18
Recommended listening; "It's My Life", "We weren't Born to Follow" by Bon Jovi, "In the End" by Black Veil Brides, "Eyes Open" by Taylor Swift, or "Don't You Worry Child" by Swedish House Mafia. Post alternate songs in the reviews if you think of them,
Jasmine parked about half a block from the building where Rachel was. She tapped the steering wheel nervously. Jack had called, and they had talked through a few last minute details, but neither had spoken for a while. They simply held the line open in silence.
She glanced up at where her father and Alfred were supposed to be. She knew Batman was flying back and forth above her, but didn't bother to try and see him in the pre-morning darkness.
Jack's voice cracked over the cell, in full Joker mode. "Alllll riiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiight Honey! It's a go. The map should be on your phone."
"You won't forget what you promised?"
"Never, Jazz. Now scoot, or do I have to put a banana peel under you?"
Ignoring him, Jasmine pulled up the map and followed his instructions carefully. He had loaded the place with about half a ton of explosives, and she didn't want to find herself tripping over a hidden wire. There were little clown faces where Chris had positioned his goons, she noted as she slung her duffle of tools over her shoulder.
According to Batman and Jack, Chris had Rachel on the roof of the building, near the air and electrical control units. She knew shooting without a target there would be risky due to ricochet. A bullet from her own gun could well prove her demise. She'd just have to keep low and not fire unless she had a clear line.
Walking quickly and quietly through a side door, she cross-stepped along a wall until she could see around one of the corners. Flashing the phone map, she could see the first floor was clear of Chris' men. Running to the stairs, she careened up to the second floor landing. Clearing the area, she charged up again, and checked her phone.
Going up the main stairs was a risky affair. If a clown arrived, she'd have worse than no cover and he would have the high ground. She had to clear the closest areas, and have someplace located to hide before she reached each floor. Jack's maps proved invaluable to doing it. She hoped her mother never found out.
Jasmine was about half-way up before a group of clowns moved on patrol. She slid into the space between a garbage bin and the wall. As they neared, she screwed the suppressor onto the barrel of each handgun, moving slowly and forcing her breath to stay even.
They walked past her and around the group of vacant offices. When their footsteps faded, she rolled to her feet and scooted to the stairs. Pausing to make sure no one had heard her; Jasmine launched herself upwards, guns ready.
As Jack had predicted on the virtual map, the amount of goons grew as she neared the lawyer. It slowed her down quite a bit, and she was beginning to dread the fact that she might have to shoot and then dispose of one without being seen. If it took much longer to reach the top, Rachel would be the one waiting to kill her.
When Brian had asked why they couldn't just drop her on the roof, Bruce had pointed out that even with the black equipment and outfits, they would still be visible. Chris would have his men from three floors on the roof to nail them in seconds. If they could just appear, it would greatly improve their chances.
The elevator was another no –no. Apparently it hadn't been functional for quite some time, and when it had been, lights indicated the floors being passed. Any idiot could have seen their approach that way, so working or not it was off the table.
The last set of steps came into view and her thighs burned terribly. Jasmine wanted to strangle Jack for pooh-poohing her repelling suggestion. It would have taken a fraction of the time and agony. She really should have worked out harder at Marty's.
A sleepy guard in the dumb clown mask shuffled by, and a stanza from her favorite poem came to mind.
Black and white, scars at night
Where the truth is hard to fight,
Darkness shows your deepest fright,
Nothing there, barely light,
Black and white, another night.
She should have asked Bruce to get night vision goggles from Fox.
There were a lot of things she should have done, Jasmine thought as she slid into a patch of shadows near the stairs.
A text flashed on the screen as she reached the door to the roof. Jack was back with her dad, and gave her the all clear to go out.
As quickly as silence would allow, she darted out and closed the door behind her. An air conditioning unit was nearest, and she pressed against it, giving her legs a brief rest. The map showed Rachel's position about halfway down one side, towards the left of where she was.
"Come on, Bruce," she muttered.
A few minutes later a text from the masked flyer told her to prep, the way would be clear in fifty seconds.
Jasmine pulled the duffle down, and removed the parts for two lightweight riffles. They were designed by Fox for these kinds of situations, mostly heavy duty metal substitutes that would withstand the heat and recoil the force of the bullets exploding out would create. She snapped the barrels to the bodies, and the bodies to the stocks. Loading them with the elongated clips, she slung one on each arm and pulled out the charge from the side of the bag.
Returning to the door, she attached the timer and tripwire, setting the plastic explosives along the bottom of the door. Any unwanted arrivals wouldn't get far.
Her screen flashed, the all-clear.
Checking her arsenal one last time, she gripped the guns close and ran to where Rachel was supposed to be. Thankfully, Jack had given her the right place, and the lawyer was there with a big man in purple.
"Never thought you'd get here!" He yelled cheerfully. He sounded so much like Jack she nearly tripped. He wore the rubber mask, though, not paint. He pointed his cheap handgun at the woman's head, holding her collar tightly so she couldn't move. "Your move, lady cop!"
"I thought you'd use a knife, it being so much more satisfying and all." Jasmine stalled, allowing her eyes to un-focus enough for her peripheral vision to work cleanly. Where was it?
He laughed a really annoying laugh, high and rough. It was tempting to bring her weapons up, but she was committed to the plan now. "That's Jack's weapon of choice, honey. Guess what? I know you planted this one for me to get, how bland! Oh, come on, you can do better than that. Can't ol' baby brother come skin me himself? He wants to, he should. It should be a family affair."
"It will be if the public gets wind of who the real Joker is. What about your family then, Chris?"
He just shrugged. "They're big kids; they can play on their own." A smile crossed his face under the mask. "What about you? Who do you run back to, to hide behind?"
"My cat."
He howled for no good reason. She sighed and shot a dirty look in the general direction of where Jack would be.
Brian was watching through the field glasses. He couldn't hear, but could guess, that what Chris was saying would be senseless and irritating. Jasmine's hands twitched around the rifle grips, and he couldn't help but smile at the sign of irritation. It was getting close to five in the morning, and no one had slept.
"See the snake yet?" Alfred inquired, even voiced.
"Nope." Brian lowered the binoculars to glance at the butler. "You've done this before, haven't you?"
"Often, when I worked as an intelligence officer. Spy, if you'd rather."
Nodding, Richards turned back to get a better look at Rachel. "Jack, radio Batman and let him know the package is safe. Doesn't even look scuffed."
Jack set down the knife he was polishing, relayed the information, and returned to his task. He was sitting abnormally still, all things considered.
After about five minutes, Brian snapped his fingers. "Hey, hey, there he is, he's walking up the roof."
Sending word to Batman, they gathered to watch. Jack nudged Brian. "Get the charges online. We won't have time later."
The sunlight was just beginning to break behind them.
Chris was ready to pull the trigger. Jasmine let him do the talking; knowing a blink at the wrong second would end it for Rachel.
"So, how's that for a crummy life?" He finished grandly.
"A perfect example of imperfection," she said evenly and he beamed at her through the mask.
"I'm board, so say bye-bye pretty eyes," he chirped into Rachel's ear. "You'll go out with a bang, I promise."
There was the promised bang, more than one in fact. It was Chris who fell over, not Rachel.
Jasmine flicked the switch on the guns from Semi-auto to full, and held the triggers down. In three seconds, a group of four mobsters crashed to the ground. She let go, and the bullets stopped.
Without waiting, she gripped Rachel's arm and pulled her up. "I'm really sorry, but you're going to have to jump."
"WHAT!?"
"Batman's there, so jump already!" Giving her a shove that sent her staggering to the edge, Jasmine returned to Chris' body. More Mobsters came around the power units, and she sent a few blasts at them. The Joker's men tried to open the door, but the blast sent them back below.
When no one else tried to come at her, Jasmine pulled a make-up kit from her pocket, and then took off Chris' mask and suit. She traded it with some other dead goons, switching any identifying papers or items as well. She painted the strangers face with the kit. White first, black eyes, red lips.
"Did you really think spreading that tempting little virus would catch both of us?" A familiar voice asked. The young detective hesitated for the space of a heartbeat, and then continued with her work. Zeke continued.
"Chris would have rolled over, but by then you would have all been dead and we would have been gone. Well entrenched in our sister cities, where no one could ever find us. Poor Rachel nearly died for nothing."
"You know perfectly well I wouldn't have let that happen." She replied evenly.
"I know perfectly well you think you wouldn't have." He paced closer, hands in his pockets. "Either way, I couldn't let Chris live on the off chance he'd convince the right people. When are you going to learn that the only right is what you create for yourself each moment?"
Black and White, Scars at Night.
Jasmine smiled grimly, ignoring his voice as it went on. "Do you think Jack's little ploy to clear his brother's name will work? Chris' family won't see a dime, Jack can't go out in public, and what will you gain by taking me in? Peace of mind?"
"I still have my dad and any friends who count. You can't claim that much." She challenged, putting one of the riffles into Chris' hand and pressing his fingers around the cleaned handle and trigger.
He snorted. "Look where that's gotten you. You can't walk out any more than I can."
Black and White, Scars at Night.
Jasmine glanced over her shoulder at the rising sun. She gave three clear nods as she stood. "There is right and wrong, good and evil. You choose it, and I know you can tell the difference. You used to love us, until the cost of your fun hurt. Remember what happened when I came to you for help, Uncle Zeke?" She leveled the riffle.
He smirked. "You aren't going to shoot me with your dad watching across the way."
"I will if I have to. Neither of us is leaving this roof, Zeke."
The implication of her words hit home as the first bomb blew. His face went pale, and he froze.
Black and White, Scars at Night.
The second, third blasts went before the supporting areas started to give out. Turning to run, Zeke only made it as far as the second line of power and air units. The riffle spat, and he fell.
Gold and red light burst over Gotham in brilliant, cloudless glory.
Brian had been watching through the glasses. Jack had given him the signal to start the timer on the charges. It would be about ten minutes before it set off, he thought, enough time for Jasmine to clear Zeke off the roof.
Just as that thought crossed his mind, the first explosion growled through the morning. When he recovered from the shock and returned his gaze to the roof, Zeke had already fallen, and Jasmine was facing them, riffle resting on her hip.
"Stop the charges, Jack! Stop them now!" He screamed in panic.
"And now?" He challenged.
"I've got you on my side."
He softened, but didn't relent. "I should have picked up when you called."
"It's okay."
The hideous chuckle of flames joined with the roar of bombs, the screeching of the falling building. He dropped the binoculars, reaching out for his daughter. Why didn't she reach back? More words returned to his mind.
"I should have been there when everything blew up in your face."
"Look, Dad,"
"I'll be there next time, princess.I promise."
"I know you will, Daddy."
He burst into sobs as Jack grabbed him and held him, calling for Alfred to help. He had been about to jump towards Jasmine.
"I love you, no matter what."
She smiled, and this one started in her eyes. "I love you too, Dad."
"I'm proud of you, princess.I want you to know that."
"I know."
She stood there, a confidant smile on her lips. She had been the bait all along, not Rachel. She had made her choice.
"I'm sorry, Brian," Jack whispered in his ear. "She made me promise to hold you back. I'm so sorry."
By the time police, fire and rescue, EMTs, and volunteer emergency workers had arrived; the top three floors had collapsed in a rain of fire and debris.