2013.10.04 - Dance With the Devil in the Pale Moonlight

The news has been abuzz of late of the recent breakout and subsequent crime spree of the notorious psychotic criminal, The Joker. Gotham is never safe, but that always seems to weigh heavier on the minds of the citizens when the Clown Prince of Crime escapes from Arkham yet again.
Especially when he pulls a 'prank' like the one last night...
Scituate, Gotham.
At this time of night, all the dealers and ne'er-do-well were out and roaming the streets, most of them in their regular positions on the street corners. The cops couldn't touch them and they knew it -- most of them didn't even want to. Both belonged to the local crime syndicates, which of course, only made things worse. Even rival gangs didn't dare come this far into Falcone territory. Which made these few individuals safe from all but the worst -- or best -- that Gotham had to offer: The Batman and his foes.
At exactly midnight, one of their meth labs went up in flames. Then another.
Then another.
It didn't stop until one in the morning.
Present day
Scituate, Gotham
The word went out, rumor had it the boys from Crime Alley were making a move, that they were behind all the destruction, and that they were wheeling in the big guns, tonight, for some good ol' fashioned carnage. Naturally, the Scituate gangs wouldn't stand for any of that nonsense and they're out in force, enforcers on every corner, drug dealers antsier than usual... Everyone's packing. And waiting for the spark to ignite the fire.
What they don't know is that the same thing went down up in North Gotham, and the reverse story was fed to them by some 'trustworthy contacts,' and now the Crime Alley boys are all stuffed into SUV after SUV, rolling out to hand down some good old fashioned revenge on Scituate.
The question is... What's the real story?
Huntress doesn't spend much time in Crime Alley, it's WAY too close to the Bat and his ilk (even if that snarky little Batkid is at least kind of all right), and she's got enough to deal with around Little Italy and with trying to track down more intel on Mandragora. But, when something as big as Scituate happens, even she can't ignore it. 
Having ventured into Scituate just barely far enough to conceal her motorcycle and take to the rooftops, Huntress watches the SUVs getting loaded with people and munitions, and can't help but getting a sinking feeling in her gut. This is BIG. There's no way she can do anything about this by herself.
Black and red. They compliment each other. Emphasize each other. The red stands out from the black like eyes glowing in the shadows, and the flowing red that trails into black is like gushing blood that ends in that final darkness that all lives reach one day. Aside from the symbolism and visual impact, one might not think that matching red with black would work so well for stealth purposes. But a figure coasts from one rooftop to another with great leathery 'wings' spread wide, blood-red hair flying behind her, and she remains unnoticed. Quiet footsteps, finding the right objects to hide behind, knowing when to stay still and hold her breath and when to move... Sometimes it's only with good fortune and expert timing that unexpected janitors who thought they heard a noise or suspicious guards just checking on that one room wind up not spotting her.
But Batwoman has gotten pretty good at this by now. The colors don't matter as long as she retains her awareness, thinks things through, and uses her skills and training to best effect. And right now she is looking into one of the meth labs that was destroyed. Something about this seems off. She only heard about it happening today, but after consulting her information on the criminal activities in Gotham (and a map) it looked like there were more fires at drug labs than there should have been if it was all Scituate -- unless they spread their influence further than she had up-to-date info on. She doubted that, but she still needed evidence. And it would make sense if the Crime Alley syndicate had conducted these attacks due to territorial issues.
So here she is, in Scituate territory, checking one of the labs closest to Crime Alley territory. Stepping out of the darkness surrounding one of the recent fires part-way, a red so vibrant one wouldn't think it could hide in the shadows cascades around a pair of dead-white slit-eyes, and the lower half of a face as pale as a corpse's.
Then she sweeps through the site, keeping an eye out for anyone left to destroy evidence or guard the fire-gutted remains of the structure, and simply... Searches. What kind of accelerant was used to start this fire? Are there any odd pieces of material that seem out of place? Are there chemical traces? Footprints? Human remains? Batwoman wants answers.
Once every SUV is packed to the brim with automatic weapons and the gangsters who are to wield them, they all take off in a line, one massive convoy rolling down the street towards Southern Gotham. The main man, the one running the whole expedition, is somewhere to the rear, third SUV from the end, stuffed into the back with two other gorillas in suits. Lights are pretty much disregarded, and enough of these death parades have gone through Gotham's streets that the citizen drivers know exactly what to do -- stop.
Meanwhile, back in Scituate, word's coming in from a few runners that Crime Alley's convoy is on the move, and tension is running high. The few guards that were posted on the burnt out meth labs dart off to some other post, almost at the exact same moment that Batwoman discreetly enters. Her search turns up quite a few clues, stuff that the GCPD probably would have picked up on had they been allowed to investigate...
The accelerant was a simple gasoline and alcohol mix. The chemicals at work in the labs took over from there, torching the entire floor in seconds. As for materials -- Everything seems to be the normal, run of the mill ingredients for cooking meth... Except a burnt out playing card in the corner, devoid of any of it's fellow deck mates. What it was before the fire? Lost to the ages. Amongst the debris, it's clear more than a few people were caught in the blaze, one of whom appears to have been wearing a motorized set of dentures, encrusted in blood.
Huntress thinks lots of very loud cusswords as the convoy starts out, and scrambles to catch up. They've got to take at least one turn to get to where they're going, and with any luck she'll be able to use that to her advantage. Another thing that helps is now that they're under way they might not be as aware of her presence as she tries to slow their progress with a few flat tires. Using her limited supply of grappling line quarrels and her crossbow as little as possible, she parkour/rooftop hops as fast as she dares to overtake the line of SUVs. The fact that they're ignoring traffic lights does NOT help.
She's not a walking forensic lab, but Batwoman does have various high-tech gadgets that she can use to gather evidence, make analyses on the spot, and so on. As she makes her way through the ruins, the smell is pungent and indicative of the accelerant used. The burnt humans remains show not everyone made it out in time... But were they dead beforehand? Casings would help figure that out, but she doesn't have all night to dig through the ashes, the flame-licked timbers, and do a full analysis of every body. But at the point where she finds the playing card, she immediately has a suspicion. Sure, maybe it's just a playing card. Guards play cards when they're bored. When she finds the messed up chattering teeth, with blood on them, her suspicion becomes too strong to discount or explain way -- not that she's in the habit of doing such anyway. She's not someone trying to discount the strange or unusual. She's trying to find the facts and arrive at the correct conclusion to minimize or prevent the loss of life.
And while she can't discount the possibility that someone else is behind this... Well, the news, word on the street, and these thematic objects that really have little plausible reason to be here and yet are strongly associated with a certain villain leave her to come to the conclusion that the one behind the fires is probably not the Crime Alley syndicate. Infact, it's very likely that murderous mastermind is the notorious HARLEY QUINN!
...Or the Joker. She just had a run in with Quinn a few weeks back at city hall with an incendiary explosive, is all, so her name kind of jumped to mind. But no, this looks a lot better planned than Harley would be able or likely to manage alone, and the Joker did just escape. So she tucks the teeth and card into a compartment of her belt and then melds back into the shadows -- heading towards her own motorcycle. She has to get to Crime Alley syndicate territory quick-like and confirm her findings. Also, maybe warning the gangs involved that this was a set-up could forestall any violent retribution, but she's not as close to where that's going to be happening as a certain other vigilante right now.
It's close, and most likely, the SUVs gain a bit of ground on the roof bound Huntress as she scurries along in pursuit. A group like this, they've usually got a guy or two assigned to watch the buildings for sign of the Bat, but knowing what they're going in to, they're too amped up to even focus. For a time, it's probably all she can do to catch up, but eventually they hit a light they can't run... Too much traffic. Going through it would be suicide and nobody seems to want to stop for the murder convoy. It might be all she needs to get ahead of them.
Back in Scituate, the crazy seems to have spread. The gangs, of course, have been gathering, more and more armed thugs showing up at every corner. However, as the Crime Alley boys get closer, the guns seem to be doubling as ambush corners are located and secured, cars cart in a few more enforcers every couple of minutes, and amongst the flurry, one man stands out. He barks orders here and there, mingling with his men, and checking 'fortifications.' As he moves past one alley, he stops, glancing back over his shoulder. Was that a flash of light? A giggle?
Before it even begins, it's over. A water balloon is hurled from the dark shadows and crashes into his face, bursting as it comes to a stop and releasing a torrent of green acid. The lieutenant collapses with blood curdling screams rising from his mutilated throat, his 'soldiers' pulling guns to fire blindly into the alley...
GOD it's about time. Huntress stops on a rooftop catty corner from where the convoy's finally had to wait for a traffic light, regretting that her endurance is still not back to normal. She allows herself only a few seconds to catch her breath, then pulls her crossbow and fires four quarrels in as many seconds, aiming for the driver's side rear tires on the first four SUVs in the convoy. Then she immediately rushes to cross to another rooftop or two so she hopefully take out a few more tires before the light turns green. At the very least those first four might keep them still for a few more moments.
Jynn has been watching for the last few days, things have been getting a bit out of hand. MOre gang activity then normal and the parents have been keeping their kids from coming to the Rec Center which honestly made everyone worry. Those kids who did make it weren't allowed to stay, only things that were going on were tutoring and some of the small clinics. But now enough was enough, a few fires have been seen and even Jynn figured out what was going on. So tonight he is out, jacket and everything ready to go, his guns holstered but in a way no one would be able to notice that he is armed.
Coming out to Sucitate Jynn scans the area, noticing a few of the gang members and the men issuing orders, but also he begins looking around to see how everyone is situated, keeping his presence in the background, as well as trying to get an accurate count and see who's paying attentiong and who isn't.
As Huntress takes out the lead cars' tires, the cars in back begin to panic. They try backing out, but communication right now is minimal and few of them can organize well enough to make a retreat. General concensus for those who actually know what's happening is that they're being ambushed by the Bat, but so far there's been no sign of the Caped Crusader.
That's when things go /really/ pear-shaped. Several cars eventually pull out of the convoy and attempt to move forward, including the SUV with the Man-in-Charge. Just as they cut through into the empty intersection, a truck horn roars out. An eighteen wheeler with a massive, and sloppy red grin spray-painted on the side and a makeshift ram welded to the front plows through a row of cars waiting at the light and barrels straight into the side of the convoy, taking out two SUVs with one shot. As the whole thing skids to a sliding stop, the driver's side door is kicked open and out hops none other than the Joker. In one hand is a massive revolver, and the other? A can of gasoline. "Oops... Sorry 'bout that. Didn't see you. Hey, hey..." He dashes over to the side of the flipped over SUV, peering in through the windshield as clown-masked goons hop on out of the back of the truck. "Are you guys alright?!"
Someone inside takes a potshot at the Clown and he peddles backwards, aiming his revolver back towards the shooter and firing a loud shot with a giggle. "He's alive! ... Or, well... He was. HAHAHAHAAHAHA!"
Back in Scituate, the blocks seem fairly well locked down, every corner bearing half a dozen men, at least one of which is armed with a shotgun or automatic weapon while the rest wield handguns. The streets themselves seem to be constantly patrolled, and every once in awhile a man with some heavy rifle or automatic sits at a window, peering out. Everyone's antsy and looking like a cornered rat, waiting for the convoy on the streets and the Dark Knight on the roof, but so far... All's quiet.
At least, everywhere that's not the previously mentioned alley. By now, the lieutenant's been dragged away, but it's clear there's nothing to be done. He's as good as dead. His attacker, on the other hand, is still alive and kicking. Gunfire pours into and out of the ambush alley, with the Scituate gang taking the worst of it. Only three shooters of theirs remain, while, based on the bullets being slugged from the other side, at least five still breathe from the attackers.
Huntress is aiming to take out a couple more SUV tires when that painted truck comes barrelling right into the convoy, taking out at least two vehicles. "Holy shit!" Falling back away from the edge of her current rooftop, she takes a few seconds to mentally panic, then shakes herself out of it and reloads her crossbow with wooden bolts. She takes a deep breath, then starts firing at the goons accompanying the Joker below. And, you know, if one bolt happens toward the leader of this insane clown posse while she's at it, so be it. 
At the same time, she's tapping at the little comm unit in her ear. "HAL. God, I hope you're listening. there's some serious shit going on here. Looks like an entire contingent of Falcone's crew is about to get smeared all over Broad Street by the Joker and a bunch of HIS goons. I'm pretty sure I have a snowball's chance in Visuvius of getting out of this in one piece, so, yeah. Help. Like, now."
'Shit.' Jynn sees this is bad. Most of the people he did know he really didn't have a way to get in touch with them. Also the cops would be very hard pressed to handle this much firepower, and knowing if he called it in, his parents would be high tailing it out here just to support him. Checking his vest, Jynn sighs adn moves through the shadows, moving quickly and quietly looking to get the drop on one of the corners that least heavily armed.
It's then that he hears automatic gunfire. Eye brows raising, Jynn shakes his head, he has to do something or innocent people will be getting hurt or possibly killed tonight. As he moves into position, he takes note of the snipers and holds for a time, hoping that the gunfire that is nearby draws their attention to give him the opprotunity he needs to start taking these guys out.
The automatic fire in South Gotham has attracted more than a few interested parties who are quickly convering on the alleyway, sniper positions, however, are held as the men manning them try to scope out the situation from a distance as is their job, of course. However, the gunfire is slowing, until finally, it suddenly ends. The attackers have won, the gang's men dead or bleeding out as reenforcements are still half a minute away. When they arrive, the alley is empty... Empty except for a single Joker card pinned to a bomb...
Five seconds later, Scituate gang is in tatters as the majority of their fighting force has been shot or blown away. People about screaming, their building burning as the fire from the bomb spreads. Chaos reigns in South Gotham tonight...
Back at the ambush site in North Gotham...
As the goons find themselves peppered with wooden bolts -- and actual gunfire from Falcone's men -- they... spread out? Rather than taking cover, they all duck, dodge, and dive their way over to each car, firing all out with military grade assault rifles as the Joker stands in the midst of the chaos, laughing his head off and firing the occasional round towards the firefight, caring little if he misses, hits his target, or even takes out his own men. He peers into every window he arrives at, only choosing his targets if they've been cleared out by his own men, until finally... "Boss! I found 'im."
The Clown skips his way over to the singled out SUV and peers in, spotting the leader with a massive grin. "Well if it isn't the man of the hour, the head hancho himself. Tony 'The Weasel' Abatangelo. Can I call you Weasel? I feel like we're friends." The Joker thugs drag the man from his car as the gunfire rages on around them, one taking a shot in the shoulder while another fills in for him. The Joker giggles and shoves his revolver up under the man's chin, tipping his head back as he looks him in the eye. "Tony, Tony, Tony, Tony, Tony, To/nay/, Tonytonytony."
"You're a dead man, Clown."
"Me? What? Why?! Because of this? Aww, come on. I'm just stirrin' up some fun. No harm, done, right? The end of the day, what's a few more dead gangsters, huh? I mean you were shippin' them off to die in South Gotham anyway, weren't you? I'm just... Pushing up the schedule a bit. I'm a busy man, Tony. Can't wait all day, you know."
"You're nuts."
Now /that/, -Tony-... That's something we can agree on. Heheehehaahaha!"
The Joker unstops the gasoline can and starts drenching Tony in the liquid, giggling over the man's screams of rage and curses. When it's empty, he chucks the can off to the side and pulls a cigar from his breast pocket, sniffing along the length. "Mmm. I do envy you, Tony. This... This here is a damn good cigar." With a bit of a muffled snicker, he shoves it into the man's mouth with a bit of help from the Joker thugs who proceed to keep his mouth clamped around it. With one last laugh, the Clown pulls out a match and strikes it, dramatically lighting up the cigar and then hopping back quickly to escape the resulting inferno... Which never comes. Everyone looks confused, except for Tony who looks relieved. Then, with sudden realization, The Joker snaps his fingers. "Of course, I almost forgot." He promptly flicks the lit match onto Tony and begins to walk away, back towards his truck as the thugs fallback.
HAHAHHAHAAAHAAHAHAAHAHAHAAHAHAHAH!!"
"Ohmygod." Yes, the guy might be a head honcho type in the mafia, but NO ONE deserves to burn alive. She hastily pulls the last remaining bolt from her crossbow and replaces it with a single canister type quarrel -- her only one of this type. Don't fuck up this shot, H, it's your only shot. Taking a second to aim and catch her breath, she fires the quarrel at the man now on fire, praying to whatever higher power might be listening that her aim is true and the fire supressant contained in the projectile is able to douse the flames quickly.
The fire supressant bolt does, in fact, put out Tony 'The Weasel,' but the damage is already done. He's covered from head to toe in third degree burns, and there's no guarantee that hospital would even be able to save him at this point. His men rush to his side as the Joker Truck squeels out into traffic, swerving left and right as the Clown makes his getaway and the police begin to converge...
Seeing the fire go out, Huntress breathes a sigh of relief, but then that truck starts to move again. "SHIT." Hastily loading another quarrel, she fires it off after the truck, with no real hope that it actually hit. But if it did, she's just managed to plan a tracker on the hideous vehicle.
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