The Great Escape

[wrist-magnum.livejournal.com]

Arkham Asylum
Ten minutes until midnight.

Floyd left the car at the access road. Pulled it behind some scrub brush that the grounds crew still hadn't cleared out. Typical. The laziness of the Arkham employees was one of the main reasons that the place had a revolving door on it. Inmates danced in and out, seemingly at will.

One was going to tonight.

Floyd crept from the car to a point between the rear loading gate and the wall outside of what, if his memory was correct, was the cell of Dumfree Tweed. The severe threat block was deeper inside the monolithic building, containing all sorts of walking nightmares, when they were at home, that was. Joker. Killer Croc. Mr. Zsasz. John Dee, the human skeleton called Dr. Destiny. He was one of the only ones in Arkham who actually spooked Floyd, deep down, with his ability to reach one spidery hand into your head and claw out your nightmares.

He didn't have the current duty rosters. Didn't have the current floorplan. So, if they'd changed things substantially since the last time he'd been inside, there could be trouble. Best to have a distraction, and a plan. Because the moment the shooting started, he'd have about 7 minutes at best before the Bat, or one of his people, showed up to respond.

Whoever he sent, Floyd just hoped it wasn't the Huntress, or that kid. He couldn't shoot a kid. Wouldn't shoot Huntress.

Anyone else? Fair game. They walked into his sights, they'd better know a good orthopedic surgeon. Maybe that chick at S.T.A.R. who always rebuilt Vic Stone.

He checked the loads in the wrist magnums, left, then right. Right hand contained a clip of ezpolsive-tipped shells. Left hand contained rubber bullets. No kill shots with the left, unless they were point blank. Right hand was to blow a way out when everything shook loose.

Time to party.

Twenty steps to the loading gate. Duck beneath the camera, wait for it to swivel left. He crossed the twenty steps in time to miss the revolution of the camera and pressed the buzzer twice, the signal for a prisoner drop-off, counting on the guard shift to simply pop the door.

They didn't disappoint.

He aimed low, coming in rolling, and shot twice, one rubber bullet into each kneecap, the new silencers working like a charm. A buzz like a particularly quick flying mosquito, and another, and the two guards were clutching their knees, rolling on the concrete.

"Shh," was all he said, pulling the mask into place, and slipping a blackjack from his belt. Two swings and the guards on back-door duty were out like a busted Crime Alley streetlight. He had about ten minutes before the roaming guard made his way back to the door on his usual rounds. Just enough time to lug these lumps into a supply closet.

He had to fire three more times before making his way to the block containing Harvey Dent. Nothing lethal. If he got popped again, he had enough murders on his jacket to make sure that Zoe wouldn't ever see him again, unless it was through plate glass before they popped a needle into his arm. He wasn't going to be taken alive. Noah had instructions, and the keys to his Cayman accounts, to make sure Zoe was set up for life should anything happen.

He wasn't going to be looking out of the inside of one of these cells again, that much was certain.

He reached Harvey's cell without incident, sliding the prepped security card he'd recieved in one of his mail drops from the Calculator.

"Counselor," he said. "Your ride's here. I figure we're about two minutes from an appearance by somebody we don't want to see. Clock's ticking."

Comments

[bigbadharv.livejournal.com]

Deadshot may or may not have heard the story, but when Harvey Dent rises from his bed, the scarred face is present once again, a new development.

He's dressed in the standard Arkham inmate uniform, neutral colors.

"Few quick stops to make on the way, but we won't linger."

[wrist-magnum.livejournal.com]

Deadshot (never Floyd in the costume, not really.) stepped back into the hall, one gun pointed in each direction.

"Stay behind me, Counselor. Costume's bulletproof, and insulated in case they break out the tazers."

[bigbadharv.livejournal.com]

Harvey obeys the mercenary.

As they work their way down the halls, Harvey stops to enter a code - how he knows it, who knows - on the Riddler's cell.

"Merry Christmas, Edward."

[wrist-magnum.livejournal.com]

Deadshot covers both sides of the hall as Harvey opens the cell door. He lets up to the left side for a moment, long enough to pull a pistol from the holster at his hip, and pass it to Harvey.

"In case we get seperated," he said. "Gonna need one hell of a distraction to make it out of here before the Bats show up."

[eddie-nygma.livejournal.com]

"Always a pleasure, Mr. Dent. Are we springing anyone else, or is it just the four of us?"

The Riddler is ready to go - bowler and all.

[bigbadharv.livejournal.com]

Riddler's question is answered by Harvey's approach to Ivy's cell and subsequent unlocking.

"Au contraire, Deadshot. The plan is to get separated. The Bat can't chase us all."

Then, a turn to Floyd. "I've got business with the Clown before I go. Clear a path and make some noise outside if you can."

[wrist-magnum.livejournal.com]

"Got a couple ideas about that. Ride's parked fifty yards outside the back gate. Spare key's in the front wheel well. If you leave me here, I'll find you Harvey."

Deadshot leaves them there, and heads for the front gate.

[eddie-nygma.livejournal.com]

"I'm quite content to part ways - some of my associates are waiting for me nearby. Extend my gratitude to Calculator and Mr. Lawton, Harvey. And give my regards to the Joker."

The Riddler tips his hat to Two-Face.

[wrist-magnum.livejournal.com]

Two explosions are heard from the front of the building (http://community.livejournal.com/jla_watchtower/1261641.html).

[ivy-lady.livejournal.com]

Ivy had been distracted by the ball which showed possibilities and was thrown into a deeper, darker cell. Solitary.

[bigbadharv.livejournal.com]

She'll hear the lock on the cell shift.

The door opens to a silhouette.

"Make it good, Dr. Isley."

[ivy-lady.livejournal.com]

Her eyes peek up and towards the light. "Oh...I will." She gets up and walks out, but not before turning to face her liberator.

[bigbadharv.livejournal.com]

"Africa. Like I told you. Treat them well. It's about time somebody did."

Then, he's off down the hall.

To pay a visit to the Clown, also in solitary.

[ivy-lady.livejournal.com]

The hardened eyes of the failed elemental cannot help but widen. Despite herself, she believed in Harvey Dent.

Which means there's a few things to do before Africa - starting with Chandler.

[bigbadharv.livejournal.com]

End of the hall.

The small window in the door slides open.

"Joker."

[jla-extras2.livejournal.com]

"Harvey!" comes the response, in a gleeful, warm tone.

"You're looking just peachy! My compliments to the butcher!"

[bigbadharv.livejournal.com]

BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! BLAM!

A few flecks of blood drip from the smoking barrel.

Not a comment.

Not a sound.

Two-Face turns and makes his way out of Arkham Asylum.

He will not be reuniting with Deadshot.

Instead, he's taking a less conspicuous escape route.

Once at the bottom of the hill, he heads toward the spot where he asked Sonia Alcana to wait for him. The D.A. hates him for that call, but Two-Face is in the driver's seat.

But Sonia will be his driver... if she's taken the risk.

[sonia-alcana.livejournal.com]

Sonia arrived just after sundown and has been waiting for hours, now. Every ten minutes or so she swears she's just going to give it another few minutes and then leave. Get some sleep.

She's glad her car is inconspicuous, at least.

She gazes out the window, impatient. Any time now, Harvey.

Of course, it would probably help if she had any idea what exactly she should be expecting.

[bigbadharv.livejournal.com]

The car shifts.

There's a new face in her passenger seat, and all she'll see is the newly scarred side.

It is not pretty.

[sonia-alcana.livejournal.com]

No, it's not.

She knew about the Joker's attack. She'd assumed that the next time she saw him, he would not look so much like the man she worked with. She knew what Two-Face looked like. She considered herself more or less prepared.

It's still a shock.

Jesus Christ.

"Harvey?"

God, she hopes she's dealing with Harvey right now.

[bigbadharv.livejournal.com]

His face turns slightly, and she'll see one eye silently screaming an apology.

The other is cold.

"I'd suggest you start driving."

[sonia-alcana.livejournal.com]

Well, shit.

She takes quick stock of the situation. Her ex-boss (who also happens to be her ex... whatever), freshly escaped from Arkham, sitting in her car. Message from him still stored on her answering machine. Half of Arkham probably on his tail, along with the Gotham police...

The Harvey she knew, she's sure, would not have put her in such a situation.

As the car peels away, she mentally kicks herself for not just staying in St. Roch with Roxy. Her voice remains even, though.

"I want to know exactly what the hell is going on, and I want to hear it from Harvey. Now."

[bigbadharv.livejournal.com]

Then, there's an explosion (http://community.livejournal.com/jla_watchtower/1261641.html) back up the hill at Arkham.

"The D.A. doesn't get to speak right now," comes the even response, in a voice lower than she's familiar with. "He's had his day, and it cost him his freedom and his illusion of sanity. It cost you your just revenge."

A clack as he reloads his gun.

"As usual, it falls to me to do things right."

[sonia-alcana.livejournal.com]

"The D.A. hired me, not you," Sonia snaps. "Him, I'll do things for. You are going to have a hard time convincing me to not just drop you off at the police station. I'm sure he'd understand."

[bigbadharv.livejournal.com]

"He'd only agree if they sent him to Blackgate. But look at your hero now. It would be right back to Arkham. You both know that."

The gun is held in his left hand, calmly resting against his knee.

His right hand pulls on his seat belt.

"I let him live his hallucination of a 'good life' long enough to let him prove himself wrong. Now it's my turn. It's only fair."

His eyes are focused on the windows and the mirrors, checking for anyone following them.

"And before you assume I am some kind of blight, ask yourself about the morality involved in having sex with an employee, and consider who it is you may have actually fuc-"

The right hand suddenly jerks upwards, but it's blocked at the wrist by the gun barrel. There's a moment where his teeth grit, and his face twitches while his arms seem to struggle against each other.

He may actually be trying to punch himself in the face.

Then, briefly, the voice she knows.

"Sonia, I'm sorry."