Hostage strapped to the back of my motorcycle, pieces of duct tape stuck over his handsome face, I pull up to the Warehouse— Red and the Joker’s home, also my occasional hangout. Outside, the Warehouse looks like nothing more than a rundown building— the effects of quite a few computer monitors, paint, and the Joker’s constant exploding of things. The security here is tight, but you wouldn’t be able to tell.
I pull Dmitri from his seat, his humble self being unconscious by now, and throw him over my back. He’s rather light for a Russian. Gun in one hand, Dmitri’s legs in the other, I head toward the Warehouse doors and walk into a giant empty space, aside from some bikes covered by tarps and some empty cardboard boxes. I wave at Red’s million security cameras, smirk on my face.
“We’ve got a guest!” I say, then I find the secret door which opens up to my fingerprint to reveal a long corridor with a maze of hallways. I turn left, right, then left again until I’ve reached the internal door. Red changes the route once a week— twice if we have visitors. Once at the door, I stick out my tongue and press it against the tongue monitor. It scans my tongue, then cleans itself, then opens two metallic doors to reveal yet one more hallway. This one, however, isn’t a phony. The doors slide closed behind me with a slight popping noise.
That’s when I hear it. “Oh Mistah J! I’ve missed you so much!”
“Fuck.” I murmur, then I take Mr. Dmitri to one of our guest rooms and throw him on the bed, not gently, then reload my Akdal Ghost TR-01. Turkish. Sleek. A gift from the Turkish ambassador to yours truly in order to win my affections. Locking the door behind me, I slip the key into my bra and march toward the living room toward Harley’s voice.
Before I arrive, however, Red pops out of one of the rooms [our inside shooting range], and attacks me with a giant hug. Thankfully, the Akdal was still on safety, or I would’ve shot her.
“Why didn’t you tell me she was here?” I growl, arms stiff as a board and unresponsive to her affectionate hug.
“Because I knew you’d be angry…” She smiles innocently, then nods toward the guest room with the prisoner. “He’s cute.”
“He’s also the Russian ambassador. Asshole. I know we diplomats are supposed to love everyone, but he’s an asshole.”
“I also thought your nickname was the polite criminal…?”
“I’m being polite.”
She rolls her eyes. “Come on, then.”
“I can’t go in there. I’ll be sick.” I turn to go to my room and I see the Joker leaning on the wall at the end of the hallway where it lets out to the living room. He smooths his hair back, a sensual grin on his face. “Why hello beautiful,” He says.
“Shut up.” I sneer.
“OooOohooO! Fiesty, are we?”
“You want fiesty?” I raise my eyebrows, “I’ll show you fiesty.” Then I raise the Ghost in line with his face.
He lets out a maniacal cackle. “Shoot me! Go on!”
BANG. BANG BANG BANG.
“Just let me shoot you, damn it!”
BANG. BANG. All fifteen rounds. He dodges each shot.
“You bastard!” I shout, flipping him off.
“Mistah J, you’re so braaaaave.” Sings Harley Quinn, appearing around the corner, hanging onto his muscular shoulder.
“Oh, hello Harley.” I smile sweetly, then attempt to shoot her in the face, forgetting I’ve already used all the bullets. She’s doesn’t notice my attempt on her life because she’s too busy giving googly eyes to my Joker. Did I just say my? I meant the. The Joker. We’re just friends…
Rolling my eyes, I toss the Ghost to Red and slip into my room. It’s got the only window in the whole Warehouse— neatly concealed by one of Red’s computer programs. I’m claustrophobic, so she had it installed or else I’d go batshit crazy…er.
Behind me, I hear Harley giggling, then planting a noisy kiss on the Joker’s cheek. “I’ve gotta go, Mistah J. I’m sure I’ll be around later!”
I settle down, curling up on my bed, lay there for a little while just staring at the ceiling, then decide to go to the knife throwing range. Before I can motivate myself to get up, Red pops her head in the door, grinning wickedly. “Meet me on West Main. Half an hour.”
I cast her a questioning glance, but she disappears before I can ask her anything. To West Main it is then. I suppose I should clean up my appearance…