Old Gotham. If Gotham was a toilet Old Gotham would be the turd that refused to go down the drain. This part of town had been home to criminals for as long as Alex remembered and it didn't seem to have changed in his absence. So of course General Anderson decided the best place to house him during this operation was in the middle of this shithole. Hooray!. At least it meant Alex didn't have to go far to get work done. He'd been briefed that He'd be acting as a recruiter for his cover, even went as far as to have him transferred to the local recruitment station, official orders and everything.
The General had dropped Alex off at an old apartment complex and told him that he'd be staying on the top floor. Turns out the DOD had bought the whole building secretly and repurposed the upper floor into a command center for the operation. The individual rooms where cleared and turned into a large open loft, fully furnished, and it came with a complete kitchen setup as well. The only other rooms were Alex's own bedroom, also furnished, the bathroom, and another room sealed by a large vault door which he assumed to be the armory. As a bonus the General had given Alex a blacked out Dodge Challenger as his means of transportation. In all it was a pretty sweet setup, the only downside was that the rest of the apartment complex was still open to the public so as to not draw suspicion. Thankfully the top floor was only accessible by elevator and that required a special key, which only Alex and General Anderson had copies of.
Speaking of the General he had taken off after dropping Alex here, saying that he would be overseeing the operation from a remote location. That suited him just fine, higher ups always did make Alex nervous.
After setting his bags away in his room Alex decided to check out the armory and see what toys they'd given him to play with. The large vault door was made of reinforced steel and would only open with a ten-digit code. Reaching into his pocket for the code and inputting it into the vault door which then cycled its multiple locks before opening. Once the door swung fully open Alex stepped inside and glanced around in amazement. Gun racks ran along each wall, all housing different weapons. Assault rifles, shotguns, pistols, SMG's, LMG's, even a freaking M2 .50 CAL! On top of all that he spotted frag grenades and other explosives, along with stacks of ammo cans for the weapons. Too say he was pleased would be an understatement, Alex felt like a kid in a candy store! Grabbing his own weapon, an M27 IAR, and a couple of magazines before locking up the armory and heading back to his room for the night.
Setting the rifle down on his bed, Alex began to unpack his things. Once his uniforms and clothes where hung up in the closet he set up his laptop on the desk provided along with some other office supplies before going to set up his personal effects.
As he's rummaging through his bags Alex came across a framed picture that had been buried at the bottom. Pulling it out revealed a photo of himself and Harleen taken at the Marine Corps ball five years ago. Alex was wearing his dress blues and Harleen in an expensive dress she had bought just for the occasion, smiles on both their faces, it had been a happier time. His nostalgia was quickly replaced by anger and without thinking Alex threw the picture against the wall, shattering the frame and scattering glass everywhere.
"How could she betray me like that!? We were best friends, maybe more, and she tries to kill me for that nut job! She's luckily I just shot her hand after what she did!" Alex ranted to himself. That night was all a blur, one moment Harleen's with him in the asylum and the next she disappears before alarms start going off. He'd assumed that she'd been taken hostage during the escape, but it was only after her vehicle flipped that Alex realized the truth. He didn't know what was worse, that he didn't see it coming, or that somewhere deep in his mind he'd known all along and refused to accept it until he pulled her from the wreckage. Either way Harleen Quinzel was dead to him, killed by Harley Quinn and the Joker.
After calming down, Alex picked up the photo, now free from its frame and looked at it sadly. His best friend had died that night, allowing herself to be twisted by that maniac until she was consumed by Harley Quinn and what was worse is that she let it happen. Alex pinned the photo above his desk as a reminder of what was and what could have been. That finished he picked up one of the magazines he grabbed from the armory and removed two rounds from it. Grabbing a sharpie from his desk he quickly wrote Harley Quinn on one casing and Joker on the other before setting them on the desk. His friend died that, he couldn't save her, but he most certainly could avenge her death by killing the people who murdered her…
…Mission Complete…