35. Walk with Me in Hell
"Would you please relax?" Jessie asked, putting down her phone. "We're going to be on the road for at least another hour."
"Sorry," Dora said, loosening her grip on the steering wheel and reclining back into the seat. Her eyes were still keen on the road, scanning for police cruisers. Every passing headlight made her heart skip a beat.
It was well after dark on the highway to Blüdhaven. Dora drove her Chevy Impala, but the Demonz had changed the license plate and wrapped it in red vinyl to disguise it. Her nerves were on edge because she had seen some of Jason's men load the trunk with several duffel bags, one of which she had peeked into and found that it was packed full of cash. She had no idea what was in the other duffels and didn't want to look.
But if this is what it took to become the type of person that was hard enough could kill Black Mask, then so be it.
A large black van followed the Impala, carrying who knew what. Dora wondered if it was the mobile armory Jason had shown her in the warehouse a couple weeks ago. But if they were walking into a gunfight, wouldn't he had told her? Would he have even let her come? Jason didn't tell her what the mission was because he felt she needed an unbiased, un-sugarcoated look at the world she wanted to be a part of.
Whether it was more money they were transporting or something else illicit didn't matter. She was smuggling contraband. She was breaking the law. She was a criminal.
Jason rode ahead of the Impala on his bike, leading a motorcade of Street Demonz, including Reilly. Jessie was riding with Dora because she was doing her job as secretary: logistics. It apparently required her to use two phones at the same time.
Dora shifted in her seat, trying to relax, but couldn't. Maybe she was imagining it, but the leather vest she was wearing was too uncomfortable. It felt too warm—and itchy. "You sure it's okay for me to be wearing this? I just wanted to ride along, not join the club."
Jessie looked at the breast of the vest, where a patch that said "prospect" was sewn on. "Well, this mission is for members only, so there was no other way for you to tag along. Don't worry, it's just for appearances. For the Blüdhaven guys."
"Things still politically hazy?"
Jessie scrunched up her nose and shrugged. "Yes, but they've improved a bit. I don't think anyone is going to question Red's decisions anymore, even if they break tradition. They're willing to consider the Gotham charter an experiment, and see what Red Hood does with it."
"Really?"
"Yeah, I think most of the members and charters now realize that in order to survive, the club needs to evolve. And change doesn't come easy."
Dora looked ahead at the men following Jason. Each had a leather vest with emblem of the Street Demonz, and she knew that some of them, like Alex and Jessie, had the emblem tattooed somewhere on their skin as well. The club was their life. "They really respect him, even though he just showed up on the scene a few months ago?"
"He earned it. All the more impressive because he did it so quickly."
"How exactly?" Dora asked. "Didn't Reilly say he killed the old president? That pissed off a bunch of members, right?"
"Yeah… it did." Jessie blew a heavy breath. "Not just in Gotham, but also in Blüdhaven and Metropolis. And I know you're worried about a mutiny, so let me explain. And pay attention, cuz when Reilly explained it all to me, it was confusing. Hopefully I do a better job."
She shifted in her seat to face Dora. "The former—or late, I guess—president was named Flint. And he was an asshole. Which is really saying something because being an asshole is sort of a prerequisite for joining this club. A good portion of the men were already set to mutiny against Flint even before Red Hood came along and took care of the issue for them."
"What about the vice president?" Dora asked. "Did Red Hood kill him too?"
"The short answer is no, but it's complicated."
"Complicated how?"
Jessie scoffed. "The VP at the time, Gates, was happy to see Flint go because Flint cowed to Black Mask during and after the gang war. That's something Gates and a ton of other members believed to be fundamentally against the club's bylaws."
"Wait, that doesn't make sense. Don't the Demonz have essentially the same relationship with Red Hood?"
Jessie shook her head. "The club's charter says we can work with other gangs, not for them. Under Black Mask and the False Face Society, the Street Demonz were just enforcers. Muscle. Disposable fodder on the frontlines between the cops and other gangs. With Red Hood, we're equal partners with the rest of the gangs loyal to him."
The logical blocks fell into place. "You're saying the Red Hood Gang isn't really a gang… it's a syndicate."
Jessie snapped her fingers. "Exactly. More of a syndicate than the cops and media claim the False Face Society is."
Scrunching her nose, Dora said, "Still doesn't make sense to me how letting Red take over doesn't break the club's rules."
"Yeah, you have a point," Jessie conceded. "After Red killed Flint, most guys wanted Gates to be the new president as a matter of course, but Gates and Red made a deal. If Red Hood could help them take out the LoBoys, using his resources to settle the beef with minimal casualties to the Demonz, he could have the Sergeant's patch. Third-in-command, in charge of planning and preparing for combat and hits. Basically wetwork. Red Hood would not lead the club but have influence."
"The LoBoys are the Demonz' rivals right?" She remembered their skirmishes during the gang war being the bloodiest.
Jessie scoffed. "Were. Not anymore."
"What do you mean?"
"Red Hood killed them." Jessie looked ahead at Jason riding his motorcycle, leading a pack of bikers. "He killed them all." She rolled her shoulders, uncomfortable. "By himself."
Dora swallowed, trying not to be shaken by the grave look on Jessie's face. She was still getting used to the idea that Jason could do such things.
"Yeah, delivered on his end of the deal and then some. Even still, it wasn't a clean transition," Jessie continued. "Some of old President Flint's supporters quit the club and became False Facers, or left to join the Bludhaven and Metropolis charters, so our charter lost numbers."
"But now Red is president and Reilly is vice president, so what happened to Gates?" Dora asked.
Jessie sighed. "False Facers killed him and his VP Billy. Same dudes that supported Flint and used to be Demonz. Part of the reason why most of the guys left in the club have no problem following Red Hood is that he's leading them to revenge and redemption. Without, this charter would've disbanded by now. Not to mention that with Red as our leader, we're at the top of the food chain in his syndicate. Also doesn't hurt that he's a frothing badass. Did you see that video of him going toe-to-toe with Batman and Nightwing?"
"Yeah, it was on the news for a few days. It was pretty cool."
"Pretty cool?" Jessie looked at her, incredulous. "It was fucking awesome! Who can do that? Every other crime boss in Gotham has had their ass handed to them multiple times by the Bat Crew, but Red Hood just shrugs the Bats off. He almost killed him!"
In truth, it worried Dora that Jason was on Batman's bad side. As scary as Batman was, she felt like he had the city and its people's best interest at heart. If only he and Red Hood could work together.
She lingered on that thought a moment while another surfaced. "That whole power vacuum led to you becoming secretary?"
Jessie gathered her breath and collected her thoughts. "Yes and no." She looked at Dora until she took her eyes off the road and returned her gaze. "I have to give you credit, Dee. I wouldn't be here today without you."
Embarrassed, Dora smiled and broke eye contact. "What do you mean?"
"If I hadn't gone with you to the clubhouse, I wouldn't have met Reilly, and he wouldn't have vouched for me to Red Hood."
Dora shrugged. "Red knew who you were before I came along. Because of Ma Gunn."
"He knew me as a bartender, but he didn't know me as a biker. He didn't know my history with the club. Without you, I wouldn't have gotten a chance to prove myself to him." The tears in her eyes were not quite falling. "Thank you."
After watching Jessie over the last few weeks, and especially last night, it was easy for Dora to understand that Jessie was truly in her element in the club. She tried to take some pride in being a part of that. "You're welcome, I guess."
"You changed my life. I owe you," Jessie said, wiping away her tears before they came loose. "By the way, I call dibs on your kids."
"Kids?" Dora blinked. "I'm sorry, what?"
"You and Red's kids, once you have them," Jessie laughed. "I'll be their godmother."
That brought images to her mind that Dora didn't want to think about yet. "Speaking of godmothers, how does Ma Gunn feel about you leaving the Vermilion?"
Jessie shrugged. "To be honest, she's not happy I quit. She offered to double my pay."
Dora tried to keep her eyes on the road while gawking at Jessie. "Double?"
"Yeah, but this is where I want to be. No amount of money can change that." Jessie lit a cigarette and rolled down the window slightly. "Look, I had a pretty tough time growing up, for tons of reasons, long story." She took a long drag from the cigarette and blew the smoke out the crevice in the window. "The club saved me. Two out of three guys in the club aren't pure assholes, just dudes trying to play the bad hand they were dealt. But of course, I had to fall for the third guy: Alex. But despite him, the club was my family, the supportive family I wish I had growing up. And okay, this family isn't perfect. I gave everything I had to them in my twenties, and they didn't return the favor until it was almost too late… But, Dora." Jessie looked at her earnestly. "When Red Hood presented me with an impossible chance, the chance to achieve one of my wildest dreams? I had to take it. I may never get another shot."
Once again, Dora saw a glimmer in Jessie's eyes that she had been seeing all over Gotham.
It was hope.
And as much as she didn't want to admit it, she saw that glimmer in the mirror every morning nowadays.
Jessie flicked some ash off her cigarette. "Sunglasses or not, I see the way he looks at you, Dee. I can tell he doesn't want to do this forever. He wants a happily ever after and it isn't with the club. It's with you."
Dora's breath hitched. Maybe it wasn't wishful thinking if someone else thought the same thing.
Jessie pointed at Jason leading the pack of bikers, as if she was aiming a gun. "Bet your bottom dollar that when he finally steps down, I'll take his place." She turned to Dora. "I'm going to be the first female president of a Street Demonz charter. Or die trying."
Dora sincerely hoped she would succeed.
#
About two and a half hours after leaving Gotham, the Street Demonz arrived in Blüdhaven. On a clear day, Dora could see Blüdhaven across the bay from the Gotham's eastern shore. The cities were similar to each other, sisters in a way. Both were tightly packed urban sprawls that casted jagged skylines. But whereas Gotham's huge buildings tended to be tall in various shades of black and gray, Blüdhaven's large buildings were stocky with hues of red and brown, hence the city's namesake.
Blüdhaven was a peninsula and it's waterfront was like Gotham's, with the city being built right to the edge of the water. It was a port of call, with marinas and piers dominating the eastern coast, and commercial and residential waterfront properties on the western coast. Jason led the motorcade through the maze that was Blüdhaven's harbor district, stopping only to pay off a security guard, and finally arriving in a container yard. Shipping containers stacked eight high loomed over them on one side, a huge ship on the other. The expansive black void of the Atlantic Ocean yawned behind it.
"We're here," Jessie said, releasing her seatbelt.
The bikers kicked out their stands and dismounted as Jason walked back to the Impala. At some point during the trip, he had put on the small red mask that hid his eyes. His glowing white gaze passed over Dora and Jessie as he strode past them to the Impala's trunk.
Jessie shuddered in her seat. "Whoa. Gives you the heeby-jeebies looking at him with that mask on, huh? But kinda in a good way, you know?"
"Like, he's scary as fuck, but you're glad he's on your side?" Dora offered.
"Yeah, exactly," Jessie replied then busied herself by tapping and swiping on her two phones.
Reappearing a couple minutes later, Jason knocked on Dora's window.
She rolled it down, and when she looked up, her lungs froze for a split second. She had gotten very close and personal with Jason over the last couple weeks, but it had been quite a while since she had seen him wear all his gear. The fatigues, flak jacket, and holsters—and the eponymous "red hood." The effect of the little mask paled in comparison to the full red helmet.
"You okay?" he asked, his voice slightly modulated by the helmet.
Dora swallowed the lump in her throat. "Yeah."
"Just to be safe, put this on. We're on friendly terms with the people we're meeting, but I still don't trust them. I prefer they don't know who you are." He handed her a mask.
She recognized it as one of the alternate masks he kept in his gear locker. It looked like a streamlined paintball mask, with a vented red plate to protect the nose and mouth, and a sleek black visor to cover the eyes.
She pulled her hair into a ponytail and put it on. The straps immediately tightened themselves, clasping the back of her head. She jumped in surprise, then a second time when a heads-up display booted up on the visor. Green chevrons blinked on over the heads of the bikers ahead, following them even as they broke line of sight. She turned to face Jason and a blue marker appeared next to his masked face, labeling him "RH-PRIME."
"Whoa, is this a Saiyan scouter or something?" Dora asked, rubber necking around. The ship in front of them was apparently named the Navabi and the Impala was down to a half tank of gas.
Jason chuckled. "It's a prototype augmented reality heads-up display I've been tinkering with. Don't lose it." He lingered for a moment, caressing the back of her neck. "Stay safe." He pulled up her hoodie and walked off.
Jessie whistled a note, impressed. "You kinda look like a vigilante now, Dee."
"You think so?" Dora asked. The HUD's facial recognition highlighted her in green, and told her that Jessie's middle name was Rachel, she had outstanding warrants for larceny and solicitation, and was carrying a Beretta 92.
"You need a name." Jessie tapped her chin. "Not Red Hood, but… I think… hmm… 'Red Veil' has a nice feminist ring to it." She then hopped out of the car and joined the rest of the bikers ahead.
Dora grabbed the rearview mirror and looked at herself. With the mask, pulled-up hood, and leather vest, she did look like a sort of… dare she say it, sidekick of Red Hood. It felt kind of bad ass and empowering.
Red Veil, huh?
Reclining back in her seat, Dora watched Jason, Jessie, and Reilly hail a small fleet of black vans as they arrived at the dock. As the drivers exited the vehicles, the HUD labeled them as Street Demonz of the Blüdhaven charter.
Radio static fizzed in Dora's ear, followed by people's voices. It took a moment to figure out that she was connected to the microphone in Jason's helmet.
"Why does this bitch have a better patch than I do?" asked a Blüdhaven biker, pointing at Jessie.
She bowed her head and let out an exasperated laugh—then punched the guy. He fell flat on his ass, stunned. "Because I earned it."
The man stumbled onto his feet. "Cunt," he spat, and Jessie added a kick to the groin that folded him back to the ground.
"Call me cunt one more time, I dare you."
As a pair of his Blüdhaven brothers helped the jerk back into the van, another was laughing. The HUD labeled the laughing man as the Blüdhaven charter's sergeant. The man held out his hand. "Glad to see you still have some fight in you after last night."
"There's plenty more to go around. Try me," she said, taking his hand and giving it a stiff shake.
The Gotham and Blüdhaven Demonz exchanged pleasantries and shot the shit for the next few minutes but none of the conversations hinted at what was on the night's agenda. Jason was silent and brooding, arms folded while he scanned their surroundings.
Something beeped in Dora's right ear and the right side of the HUD flashed red. A caravan of black SUVs rolled into the yard. Simultaneously, a group of men disembarked from the ship using a ramp. Most of the newcomers had dusky skin, dark eyes, and dark hair—they looked Middle Eastern. They gathered around one particular SUV as a tall handsome man wearing a turtleneck, cargo pants, combat boots, and a glittering gold chain exited. He was followed by a well-dressed but nervous looking young woman wearing a hijab. The visor scanned them all, highlighting the men in yellow and telling Dora they were all armed with Jericho 941s and AK-47s. The man in the turtleneck was highlighted in red and labeled Aram Mehrad. A quickly scrolling profile told Dora he was a Quraci mercenary wanted for a long list of international crimes, but paramount was arms trafficking.
Mehrad approached Jason and Reilly jovially, arms spread. "Greetings, Mr. Hood. I trust your trip was a safe one? Did the harbormaster give you any trouble?"
"No trouble," Jason said, shaking his hand. "No harassment from the Coast Guard, then?"
The Quracki man chuckled and started speaking in a language Dora didn't understand, and to her surprise both Jason and Reilly replied in kind. A waveform appeared on the HUD and it read "analyzing…"
Mehrad then gestured at Jessie, saying something that caused his men to laugh.
"What did he say?" Jessie took a step forward, her fists balled.
Reilly placed a hand on her shoulder. "Relax, we'll handle this." He said a few words in the Qurackis' language.
Jason offered up a few more words, pointing at the car Dora was sitting in and the vans the Street Demonz had brought. Mehrad's gaze paused on Dora, taking note of her mask. He said something and the HUD finally labeled the language as Arabic, like she had assumed. Dora wondered if it could translate, but she had no idea how to control anything the mask did and didn't want to turn her attention away to figure it out.
"Jess, get the money," Jason said.
Jessie obeyed, jogging to the Impala's trunk, and retrieving a duffel bag. She gave Dora nervous glance as she walked back to Jason and Mehrad.
As soon as the bag was dropped at Mehrad's feet, he had a man open it and verify that it was real and all accounted for.
Looking satisfied, Mehrad turned to the ship, pulled out a flip-phone, dialed, spoke a few words, then hung up.
Mechanical whirring and clanking reverberated throughout the air. A pair of gantry cranes by the ship picked up two rusting containers off the deck and placed them on the dock.
More shouts and gestures came from Mehrad, and his men gathered around the containers. A few stood back while their friends undid the locks and latches.
As they opened the doors, the thugs yelled threatening orders inside.
The container doors fully opened, and Dora gasped in utter disgust.
Mehrad didn't just have his hands in trafficking weapons.
People shuffled out of the container, looking dirty, ragged, and frightened. At least a dozen men and women, young and old, walked out. They were dressed in threadbare clothing, either wearing sandals or completely barefoot. They huddled close, clinging to each other for safety as Mehrad's men herded them towards the black vans the Street Demonz had brought. Some could barely walk.
Dora couldn't believe it. Out of every illicit criminal enterprise Jason could be a part of, he was in bed with human traffickers? It didn't get any worse than that. It was wrong on so many levels. What could he possibly want with these people? He was dealing in what basically amounted to modern slavery.
Then Dora's heart absolutely shattered.
One of the traffickers pulled a small child out of the container. The little girl was screaming, trying to wrestle herself out of the thug's grasp, but she was clearly too weak to do so. She was utterly terrified.
Something snapped in Dora. Without thinking, she jumped out of the car, ran across the yard and to the container. Reilly tried to stop her, but she shrugged him off. A thug drew his gun on her, but she didn't stop until she had reached the little girl.
"Give her to me," Dora demanded.
The trafficker backed away, looking at Dora uncertainly.
This close, she could see that his grip on the struggling girl's arm was hurting her.
"I said give me the girl!" Dora yelled, reaching for her.
Suddenly everyone was shouting, and a dozen guns were drawn.
Reilly shouted the loudest, placing himself between Dora and all the barrels. "Hold your fire! The last thing we want is the cops or Nightwing on our asses because of gunfire!" Arms raised and spread, he turned his attention to Mehrad himself and spoke Arabic in a steady even tone.
Contemplating a moment, Mehrad gestured an affirmative nonchalantly, and his thugs lowered their weapons. The man handed the girl off to Dora.
Upon seeing Dora's mask up close, the girl screamed again, struggling more than she ever did with the man that pulled her out of the container.
Dora desperately shot a glance at Jason, who was standing as stiff as a statue, watching the scene. "Sorry," she whispered, hoping he heard it through the radio. "Reilly, tell her it's okay."
She pulled up the mask, revealing tears in her own eyes. Reilly mumbled a few words to the little girl in Arabic. Her big brown eyes bulged, and she cried even more, but this time she buried her face in Dora's shoulder, wrapping her arms and legs around her in a full body hug. Dora rubbed her back, cooing and shushing and rocking her. She must have been four or five years old. Dora felt like her heart was bleeding. She couldn't stop thinking about Mercy, and how her worst nightmare would be for this to happen to her.
Mehrad ordered his men to open the other container. Another group of ragged people exited and were herded towards the Demonz' vans.
Container after container was unloaded from the ship. At least fifty people were transferred from the traffickers to the Demonz. Dora had no idea what Jason's intentions were with the people he had seemingly bought from Mehrad, but she suspected he would use them to cut and package his drugs, or assemble the guns the club smuggled. She also knew the Middle East sourced a lot of the heroin trade in the United States. Even so, that was slave labor, and she hoped she could talk him out of it. She was starting to realize that until now, she had only seen the tip of the iceberg of Jason's criminal network.
The last container looked the worst for wear, so rusted it had holes in it. Dora wondered if these people had access to tetanus vaccines where they came from, then doubted it. An anxious looking couple broke off from the group leaving the container, resisting being herded to the vans. They tried to get the attention of Mehrad's thugs, pleading desperately.
Jason stepped in before the thug they were clinging to got angry enough to hit them. He exchanged words with the couple, made an acquiescent gesture, and led them away from Mehrad's thugs.
Once the woman saw Dora holding the little girl, she wailed and ran over. The girl heard the woman's voice and immediately started crying a word that could only have meant "mommy."
"Oh, thank god," Dora said, handing the girl off as carefully as she could, trying to show the woman that she had not taken the girl and was just trying to keep her safe. The father finally limped over and embraced his family. They were all crying. Dora's heart warmed in relief.
"Put the mask back on, now." Jason ordered in Spanish. "Don't take it off again."
She obeyed, surprised that Jason knew Spanish, but also anxious that he had to use it. They obviously had stepped into a delicate situation with implications she was not fully aware of.
Jason pointed at the vans. "Take them to the van. Go now."
"What are you going to do?" Dora asked.
"Get ready for a fight."
Dora heard that order both from Jason and from the earpiece in her mask. All the Gotham Demonz turned their attention to him, nodding discretely. He had given that order to everyone.
As Dora led the family to a van and helped them inside, Jason strode over to the thug that had pulled the little girl out of the container. He growled something in Arabic. The man simply shrugged. Jason yelled back at him, and the man offered a few more words.
Jason glared at Mehrad, who sent back a sneer and a shrug. Scoffing, Jason turned to some of the Demonz. "Grab him!"
Without hesitation, a pair of bikers overpowered and grappled the man.
Mehrad's men raised their weapons again. Jason shouted in Arabic, and so did Mehrad. The traffickers held their fire.
"On his knees," Jason ordered.
The Demonz forced the man onto the ground.
Jason growled something at the restrained man, who answered in an anxious voice. Leaning down, Jason whispered into his ear. Suddenly, the man was jabbering, pleading, and crying.
Mehrad screamed in anger, and his men cocked their weapons.
POW!
Jason had drawn his gun and shot the kneeling man in the head.
Then, thunder crashed.
Lightning flashed.
A bullet storm struck the shipyard. The sound of guns firing and rounds ricocheting was deafening. Dora had no idea where it was all coming from.
The world spun and the axis was beneath her feet.
Something stabbed her in the chest and knocked the wind out of her lungs. Darkness flooded her senses and she fell.
Notes
Here we go! Dora is finally on the battlefield, a soldier in Jason's war! The next chapter is ACTION-PACKED. Get ready.
But okay, I know you must have questions about the mask Jason gave Dora. I want you to imagine it's an early version of the mask Jason is currently wearing the comics right now. In my headcanon, Jason had the Outlaw mask in the works for a while, gave it to Dora to test out here, and when he fell out with Bruce and lost Bizarro and Artemis in RHATO #25-27, he just took the design off the drawing board and put it to use. (By the way, if you like real Red Hood masks/helmets, check out darkknightfx on Instagram.)
As for the name Red Veil… A veil is basically a feminine version of a hood, isn't it? The name is also inspired by a band I love called Veil of Maya, who have an entire fandom concept album called "Matriarch" about empowering female characters. More inspiration came from the Earth-27 Project in which Jason's successor as Red Hood is Roy's daughter Lian Harper. I just love the idea of a female Red Hood, don't you? Why aren't there more genderbent Red Hood fanfics? Now... I'm not saying Dora is going to become a vigilante like Jason or join the Bat Family... but I'm not saying she won't do any of that either.
Speaking of Roy… For those of you that caught the Easter egg in the last chapter… Yes, the Roy that Dora dated in her past is in fact Roy Harper, aka Arsenal (aka Speedy, aka Red Arrow). In RHATO, Waylon Jones, aka Killer Croc, is Roy's 12-steps sponsor. In my headcanon, Dora and Roy dated while she was in college, and he was taking a break from vigilantism and focusing on his recovery… which ultimately failed, obvs. Sound off in the comments if you want to see a oneshot of that doomed romance.
Song Reference: "Walk with Me in Hell" by Lamb of God.
UPDATE 06/14/22: Instead of making you all deal with my bad translations of Spanish, I just decided to narrate that people are speaking the language and show it with italics. I did it for Ukrainian and Arabic, why not Spanish?
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