time, he could be the one about to walk into a grim fate.

"I would much rather be parked here with a woman than you," Frankie halfheartedly joked, to lighten the mood.

"Same here," Jack replied with a grin. "What do you think Sal does when he sends us out to do this shit?"

Frankie thought for a moment. "Well I think his evening starts by fucking his girlfriend at his office, then he goes home and fucks his wife. Then he sits around smoking a cigar thinking of another way to fuck us."

"That's a lot of fucking," Jack said with a sigh, as he slid down in his seat.

"Yeah, especially for you, since you're the bitch that totes him around from place to place," Frankie bantered.

Jack rubbed his tired eyes. "I enjoy that part of my job…It gives me time to think. Plus, I don't have to listen to you."

Frankie's expression fell into mock anguish. "Why do ya gotta say things like that? I'm hurt."

Jack laughed as he turned his sights back to the dock houses. He hoped that Tony would be a no show. Even though, he and Frankie would have to hunt Tony down, it would at least postpone the inevitable.

"This could be either one of us next time, ya know?" Frankie's voice was deathly somber, as if this revelation had just occurred to him.

"No!" Jack barked. "It won't be us. We are smarter than that,"

The truth was Jack knew Frankie was all too right. It was far easier to be defiant though. It won't happen to me.

"Yeah, we are smarter than to run our mouths all over town, but who knows what could set Sal off next time." Frankie's voice became almost frantic. "He could have told you to kill me, too." His eyes widened. "You could be planning to kill me right now."

"If I were going to kill you, I would have already done it." Jack turned slightly toward his fearful partner. "It won't be us."

Frankie's mind seemed to calm for a moment, only to be re-energized by his morose imagination. "Maybe Sal told Tony to kill us!"

Frankie had worked for Sal far longer than anyone else, but hadn't risen in the ranks. He was shorter than Jack and much stockier. He spoke and acted like he had just fallen out of a cheap mafia movie. Unless one had the time to get to know him, they would find him rather annoying. Jack had spent plenty of time with him, yet still found him annoying. All though their friendship was bristled, they still took comfort in each other's mutual experiences and found an unspoken camaraderie in their shared time as servicemen.

Frankie made up for his short stature with a fiery temper. Usually, when he and Jack were sent out on a job, Frankie was immediately ready to hand down the punishment. Jack always had to rein him in, but he was certain that would not be the case tonight. As fierce as Frankie could be, he had an unwavering loyalty and a sense of misguided morality that would be shaken by taking his friends life.

A loud knock against the driver window startled both of the men from their worried thoughts. Jack's heart sank as he turned to find Tony standing outside. Jack and Frankie traded uneasy glances to work up their courage before stepping out of the car.

"You guys are here early. Trying to impress the boss?" Tony jested.

"Yeah…uhhh…" Jack awkwardly answered. "Ya…Ya know how Frankie is…always trying to climb the corporate ladder."

Tony hesitated for a moment as he noticed the tension between his two usually gregarious partners. "So what's the job tonight?"

"Ummm…the usual." Frankie's voice shook clumsily.

Jack loudly cleared his throat to bring the attention back to himself. "There's a lot to it. There's an open dock house over there. Let's go in and I will explain it all to you."

Slowly Tony began to realize that something was amiss. This was the same speech that was given to each of their victims. He briefly thought to run, but there was no use. He had no choice, but to follow their instructions. If he ran from them, they would certainly follow. Anywhere that he went, he would be found. There was no escape.

The three men dragged their feet as they walked to the nearby dock house. Each thought over the possibilities of what could happen. Tony could fight back and take out one of the others with him. He could go down easy, or try to escape. Anything was a possibility.

As they crossed the threshold to the inside, Tony quickly turned to his colleagues. "If you are going to do this, at least do it quick."

Jack scowled as the large metal door slammed shut behind him. "Just wait…"

"No!" Tony interrupted. "Don't give me the same bullshit that we give everyone else. If you are going to do it…do it."

Jack stepped closer to Tony. "You don't even know what we are going to do."

"Y-you don't have to do anything." Tony's voice quivered as he begged for mercy. "You could just let me go. No one would ever know."

"You know we can't…"Jack began to answer, but was quickly stopped.

"Just hear me out," Tony pleaded. "I will leave the state; leave the country. I will never speak of you or any of this ever again." He backed away stumbling against an old wood table. "We always get rid of the bodies. No one would be the wiser."

Jack looked over his shoulder to Frankie, who was nervously shifting back and forth near the door. He fretfully fumbled with his pistol holster as he thought over Tony's words. Would anyone know? Tony was right, they always disposed of the bodies, and no one ever surfaced.

"Come on Jack. We're friends." Tony became more and more desperate with Jack's silence. His worried eyes turned to Frankie. "Frankie…please…think about it."

Before Frankie could speak, the loud echo of Jack's pistol firing resonated throughout the metal dock house; followed by the dull thump of Tony's lifeless body hitting the concrete floor. Jack stood over Tony for several moments watching the blood slowly pool around the toes of his shoes before backing away.

As he moved, he couldn't take his eyes off Tony's flaccid, lifeless body. He had seen countless dead bodies; dead bodies of friends, but never a body of a friend whose life he had personally taken. He didn't know how to feel. Admiration or disgust with himself for being capable of killing someone he called a comrade… a pal… a drinking buddy.

A familiar cold sweat began to form on his brow. He had to get out of here. The metallic smell of Tony's blood was over powering. It was forcing Jack to remember too many horrific things. He felt his chest tighten as he struggled for air.

Ripping his gaze away, he stumbled over a pile of rope as he turned to leave.

"I did the hard part. You clean it up," he spat out as he passed Frankie.

Rain began to lightly fall as Jack stalked back to the car. Something in him blackened when he pulled the trigger and caused one of his closest friends to die. He grabbed the door handle and threw himself inside the vehicle. His hands shook wildly as he grabbed the steering wheel, trying to steady them. He looked up for a moment to see Frankie struggling to pull Tony's body towards the edge of the dock. He violently sucked in the air, which was so easily evading him…before he could stop it his mind was back in war…back to the day he lost so many friends.


"So Napier…this enlistment is almost up. Is this it for you?" Gunnery Sergeant Hardy asked Jack from across the 7-ton.

He faltered for a moment before answering. Not because he was unsure of the answer, but because he knew that saying it out loud meant no turning back.

"No sir Gunny," he answered enthusiastically. "This is just the beginning!"

He looked around himself, at his brothers-in-arms. They were packed together like sardines in a can. They all grimaced and complained with every bump and bounce the 7-ton rolled over, but behind their bravado, they were terrified. This was the first tour of duty for some; others the second or third. They were all just kids playing war though, most not even old enough to buy a drink.

There was Private First Class Spidolski, who just went by Spi. He was nineteen years old and fresh out of boot camp. He left his high school sweetheart at home in Ohio. He constantly bragged of his plans to marry her when he got home. Then there was Lance Corporal Prowdy, who was affectionately nicknamed Rowdy Prowdy. He married his girlfriend three days before he deployed, but was sent a Dear John letter just a few months later. There were countless others- names that Jack would someday forget, but faces that would be etched into his mind forever.

"Sergeant Napier…heard any good jokes lately?" Spi hopefully asked.

Jack had become known as the jokester of Alpha Company. His comrades anxiously awaited whatever new joke he had in store for them. His timing was impeccable. He always had something up his sleeve to lighten the mood when it was most needed.

A shallow grin began to form across Jack's lips. "No…no new jokes. But, I got a pretty funny story that happened to me just before we left." He placed his hands atop his knees and straightened his back as if he were about to pass along a life changing pearl of wisdom. "So I was in this morning briefing with a Colonel that had failed to get a good night of sleep. He explained to us that his wife was pretty frisky the night before and he posed the question if sex is more work or pleasure." As Jack spoke he looked into each of the faces of the ones surrounding him, as if to get their opinion. "The highest ranking Officer answered that it was 75%-25% in favor of work. Another said 50%-50%. The lowest ranking Officer responded 25%-75% in favor of pleasure…depending upon his state of inebriation at the time." Jack's grin began to widen as he approached his punch line. "Then the Colonel turned to me- the only enlisted guy there that morning. I answered without hesitation that it is 100% pleasure, because if any work were involved an Officer would have me fucking his wife for him…"

Loud laughter filled the space between each of the men. Momentarily they had forgotten where they were. The horrors that had already been seen and were undoubtedly yet to be seen were pushed aside by the power of laughter.

The smile began to fade from Jack's lips as the laughter began to fade. He clutched his rifle close to him. Sometimes the cold piece steel that he gripped so tightly, was like a security blanket for a child- always there; always a constant protection from the monster that lurked in the dark. He felt the weary of sleepless nights begin to overtake him and he slowly closed his eyes.

As Jack opened his eyes he realized that he was no longer sitting in the back of a 7-ton. He lay flat on his back; unable to move. At first everything was deathly quiet; nothing could be seen but a smoking, orange glow coming from what use to be their transportation.

One-by-one moans and cries for help began to fill the air. Jack forced his eyes to focus on a dark mound that lay a few feet away from him. As the dust settled he could make out a misshapen body, belonging to who he thought was Spi. He tried to drag himself closer to get a better look, but was paralyzed to where his body had fallen. He felt as though his entire right side had been minced to pieces. Nothing worked on that side. He couldn't even feel if the appendages were still attached.

Through the smoke he could see the shapes of men walking amongst the fallen. At first he felt intense relief that help had arrived. That was until the cries for help were systematically quieted by rifle fire. Jack wildly felt the ground around him for something to defend himself with. When he realized his efforts were in vain he had nothing left to do but hold his body still. Try to play dead.

He could hear muffled footsteps coming closer to him. His body screamed out in pain and he struggled not to draw attention to himself. He began to think for a moment as he lay there -without a bullet in his head- that he had fooled his enemies. As hopeless as the situation was, he felt an absurd smugness that was quickly slapped away by the cruel, cold barrel of a rifle smashing into his cheek.


The sound of Frankie slamming the car door shut shook Jack back to reality.

He fixed his gaze on Frankie, "Did you take care of it?" His voice was breathless and raw.

Frankie angrily stared ahead as the rain began to pound harder on the roof of the car. "Yeah, it's taken care of."

Jack nodded to himself. "This is why I like being the bitch that totes Sal around…"


Months had passed since Jack had driven Sal to the Gotham Plaza Hotel. He had all, but forgotten the pretty girl that he had met there. The first buds of spring were beginning to bloom and nothing had changed in Jack's life other than the season. He still worked the same job and lived in the same rundown apartment. His limited spare time was only filled with cheap liquor and even cheaper women.

Jack sighed as he found himself, yet again, unceremoniously left outside of a meeting that he had chauffeured his boss to. Although he would never dare express it to anyone, he often found himself frustrated that he was left out of the decision making process, since it was he and Frankie who enforced the decisions that were made. No matter how gruesome or unfair they may be, they were handed to Jack, who had no choice, but to follow them blindly.

As the sun began set, he watched the ash on the end of his cigarette grow longer. He checked his watch and grunted with annoyance as he realized he was going to be spending his entire evening standing outside an ostentatiously large mansion. He wondered about the people who lived inside of it. Who has this kind of money? He was certain that they warmed a church pew every time the doors were open, and called this garish manor a blessing from God, when it was really paid for in blood.

His attention was diverted from his loathing by the sound of a car speeding down the long driveway. Being unsure if it was friend or foe, he lightly placed his hand on the pistol that hung from his side, readying himself for anything. He slowly relaxed as the car came into better view. He could see that it was small, red, grossly expensive, and obviously not a threat. It screeched to a stop in front of the house, and much to his surprise a memory emerged from it.

As she stepped from the car he instantly recognized her as someone he should know, but he couldn't place how he knew her. She certainly wasn't someone he met at a bar. Maybe a girl that Frankie had tried to fix him up with...no, that wasn't it either. He attentively watched her as she straightened her short white and yellow dress and indifferently pushed her curly hair behind one ear. It wasn't until she strutted across the driveway to the front steps with the same arrogance that she had that night walking down a long corridor towards him in the Gotham Plaza Hotel that he realized exactly how he knew her.

She was as beautiful as the first time he had laid eyes. In fact, her effortless appearance made her all the more attractive. He expected her to recognize him, but as she bounced up the stairs past him, she didn't even notice. He felt as if he blended into the brick wall behind him.

"I never caught your name," he spoke quickly, trying to catch her attention before she went through the door.

She stopped for a moment to place his voice. She turned back slowly, slightly smiling with satisfaction as she recognized him. "I knew you couldn't stay away."

"You didn't even see me." He smiled through a hurt expression.

She looked down in embarrassment. "The business my Daddy is in leaves many men, such as yourself, on my doorstep."

He knocked the ashes from his cigarette. "I would imagine that there would be men on your doorstep, no matter what business your daddy was in."

"Are you always this much of a charmer?" she asked, as she flirtatiously took the cigarette from his hand and slid it between her lips.

"N-not as often as I would like to be," he stammered. "You barely look old enough to smoke."

She took the cigarette out of her mouth and held it elegantly between her long fingers. "You'd be shocked by what I am old enough for."

He was taken aback by her confidence. Not, that he had never encountered a forward woman, but she was different. She wasn't looking for someone to spend the night with. She was toying with him, just to see how far she could push. Testing the waters.

She smiled at his discomfort. "Do you like my house? It's far too large for just three people. But, the ocean is just a short walk beyond that tree line. I'm growin' very fond of it. On windy days you can almost hear the waves crash onto the shore."

Her voice was memorizing. Almost musical. He took a deep breath and opened his mouth to speak, but nothing came out. He felt a sudden rush of panic. Here he was in front of the most gorgeous women he had ever seen with his mouth hanging open like an idiot. He fumbled and stuttered for a moment trying in vain to come up with a witty response. Desperately he blurted out the first thing that popped into his mind.

"Were you on a date?" His tone was humiliatingly territorial.

"No…no." She looked down at her feet. "I'm a dancer. I was at ballet practice."

Jack couldn't help, but laugh. "Isn't ballet for little girls?"

Her face reddened with a mixture of frustration and embarrassment. "Little girls grow up. Ballet is one of the main reasons that I didn't come to Gotham kickin' and screamin'." She pushed a few strands of hair away that had fallen into her face. "I will one day dance with the Gotham Ballet Company." She took a few steps towards the door as if she were going to leave him on the doorstep. "Oh, by the way…It's Jeanine."

"Excuse me?"

"You wanted to know my name. It's Jeanine Dupree." She timidly smiled. "But, please don't ever call me that…it's simply awful," she chuckled. "Jeannie isn't much better, but I prefer it."

"John Napier," Jack responded in kind. "But, Jack is better."

Jeannie took a few steps towards him. "So, 'John, but Jack is better, Napier', are we only goin' to meet when you are standin' outside of doors I am about to walk through? Exchange a few flirtatious pleasantries, and then be on our way? "

He smiled as if he were a little boy, about to steal his first kiss. "I hope not."

She leaned against the wall next to him. "Then take me out on a date. I am free tonight."

He rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet as he tried to find a polite way to tell her he was busy. "I wish I could, but I am working."

She raised her eyebrows in surprise. "He can't stay here forever. He has to leave eventually." She moved close enough to him that he could feel the warmth of her breath. "After you drop him off, come back here for me."

"No… I …I." He stumbled over his words, trying to keep the darker aspects of his career a secret. "I always have to work after these kinds of meetings."

Her shoulders slumped as she backed away from him. "What a pity."

"Maybe tomorrow night? I have nothing to do then," he asked eagerly.

"Tomorrow night isn't good for me." She shrugged. "I have another date."

"You juggle men?" His tone was low and accusatory.

Her brow furrowed as she placed her hands against her hips. "No, I don't. But, I was goin' to make an exception for you. Give you a chance."

"Don't bother…I don't need your charity," he scoffed.

"From what I gather, you have an old man in your backseat more than any woman. Someone needs to offer you some charity," she hissed

Jack mumbled beneath his breath as he took another cigarette from his pocket. "So who is the lucky guy?"

A conceited smile crossed her face. "Bruce Wayne. Surely you have you heard of him?"

"Goddamn," Jack spat out with a chuckle. He suddenly felt rather foolish for flirting with this privileged ballerina that lived in a mansion by the sea. "When you become another notch in the boy billionaire's bedpost, let me know. Maybe you will need some charity of your own," he jeered. "I won't be hard to find. I am sure I will be standing on your doorstep again someday."

Jeannie let the remnants of the cigarette she held in her hand drop to the ground as she reached for the front door. "It was very nice to have met you Mr. Napier." She didn't wait for him to answer her as she pulled the door open and quickly left him to himself.

Jack felt as if he were a balloon that had been deflated. That girl was incredulous. Absolutely maddening. He peered through the decorative glass door in time to watch her trot up a large staircase and out of his view.

"And you as well Jeanine."