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Pain. I seem to have an affection, a kind of sweet tooth for it. Bolts of lightening, little rivulets of thunder. And I the eye of the storm.
~Toni Morrison, Jazz
Jason tossed the girl's bag and the tracking device in the dumpster behind the club. The girl was slung over his right shoulder, but he brought her down and pulled her to his side as he grappled up to the roof of the building. This better be worth all of this he thought to himself.
He had been tailing her for some time now, studying her every move and watching her interactions with those around her. He'd looked at her history, but that only got him so far. As far as he could tell, she was the one person that could get him what he wanted.
He knew the Black Mask would be furious she had been kidnapped. He had invested a large sum of money to turn her into something he could be proud of- something he could use to grow his empire. There was no way he'd let her go easily, and Jason could use that rage to his advantage.
"Some waste of money," he muttered to himself as he maneuvered across rooftops as easily as he would without the weight of an extra person. Why hadn't she put up more of a fight? Sure, he knew the gas he had used in the church would induce panic that she wouldn't be able to fight off, but if she couldn't change into another person under all of that, what good were all of those experiments?
Still, even if he couldn't use her abilities to his advantage, he could use her knowledge and the resentment she held towards her father to his advantage. She knew the operations inside and out- where the weaknesses where, the future plans for Black Masks operations, and everything he needed to aid him in taking down the Black Mask once and for all.
That is- assuming she would agree to help him, but he knew how she thought, and he could use that into manipulating her to work for him. She was a survivor- she did whatever she could to stay alive and thrive. She reminded of Jason of his childhood before Bruce Wayne took him in. Back her into a corner and give her the choice of a better situation or death, and she would take the former- regardless of whether or not it betrayed her family.
He couldn't help but smile at the thought. This was going to be fun.
"What do you mean she's missing?" Roman Sionis yelled as he grabbed one of his men by the collar, beginning to strangle him.
"We followed the tracker and found it in the dumpster with her phone-" the man was thrown on the ground, and he shrank back in terror as the Black Mask bent over him, glaring.
"Let me see it!"
The henchman pulled the phone out of his pocket and tossed it to him.
Roman unlocked the phone, only to discover a selfie of the Red Hood and his unconscious daughter. He let out a scream of rage, chucked the phone across the room, and pulled out his gun to shoot the bearer of bad news.
At the sound of gunshots, his assistant burst through the doors of his office.
"Li, I want every man we have searching the surrounding area. That son of a bitch has Riley, and there's no way in hell I'm letting him off easy. I want that peon to suffer."
"Yes, sir. Our people are already on it. They've found the bodyguards gunned down in front of the church, as well as Rachel, who is currently in the hospital from the injuries she sustained."
Roman slammed his fist on the desk, causing Li to jump back a little. "How the hell did he find out about Riley?"
He had made sure to keep her at a distance. He had paid off the right people to hide her connection to him. He had killed the doctor and nurses that had delivered her twenty-two years ago. He made sure to treat her like every other lieutenant he had. So how did the Red Hood know to go after her?
"I'm not sure, Sir, but I'm already looking into it."
Fear was something Riley was used to. From the Boogey Man lurking around the dark shadows of her bedroom at age four; every raised voice and fist at age seven; every night her father came home early. To being poked and prodded and injected, never knowing if the last thing she'd see was white coats and test tubes.
Fear was something the body learned to adapt to. Feel it long enough, and it becomes normalized, like the smell of coffee in the morning, or the whirl of the air conditioner.
But this- this was something entirely different. Fear she could deal with. This was terror. The kind that paralyzes the body, and the energy that is invoked for screaming threatens to burst forth, but no sound is made. Instead, those screams wrap around your throat and chest, strangling you with the very air that gives life.
Riley's eyes shot open, and she found herself in a dimly lit warehouse. Her arms were chained above her head, and she was slumped against the wall. There was a burning sensation in her left arm, and when she glanced up at it, she found it bandaged up. Memories came flooding back, and Riley questioned why the Red Hood would even bother with that sort of thing.
What the hell? She thought. Shouldn't she be dead? That's what he did to people in Black Mask's gang. He's the one that had been driving her father insane for the past few months as the Red Hood systematically picked off his men and dismantled her father's empire.
"You had a tracker implanted in your arm," Riley heard the voice from earlier explain, and within seconds she found herself face to face- or hood- with the Red Hood. "Couldn't have Daddy following us."
Riley remained silent and diverted her gaze. Her mind was trying to process everything. A slight tremor shook her body as he inched closer.
"Aren't you going to say something?" he asked, placing his hand by the side of her head as he tilted his head to the side. "No 'thanks for saving my life' or 'thank God you got me out from under my father's control'?"
Riley sighed and mustered up the courage to speak. "Right, because being held hostage by a killer is so much better." Her voice shook, but she continued, "And you don't have to invade my space. I'm scared of you enough as it is."
There was no point in denying she was scared. He would see through any false show of confidence, and for all she knew, it would probably piss him off if she did that.
The Red Hood chuckled but stayed where he was, not allowing her some sense of safety or control over the situation. "When you think about it, how is it any different than your previous situation? Sure, you weren't physically chained, but you were still tied to a maniac that kills anyone that gets in his-"
"What, and you don't?" She interrupted, finally meeting his gaze. Riley knew her previous situation wasn't ideal either, but she got by. The moment she got in her father's way, she knew she could face the same punishment as everyone else, so she made sure to do everything right. It was familiar, and it benefited her for the moment. She would prefer that situation to the one she was currently in.
"I kill those that deserve it!" he yelled and then took a breath to compose himself. He needed this girl on his side. "I kill those that ruin the lives of innocent people."
Riley focused her attention on her knees. The smell of gunpowder was overwhelming. Breathe. Remember to breathe.
"Well, why haven't you killed me? I certainly participate in it." The words were quiet and shaky. It was the first time she vocally acknowledged the effects of her work. Before this moment, feeding those thoughts would make things difficult. It would eat away at her.
As much as she hated it, a part of her did care for others. It was a weakness that didn't help her follow orders. It was a part that nagged her every time she paid her bills, or bought a new pair of shoes. So, to survive, she had suppressed all of those thoughts.
"Because you're going to help me take down Black Mask."
Now it was Riley's turn to laugh. Sure, she knew he was crazy, but he was making an insane assumption. "You can't be serious. Why in the world would I help you? I benefit from him being in power. That's like telling the leaders of Democratic Republic of the Congo to halt Chinese investment."
"As serious as a heart attack," he said, pulling out one of his guns and pressing it to her temple. "You're going to help me, and in return I won't kill you. Plus you'd get more freedom than you've ever had, and the once in a lifetime chance to train and work with me. "
"Oh joy," she muttered under her breath. She couldn't just betray her father like that. And sure, being killed wasn't on her to-do list, but she had protection under her father- she had a steady income and the assurance of bodyguards. Although, if he was offering to train her, maybe she wouldn't need the bodyguards as much as she had in the past. There was still the whole income problem though.
As if he had read her mind, he added, "And, I'll pay you twice as much as what Black Mask is giving you."
"And I'm supposed to believe you have that kind of money?"
Without another word, the Red Hood unlocked the chains from the wall, pulled Riley up to her feet, and walked her forward, with the gun still pressed to her head, towards one of the storage rooms. The door flew open and revealed a stack of bills organized into a perfect square that filled the majority of the space in the room.
Riley shrugged him off and went to sit down on the bed of money. The Red Hood's gun was still trained on her, but he had a feeling he wouldn't need it anymore.
"What exactly would you need me to do?" she asked. Riley couldn't see his face, but she was certain he was smirking at this point. His tone said it all.
"Gathering intel, taking down Black Mask's men, doing whatever I say. You would be second in command, of course, but-"
"But I just carry out your orders for the most part," Riley finished for him. "How do I know you won't just kill me when it's all said and done?"
"You don't. Consider it an incentive to follow orders."
Riley shrugged and gave him a small smile. "Fair enough. That's more than what Black Mask would give me." She knew that even if she followed Black Mask's orders, if he was in the mood, he would just kill her anyway. Being his daughter didn't guarantee her much in protection from his rage. "Give me a few hours to think on it."
The Red Hood closed the space between them quickly and pressed the gun to her forehead. Riley's body stiffened, and she returned his glare with a look of indignation. "No, you decide right now, or this room will look like a Jackson Pollock painting when I'm done with you."
"Oh, so you are cultured? I wasn't sure with all the leather and combat boots and whatnot," she teased, only to have him take the safety off the gun. "Fine. I'll work with you."