She'd overslept by the time the "fun" began. Her dreams had been restless, none of which she could recall now, but each forcing her to break out into cold sweats. He'd even managed worm his way into her subconscious, which was one of the few escapes she had from reality. He was not welcome but was much too potent a force to kick out. Gods, she could not wait until Agatha returned. He'd wiggled his way so deeply in; she was desperate for anything to extract him out.
Her phone was brimming with texts. Bruce, Wesley, and a short sentence from Aesop. Each centered around the same advice: stay inside if you can; if you go out, be very careful.
She flipped on the news at just a little past ten, desperate to know what sort of chaos Joker had unleashed upon Gotham.
Apparently a little before nine o'clock he'd broadcasted a video that was still circulating amidst every major news channel.
As per usual, his hands were shaky as he spoke into the camera, lapping at his scars every few minutes.
"Whyyy goooood morning Gotham! How about a little game to start off this wonderful Tuesday?"
He nodded to himself as if it were all the confirmation he needed. His make-up had been meticulously re-applied. Behind him was a brick wall that did little to specify his location.
"Living in the city has ah- its limitations unfortunately. Namely, hunting. Nothing like a good, heart-pumping hunt t'a ree-lease all aggressions."
He glanced off camera briefly before bringing his face closer to the frame.
"And I got just the purrrrfect idea!" He beamed as if he'd struck the lottery. "We, Gotham's modest citizens, have been duped. Cheated. Bamboozled. Taken ad-vantage of by leaders sworn to better our luuu-vely city. Whom do I speak of? Glad ya asked! Their names are Councilman James Silverra, Councilman Harry Millburn, and Councilman Pete Buck. Which rhymes with-well, ya don't need me to tell ya."
He chortled at his own joke.
"We, as citizens, need t'a hold these elected officials responsible. What kinda city would we be if we let them flaun-t and gallivate without cons-eh-quence?"
He sucked in one of his scars, tongue dabbing up any loose saliva.
"Soooo…I ah figure it's time we put our City Council to the test. Do what we uh elected them to do."
He leaned back so the brick wall was visible once more.
"Forty-seven of your less corruptible councilmen and women woke this morning t'a a surprise on their front door. A ah little present from yours truly." He gestured at himself dramatically before bowing. "Revolver for theee ladies, shotgun for the gentlemen. They uh…they're gonna do a little citywide clean-up. Forty-eight hours. Two full days. Within this time frame, I expect Councilman Silverra, Millburn, and Fu-I mean Buck t'a face proper justice from their fellow constituents. Only way t'a face justice is t'a-."
He aimed one of his hands – which was mimicking a gun – at a target off screen. A disembodied whimper sounded.
"-bang bang bang bang! Weed the rotten from the bunch."
He shook his head, hair nearly obscuring his face from view before returning his focus forward.
"For once I am on your side Gotham. Only with the deaths of Silverra, Millburn, and F-Buck can we again prosp-per as a city."
He was moving to a corner of the room.
"If our lovely constituents don't ah deliver on what the people so desperately need, I'm afraid their kiddos are gonna be the ones t'a face the cons-eh-quences."
He panned over to a large group of bound and gagged persons clad in school uniforms, all huddled into a corner of the room, some actively sobbing. Their age range was anywhere from six to seventeen.
"The future of Gotham depends on ya to do the right thing," he spoke into the camera. "The citizens of Gotham depend on ya to do the right thing. So uh…get on your mark. Get se-t…happy hunting!"
The video went static. A news anchor was soon back on air.
"To those just tuning in," the anchor relayed, "Joker has issued an ultimatum to forty-seven of the elected members of the City Council. Councilman Silverra, Millburn, and Buck are to be found and executed. If Joker's demand is not met-."
Celine turned off the news before they could think of a suitable way to convey the worst-case scenario.
"Christ," she whispered into the room, slinging her head back. "Christ, Christ, Christ."
There was no doubt in her mind the three councilmen responsible for abusing their positions would be hunted. No doubt. The other councilmen and councilwomen's children's lives were at stake. No years of professional acquaintanceship would cancel that out.
She wondered if Bruce or the police were currently housing the three. She wondered how on Earth the three men and the children could live without one suffering a grisly death. She wondered whose side the citizens were on. Because pained as she was to admit it, this time around Joker's game didn't involve the senseless deaths of innocents. His targets were persons who had intentionally deceived the general public by caving into their own hedonistic urges. Did they deserve to die? No. Did they deserve to face some sort of retribution for their action? Yes. But because no one else had the courage to hold them accountable, Joker decided to be the one to set that retribution in motion. She suspected this time around he wasn't as much a villain in the public's eye as he'd been times prior.
Do I wait this out then? Write a little more and pretend there aren't three city councilmen being hunted by their fellow co-workers with revolves and shotguns like some Medieval witch hunt?
She flipped the news back on, only to wish she hadn't.
"Councilman Pete Buck was shot point-blank in the back of the head by Councilwoman Elaine Boone not a full ten minutes ago as he attempted to slip out the back of the Belmark Hotel and into his sedan. The driver was also killed. Councilwoman Boone has been arrested. We strongly caution against going out unless it is absolutely necessary. All schools have been closed. I'm…I'm being informed the city council members are being joined in their hunt by other gun carrying citizens who claim they just want the children returned safe and sound. The location of Councilmembers Silverra and Millburn are at this time unknown."
She lowered the volume until it was a faint mumble.
Begrudgingly, she had to admit, Joker had outdone himself.
Now that the average citizen knew they were spared, they'd tune in to watch the hunt go down, or even take to participating in it. One of the symbols of unity and prosperity – City Council – had imploded and was scurrying about to Joker's tune. He had their children. He could make them do his bidding for as long as he wished. They were lucky it was only the shamed councilmembers deaths he wanted.
How do I feel about this?
It's a question she often asked herself when her feelings became ambiguous on an ethical issue. Unsurprisingly, she asked this often in the tenure of her friendship with John.
Unable to be denied was the bottom line- Joker's actions made sense. Had she not been just as disgusted upon learning what Gotham's public funds were being spent on? Did she not wish, however brief, for some sort of hammer of justice to come barreling down upon them?
Yes, I won't deny that. But…not like this. They deserve to be impeached from their positions, lose all pay, stripped of all titles, be back to lowly citizens. Not…hunted for sport by their former councilmembers, who themselves are losing touch of their humanity and sense of mercy the longer their children are withheld from them. Who is running City Council right now? Is the building empty save for the janitorial staff? Does Gotham even realize how easily Joker stirred up anarchy just within a couple of hours? What sort of barbaric frenzy he'd whipped people into?
She guessed not. Emotions were running high. Everyone was too intoxicated by their own to think clearly.
Think first, then do. It was as Bruce had said…eventually, Joker would be subdued.
The children were the key. Find the children, reverse the werewolf effect. Find the children before Gotham found Councilman Silverra and Councilman Millburn.
Right. Easy. Now…where to look?
After a half hour of contemplation, she realized she would need assistance. She knew how to code and program, but not how to hack and navigate public and private camera footage. There was only one person she knew well who did.
"Taj?"
He sounded as if he'd just woken up.
"Mmm…something wrong with the app? Did it crash again?"
"No, nothing like that." She had her laptop resting in her lap in the living room. "You been keeping up with today's news?"
"Uhh…Joker-something-yadda-yadda. Same shit, different day."
"He's got hostages. The city councilmembers children. I was hoping you could help me find them."
He was quiet on the phone for so long she thought he'd hung up.
"Taj?"
"Um…not that it's my place to tell you how to live your life, but are you sure you want to get involved? You were kidnapped yourself just a month ago. Really want to get back on his radar so quickly?"
"He's turning our city's leaders into murderous hounds who shoot first ask questions later. It's a matter of choosing your battles…this is one of them."
"Can't let Batman or GPD handle it?"
"They're too busy making sure the city doesn't descend into chaos. There are armed civilians marching the streets. If they don't stifle it there's going to be martial law declared by tomorrow."
His sigh was grave.
"What do you want me to do?"
She scrolled through the article she'd been reading of all that had transpired since Joker's video began circulating the press.
"The kids were all kidnapped between the time they were dropped off for school and the time first classes began. Almost all of them attended Ludgate's Private Academy. They had a school-wide field trip today to Gotham Zoo. Out of the six buses that were boarded, one is missing. Any chance you can pull footage from nearby cameras between say seven-thirty and eight-thirty? Give me a rough idea of what direction they were heading and follow as many street cameras as you can before they disappeared?"
"Sure, hang on a sec."
As he worked, she pulled up a map of Gotham City.
Ludgate's Private Academy was located in a wealthier residential area in the west of the city. It was home to one of two private academies in Gotham, generally reserved for students from upper middle class to high class families. She was surprised no villain ever thought to target one of these institutes sooner. Granted, these academies had excellent security. But if there was any way to have Gotham's elite dangling in the palm of your hand, it was to lay siege to one of these places.
The background of Joker's video did little to narrow down his location. She had his footage minimized on a separate screen, muting the video and studying what was behind him. The brick looked faded and worn; like it'd seen better days. Certainly not a place that had been touched by renovation anytime recently. The lights bathing the kids was artificial, not natural. Most likely the windows were boarded up, though she couldn't be sure.
"Celine?"
"Roger."
"Roger? It's Taj."
"No, I mean roger as in roger, I'm here." She chuckled a little. "Makes it sound more professional and…spy-ish."
He sounded amused.
"Are we going to have codenames?"
"Sure, what do you want yours to be?"
"Hmm…Viper One sounds good to me. What's yours?"
She bit her lip.
"Zeeeesty-ah Meatball," she elongated, giving all Italians a bad name with her accent.
"Please don't make me repeat it like that, Zesty Meatball."
"Roger, Viper One."
She could hear his fingertips clacking over his keyboard.
"So, I followed the missing bus for about ten miles before they entered the Narrows. They must have had an electromagnetic receiver. Most of the exterior cameras they passed, glitched just a little…blink and you'll miss it sort of thing. Can't say which direction they went afterward. They shot out one of the last street view cameras at an intersection."
She was quiet for a moment, left thigh bouncing a little.
"It's like following breadcrumbs then, right?" She magnified the map to focus on the eastern edge of the Narrows. "They only tampered with the cameras that could possibly glimpse them. It's gotta follow a specific trail, doesn't it?"
"Sounds about right."
"In the last couple of hours, could you tell me what cameras in the Narrows also glitched out? Or at least slim it down to a radius?"
"Making me work for it, eh?"
"Think of it as unofficial police assistance. You're serving Gotham and Batman."
He grumbled something unintelligible.
"Looks like they wove for a while through side streets near the poverty line."
The poverty line was an invisible line in the southeastern half of the Narrows. It ran perpendicular to a major freeway. The Narrows in general weren't somewhere you wanted to be wandering at night, but in the premises of the poverty line was exceedingly dangerous. Gangs roamed this area, searching for either recruitments, drug mules, or to get the residents hooked on pre-cut opium. Buses that entered the area all had bullet-proof windows installed due to the frequent drive-bys. Not even the bravest police officer would be caught there without at least a few cruisers for reinforcement.
She wondered if the police had realized yet this was the area Joker was keeping the children. Intentional, she thought. Take some of Gotham's most privileged, put them in the seediest, most dangerous neighborhood the city had to offer, and she couldn't imagine many of them were willing to escape. Worse would be done to them on the streets than under Joker's captivity.
"Did they deviate from the poverty line at all?"
"Tough to say. Once you get to the projects, a lot of the businesses are either closed or too financially strapped to afford good surveillance. But it is where the last of the glitching happened."
She was silent for a long while, thumb tapping against her laptop.
"Zesty Meatball," Taj spoke, "please tell me you're not going to do something stupid."
"I'm not going to do something stupid."
"Is that a promise or are you just saying what I want to hear?"
"Uh…it's definitely one of the two."
He groaned.
"I like working for you, Zesty. Not keen on going back and filling out applications for greedy tech companies."
"You're talking like I'm already going to fail."
"There's a version of this where you're successful?"
Her lips twitched.
"Such pessimism," she playfully scolded. "Is it too out of the realm of possibility that I find his hideout, rescue the kids, and drive off on my merry way?"
"This is Joker," he stated seriously. "Guy's not gonna just lower his guard and allow the hostages to get free."
"Then we'll have to create a reason for him to leave the premises, won't we?"
"We?"
"Me, sorry," she amended. "The bus driver that took most of the hostages…do you think they were paid off or killed?"
"Can't say. Neither would surprise me."
"Hmm…" She leaned back and rotated her neck, cracking it in each direction. "Any chance you can get into Ludgate's employment logs? Find out who was driving the missing bus?"
"Figured you'd ask that eventually. Guy by the name of Dennis Hodgson. No track record, excellent work sheet. Hasn't missed a day in his ten years with the school."
"He own a cell phone at all? If he's got it on him maybe we can trace it."
She listened to his fingers work their magic.
"Has a contract with Gotham Wireless…let me get into his phone's tracker."
He cursed a moment later.
"His phone was tossed before they reached the Narrows."
"Damn," she said. "What about any of the kids?"
"That's a negative," he said. "Confiscated and destroyed, I'm guessing. There's no track signal for any of them."
She set the laptop down on the table, running two hands through her hair.
"Think," she murmured. "Think, think, think."
It wasn't until she saw her own cell phone sitting on the cushion next to her that inspiration hit.
"Uh…Viper One?"
"Roger, Zesty."
"Let's say hypothetically I had Joker's phone number. Hypothetically speaking, if I gave him a call and he answered…hypothetically…would you be able to trace the location that way?"
He was dead silent.
"Viper?"
"Celine."
She'd never heard him so serious before.
"Yes?"
"Why the hell would you have his cell phone number?"
"He may or may not have found out what mine was. And he may or may not have texted me from it already."
"Lucifer H. Christ, Celine. What the hell happened between you two?"
"Nothing that's relevant to our problem," she deflected. "If I kept him on long enough, could you track it?"
Again, he was muttering something she couldn't make out.
"Is it a burner?" he finally voiced.
"I…don't think so, but I can't be sure."
"Even if I could," he said. "He'd be stupid not to have some sort of reinforcement to hide his actual location. I…I could try to see the nearest cell tower his phone accessed to answer the call, but nothing beyond that."
"Okay."
"Okay?"
"I'm going to give him a call."
He sounded as if he'd slapped himself on the forehead.
"You need to find a way over here, then," he said. "I'll need my equipment and I can't get all of it down to you."
"Sure, sure." She glanced at the time. "I'll drive over. Can't imagine too many taxi cabs want to be out in this."
"Even if we manage to get a nearby location, what's your plan then?"
"I haven't thought it through that far," she admitted. "I'll consider my options on the drive over."
"Well be careful, alright? I just looked out my window and saw a herd of twenty people storm past my street, armed to the nines."
"Will do, thanks Viper."
She hung up and attached her taser gun holster to her hip. The state of Gotham right now was unpredictable, so, she tucked Sally's blade into its handle and slipped it into her pocket.
Her car sat in a nearby underground parking lot. Because she enjoyed wandering the city, she rarely took it out. Plus, gas was getting to be outrageous. Much more cost-effective to use it only if she were leaving the city or visiting a friend on the outskirts.
It was a dark silver, early 2000's Oldsmobile with a permanently dented, previously replaced red hood from one of the times she'd crashed it driving drunk. A family friend from Calgary Cliff sold it to her while she'd still worked her first job in high school and she'd done whatever was needed over the years, maintenance-wise, to keep it running. Call it a sentimental thing. One of the few items in Gotham tying her to her roots.
Bruce had been aghast the first time he'd laid eyes on it. Well, maybe aghast wasn't the right word.
"For the love of god Celine please let me update it. That vehicle poses a greater threat to you than anything else in this city."
Personally, she liked that it looked like a clunker. She'd said as much to Bruce.
"If I had a nice vehicle," she explained, "I'd have to worry about upkeeping it. If I'm on the freeway, I have to be nice and let people merge and pass. Not with my baby. My baby gives no shits if she has to skim past you. I can get down and dirty with her. Plus, your fancy, shiny car is far more likely to get broken into than mine."
He'd reluctantly conceded that point to her, though anytime it neared Christmas he would casually try to mention car models similar to hers that were on sale.
She patted her hood, fingers tracing some scuff marks.
"We've got work to do, baby."
x_X_x_X_x
She arrived at Taj's loft in just under an hour. It'd have been sooner, but she had to slow down any time masses of armed individuals randomly sprinted across the street. Few cars were out, though she'd passed at least thirty police cruisers in her drive north. They were desperately seeking out armed citizens in hopes that they could be negotiated with and herded home. From what it looked like; they weren't all that successful.
Thankfully, she'd not caught any shootouts. Things had not descended to that level of bedlam…yet.
She buzzed Taj's apartment number to his high-rise, eyeing her surroundings as she did so. Funnily enough, it was Sally her hand patted rather than Bruce's taser gun. She hoped to avoid using either but couldn't be too careful.
He buzzed her up seconds later.
Taj was in his mid-twenties equipped with an afro of caramel, curly brown hair. He had dark brown skin and well-trimmed facial hair. Rectangular specs gave him an air of sophistication, and when he spoke, it was with a bored, matter-of-fact tone. Nothing personal, he wasn't a know-it-all, it was just the candor in which he communicated.
"I thought you'd never get here," he mentioned upon unlocking the door. "How bad is it out there?"
"Could be worse," she answered, stepping in. "People are in formations at least."
She followed him to his bedroom, where two hard drives powered four window screens. The lights overhead almost always remained off. The screen and hard drives' blue glow more than made up for the lack of light.
Taj plopped down in his leather chair, eyeing her cautiously.
"Come up with a plan that won't get you killed?"
"Sort of," she said. "Verdict is still out on that second part."
He sighed, rubbing his forehead.
"Wayne is going to murder me if something happens to you."
When he reached out his hand for her cell phone, she gave it to him, letting him do whatever he needed to establish a secure line capable of being traced.
"You know," he said offhand, "Gotham Inquirer said-."
"I know what they said," she interrupted, a little sharper than she'd intended. "None of it is true."
He shrugged but didn't comment.
She received her cell phone five minutes later.
"Keep him on the line for at least a minute," he said, fingers flying over his keyboard while his eyes remained focused on his fourth window screen. "Like I said, I can get close to him, but it won't be exact."
She nodded, looking down at the number Joker had texted her from. With bated breath she brought up his contact information and hit 'call'.
He might not even answer. Probably too busy to-.
The other end was picked up half a second after the first ring.
"Hiya sweets, sooooo delighted to hear from ya. Call t'a congratulate me on a job well done?"
Through his headphones, Taj was able to hear everything between the two.
Celine had mentally rehearsed on the drive over just what it was she'd say. From prior interactions, she concluded playing ignorant would reel him up the most. Now that there was miles of distance between them, she kinda looked forward to provoking him.
"Job well done?" she asked, cocking her head. "What do you mean?"
She swore she heard a scoff.
"Don't ah be dense," he growled. "I told ya to watch the news."
"Oh yeah, I guess you did," she recalled lightly. "Sorry, had a late night, just woke up. Ate some cereal. Took a shower. Bird-watched. Practiced my French."
He was taking his sweet time responding. They were already fifteen seconds into the call.
"You uh…you really don't know what's happening outside your window?"
"It's a little cloudy," she noted. "Um…I think there's some sort of marathon going on today? People have been sprinting all over the streets."
Taj was biting the inside of his cheek; picking up on the growing frustration through the other end.
"You're telling me you haven't once watched the news today?"
"No," she answered as honestly as possible. "Fill me in."
His sigh was so drawn out she had to stifle down giggles.
"Sorta declared a little open hunt t'a cleanse the filth that is City Council. Ya remember those three pampered shits that were stealing public funds? One's dead, two t'a go."
"Huh…and what makes you think killing these three councilmen is what Gotham needs to better itself?"
She mentally gave herself a high five. He had a tendency to boast. Why not give him a question that allowed him to?
"Would you rather have your elected leaders whoring themselves out?" he answered testily. "This is faaaar from the worst I've done. These people actually deserve it! I'd uh have thought you out of anyone would understand."
"I get it, but this seems dramatic is all," she pointed out. "I'm guessing you're also responsible for the armed citizens taking to the streets?"
"Beee-ah-utiful, isn't it? I ah…I feel like a commander." He was quiet for a moment. "You have Sally on ya, right?"
Taj peeked at her, silently mouthing the word 'Sally?'
She waved him off.
"I don't know what she'd be able to do against a group of people wielding revolvers and shotguns," she said offhand. "But if I end up killed by one of these civilians, no exorcist alive will be able to protect your ass from me."
She expected him to respond one of two ways:
"It's not my problem."
or
"Toughen up."
His actual response blindsided her.
"Shh, shh…it's okay. I didn't mean to frighten you, little bunny," he soothed, tone softening. "Are ya at home? I can send some of my more loyal men t'a keep watch over ya."
The phone nearly slipped from her hand. She had not expected him to respond so…so…thoughtfully.
"No, no, it's okay," she hurriedly replied. "I'm-at Bruce's."
I should not have said that. Oh, I should not have said that.
A moment later the line went dead.
Taj was staring at her, neglecting the blinking on his screen.
Her eyes looked everywhere but him.
"Little bunny?" he repeated, head tilted. "Celine…what the fuck?"
"Did you get the trace or not?"
He looked like he was going to continue questioning her, but at the last second, refrained.
"No. Five more seconds and I'd have had him."
She groaned and closed her eyes at the flub, phone tapping rapidly against her chin.
"Celine-."
"Hush."
"But-."
"Shh."
"He called you-."
"I know what he called me."
"He was going to send-."
"Taj." She made eye contact with him. "Just…let me think."
He stayed silent as she considered her options.
"There's no way around it," she decided. "I have to go into the Narrows."
"How do you expect to do that?" He looked her up and down. "If I saw you in that part of the city, I would mug you without hesitation."
"When anthropologists do fieldwork on a subject they don't know well, they assimilate into their environment any way they can," she said. "This won't be too dissimilar."
He leaned back in his chair, causing it to squeak in protest.
"And what exactly do you have planned?"
"I was uh…homeless for a short spell after dropping out of GIT." She rubbed the back of her neck, not particularly willing to linger on that time of her life. "But I learned criminal organizations love recruiting the homeless because their payment is so simple: a roof over their head and warm food. Recently, Joker lost a lot of men because GPD managed to nab them. Combine that with the amount he loses killing them himself and I can't imagine he doesn't have a recruiter constantly seeking out hired hands. I have an inside guy – one of Joker's men – who can hopefully point me in the right direction. I find the recruiter; I have a way in."
"Why not just ask your inside guy where they're holed up?"
"Joker knows my guy is soft for me. He's already risking his life keeping me in the loop. I'm not going to push it."
Taj nodded, his confidence in her slowly returning.
"What happens after that?"
"I set up a distraction. Something that's tantalizing enough to drive Joker from his location. Disguise or not, I can't afford to have him recognize me."
"He'll have armed men standing watch."
"That will be tricky," she agreed. "It will all depend if the bus is on location or not. My guy can hopefully clear that up for me. If it is, I get them on without causing a ruckus. That's the rough draft of the plan."
"A very, very rough draft," he corrected. "Celine…why don't you just let the police handle this? Or Batman? Or…I mean…just wait for those other two councilmen to be killed. He'll let the kids go then."
"It's a matter of principle," she defended. "The police and Batman are the only ones doing something to keep things from becoming volatile. What are you doing? Or the average citizen, provided they're not storming the streets? You've all got your feet propped back, watching this unfold like it's a game. Joker is banking on that reaction. He couldn't be happier you're all too apathetic to care who lives or dies. I care. Men like him should not be allowed to decide the fate of this city. I mean…one councilwoman is already in custody for murder. How many more lives can he unravel before people finally snap out of it? He's not in charge, Taj. We have a choice to fight back. That's what I'm doing."
Doubt brewed in his expression, though, she could tell her explanation eased him somewhat.
"Well…you're not doing this alone." He ran a hand through his mop of hair. "I'll be your eyes and ears. What do you need me to do?"
"Keep me updated on what's happening in the city and with the remaining two councilmembers. I don't want to be caught off-guard."
He nodded, stroking his chin, gaze narrowing at her.
"You're not the same person he kidnapped," he observed. "You came out of that whole ordeal…different."
"You disapprove I take it?"
"Not in the least." He offered her an indulgent grin. "I didn't think I'd live to see the day Gotham's most notorious villain would develop a crush on kind little Celine Harlow."
"He does n-."
"Oh he does so," he butted in with a leer. "He spoke to you like he was seeking your approval. And take it from me; men – especially men like him - don't seek anyone's approval unless they really, really want you to like them. Sorry to break it to you, Zesty, but he's crushing hard on you. Just a heads up…something you might need to deal with later down the line."
"You've been reading too many issues of the Inquirer."
He chuckled.
"Well…I guess only time will tell."
She was out of his apartment ten minutes later, face still flush with embarrassment. But she had the bones of a plan laid out and she hoped dearly it wouldn't be in vain.