Gotham's Finest (closed)

[The_J0k3R]

Tommy Quinn was in WAY over his head. What had started out as a short little sting operation had sucked the undercover Gotham City Police Officer deep into the Falcone Mob's ring of guns, drugs, and prostitution.

He had been the perfect candidate for the job, of course. He hadn't grown up in Gotham, only coming to the GCPD with a recommendation from his older sister, who had already been on the force there a few years while he was still in San Francisco finishing college.

He had quickly proved to his superiors that he had the balls, and the skills, to handle rough situations. And the willingness to do whatever it took to get the job done... even if sometimes that meant going above and beyond the purview of what he was legally allowed to do.

It had been easy for him to infiltrate the mob, and make a name for himself, as he gathered data and evidence to take them down. But it didn't take long at all for him to start really enjoying all the benefits the lifestyle afforded him as he moved up the ranks. After a year, he started feeding bad info to his superiors at GCPD. Some six months later, he was AWOL. He had his own crew, his own territory. He managed shipments and sales, security and sluts, payoffs and bribes. At this point he was all behind the scenes, operating out of a warehouse complex on the south side of the city. Through a series of front shell companies, he owned a whole city block, including the warehouse, a bar, a strip club, a hotel and an apartment building, and his territory extended for several city blocks in every direction.

He operated from the shadows. Few people really knew he even existed anymore. He didn't have an office. And he enjoyed, fully, the fruits of his labors, particularly the women... and the drugs. But rven as he carved out his little criminal kingdom for himself, though, he remembered why he was there: to take down the mob. The pieces were soon all coming together...

 

[Harl3yQuinn]

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[The_J0k3R]

Mardi Gras. Fat Tuesday. The parade and festivities would keep most of Gotham's beat cops pretty well occupied on the other side of the city, which made it an ideal night for the Falcone Crime Syndicate to meet. Lilly Isley went about the Naughty Nights Gentlemen's Club, sprucing up the Mardi Gras decorations, watering the plants as she went. Strands of ivy crawled up faux-Greek pedestals throughout the smoky, dimly-lit club. Even in the afternoon, the place was dark.

Lilly, or "Ivy" as many of the patrons called her, for the strands of ivy tattooed up her arms and across the backs of her shoulders, perked up a bit when she saw Harleen enter the club.

"Heya Harley," she said, sauntering over to her and giving her a little hip-to-hip bump. "Gonna be a big night. Mister Crane said there would be a lot of big-wigs in here later. Hope they tip well!"

*****

"Cobblepott, what in the fuck have you been doing?" Tommy roared in frustration at his squirming lieutenant. "I oughta strangle you where you sit you worthless hook-nosed motherfucking piece of shit!"

"Boss! It wasn't my fault! The neighborhood dried up! Nobody wants the good stuff no more!" Oswald Cobblepott shook in his seat, terrified of his boss's wrath. Tommy took a deep breath and looked over at the young man next to him in the back of the sedan.

"You better find some fresh customers then," Tommy growled, "and quick. If Falcone finds out, I'll have no choice but to toss you in the river. Even a fucking penguin like you won't be able to swim with concrete boots on. Now get the fuck out of here!"

"But, but, Boss-"

Tommy wasted no time in raining his anger down upon Cobblepott's head in a flurry of blows, even cracking the glass window with the poor man's head before opening the door and shoving him out onto the sidewalk. Passersby stepped over and around him. "Get me my money, Oswald," Tommy hissed, before slamming the door shut. The sedan's tires squeeled as the car pulled away. Oswald Cobblepott watched it speed off, seething with anger and indignation before picking himself up and shaking his rattled, beaten head.

 

[Harl3yQuinn]

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[The_J0k3R]

Tommy tapped a few pills out of a canister, threw them into his mouth, and washed them down with a shot of whiskey as he sat in the back seat of the sedan. He snorted; the cocaine coursed through his bloodstream. It always seemed no matter how much he did, how high he got, he never lost his focus, his cunning.

Tonight was a big night, after all. Plenty reason for celebration. He snickered, and chuckled, and then laughed, knowing what he had in store for these mere common criminals.

He would be the Boss soon enough.

The sedan came to a stop in front of the Naughty Nights, and Tommy gleefully hopped out and looked around. His long blond curls whipped across his face with the wind as his piercing gaze took in his surroundings. Just another dirty Gotham block. The neon sign above illuminated the road. He nodded to his driver, and the car pulled away as he adjusted the lapels on his suit and headed into the club.

One of Sal Maroni's thugs was just inside the door. "Well, well, well," Tommy said, pulling open his suit to show he had no weapons on him. The thug patted him down anyway, and a moment later Tommy was through into the smoky club.

He was a bit early, but that was on purpose. For one, he needed an alibi when the first parts of his plan were set in motion. And for two, he wanted to see what Falcone's girls had to offer. There was one big main stage in the middle of the club, and a number of smaller stages around the edges, and most of them had girls dancing on them. The patrons were all thugs Tommy recognized to some degree; it didn't take him long at all to spot the various bosses.

He was the only one who had shown up without an entourage. He wasn't scared.

A few songs went by; Tommy got a stiff drink from the bar and made his way to one of the side stages. The meeting would start at midnight, some three hours from now. Plenty of time to enjoy the local Mardi Gras festivities.

He sniffed again. A remnant bit of coke in his nose sailed up and hit his bloodstream, and the whole club came alive before his eyes...

 

[zydrate]

............

 

[Harl3yQuinn]

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[The_J0k3R]

Tommy sat there, entranced by the buxom blonde harlequin girl dancing on stage before him. She was perfect in every sense of the word. He had had plenty of women since starting this undercover life of crime, of course, but something about this one just called to him.

She was hauntingly familiar, as if from a dream. His eyes drank her in from her high heels up to her blonde pigtails, and he found himself peeling money off his wad of cash to leave on the stage every time she sauntered and danced past him.

A dance in a private room was in order, he decided, as he watched her come off the stage. His piercing gaze followed her as she walked through the room, and he stood up and headed towards her, coming up next to her as she was bent over a table, flirting with one of the Sullivan boys.

"I'll have the next dance," he declared, holding out a hundred dollar bill in both hands in front of him, a devilish grin spreading across his face.

 

[Harl3yQuinn]

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[The_J0k3R]

Tommy followed along, his eyes taking in everything along the way. Noting the locations of the various bosses, big and small, their henchmen, and especially the people he didn't recognize. It was easy enough to tell the random patrons from the hired heavies.

Seemed he wasn't the only one who had something big planned for the night.

He followed the Harlequin girl into a dark back room, stepping inside and looking around as she shut the door behind him. It was lavishly decorated, with a matching leather sofa and chair as well as a dancing pole on a small stage. Tommy plopped down on the sofa and grabbed the coffee table, pulling it over to him and promptly pulling out a baggie filled with a white powder and dumping some of it on the table. He slapped another hundred down next to it.

That devilish grin spread across his face again. "Wanna bump?" he asked her. "This is the really good shit. Oh, and get fucking naked and in my lap."

 

[Harl3yQuinn]

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[The_J0k3R]

Tommy snatched the other hundred dollar bill back up and glowered at her, snorting some of the coke off the table as she started the music and the lights went down. He leaned back and enjoyed the vision of her curvy body moving to the beat... and then her ass was rubbing into his crotch.

He felt the blood rush to his cock as she ground herself against him. Something about her struck him as terribly familiar, but he couldn't quite place it. He snorted, the coke rushing through his system, and he didn't even think before his hands found a grasp on her hips and pushed her down against him. "That's it..." he said, smirking as his hips moved up to grind himself into her.

Her refusal of the coke definitely raised a red flag for him though. Falcone's girls tended to party hard. She couldn't be a cop, could she? A plant? Or maybe Falcone had instructed the girls to not get too crazy tonight.

He was beginning to suspect something was up...

Either way, he was going to fully enjoy himself.

 

[Harl3yQuinn]

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[The_J0k3R]

"Oh, I'm here on business tonight," he told her. "But first comes pleasure."

She had turned around in his lap, and was now grinding herself right back onto him, her abundant tits rubbing into his face. He salivated, licking his lips as his grip slid possessively up her sides and his hands found her large firm breasts, and he happily squeezed them together onto his face and shook his head back and forth, motorboating away, slathering her deep cleavage with his spit!

"Fuck yeah," he groaned, "that's a good little slut," he said, pulling back his face, lost in the presence of her tits for the moment.

"You know, you'd make a great addition at my club. You want me to talk to Falcone about a little transfer? He owes me a favor you know..."

His cock was throbbing beneath her as he continued to play with her tits...

 

[Harl3yQuinn]

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[The_J0k3R]

"Whatever you make here, you'll double it with me," Tommy promised her. "If you've got what it takes, of course," he said, nodding once again towards the coke on the table and holding up that hundred dollar bill again.

He watched her intently; she was thinking about it. She bit her lip as she did, which was when revelation struck Tommy like a runaway train.

Under all the festive make-up, this stripper was his older sister!

His COP older sister! His heart raced. He couldn't let on that he knew. Not yet. She was undercover just like him. How had he missed it? It was too late to back out.

"You don't want Falcone to think you're turning down money, do you?" Tommy asked her with a smirk, nodding towards that camera tucked away in the corner...

 

[Harl3yQuinn]

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[The_J0k3R]

Tommy watched his sister rail the offered lines of cocaine and then casually saunter off, declaring that she "wasn't interested" in his offer. He scowled after her.

This bit of information changed everything, of course. Surely she had recognized him. But was she counting on him not recognizing her? Her costume had concealed her identity from him, her own brother, for a while, after all. He hadn't let on that he knew who she was.

But her presence altered his plans in a number of ways.

He snorted some more of the potent coke, and then scooped what remained back into a baggie and pocketed it before leaving the private room. He would have to keep an eye on Harleen...

*****

Bruce Wayne, billionaire playboy, crown prince of Gotham, had never really quite recovered from the shock of seeing his parents murdered in a back alley at such a young age. As much as he tried to sate his anger with martial arts training, he still succumbed to the beautiful numbness offered by drink, drugs, and women.

All things which brought him to the Naughty Nights on this Mardi Gras...

 

[Harl3yQuinn]

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[The_J0k3R]

Tommy returned to the club, noting that two of his men had arrived. A simple nod was all the communication that was necessary there. He had other business to attend to. He scanned the crowd, ignoring the girls for the moment, until he saw a rear door open and Jonathan Crane emerge.

Tommy caught Crane's eye, who nodded towards the bar, and Tommy met him there. Drinks were promptly delivered. "Everything is in place," Crane said, and Tommy nodded, producing a key from the inside pocket of his jacket and slipping it to the Doctor.

"Perfect," Tommy replied. Crane looked around, a bit nervously. Tommy scowled at him. "Don't fucking worry about a thing, Crane."

It was then that one of the girls came over to Crane in a huff, an angry glare in her eye.

"Stacy, what's the matter?" Crane asked. He was the club's Manager. She looked at Tommy and then leaned forward to speak quietly in Crane's ear.

The Doctor's eyes grew dark. "Where is she now?"

"She just took Bruce Wayne into a private room..."

 

[Harl3yQuinn]

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[The_J0k3R]

Jonathan Crane was about to order one of his bouncers to go get Harleen, but Tommy stopped him, nodding towards the door that Stacy had come out of. She was glowering and angry, and stomped off in a huff.

Which was when Harvey Dent, one of Gotham's premier city prosecutors, stepped out of that private room, looking around in anger as he buckled his belt. Tommy's eyes narrowed.

"There's no time, Crane," Tommy hissed. Harvey was pulling out a cell phone, punching a number into it, raising it to his ear.

"We've got a rat to flush out first," Crane insisted, yanking his arm away from Tommy's grasp.

"I'll take care of her," Tommy insisted, eyes locked with Crane's. Crane hesitated, but nodded. Tommy looked around, counting in his head. All of Gotham's crime families were accounted for. "Now, Crane!" Tommy demanded, and stood up.

Crane nodded. "She's in room 13," he said to Tommy. He wore a radio communicator on his ear. He pressed the button and issued a single, simple command: "Code 666"

Tommy casually strolled across the strip club, making his way to room 13. He nodded to each of his men in the club, who got up and moved to their pre-planned positions.

Harvey Dent, however, was threatening to ruin it all. He was causing a scene. Actually making a good distraction, really. "Where is she?" he was demanding, looking around, moving from private room to private room and throwing open the doors. Numerous thugs were getting up and following after him.

Harvey beat him to Room 13, however, and threw open the door. "Harleen!" he yelled!

 

[Harl3yQuinn]

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[The_J0k3R]

Tommy looked around; the commotion Harvey was causing was perfect. Just perfect.

He couldn't have planned it better himself. He reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone, and with a quick, deft few swipes across the screen, was sending a message to one of his cronies.

That's when he heard the all-too-familiar sound of a fist smashing against flesh, just barely audible to his ears from the other side of the wall. Harleen's cry was also all-too-familiar to him.

His drugged out mind went into a rage. Harvey had hit his sister! He rushed past the throng of gangsters, shoving one aside before coming up on Harvey Dent and jumping on his back, tackling him to the ground and beating into his face with his fists.

A moment later, he was being pulled off Harvey, and Harvey was being yanked up as well, and then they were being tossed out of the room towards a stage...

And that's when the schoolbus smashed through the entryway, and shots rang out.

 

[Harl3yQuinn]

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