"Please let me come with you, Jack," begged Harley.
"No," retorted Jack, firmly, as he pulled on his coat.
"But what if something happens to you?" she asked, tears in her eyes.
"What if something happens to you?" he demanded. "You think I could live with that? You think I don't already hate myself enough for what I gotta do without you getting hurt in the process? It's too dangerous, Harley."
"If it's dangerous, you could use my help," she retorted.
"Sweetheart, please," he said, putting his hands on her shoulders and looking her in the eyes. "I love you so much. And this isn't a game. It's gonna be hard enough looking after myself in there, let alone you. You have to stay here. I promise I'll call you the moment I'm free…"
"But until then I just have to sit here worrying?" demanded Harley. "There's nothing worse than that, Jack. Just waiting by the phone as the seconds tick by, not being able to distract yourself because your mind is too preoccupied by horrible thoughts of what could be happening to you...I'll go crazy, puddin'!"
"And I'll go crazy if anything happens to you," he retorted. "So please, Harley, for my sake, just stay here. Promise me, ok?"
She sighed. "I promise," she murmured.
"That's my girl," he said, kissing her. "And whatever happens tonight…I'll always love you."
He holstered his gun, and Harley threw herself into his arms, squeezing him tightly. "Come back to me," she whispered. "Please."
He kissed her again. "I promise," he said. She held onto his hand as he walked out the door, and then slowly let go, gazing after him with tears in her eyes.
He headed down the stairs and then turned back, racing back up the stairs to her and seizing her in his arms. "I love you!" he whispered, kissing her desperately over and over again. "I love you so much!"
She returned his hungry kisses, crying silently until he reluctantly drew away again. "I'll see you soon," he said, heading down the stairs again.
"I'll be waiting," she said, waving at him until the darkness swallowed him up.
…
"Fifty grand each, easy," said Salvatore Valestra as he, Jack, and two other rough-looking men crouched in the back of a van. "Assuming this all goes to plan, which it will. Jack, you're the marksman – the plant's guarded by two guard towers. I want those guards taken out the minute we're through the gates, understood?"
"Yes, sir," murmured Jack.
"Buzz, Chuckie, you're covering me once we get inside. There's minimal night-shift security – shouldn't be a problem for three guns. Jack, you join us as soon as you can – there's gonna be a big haul, and I'm gonna need all my guys to carry it. We get in there, get the money, get out – twenty minutes tops. Easy."
"What if the Bat shows up, boss?" asked Chuckie, as he climbed into the front seat and started the van.
"What Bat?" asked Jack.
"The Batman – don't you read the papers?" snapped Buzz. "He's some costumed freak who's just appeared on the scene in Gotham and whose hobby seems to be terrorizing the criminal underworld. He's foiled a lotta gang's operations recently, and left the perps strung up for the police to find."
"If you're so worried about him, Buzz, I'll leave you outside the plant to do Bat-guard duty," retorted Sal. "But I ain't scared of some nutjob in a Halloween costume."
"So he's like…some kinda specially trained cop?" asked Jack, slowly.
"Nah, cops say he ain't theirs," retorted Buzz. "Apparently he works alone, like all looneys and psychopaths. Probably some sick, sadistic freak who gets off on beating the crap outta people. You should see the pictures of the guys he catches – broken bones, black eyes, blood everywhere, it's a real mess. So excuse me for being a little edgy about him."
Jack's nervousness only grew at this, and he tried to steady his hands by clutching his gun. The cool metal was soothing to him. Just a bullet to the head he thought, glancing at Sal. Nice and quick and clean. And then Harley and me are free forever.
"Showtime," said Sal, clapping Jack on the back, as Chuckie turned a corner and the van pulled into the gates of the Ace Chemicals Factory. Two searchlights from the guard towers fixed on the van, and Jack took a deep breath, leaning out the window and aiming his gun.
Two quick bullets took out the lights, and two more the guards. Sal chuckled as they opened the van doors, piling out and grabbing weapons. "Crack shot, just like your Pop," he said, clapping Jack on the back again. "Oh, he'd be proud of you today, Jackie boy!"
Jack gritted his teeth as he followed Sal and Chuckie into the factory, while Buzz waited outside to keep watch. The whole place smelled foul and sterile, like a hospital, or cleaning products. Probably from whatever crap was in these vats, thought Jack, as they passed row after row of huge metal tankards filled with bubbling green liquid.
He heard more gunfire up ahead as Sal and Chuckie took out more guards. A man in uniform suddenly rounded the corner. "Freeze!" he shouted, aiming at Jack, who beat him to the punch, firing a bullet straight into his head. He was dead before he hit the ground in front of him. Jack's heart raced as he saw the blood pooling around his feet, realizing that he had just killed a man.
"Good practice, I guess," he muttered, willing the emotions of guilt and self-loathing down. "For when I gotta kill another one."
"Jack! C'mon over and help us!" called Chuckie from the office. Jack followed the sound of his voice, where Sal and Chuckie were bent over an open safe.
"What did I tell ya?" chuckled Sal, beaming at them. "Fifty grand each easy! C'mon, boys, let's haul it outta here!"
They filled sacks with bills, Jack filling his more slowly, his heart racing. Not long now…
Chuckie's sack was full and he headed out of the office, leaving Sal and Jack alone. Suddenly, they heard a commotion coming from outside. "Buzz?" called Sal. "Chuckie?"
Now or never, while he was distracted, thought Jack. He took a deep breath, raised his gun, and then fired it into the back of Sal's head. Blood spattered everywhere, covering Jack, as the gangster's body fell to the ground. Jack gasped from the shock, his hand shaking.
"Christ!" he gasped. "Jesus Christ!"
He mechanically moved toward the door, still clutching the sack of loot in his hand and shutting his eyes, knowing he'd never be able to block out the mental image of what he had done. But when he opened them, a new horror greeted his vision.
It was a man in a bat costume. No, not a costume, he noticed – some kinda armor. The only thing visible was the man's jaw, hard and resolute, and his eyes, which fixed on Jack in loathing.
"You murdered him," he growled, in a deep voice. "You murdered him for an extra share of loot. It's disgusting to take a human life for money, but I guess it's true - there is no honor among thieves, is there, Jack Napier?"
Jack gaped at him, terrified. "How…how do you know who I am?" he gasped.
"I know you're a piece of criminal scum, just like your father," growled Batman. "Like father, like son. The apple never falls far from the tree, does it, Jack Napier? And to think you tried to pull the wool over everyone's eyes. You even succeeded, with Harley."
"How do you know about Harley?" gasped Jack, becoming more frightened with each passing second as the grip on his gun tightened.
"I know about everything to do with your life, Jack Napier," murmured Batman. "And don't you worry. After I leave you broken and battered on the ground to be hauled off to prison, I'll drop in on Harleen Quinzel. She deserves a better man than you, and she'll finally get to have one."
"You stay the hell away from Harley!" shouted Jack, his fear turning to fury in an instant. He fired three shots at Batman, who dodged into the shadows. Jack raced after him, looking around carefully.
He spotted him up above him, on one of the raised platforms above the vat, and fired. Batman disappeared again, and Jack ran up the stairs to reach the platform, studying the darkness with his gun raised.
Suddenly, the platform lurched, and Jack grabbed hold of the railing, trying to steady himself. He looked up to see that one of the chains connecting the platform to the ceiling had been cut…and then another one was, sending the platform lurching downward. Jack dropped his gun, using both hands to cling onto the railing now, and watched the weapon slide down the ramp and disappear into the glowing, green vat below.
His heart racing and panting for breath, Jack clung desperately onto the railing, trying to regain his footing. But the incline was steep, and even with the railing to steady himself, he kept slipping further and further toward the acid below. He could feel the heat from it bubbling up toward him…
And then Batman landed above him, his sudden weight making the platform jump and knocking Jack's grip from the railing. He slid down toward the acid, scrambling to grab ahold of anything…and then Batman seized his hand.
"Don't worry about Harley. I'll take good care of her for you," he whispered, grinning. "The better man was always going to win eventually, you know. It's just easier for everyone this way. So goodbye, Jack Napier."
And then Batman hurled him backward, sending him plummeting into the acid below. Jack's scream was cut off as the green chemical filled his mouth, choking him, drowning him, and then it swallowed him whole.