The Great Escape
Dec. 25th, 2007 05:22 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
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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."
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."
no subject
Date: 2008-01-02 10:23 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-02 10:54 pm (UTC)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."
no subject
Date: 2008-01-03 06:02 am (UTC)She doesn't know what to do with his apology, so it hangs there in the air for a minute. Not asked for, but not accepted, either.
"What do you want to do?" she asks Harvey.
no subject
Date: 2008-01-03 08:31 am (UTC)"End Thorne."
no subject
Date: 2008-01-03 09:31 am (UTC)"How?"
no subject
Date: 2008-01-03 07:48 pm (UTC)"There are ways. The question is whether or not you want a part of it, or whether you wish to retain your precarious notion that you are a 'good person' maintaining the moral high ground."
no subject
Date: 2008-01-04 08:16 am (UTC)But it's a precarious notion, indeed. He probably knows that. Harvey was certainly around Sonia long enough to learn at least some of her tells.
He might, for example, notice that she's biting the inside of her lip right now as she scowls at the road ahead. She's not sure where to go.
He's certainly right in that he'll just go back to Arkham if she turns him in now. Whatever it is he's pulled to get out would probably be enough. And Two-Face aside, she owes Harvey more than that.
Still, it's only a matter of time before someone makes the connection between Harvey and herself. There's no clean way out of this situation. Fuck.
no subject
Date: 2008-01-04 09:54 am (UTC)For a moment, as the car turns a corner.
"Can you honestly say you haven't thought of killing Thorne? Dreamt of it, even... only to wake up angry that he still sucks air?"
no subject
Date: 2008-01-04 10:18 pm (UTC)Killing Thorne. She's clung to the belief that there's a better way, but none of those ways have exactly worked out yet.
"You know I can't," she says. "It's not that simple. You know that, too."
no subject
Date: 2008-01-04 10:32 pm (UTC)A glance to the rearview.
"What's stopping you?"
no subject
Date: 2008-01-05 12:40 am (UTC)Kind of a non-answer, that.
no subject
Date: 2008-01-05 12:47 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-05 01:25 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-05 07:55 pm (UTC)For a moment, he wishes Lawton had brought him some cigarettes.
"You don't want to become Thorne in the process of destroying him."
no subject
Date: 2008-01-06 05:01 am (UTC)"Killing him doesn't end the problem," she says. "You off one crime lord, another will take his place. Not to mention after your little self-serving moment of glory is over, Batman will find you, beat the shit out of you, and toss you back into Arkham."
She turns a corner, a little sharply.
"Just because your way is easier doesn't make it better."
no subject
Date: 2008-01-06 06:09 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-06 08:29 am (UTC)There's not really a point if his operation doesn't come down with him."
Why is she even having this conversation?
"Exactly how do you plan on managing that without exposing yourself in the process? And me, since you've made me part of this now - thanks for that, by the way. I was just thinking that the only thing better than being wanted by a fucking crime lord would be also being wanted by the police."
no subject
Date: 2008-01-06 04:33 pm (UTC)"Harv spoke so highly of your character. I didn't expect you to be the 'love 'em and leave 'em to rot' type. Especially since you can't claim Montoya's excuse."
no subject
Date: 2008-01-06 06:25 pm (UTC)"Fuck you," Is the immediate response. "The Harvey I know wouldn't pull this on me. He's the reason I haven't turned you in already. And you do not get to guilt-trip the person driving your goddamn getaway car."
no subject
Date: 2008-01-06 06:36 pm (UTC)Unshaken by her curse.
"Which means my words are carrying the weight of truth."
no subject
Date: 2008-01-06 09:05 pm (UTC)"Fine, you off Thorne. What do you plan on doing to make sure no one takes over his operation? Or had you not thought that far ahead? Do you even care about getting sent back to Arkham again?"
no subject
Date: 2008-01-06 10:32 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2008-01-08 12:15 am (UTC)Of course, Sonia recalls a time when Two-Face had his own place in Gotham's organized crime networks. She's not so much afraid of becoming Thorne in the process of destroying him as she is of him becoming Thorne.
"You try to do that by taking it over and I swear, I'll put on the batsuit and bring you down myself. Harvey or no Harvey, I don't work with crime lords."
no subject
Date: 2008-01-10 10:42 pm (UTC)Then a shake of his head. "Crimelords. It's more trouble than it's worth. And besides, I can see the allure of what the D.A. has been using as his mantra. Embrace the gray. Embrace the gray."
Watching the Joker fall into his own blood again, as his thumb strokes the handle of his gun.
"The world is gray."
no subject
Date: 2008-01-10 11:59 pm (UTC)She runs a hand through her hair and sighs.
"I really don't like you right now."
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