Chapter 20 – Interlude II

Harley waited impatiently – the only way she was capable of waiting, actually – with her hands clenched on the steering wheel and her Doc Martens boot ready on the gas. Her customized Glock, all shiny and gleaming, and loaded, rested on the passenger seat. She was alone in the truck.

The truck was idling in a dirty, empty alley in Gotham. There were many such dirty alleys in Gotham City. This one happened to lead directly to the loading dock of a dilapidated warehouse where a certain shipment was in the process of being transferred from one company to another. The fact that it was happening at just past midnight suggested said shipment was not a routine delivery of paper towels or soap dispenser refills.

Harley was waiting for the little device tucked in her ear to give her the go-signal. She was antsy but only because she could feel the adrenalin surging through her. She had not taken part in a heist for weeks, nor even any big-time op since springing Mistah J from Arkham. It was high time for this gig, and what a gig it was! She was practically peeing her undies. But she waited. She would be patient, for her Puddin.

But really, the whole thing was very simple: one way or another her Puddin' had gotten a tip that a shipment of very, very top-secret equipment was on its way to someplace from Wayne Enterprises, and not from the Human Resources deparment. Try Research & Development. And since Wayne Enterprises was the height of technological R&D in the whole world, there was likely to be some fun toys in the lot. Very useful toys. Said shipment reputed to also contain ordnance, of the very BOOM-y kind. Anything that went BOOM was welcome in Harley's world, but she'd noticed that Puddin' seemed more interested in the fact that Wayne Enterprises was involved. Why not? They made the best toys! Everyone knew that! It really didn't matter to Harley. They could be hijacking pizzas, if it put a smile on her baby's face. A bigger smile, anyway. He'd been so moody lately, disappointed that the Batman hadn't been seen for some time. Surely he hadn't retired? One of the gang had innocently suggested that maybe somebody had offed him, and that had sent her Puddin' into a frenzy...and the man into traction. He didn't like that idea very much. Well, he always said they had a destiny together, although how that worked she wasn't quite sure. But then this opportunity came up and he leapt on it. Something to do, anyway. Yet Harley felt that this was somehow a turning point for the better.

The signal came. Harley stomped on the accelerator. The truck lurched forward with a roar, barreling straight down the alleyway. She didn't turn on the headlights until the last minute, so she could see the surprised look on the faces of the hapless couple of workers before they went splat! She hit the warehouse doors hard, but they crumpled like paper under the thrust of the 7-ton truck. It rolled into the cavernous warehouse blaring its horn and screeching its tires. The people who were in the building scattered as armed men emptied onto the floor from the back of the truck, wearing masks and costumes more befitting performers at a children's birthday party than hijackers and bandits.

The air was immediately filled with the roar of guns and curses and shrieks. The stunned warehouse employees fled, while the few who provided security tried to resist and were quickly overwhelmed by the firepower and ferocity of the Joker Gang.

Harley dived out of the cab just as the windshield was shattered from half-a-dozen bullets. She rolled and came up with her Glock in her hand and her saw-toothed K-bar fighting knife in the other. She dropped one of the couriers who had managed to unholster his pistol, and another who hadn't. She ran pell-mell into the warehouse, firing at anyone who wasn't wearing a party-mask, symbol of the Joker Gang.

As much as she liked chaos, she knew where she had to go. The party could wait. While the rest of the gang dealt with the shrinking number of guards, she navigated the pathways in the back of the warehouse, in between stores of who knew what. Usually, she would pause to swipe something that caught her eye, but not now. She had to hurry. Her Puddin could be in serious trouble!

There were offices in the very back. Most were dark as regular staff certainly didn't work past 5pm. There was one office that was lit, its shades drawn. To Harley, it looked ominous like something out of a horror movie but she didn't hesitate.

Harley kicked in the door. Inside was the Joker, handcuffed and tied to a chair, slumped forward, his green hair hanging in his face. His elegant purple silk shirt had been ripped and torn, revealing his white skin beneath. His pristine pale beauty, marred now by several bruises and bleeding cuts! Harley's heart leapt. There were three other people in the room, two thickset dumb-looking guards and some greasy middle-aged fat dude in a suit. They all looked up in shock.

Harley recalled the plan. The Joker, alone, would make a clumsy botch at robbing the warehouse, which was owned by a local and small time mobster, a man named Carlo Silva - the plan was that he would be captured, fairly easily. The Joker, knowing something of said mobster, was aware that the small fry, rather than call the cops, wouldn't be able to resist squeezing him for information and the rep of having gotten over on the infamous Joker himself. Silva would bring him to his own office, exactly where Joker and his gang were tipped would be the goods. A tracker placed on the Joker would reveal the exact warehouse, as the man owned several in Gotham.

Harley hadn't been the most thrilled, but the Joker said he needed to brush up on his acting skills after his long stint in Arkham Asylum ("The worst audience, they applaud anything," he'd once complained), and he wouldn't be deterred. But it had worked. But now Harley wished she'd been a little faster.

"Da fuck?" One of the guards stuttered.

At the man's voice the Joker looked up. There was a bruise and a cut over his right eye also. "What took you so long, my dear?" He asked politely, as if Harley had just joined a tea engagement rather than a torture/interrogation session.

Harley didn't answer. Her eyes went to the corner table, on which lay a cattle prod, a pair of steak knives, and a set of brass knuckles. These were items she was familiar with…but only in a private and intimate way, of course. To see her Puddin' tied up, and those things used on him – by someone else other than her – infuriated her into sheer homicidal frenzy.

One of the burly guards lunged at Harley but she was faster. She ducked under her arm and deftly slit his flesh which bulged over shirt collar, which soon was dark red. His eyes widened and he went down with barely a sound. Before the other guard could react she had plunged the six-inch blade into his face, straight through his eye. The guy stumbled around blindly for a second before joining his co-worker on the floor.

"Waita minute…wait!" Silva threw up his hands. "I didn't do nothin', I was just asking him some questions, here, take my wallet, take-"

"Eat shit!" Harley snarled and blew him away, rendering him fairly unable to eat anything, much less shit, ever again.

The mobster fell across Joker's lap, causing him to grimace. "Baby, are you ok?" Harley cried out.

"Do I look ok? I have a fat corpse in my crotch! Get him off me!"

Harley obeyed, and soon the Joker was free from his restraints. He ignored Harley's attempts to bandage him up, wanting to see immediately what the gang had acquired.

Johnny Frost ran up just as Joker put on a fresh shirt. "You okay Boss?" He had argued against the Joker putting himself at risk this way but to no avail. No doubt, he thought, the Joker would just get off on it.

"Never better! Where's our stuff?"

"It's exactly where we thought it would be, and it's pretty much what we thought it would be. Experimental drones, snooping technology, some remote-controlled ordnance-"

"The boomy stuff," Harley said dreamily.

"Yes, Harley, the boomy stuff. Plus some others, all destined for a place called S.T.A.R. We think that that's some federal black ops site. We're getting it loaded up and we'll be out of here in a minute. But…there's something you ought to see."

Joker's eyebrow went up. "A surprise? I do like surprises! Come Harley, let's go see."

Joker and Harley followed Frost back into the main space of the warehouse. As he said, the gang was loading large, locked metal boxes into waiting vans. They all looked identical, stamped with the Wayne Enterprises logo. There was only one left. But it was what was sitting on top of it that attracted their interest.

It was a small box, perhaps the size of a shoebox, wrapped in bright paper like a birthday or Christmas present, minus the bow. Circus clowns decorated the paper. Needless to say, it stood out.

"Who put that there?" Harley demanded.

"No one we know. It was there when we secured the place. Just sitting there." Frost nodded to a couple of dead guards lying in the corner. "Not like we could ask them."

Harley noted the package with interest. "Well, it does stand out from the rest of the junk. Maybe it got mixed up between couriers. Some kid's gonna be missing his toy."

Frost was suspicious. "I dunno," he said. "I have a bad feeling about it. Looks a little too pat, almost like it was sitting here waiting for the boss to notice it."

"Hm," Joker wondered. "Or, something special? Just for little ol' me?"

"Could be a booby trap." Frost warned. "There's no way anyone coulda known you were coming but-"

Joker smiled brightly. "Maybe you should open it then, just to make sure I won't get hurt."

Frost sighed. He had really walked right into that one. Next time – if there was a next time – he would keep his mouth shut and let his psycho boss get blown straight to hell.

However, he did as he was told and carefully unwrapped the package with hands that shook only a little. The paper was just wrapping paper. Within was a small lacquered box, like something from the Orient, decorated with geometric designs that didn't quite look either Chinese or Japanese or Korean. Harley's first thought was that it was very pretty.

"It's not a bomb," Frost said with certainty, due to prior knowledge of such things.

Joker took it peremptorily from his henchman. He felt it over with his hands - fortunately the thugs hadn't thought to hit him there. He pressed down on a corner and a drawer popped out. Both he and Harley saw it contained a single slip of paper.

"What is it, some kind of fortune cookie sayin'?" Harley reached for the slip of paper.

The Joker swatted her away upside the head, nearly knocking her off her feet. "It's for me," he said. He took it out and read it, holding it in a way that only he could see what was written.

Harley, regaining her balance, saw that her Puddin' was taking an awful long time reading the note. He was still staring at it while she hopped impatiently from foot to foot. How many words could fit on the dang thing?

"What does it say, Puddin'?" She whispered, risking another upside-the-head. He didn't answer right away He was still being rather uncharacteristically quiet, and the look on his face too was odd. She and Johnny exchanged an uneasy glance.

To her surprise (she had really expected just to get hit again), he handed it to her wordlessly. To her bigger surprise, the paper had only one sentence on it. Seven words, no more, no less. It was printed in a cursive font, in small letters:

Who woundeth thee shall make thee whole.

There was nothing else, no attribution, no invoice, no note.

Harley read it again, this time aloud. "What does it mean?" Harley frowned, puzzled at the strange wording. "Is it from the Bible or something?"

Joker seemed to snap out of his weird trance then, and he rolled his eyes. "No, Harley dear, it is not from the Bible."

Harley scowled. "Then is it some kind of riddle? I thought that moron was still upstate."

The Joker didn't reply; he straightened, hand on chin, deep in thought. To Harley, it looked like he was trying very hard to remember something. Harley knew the feeling. Whenever she tried to think of happy memories of her childhood – or her life pre-Puddin' for that matter – she also got the same strained look. Only it seemed like what he was trying to remember wasn't exactly happy.

Finally, Joker just threw back his head and cackled. Harley relaxed a little. This was more like it!

"It doesn't mean anything…or maybe it does…either way, dear Batsy can't ignore this, and that's not even the icing on the pie."

"No, you mean 'cake,' Puddin'."

Now, Joker smacked her. "Pie. I like icing on pie."

"But who is it from?"

He paused, the strange look coming to his face again. "I don't know. I don't think it was from our former friend. He wouldn't know of our plans, I think. But it was in the shipment from Wayne Enterprises wasn't it? Maybe he wrote it, or knows who did. Anyhoo, we'll find out once we ask him?"

Harley's eyes widened.

"You mean, we're going to ask Mr. Wayne himself?"

"Why not? After all, I'm sure he'd like to explain how some of this stuff works. Maybe even this." He handed the box to Harley, who held it as if it were made of solid gold.

"Wow!" Harley was really getting excited. What was Mistah J planning now? A kidnapping? Extortion? Would he reveal who the note was for? So many possibilities!

The stimulation was getting to Harley. She grabbed him, still holding the box.

"Now, Puddin'," Harley whispered hoarsely, her eyes bright with lust and madness. "Take me right here and now! On top of this!" She threw herself on top of the metal box left on the floor.

In response Joker grabbed Harley's knife, out of its sheath, held it up so that the tip was directly under her chin. He leaned forward so that his homicidal eyes stared an inch away from hers.

"You giving me orders now, babydoll?" Joker said in a tone that suggested murder, and had made people piss themselves.

Harley was not other people. She bared her teeth. Her canines seemed pronounced and sharp in the glare of the arc-lights. "You damn right."

Joker blinked and leaned back. "Oh. Well. Okay, then. If you put it like that…hahahaha!"

He slammed the knife next to her head, less than a centimeter from her ear, and yanked her pants down. She was wearing the thinnest of panties, which were now soaking wet. He ripped those away too, and bent his head into Harley's crotch. She moaned, grabbing his green hair with her hands and pulling him closer into her, spreading her legs wide.

Frost shook his head, turned and motioned the others to go back to the cars and get ready to go. This would probably take some time, and he didn't need to see all that, and especially not the Joker's pale white schlong. He had more pressing concerns, not least what exactly what the Joker was planning to do with all his new toys. He only told Frost as much as he needed to know. One thing was certain: this stunt was something the Batman would surely not ignore. There was stuff in there he was certain that many powerful people would miss. If he wanted the Bat's attention he would get it.

Frost got back into his Mercedes with his top man, a dude who liked to wear an Elmer Fudd mask for some reason. He glanced into the rearview mirror, where he caught a glimpse of the Joker, his pants around his ankles, now thrusting rapidly into Harley's willing body. He could distantly hear her yell, "Harder, harder!" In that shrill, annoying voice of hers. If she was his girlfriend, she would have been at the bottom of Gotham Harbor a long time ago. Or he would be.

"The boss ok?" The Elmer Fudd asked.

Frost was about to say, "He's fine" but then he remembered the way the Joker had looked when he read that weird slip of paper in that lacquered box. He had never quite seen the boss look that way before, and if you had the Batman in front of him interrogating him personally, he could not have described it either. Almost as if, just for a moment, he recognized the writing, the paper, or what it meant. Almost as if he did know what it was...and that it was meant for him all along.

Frost shook his head. It was just some weird gift for a kid. Nothing to do with anything.

"Boss is fine," Frost replied. "Just doing his thing. Let's just get outta here."

To be continued...

[A/N: I felt like doing another Joker/Harley Quin chapter (so sue me!) I do want to get across that Harley is pretty vicious and homicidal – and crazy! I would see a Suicide Squad 2 with the same actors if they did one. I hope everyone enjoyed seeing Justice League, I liked it, and hope they do an extended release like with BVS. Meanwhile, the mysterious note is another puzzle piece of the mystery. Who left it? We will learn one of these chapters!]