Chapter 10! Interesting things happen!
Edit: Changed the chapter a bit. in the original version, I felt that Slade was OOC when he called Joanna, but posted it anyway. Don't ask me why, I do not know. So, came back and read it again. And decided I hated it. If you really liked the original, send me a PM and I'll get the original scene to you. Left the door scene pretty much as it was because 1. I really like it that way and 2. I can't currently think of anything to really replace it and I like to give you guys as much word count as I can.
June 5, LoS:
"You wanted to see me, sir?" Joanna stood straightbacked in Lord Al Ghul's office. Damn this place was intimidating. Especially the giant desk. She didn't let it show on her face, but it was daunting. Ra's steepled his fingers together in front of him. His expression was unreadable. However, when there was a loud thump just outside the door, his face turned entertained.
"Would you be kind enough to tell your father and your beau to stop fighting for the best place to listen in on our conversation?" Joanna blushed and bit back a smile. The man knew everything. She calmly walked to the door, opening it to the scene of Cam trying push Slade's foot off his chest. Slade had his ear pressed to the space where the door had just been.
"Cam, stop trying, you'll only make a fool of yourself." She said imperiously. She then turned to Slade. "Dad. Please just walk away, alright?" And with that, she slammed the door in his face. She returned to the uncomfortable militaristic bearing. Her tone turned emotionless. "You were saying, sir?"
"Please, sit." She turned from the door. She often heard about so-and-so getting "fired" (which often involved a low caliber slug and the river they were positioned by) and the beginning of the end always began with Ra's asking them to "sit down." At her suspension in motion, Ra's further pressed her to sit. "Please, Miss Wilson, won't you have a seat?" Joanna nearly bit her lip, but remembered her poker face and woodenly walked forward and sat down.
"Thank you sir."
"Very good. First, I would like to congratulate you on your first birthday. You may not remember it, but today last year was when you first woke up." Joanna nodded. She tried not to think of that often. The pile of bodies… the first time she realized what they were, she threw up. She swallowed the little bit of bile rising in her throat. She steadied her voice.
"Thank you sir."
"Second," he pulled a small stack of note cards out of a drawer in the intimadesk (as Joanna had just christened it) and began reading from them. "'You have proven yourself to be more than capable in combat, and shown discipline where others would have most likely failed,' especially in your lessons with Talia. She says you have made a lot of progress. 'Worthy of the role bestowed, blah, blah, blah,'" he flipped through the cards. "Yes, that's it." Joanna was confused. Why did she get the feeling that the "role bestowed" was something she would regret? Ra's saw her expression. "Don't worry, the speech is merely a formality. You will know the real test in a moment." At that, Joanna had to interrupt.
"Test? Forgive me sir, but what are you talking about?" Ra's actually looked surprised.
"Nobody's told you anything?"
"About what?"
"My goodness. I thought you knew. I should explain. I, as the head of the League of Shadows, am ready to move you to the next level of your role here, whatever that may be. That is why I called you here. Before that happens, though, you need to complete a test given to you." Joanna cocked her head to the side.
"This sounds like a Greek myth or something. 'You must defeat the Gorgon sisters to advance!' and all that." Ra's pondered this.
"Yes, I do suppose it does. But that is neither here nor there, I'm afraid. The test is in here," he slid a folder over to her, "for your perusal. You have a month. It's standard League work; they'll take care of transportation and lodging, etc." Joanna started sadly glancing through. Ra's didn't fail to notice when she abruptly stopped. "Is something wrong?"
"It says everyone in the room."
"Yes, indeed it does. What of it?"
"These two just had a baby. Where do newborns sleep? In the same room as their parents. The dossier says to go in at night and kill everyone in the room, and there will be a newborn in the room. I can't do this." She slid the paper back over to Ra's. He looked pensive for a moment.
"I'm afraid I can't change the rules Miss Wilson. This is your job now," Joanna looked away with a conflicted expression on her face, "whether you like it or not." Joanna was silent. "You realize… you realize if you do not accept this job, the League will have to get rid of you." Joanna's head shot up, her eyes panicked. Ra's sighed. "What happened to all that good facial control? It was so good and now…" he sighed exasperatedly again. "I want you to tell your father to teach you poker. I feel you would be very good at it. That will be all." He pushed the folder back to her. She took it, looking disgusted with herself. "Miss Wilson… Joanna. I want you to know that none of us here at the LoS will think any less of you for completing your mission."
Joanna looked at him.
"Be that as it may, sir, my opinion of myself is what I'm truly worried about."
Two weeks later: Berlin, Germany.
Joanna stepped through her window into her hotel room, tears streaming down her cheeks. She had done it. She had hated every minute of it, but she'd done it. She ran across the room to collapse on her bed. She screamed into her pillow. She pulled her hair out. She threw a temper tantrum. After she'd exhausted herself, she went into the adjoining bathroom, intending to take a shower. But as she turned towards the mirror, she found she couldn't stand to look at herself. She ran out to her window, still open, climbing onto the ledge. She looked down at the cars passing two stories below. So simple. No more fighting to try and stay principled. Why exactly did the genomes give her a moral compass? So she could agonize over when she easily snapped someone's neck? Her tears became more intense. The back of her head started to hurt. She leaned forward. Her fingers began to slip from the sides of the window. A thrill came into her fingers. She closed her eyes. She stopped crying. She felt like she was flying. She could have stayed there forever.
But she couldn't. She was jolted back into reality by the ring of her room phone. She walked over to it, assuming it was her father. She didn't want to talk to him. She didn't want to talk to anyone right now. But he would need to hear from her or he would worry, all the way from Australia, where he was currently working.
"Hello?" A voice that was most definitely not Slade's came on the line. It was distorted, like it was being spoken through a filter or something.
"I would suggest you leave your room with all haste. Wouldn't want something to happen to Daddy's Little Girl would we?" The voice turned mocking. "That is, if you have the proper mental capacity for it." Joanna did a quick scan of the room. She didn't hang up. "Ten seconds, pudding pop." She saw a small device in a dark corner. "Five," she left the phone hanging and ran for it. "Four," she ran back across the room. "Three," she jumped to the roof of the building across the street. "Two…" She hit her leg on the side, pulled herself up, and threw the device into the air. "One." Joanna curled into a ball, bracing herself for the shockwave. Instead, she was assailed by little bits of confetti with tiny little "ha"s printed on them. Her heart now going a million and a half miles an hour, she decided to run on rooftops a bit, try to calm down.
It was therapeutic, really, jumping above others and landing on their homes. Her gear was bulky, but she was used to running with it. It was just irritating, bumping against her back and legs. Running also meant her focus was not on her previous actions or their potential consequences or bombs with confetti or terrifying voices or anything. She made her way around the town, passing a few major roads and an old crumbling structure. This she explored thoroughly. Then she was on her way back to her hotel.
As she was taking a breather, she heard a cry from below. Looking down, she found that she was positioned over an alleyway where a woman was being cornered by several men, the ringleader of which had a scar over his eye. Joanna felt at her leg. She still had her knives with her. She felt the familiar but disliked weight of an odd gun she couldn't put a name to on her back. Who would know? The LoS would only know as much as she told them. She found a dark gray hoodie near one of her feet. Yay for stupid German teenagers. She quickly pulled her gun off her back and pulled the hoodie on. The thing smelled like foot. But it would do. She pulled the hood up and closed it the most she could manage and breathe.
She jumped off the roof, landing on a fire escape across the alley. She set her gun on the feeble railing, aiming for the ground near Thug #1's feet. Her landing would have been silent if the grate was steady. But being older than possibly Lord Al Ghul, when she moved on it, it made noises like a very high-pitched cat dying. It hurt her ears. It got the attackers' attention. She started firing at their feet.
"Now back off before I get really angry." They stayed in place. Damn unilingual idiots. She was barely a year and had already started Chinese. They looked about thirty and knew only German. She made a face at them, and started shooting again. She put away the gun when she ran out of ammo and pulled out her knives. "Time to get going." She muttered to herself. She jumped down from her perch, charging. As she passed each man, she cut him shallowly. She worked her way to the woman, turning when she got to her.
"Well, tactically this was stupid," was her only comment when she got there. The ringleader stepped forward, pulling what looked like a whip made of fire from his pocket. "Yup. A really bad idea." She turned to the woman behind her. "If you get a chance, I suggest you run." She turned back to the man. "I really don't want to hurt you. That doesn't mean I won't if I need to. Now walk away. Last chance." She showed more bravado than she felt. Dammit. She wished Slade were there. He might not help, but it would definitely make her feel better. She stood at the ready as he approached, when out of nowhere a bullet plowed through his forehead. He fell, leaving Joanna shocked and the woman behind her on the verge of vomiting. She tried to run out from behind Joanna, but Joanna held her back.
"Stay here, do you want to be next?" She pulled them both to the wall, sticking to the shadows. Stay cool, stay hidden…
"Stay vigilant." The distorted voice called from behind her. She pulled the German woman in front of her.
"Run," she whispered in her ear. The message got across, with the woman taking off down and out of the alley. Joanna started to turn, halting when she felt cold steel press against the neck of the hoodie. She heard the sound of whoever was behind her breathing in something, probably something to change their vocal chords.
"Don't move a muscle." Joanna stayed still. "I'm going put something in the front pocket of your jacket. I want you to keep your eyes on the wall, daddy's girl, and don't look at what I give you until you get back to your hotel room. Understand? Nod yes or no." Joanna was still. The steel cut through the fabric and started moving to her neck. "Come on, you aren't that stupid. Nod. Yes or no." Joanna pondered, deciding she didn't want to die in an alleyway in Germany. She slowly nodded. "Good." A purple-gloved hand reached around and slipped an envelope into her front pocket. "Now get the hell out of here." The blade was gone. Joanna spun around, trying to catch a glimpse of her assailant. There was nothing. Joanna spent the next ten minutes huddled on the roof where she had found the hoodie rocking back and forth, softly calming herself down. When she was ready to head back, she lost the hoodie; the smell was really starting to bother her. She was about to walk away when another bullet hit near her feet, practically undoing all of the fear-control she had just attempted. But she did remember the envelope, and snatched it up before starting her sprint to her room.
Upon her arrival, she found the phone ringing off the hook. She groaned. She was too damn tired for this. But how else to stop it? She picked up the receiver.
"'Ello? This better be good because I am freaking tired and need to sleep. You have one sentence. Make it good."
"Hey kiddo. Just checking up on you."
"Thanks, I'm..." she breathed out. "I'm not alright, but I'm gonna be okay. It's nearly two in the morning here. I'm gonna catch some zzz's. Call you in the morning. Love you Daddy."
"Love you too, precious." She hung up. But contrary to what she told Slade, she pulled the envelope out of a pocket in her pants. It looked plain enough, but her gut said it was more than it seemed. Her palms grew sweaty as she opened it. She pulled out a card with a string of eleven numbers on it. They didn't make any sense, with whatever code she used. Granted, she didn't know many, but they were all high-level. Her tired eyes started to drift shut. She slapped herself. Have to stay awake. She should have left the phone ringing. The phone? A half-formed idea took root in her mind. She picked up the receiver, and dialed the number. It rang for a while, before going to the answering machine somewhere.
"Hi, you've reached Kendra and Mike Shorthal. We're not here right now, but if you leave your name and number we'll get back to you when we can!" Joanna almost dropped the phone. The name was unfamiliar, but the voice… female, about 22, American accent. Scarily similar to... she pushed it out of her mind. She hung up and picked back up and dialed again. Prepared to listen again to the message. Instead, the call was picked up.
"Hello?" a gruff voice answered. Joanna was unsure what to say. She breathed in, decided.
"Hello? I received a card with this number on it." Pause. Voices in the background.
"What is your name?" Joanna had to think a moment before she remembered her cover identity.
"Katherine. Katherine Erikson."
"Where are you?"
"A hotel in Berlin. Listen, are you the owner of this phone?" a faint whooshing noise came through the earpiece.
"No. This number belonged to Kendra Shorthal and her husband Mike. We recently found the bodies of both. Was there anything with the card you received?"
"…No. I didn't find anything."
"My colleagues will be there soon to pick it up." Joanna looked down at herself. Gear. Bloody. Overall distressed looking. She needed to clean up.
"How soon?"
"Twenty minutes." She forced herself calm.
"Okay. I'll see them then. Will that be all?"
"Until they get there, yes."
"Okay. Thank you." She hung up. Dumped her gear in the darkest corner. Ran through the shower at the speed of light. Pulled on her pajamas just before Wonder Woman and Superman came swooping in through the window. Her hair was still wrapped up in a towel. She started listing every expletive she knew in her mind. She had gotten tangled up with the JUSTICE LEAGUE?
And so the plot advances! Any guesses who gave her the number? Why are Kendra and Mike relevant? Is Katherine Erikson the father of Martella's love child? Why am I ending this chapter like a soap opera?