16. Desperate Measures

Dora found it difficult explaining to Carla what she and Holly meant by "Batman knows and he doesn't like it."

Thoughts and ideas scrambled around Dora's mind.

First, Carla was already aware that Red Hood had saved Dora, Rochelle, and Holly the first night he appeared in Gotham.

Second, Carla was aware that Red Hood had killed all the thugs that trashed the Alibi and tried to steal the cocaine she was running.

Third, Carla knew (or thought) that Red Hood was extorting the Alibi.

And finally, Carla was also aware that Red Hood was the pimp that owned the brothel Holly worked for.

Dora rambled and buried the lede while she figured all that out, but she and Holly eventually managed to convince Carla that the secret Batman knew and didn't like was that Dora had given Red Hood the cocaine she was running in exchange for a break on protection money.

Carla bought it but found it unfair that Batman was mad at them.

"Doesn't Batman understand that if you refused to hand the coke over to Red Hood, he probably would've just taken it anyway?" Carla complained. "And you didn't ask for that break. He just gave it to you, cuz he's cool like that."

Frankly, Dora agreed. All she could say was that Batman didn't see it that way, and they were lucky the police didn't know as well.

For some consolation, it was half the truth. Luckily, Carla remained unaware that Dora had kissed Red Hood and nearly had sex with him. The fewer people knew about their relationship, no matter how fruitless it was, the better—especially her at-risk sister, who she had to set an example for.

#

The next day, while having dinner at Rochelle's apartment, Dora told her about what happened—she was her best friend and sole employee, she had to. Rochelle was just as amazed as Holly and Carla had been, but she was apprehensive as well.

"Dee, Batman's no joke." The girls were making spaghetti for themselves. Ben was still at work.

"You don't think I know that?" Dora put down the cheese grater in frustration.

"No, listen. As much as I ship you two, you might wanna put the brakes on what's going on with you and Red Hood."

Dora scoffed, almost insulted. "What fucking brakes? Whatever's going between us is going nowhere. It barely even started." She still hated when people assumed she and Red Hood were "together" or something. Before their night alone in the cellar, it wasn't true. After that kiss... actually… multiple kisses… and getting undressed… and nearly having sex...

It still wasn't true. Dora finally came to the resolution that no matter how physically attracted she was to Red Hood, she could not be his girlfriend. She couldn't. A relationship made no sense. He was a... vigilante? Not quite. A villain? Not quite that either. Either way, he was an outlaw. The police were constantly looking for him. It could never work.

"You okay?" Rochelle asked, snapping her fingers.

Dora shook her head, trying dispel her rambling thoughts. "Yeah, fine."

Rochelle shrugged, stirring the sauce. "At the very least you gotta be more careful to avoid stuff he's involved in."

"Like what? I'm not—" Then it struck her.

Rochelle gave her a look and nodded.

"You mean Holly?"

"Well, if Batman knows that Red Hood spent time with you, he's gotta know that Holly works for him. The Bat knows everything."

"I'm not going to evict Holly after I just let her move into my building and gave her permission to date my sister. Plus she's my friend."

The sauce began to bubble, so Rochelle lowered the temperature and stirred it. "No, I mean that deal with Holly's boss you're thinking about, about posting working girls in the bar. Batman's not going to like that."

Batman's baritone voice echoed in her head. "This is your warning, Dora Silva. Do not get involved with Red Hood. I'm watching you."

During dinner, Dora mulled it over and eventually decided that Rcohelle was right.

On her way home, she called Holly and canceled her meeting with Ma Gunn. Holly tried to talk her out of it, saying Batman couldn't do anything about it, but Dora set her foot down. She didn't want to risk getting his attention again. She didn't know what it meant, but Batman would probably tell the police about her deal with Red Hood and she was sure that was enough for serious jail time. Every Gothamite knew that Batman was sometimes a consultant for the Commissioner of the police. He practically had a fucking badge.

The Abili reopened on Friday afternoon. Dora scheduled Rochelle to wait tables, Carla to bus dishes, and her mother Anita to bartend. She even hired Ben to cook. Dora filled in wherever was needed.

But as it turned out, she need not have bothered.

The grand re-opening of the Alibi was a complete and utter flop.

Only a sparse crowd showed up opening night, not even near the usual amount of patrons before the shooting. A few old regulars showed up, commented on the new fixtures, but there wasn't much hype to go around.

Due to the disappointing turnout that first Friday night, on Saturday Anita tried advertising a "buy one, get one half-off" special on top of extended happy hour prices... but there was no improvement.

Usually, during the day and evening, the Alibi's usual clientele consisted of the blue-collar crowd. Late at night, after dark, was when the miscreants came through—people that made their living on crime and otherwise illicit nocturnal endeavors.

Not one of those people came in for the opening weekend.

The regulars Dora and Anita knew by name, the guys that had been friends of her parents back in the day, quickly stopped showing up. The Alibi was a veritable ghost town.

Rochelle suggested that Batman had scared them off, but Dora was sure that nobody knew about his visit. Everyone did know, on the other hand, about Red Hood's numerous visits and all the deaths that occurred at the Alibi recently. No wonder they were too scared to go there. The place was "hot"—in the bad sense.

A week went by and the next Friday rolled around with another pitiful turnout and meager revenue to show for it. The bar simply wasn't making enough money to cover its operating costs and pay back the loans Dora had taken out. She would fall behind on her debts and lose the building to the banks.

Desperate, Dora finally relented. Batman could go fuck himself, she had a family to provide for.

She called Holly and told her, "Tell Ma Gunn I want to meet as soon as possible."

#

The Gotham City Subway was a cavernous labyrinth. Rushing trains screeched by, leaving a wake of litter that tumbled across the floor and piled up in corners. Torn ad posters peeled away from shattered displays. Graffiti blazoned the walls. Homeless people loitered by the turnstiles and gates. Some begged, some talked to themselves, others just slept. Cockroaches and rats skittered around underfoot. The few working lights overhead flickered and hummed incessantly, leaving the subway dark and dingy.

People who could afford to avoid the subway often called it a dungeon. Although she resented the privileged people who typically called it that, Dora had to admit they weren't exactly wrong. Having taken the subway all her life, she was used to it, but she was still anxious and fidgety while waiting on the bench. Where is she?

Holly descended the stairs, walking by the camps of the homeless, sharing glances of familiarity with a few of them. She kicked a rat that skittered over to gnaw on her shoe. With a squeak, it tumbled off the platform. Looking around, Holly saw Dora sitting on a bench on the far end of the platform. Before she could walk over, Dora pulled out her phone and jabbed in a text message.

Holly checked her phone, then stopped walking.

"Stay where you are. Don't come over to me," the text said.

Holly looked at the message, baffled. "Y wats wrong?" she replied.

"Did you bring the stuff?" Dora texted back.

"Yah." Holly double-checked inside the plastic shopping bag she was carrying.

"Take the bag, go to the bathroom, and put it in the stall furthest away from the door."

"A dead drop? R u serious?"

"Just do it!"

Rolling her eyes, Holly pocketed her phone and obeyed. When she exited, Dora passed by her as if she were a stranger. Holly looked almost offended.

A minute later, Dora reappeared from the bathroom. Her outfit changed. She was wearing a baggy red hoodie that obscured her figure, a slouchy gray beanie that covered her hair, and large aviator sunglasses that masked her face. She finally acknowledged Holly, saying, "Thanks."

Holly snickered and shook her head. "You look like one of those hipsters from Burnside. You're not fooling anyone."

Dora glared at her from behind the sunglasses. "Fuck off."

Before now, Dora was opposed to wearing a red hoodie or any red clothes, not wanting to publicly appear as if she supported Red Hood and his gang. She did in some ways, but she didn't want a target literally painted on her back. Batman and the GCPD already didn't like that Red Hood favored her for some reason. However, Red Hood was gaining support all over Park Row and the other derelict neighborhoods of Gotham, so people in red hoodies and clothes were a dime a dozen. Wearing red nowadays was actually inconspicuous.

"Why did you want to meet here?" Holly asked. "We could've left together from your building and walked the fifteen blocks to the meeting spot. Heck, we could've taken your rusty old car. Could've saved ourselves time and money."

"Cops are already watching me, and now Batman said he'd be keeping an eye on me too. I'm just trying to break a tail."

"It's the middle of the damn day. The dude thinks he's a fucking bat. He only comes out at night."

Dora checked her phone for the time. "I don't want to risk it. Batman knew way too much about what's going on at the Alibi. You've heard about all the gadgets he uses, right? That grappling gun, those exploding boomerangs, and that fucking transforming car-tank-thing that drives itself. Wouldn't put it past him to have spy drones or something like that. It's like he's sponsored by WayneTech or LexCorp or something."

Holly rolled her eyes and shrugged. "Okay, okay, I see your point." She didn't. Dora could tell she was only humoring her. Was she being too paranoid?

A high-pitched screech and a gust of wind interrupted their conversation. "Our train's here."

The girls only rode the train for one stop and got off. It actually overshot their destination by several blocks, but Dora was fine with that. The less sense her route made, the better.

Ma Gunn wanted to meet somewhere other than the brothel first, to see if Dora was worth trusting with the location. The meeting place was the Crescent Café, a quaint little coffee shop and bakery. Dora knew it well. Her father used to take her there on Sunday mornings while her mother and grandmother went to church, which was a few blocks down the street. Monty was never the religious type and that had rubbed off on Dora. Dora's job at the clinic and her students at Gotham University kept her busy around the clock, so the two would spend those Sunday mornings catching up on her week. Often Monty imparted his own wisdom and advice about whatever she was going through, sometimes sharing his own stories about his younger years growing up in Gotham.

Sometimes, the café was where Monty would meet with his sponsor from Alcoholics Anonymous. His sponsor, Waylon, didn't mind letting Dora sit with them during their conversations.

Dora hadn't been to the Crescent Café since her father died.

Her chest panged just looking at the storefront from across the street. She longed to find her father waiting inside, ready to hear about everything that was going on with her. How would he feel learning that his beloved bar, the one that had been in his family for generations, was about to fold? What would he think of Red Hood? Would he support the deal she was about to make with Ma Gunn?

"Are you alright?" Holly asked, putting a hand on her shoulder.

Dora sniffled and blinked away the wetness in her eyes. "Yeah. Fine." Holly didn't need to know why this place was special.

Inside the café, Dora ordered a decaf mocha latte while Holly tried to order something fancy from Starbucks' menu that the baristas couldn't quite make. In the end, she also got a mocha latte, but with a shot of espresso.

While waiting, the coffee warmed up Dora, making the hoodie and beanie too uncomfortable to wear, so she took them off. If she was being followed or watched, either she had lost the tail or they were still on her. Either way, the disguise didn't matter anymore. It was a stupid idea anyway.

The last thing she took off was the sunglasses. She folded them carefully and hooked them into her collar. The aviator frames were her father's. Why is this such a nostalgic day? She wanted to abandon this whole meeting and find a quiet, private place to cry and scream and punch a wall and hug her pillow.

Holly saw Dora blinking away tears. "What is with you today, Dee? Here, you need this more than I do." She traded her espresso-spiked latte for Dora's decaf.

Dora took a long sip of the hot bitter liquid, trying to let the taste overpower her turbulent emotions.

"Oh, she's here." Holly nudged her elbow. Dora looked at the entrance of the café.

Ma Gunn walked in and she was not what Dora had expected.

Notes

Originally this and the next chapter were one, but it was getting way too long, so I split it up. (I do that a lot, I know. I'm sorry!) Not much else to say about this chapter other than it marks a turning point in the story. From this point on, I'm trying to make Dora a more proactive character. I want her off her ass, pounding the pavement, doing shit and making things happen, instead of reacting to stuff beyond her control. I'm hoping it works out.

Stay tuned for Ma Gunn! I hope you like my portrayal of her!

P.S. There's a small Easter Egg! If you didn't catch it... Waylon, Dora's father's AA sponsor, is a reference to Waylon Jones, a.k.a. Killer Croc. If you didn't already know, Killer Croc is also Roy Harper/Arsenal's AA sponsor too. RIP Roy.

Song Reference: "Desperate Times, Desperate Measures" by Underoath

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