Euphoria Nightclub
10:50pm
Jason slammed her back against the wall and jammed the gun to her stomach.
"How the hell did you get that information?" He hissed. A feeling of betrayal surged through him. He knew the answer. He just couldn't believe it.
"Sam," She gulped. "Sam told me." She raised her hands. "Look, Jason. She's desperate-we're all desperate. We just need your help."
Jason eased a bit. "Why should I trust you? How do I know Sam's not gonna get hurt?"
"Like you said, we're working together; she knows what she's doing. You trust her, you trust me."
Jason fell silent. He removed himself from her.
"You're still useful, Jason. " She rested a hand on his marked cheek "You're still a good man."
Instinctively, he shoved her hand off.
"What's the plan?"
Jason strode back into the colorful setting of the nightclub only to see the thugs positioned in different areas, searching to find any familiar faces. Their insouciant appearance was distant from the vibrant vibe of the dancing, laughing frequenters. They stood with their face straight, back upright as if they were oblivious to anything that had fun associated with it.
He didn't see Sam. She was gone. Did she leave as soon as she saw the men? Or was she already found and taken? Todd shrugged those thoughts away as he approached the backroom.
A bald, bearded, and able bodied man guarded he door. Despite his muscular arms, the man developed beer gut due to his habitual drinking. He drank away the stresses in his life with a little abuse to his wife here and there whenever she brought up the finances.
He folded his arms as soon as Jason came near.
"Gotta have authorization to make it past, kid."
A laugh erupted from Jason. "I don't think you know who I am."
"I don't care."
"But you'd care to know what I do know."
The man replied with an incredulous look.
Jason scoffed. " Don't think I don't know about the influx of revenue you make off of selling cocaine and Ecstasy to your customers. Or how this nightclub launders money for major criminals in this city biweekly. Or those thirty or so prostitutes you have locked up downstairs..."
"What are you-"
He rose a hand "This nightclub is already in the interest of Queen Consolidated. Now my father, who's a land broker, would be so ecstatic to dig up any shit he had on this place to shut it down and sell it for the big bucks. And," He leaned to him "you really can't afford to lose your job, can you? "
Beer belly was now nervous. He hesitated for a moment then opened the door.
Cheap booze and tobacco greeted Jason as soon as he walked in. Middle aged men leisurely sat facing the stage watching a braless blonde dance on the stripper pole. Some sat in corners smoking cigars or blunts with two or more women beside them; alcohol and cocaine lined on the table.
Jason saw a heavy metal door at the back of the room.
Restricted Access:
Authorized Personnel Only
Before he made his way towards the door, he checked to see if anyone was trailing him. The men all seemed to be distracted by the blonde who now made a vertical split in the pole. A man threw a bill at her which she happily received and tucked in her underwear.
He moved swiftly to the door and turned the knob praying that the lights on the other side weren't on to expose someone had been entering.
He thanked whatever God truly existed-if there was one. It was pitch dark. He made enough room to squeeze his body through then shut the door silently then took out his gun. It had already been equipped with a flashlight. He turned it on.
He stood on a balcony that overlooked the place. He looked to his right. There was a long case of steps that descended to the basement. Just as Geneva told him. He slowly made his way down.
Once he reached, he moved towards the fuse box against the wall, and flicked the switch, bringing the light bulbs to life. There was no longer any use for the flashlight.
He turned it off and crept along the basement with the gun pointed outwards. It consisted of pipes and tubings that channeled alongside the walls. Along with crates of alcoholic drinks. Something hit his shoulder. Alerted, he jumped and pointed the firearm upwards.
It was a leaking pipe.
Disregarding it, he continued his way down. How huge was this place?
Cries and muffles of cries were heard from the distance. The more Jason advanced, the louder the noises grew.
He made a turn into what seemed like the boiler room, the path gradually narrowed, the ground was becoming chipped, rocky.
Then there was a sharp shriek. Jason turned to see a hoarde of women.
It was the prostitutes.
All thirty two of them.
Locked and abandoned in a cage, they all were sweating. Dirt stained their bare feet, arms, and faces. Their hair was frizzled, their eyes were wide, frantic as if they hadn't slept in days. They springed back once they saw a man in a black leather jacket and jeans hoisting a firearm.
"P-p-please don't hurt us," One of the women pleaded. Little girls who had to have been about ten cuddled into the adult's bosoms weeping.
He knew they couldn't entirely trust him. They didn't know him. Besides, he was a man. How could they be so sure he wasn't here to pick and choose?
"You're safe," Jason replied softly, lowering his pistol. "All of you," He paused.
"Do me a favor," He raised his pistol, aiming at the lock on the cell. "Get back ." He fired. Instantly it exploded and fell to the floor. He yanked the cell door open.
A lone red haired woman was the first to step out; they all were uncertain, afraid, shaking as they unhurriedly made their way into the open space. Come on…come on…
"Aquí abajo." A foreign voice spoke.
Damn it.
"Wait," Jason tried to calm down the traumatized females. He stretched out an arm "Get back in the cell,"
They complied while Todd went back to investigate. He retraced his steps until he found the fuse box. He leaned against a pipe and poked his head out. It was the henchmen.
Crap.
Three suited men entered while two carried AR-15's the other was empty handed. Shit. He hoped the girls stayed in the cage like he'd…
"They're here somewhere." The man standing in the middle spoke. He was American with white hair, green eyes, and a serious face. He turned his head to one of the men, revealing a long scar that traced from his cheek to his neck. "Get them. Now."
They spread out.
One of the men made his way towards him.
Jason braced himself. Once he came near, he grabbed hold of his shirt, flipped him over, and put him in a choke hold submission. Not letting go until he was unconscious.
"Worthless ape," He muttered to himself.
He pulled out his pistol as he left his cover position. The American was there standing with his back facing him.
This was the golden moment.
This was the perfect shot.
Jason edged closer to him, maintaining a distance.
Then he fired.
At a lightning speed, he dodged the bullet. Hitting the henchmen in front of him instead. Blood spurred out from the back of his head as his corpse met the ground.
"You know if you really wanted to kill me," the man spinned to the former Robin.
"You'd have to be more quiet."
Then he charged, jumped into the air then stretched out a leg to kick Jason. The Robin in him swirved to dodge his attack yet he still managed to strike his equipped hand. The gun fell to the floor with a thud.
"You don't need that to fight me."
He clutched the collar to his leather jacket and threw him across the room into a box of crates. Todd could already feel his soreness resurfacing, the splinters pricking at his face, the warmness on his left cheek...
He touched it only to see the tips of his fingers stained red. Anger swept him, giving him the motivation to stand up.
"You're right, I don't."
Jason bolted towards him threw a fist to punch his face. However the man snatched with a deathly tenacious grip that would impress Superman himself. Jason kneeled before him in pain.
"Do you really think you can take me on, kid?"
He was met with the striking blue eyes of Jason Todd.
"Yes. Yes I can."
He used his free fist to jam his rib cage with all his might. The man leaned forward. Jason rose, took hold of his shoulders, and headbutted him to the chin then swept his feet from beneath him. He thought he had him but he sprung off the floor. He showed his teeth that were now stained with blood.
Fuck.
They continued to fight. Their bodies moved graciously, professionally. Both were able to counter and attack with ease, laying good hits on one another. Jason inferred this man had to have some military experience-Green beret? SEALs possibly? Eventually the white haired man with the scar pulled back and drew out a revolver.
"You're good," he said unimpressed. He pointed at a set of boxes. Bottles of alcohol shattered violently. He produced something else from his trenchcoat. A match.
"But a waste of my time."
He flung the match into the wood and flammable liquid. Orange and dark red separated the two. A wall of flames stood before Jason, blocking him from the other side. The side where the exit was…
The man ascended the steps, took one last look at Jason and locked the door behind him.
Damn it.
He turned and ran back to where the women were. He had to get them out of here.
Even if it was just them…
Opening the cell door, he noticed it was empty. Swearing to himself, Jason slammed it.
It was all just a diversion.
He heard a grunting noise from the distance. The henchman he knocked out earlier laid there, struggling to breathe yet still managed to laugh.
"They took them," He laughed. "Along with that perra you came with."
Coughs erupted from the man due to the smoke's accumulation and hysterical laughter.
Jason stomped on his chest "Where are they headed?"
No answer. Instead, he was reaching for a concealed firearm in his holster. Sneaky bastard. The former Robin seized his hand with enough strength to snap his wrist. He took the weapon and focused the nozzle on him.
"Where. Are. They. Headed?"
"Go to hell."
"Lemme give you a taste first…"
Jason dragged him closer to the fire pushing his head enough so that the flames can itch his skin. The man screamed.
"Where?!"
"The Docks! To the Docks! Lo juro !" What seemed like tears rolled down his eyes. "A deal's supposed to go down tonight between Black Mask and the Latinos! They're going to ship the women! That's all I know!"
"Appreciate that," Jason flung his body away from the blaze and with no thought placed a bullet in his chest killing him instantly. He did him a favor, he was scared of the fire anyway...
Now how the hell was he going to get out? Smoke began burning his eyes, filling his lungs. The swarm of fire drew closer... He didn't have much time. He glanced upwards. An air vent was on the wall, half open...
Coughs began erupting from Jason, his muscles were weak due to the lack of oxygen. He started to feel woozy like he was going to-No. He can make it.I will make it. Using his remaining energy, he climbed up the metal pipes. Suddenly the pipe became hot to the touch. Fire began licking the metal surface. He swore then shot the leaking conduit he found earlier. Water spewed allowing it to back away, gray smoke took its place. He pounced to the air vent and crawled his way up.
Patrons of the nightclub scurried out of the burning building, screaming. Oblivious to the fact that the man responsible calmly walked past the wailing civilians and into the passanger seat of the black SUV.
"Did you get them all?" The driver inquired.
"Affimative. Good work."
Geneva revved the engine to life and drove off. Another vehicle followed carrying the thirty two bellowing prostitutes and a bound and gagged former GCPD reporter.
Policemen and firetrucks now came to the scene. Unaware of what truly happened.
Peeking through the rear view mirror, the green eyed man let out a sly grin of satisfaction as the flames spread. Little did he know a Jason Todd already jumped through the air vent and onto the hard, cool pavement. He leaned against the building for a moment panting, coughing. His lungs still full of toxic fumes, his head still spinning, his body, weak. He breathed in the fresh October wind as it graciously hit his face. Once he regained stamina and cleared his head he remembered where he had to go.
The Docks.
