Gotham. December.
Snow pelting down, whiting out all of Gotham in a tidal basin of wind and greyness. The red and blue lights of the GCPD cruiser cut through the dark white; mixing with the red, green, and blue of the lights above the glass canopy of the plaza of Falcone's towering skyscraper. The cruisers had sped and skidded to a halt. Once upon a time ago it would have been Jim Gordon stepping out, yammering into a speaker and asking for his team to make a perimeter. Now it was two young women slipping out in their Kevlar-clad suits; their hair in ponytails, and an impassive look on both their faces. The driver, Stacy, let out a yawn as she shut the car-door.
"Joker?" she asked the other.
"Don't underestimate him, Stacy. He's psychotic and at the end of this rope."
"So is the majority of Arkham Prime and they're all snugged up cozy. Joker'll be in there before the night is out."
Mel looked up only to see the dark, blurry shape that sped through the whiteness. She looked over to her partner and smiled.
"Guess he'd like to take this one personally. Hang back. Make a perimeter, you know the rules," she said as she stretched and cracked her neck. "This'll be quick."
Carmine Falcone's home away from home was a towering pylon of massive proportions. The Bat had already thermal scanned from afar. He slammed in through the window of the twenty-second floor, rolling, and landing into a dilapidated room filled with reports and drawing cabinets. Up above on the top floor was the penthouse that belonged to Falcone. He slid through each floor like a shadow, cracking, breaking, trampling, and incapacitating every goon who'd wandered down from Falcone's abode.
The final goon before he'd entered the penthouse was a scrawny man with a face painted in white and red makeup. Joker. The fear spread on his face as the Bat lifted him up by his throat. "How many inside?"
"Joker's got Falcone tied up. Twelve more," he said, straining to breathe under the crushing weight of Batman's hand. "Please…don't." The left fist went to his temple, shattering through skin, cracking bone. The goon's body went limp and he fell to the floor.
He slid in through the ventilation to the right hallway, passing by cheap antiques and paintings which reminded him of his own place; tacky. Once he'd slipped into the penthouse, he was on the second-floor, crouching and peering through the metal railings to see below.
Falcone was gaunt and looking tired with dried blood down his pajamas. He was tied to a chair, surrounded by six fully automatic rifles trained on him. Behind him was the door to his vault, wide open. From inside it stepped out familiar shape—the purple suit, white skin, and cringe-inducing smile.
"Not much in there but old books and papers, Carmine, my boy. You don't keep cash on you?"
"Digital world, clown. I don't need it."
"You know," said Joker as he slid out the signature revolver with the extra-long barrel, "When we picked you up at the manor, I thought you'd put up more of a fight. Guess I figured wrong. Old age will do that to you I guess."
From the vault stepped another familiar shape. Harley Quinn, in her red and black jumpsuit morphing to her petite form. He watched her stepped out quietly, nursing her eye which looked like she'd been socked hard.
"Harley—the Bat'll be here soon. You know what to do."
"Yes, Mistah J," she said with an air of sadness.
"Toot sweet," snapped the Joker.
"What the fuck are you plannin'? I ain't got no money. You'll pay for this—" The butt of the revolver went across Falcone's cheek, spraying blood and teeth out. "You bas—"
"You're too long in the tooth to be making threats," said Joker and he slammed the butt into Falcone's face again and again as the goon's watched on in horror as there was a muffled cracking of bone.
When the Joker regained his composure he cracked his neck and nodded at his goons. "Drag him into the vault."
Falcone's face was dripping goopy droplets of blood that hung from his chin as two of Joker's goon slid him into the vault. Why was Joker gunning for Falcone? If not for money then he'd surmised it would come down to being a trap for him alone, or maybe two birds with one stone. It didn't matter, he thought as he jumped the railing. This would end easily enough.
He slammed onto the ground. The goon's turned, some in ravenous hunger, some in fear. The Joker fell back as he pushed two of his goons forward. "Looks like we're having Bat for Christmas dinner, boys. Let's fire up the ol' cookerooni."
They all ran forward. A flurry of fists flew out at him but he was too quick, jumping and floating around them. Behind the two goons on the right was Harley but she continued to nurse her eye, not so much in the situation as he'd expected her to be. He waited for the mallet to come flying at him but she waited back with another white-faced goon. It was a barrage of cracking blows towards a row of heads and chests.
He saw the Joker slip into the vault. An echoing gunshot rang out, lighting up the dim room with a flash of yellow. The clown prince sauntered out of the vault with a bright smile on his face and freshly sprayed blood. "Harley," he yelled. "Less pity, more hitty."
"Okay," she said as she ran forward with her mallet raised. There was only three goons left.
"Knock knock," said Harley as she slammed down her mallet, knocking a goon in the head and launching him out of sight. A split second later and she'd swung the mallet back, hitting the goon on Batman's right. He turned away from Harley as he stepped back and poised herself for another attack. He bobbed and weaved Harley as she launched the mallet towards him, swinging lazily. She was telegraphing all her moves. In the darkness of the second floor, the Joker's cackle surrounded him as he saw the wry smile on Harley's face as she kept swinging at him.
"Almost," yelled the Joker as up above there came a laser, aiming towards Batman's chest. He looked down at it, snapped a smoke pellet, and dropped down. The laser didn't move. The remaining goons around him and Harley stumbled into the smoke. He felt the kick knock him back; his hands gripped the edges of the vault door to stem his balance.
"Merry Christmas to me," said the Joker as a gunshot rang out and shot between Batman and whoever stood in front of him.
He felt their hands on his chest, launching him backwards as another gunshot went between the pair of phantom hands. He heard Harley scream out as she flew towards him, smashing into him. She fell on top of him and went limp. Somebody had shoved her in full force. He saw the fear in her eyes seconds before she crashed into him, knocking him backwards onto the ground. The fabric of her suit rubbed against his face as his hands went to her hips, lifting her up.
"Move, Quinn," he yelled with a muffle, realizing too late that her blood had sprayed onto his suit.
The door slammed shut, encasing them in the dim light of the vault. Outside there was the sound of muffled cheers and hollers from the remaining goons. Batman rushed to the door and slammed against it, but it wouldn't budge. He could hear Harley in the darkness, groaning. From the other side he heard tapping, and then the muffled voice came through.
"Helllooooo, Bats. You in there? I gotta say, I didn't think you'd fall for such a simple trap, but well, looks like you've lost your edge."
"Mistah J, I'm stuck in here with the Bat," said Harley weakly.
"Jokerm, Harley's hurt. She needs medical attention—open the door. Now."
"Harley? Now why would you be in there? You're trying to make me jealous aren't you?"
"Open the door," she whispered.
"I can't do that, honey. I'm sorry but you made the mistake of falling in there in the first place. That wasn't part of the plan."
"But—"
"No 'buts', Harley. I might as well let the Bat out if I open it up now."
"Pud—"
"Now you're in here and oh looky lou. Looks like there's only a finite amount of oxygen. I guess your goose—I mean turkey—is cooked. Anywho I've got to get going. I'll see you both on the other side."
A blasting vibration shook through the room. Batman turned over and got to his feet. Inside the room was a small library of books, but as the left side of the room dipped Batman knew exactly what was happening. The vault span as another muffled rumble went off. Somebody was blowing up the building from inside out and the vault was bouncing through the floors like a pinball. The explosions stopped as the vault dropped further. There were deep, heavy vibrations as the room shook violently and then there was a final crashing thud as the contents of the room exploded outwards. Harley rolled over and slid down towards Batman who had stabilized himself.
"It's no use," said Harley. "We're both trapped. He turned this into a big coffin. No gadgets to help you out this time, B-Man," said Harley weakly as her eyelids fluttered.