Seated across from Black Mask was Grifter, a seasoned gun-for-hire brought in specifically to handle the Red Hood problem.
"There's talk going around," Grifter said evenly, his tone unreadable behind his mask, "that you were the one who set up Joker's escape from Arkham Asylum. Any truth to that?"
'Why the hell does he care?' Black Mask bristled inwardly. 'Who does this bastard think he is? Does he even understand who he's sitting across from?'
He immediately considered shutting the question down. As the employer, he decided what was shared and what stayed buried. Information was power—and he didn't hand out power freely. If he wanted the mercenary focused on the job, then that was all the man needed to know.
The carved skull fixed in its perpetual scowl tilted slightly as he prepared to assert that authority. But before he could speak, Grifter interrupted.
"Don't bother dodging it," he said calmly. "If it's true, I need to know. The truth could help me anticipate the target's reaction to your actions. And anticipating problems is how I keep you alive." That caught him off guard.
'How the hell did he read me that quickly?' Black Mask wondered, studying the mercenary more carefully now. 'Maybe he really is a professional… or maybe he's just another kind of freak.'
He locked into the stare anyway, refusing to yield an inch. It would've felt like a staring contest between the two—if not for the fact that Grifter's eyes were hidden behind that damn mask, giving away absolutely nothing.
After steadying himself and weighing his options, he decided the truth was the only viable move. At this point, his survival hinged almost entirely on Grifter's competence.
"I didn't have a choice," he began, his voice unsettlingly composed—stripped of its usual irritation and venom.
Across the room, Li paused at her desk. Her fingers stilled over the keyboard as she lifted her eyes from the glow of her laptop to study Black Mask. He drew in a long breath, the kind a man takes before confessing to something irreversible, and began recounting the truth about the Joker incident.
From where she sat, the entire exchange felt less like a strategic briefing and more like an impromptu therapy session for her employer.
"Start from the beginning," Grifter said evenly. "The reports claim Red Hood killed Joker. And somehow, Red Hood ends up on that bridge? That's no coincidence." It was a question Black Mask had been dreading.
Li shot him a brief look before returning her attention to the screen, though her focus clearly wasn't on the data anymore.
"I knew freeing that maniac would come back to bite me," Black Mask admitted.
"But I was cornered. That red-helmeted psychopath had already slaughtered several mercenaries I hired to keep him off my back. I needed a counterweight—something unpredictable, something vicious. The clown fit the bill. His dark and chaotic creativity, his twisted imagination… It could serve as a weapon. One I intended to use." He paused as his jaw tightened. "I just knew there'd be consequences. I just didn't expect them that fast."
He refilled his glass without a word, the steady motion of his hand betraying none of the tension tightening his shoulders. If he kept his composure, if he laid everything out clearly, maybe they could piece together how Red Hood had learned about the Joker breakout, or why he spared his life and went after Joker instead.
"That psycho actually agreed to work with you?" Grifter asked, leaning forward slightly.
"Everyone's got a price," Black Mask replied. "Even that deranged freak." His jaw flexed as irritation seeped into his tone. "He agreed to help me eliminate Red Hood, in exchange for his freedom."
He scoffed bitterly. "Didn't even last ten minutes. The moment we sealed the deal, he turned on me and nearly barbequed me alive."
From her desk, Li caught the subtle omission—no mention of her or the others who had been trapped in that vehicle with him. But she wasn't surprised. Self-preservation had always been his dominant trait.
"Get to the part where Red Hood arrived," Grifter cut in, uninterested in Joker's theatrics. Beyond simple curiosity, he was trying to understand why Red Hood had chosen to kill Joker instead of finishing the job on Black Mask, especially after relentlessly hunting him.
"That bastard hogtied me and soaked me in gasoline," Black Mask snapped, anger creeping into his voice as the memory resurfaced. "The way he looked at me… the way he laughed while flicking that lighter—" He swallowed hard. "I still see it when I try to sleep."
He exhaled sharply. "And if that wasn't enough, I am haunted by the idea of waking up later with a gun pressed to my skull by Red Hood himself? That kind of paranoia doesn't just fade. I haven't had a full night's rest since."
Catching himself veering off course, he forced his tone back under control and continued with the details his mercenary bodyguard was actually waiting for.
"Can't tell if it was dumb luck or some sick punchline," Black Mask muttered. "But that red-bat freak shot the lighter right out of the clown's hand and knocked him away from us." His grip tightened around the glass. "Before he disappeared, he said I owed him one."
He let out a dry laugh. "I felt nauseous… humiliated. But I was alive. Saved from burning to death, by him of all people."
"Is that everything?" Grifter asked with a leveled voice, though the intensity behind his mask tightened.
"That's it. A second later I heard another gunshot. Next thing I knew, our wrecked vehicle was swarming with cops."
Grifter folded his arms, thinking it through. "It's possible he didn't shoot you because you were drenched in gasoline. Or maybe he left you alive for another reason."
"Or he bolted because of the sirens," Black Mask countered. "Outnumbered, no time to juggle me, Joker, and half the GCPD. So he grabbed the bigger prize." His eyes darkened. "Maybe he decided to finish what Batman never would."
Grifter went quiet at that, weighing the angle. Then another possibility surfaced. "What if Joker was the objective from the start? Not you. You were just… collateral."
Black Mask stroked his chin slowly, drink hovering in his hand. "He acts as a vigilante, doesn't he? Unlike Batman, he's not shackled by rules. If he wanted to make a statement, going after Joker makes sense. The clown was a larger predator than me—more chaotic, even more dangerous."
"For now, we don't have enough to draw a firm conclusion," Grifter said. "But let's consider the possibility. If he manipulated the situation just to get close to Joker…" His tone hardened slightly.
"Then he might be more clever than the erratic personality he presents himself to be, if he somehow managed to manipulate you into bringing him the clown."
Black Mask's arm froze mid-motion, the rim of his glass suspended inches from his mouth.
He barked out a short laugh and set the glass down with a dull clink.
"Someone that reckless isn't some grand strategist," he scoffed. "And I made that call myself. There's no way he could've predicted I'd turn to a lunatic like Joker instead of hiring competent players from the underworld. That was my decision."
Grifter gave a slow, measured nod. That explanation held more weight than the idea of Black Mask being maneuvered like a pawn. If manipulation really had been involved, then Red Hood was operating on a level far more calculating and far more dangerous, than he'd shown so far.
With no concrete answers to extract and no clear motive to pin down, Grifter shifted gears. It was time to establish terms.
"I understand you're used to running things your way," he said evenly. "But as your personal security, there will be adjustments. Procedures I'll enforce. If I give an instruction, you follow it. Even if it's a down play on your ego, there should be no resistance. It's about keeping you alive, your ego won't help you with that."
At her desk, Li couldn't help the brief glance she shot their way. Hearing someone tell her boss—directly, without hesitation—to take orders was almost surreal.
Black Mask arched a brow, his right eye twitching faintly as irritation flared. Who the hell did this guy think he was? Was clearly written on his expression.
Then reality settled in. Grifter wasn't an underling. He was hired protection. And if staying breathing meant swallowing a bit of pride and following directives, then so be it.
He drew in a slow breath, forcing the irritation down.
"As long as it keeps me alive, I can live with that," he said evenly. "But don't push it." He warned.
"Good." Grifter didn't waste time. There was something that had been bothering him since the second he walked into the office.
"I shouldn't have to explain why that window is a liability." He tilted his chin toward the massive pane of glass stretching behind Black Mask's desk. "You're practically inviting a sniper to take a clean shot."
Black Mask resisted the urge to glance back. "I've considered that. If he wanted me dead from a distance, he would've done it by now." Even as he said it, a cold thread of unease tightened in his gut. Still, his voice remained steady.
He had already planned to reinforce the glass. Now he would simply frame it as complying with his bodyguard's recommendation.
Grifter studied him for a moment. "If that's true, then he's not interested in a distant kill." He leaned back slightly in his chair. "Which means he wants it up close and personal."
Black Mask reclined as well, steepling his fingers. "Then that works in our favor," he said, masking his unease with confidence.
"Up close, we can prepare for him." Grifter added.
- - -
Over the past couple of days and nights, I've stalked and observed Black Mask in preparation for a fun hunt. But Batman and my annoying brothers are keeping tabs on him at night as if they were protecting him from the shadows. Protecting him from me.
Yeah, that's right…I've got one heck of a nosy family.
If I were to engage him, I might end up having to also deal with them. Yes, I could snip him, but that would be boring. It'd eliminate the thrill and suspensive relationship I have built between Black Mask and I. It's almost like courting him from the view point of a stalker.
I want to see the look in his eyes when he realizes that yes—he is about to die. Make him feel the dread of death just like how he felt on the bridge with Joker.
Ahh…the feel of delivering a similar treatment he has given to so many in the past would be quite ironic, the slow torture before death should make him feel like the karmic recoil of his past actions had come to bite him on the ass.
Looking through the scope of my sniper rifle, I spotted a masked weirdo in combat gear seated across Black Mask's desk. I see, he must be KGBeast's replacement, probably hired to protect that skull-faced scum while intending to hunt me—the hunter.
Either way, I plan to make my first move tonight. The appearance of that guy, who's probably a mercenary, does not change anything. I had expected him to make such a move.
Tonight was supposed to be my opening act to let Black Mask know I hadn't forgotten about him, then kidnap his ass before ending him.
But I can't make my move if those nosey brothers of mine are still mounting their posts. Don't these guys get tired of trying to interfere with my objectives?
It doesn't matter either way. Three nights of this and I've set a plan in motion to lure them away for me to do my thing, and get my hands on Black Mask.
What might my plan be, you may ask? Well it's quite simple, cause enough ruckus to pull them away.
How? You might ask. Well, that's easy, with this detonator of mine which it's meant to activate two bombs strapped to the sides of a highway.
A little ruckus caused by a not-so-big of an explosion, but enough to lure those boys away.
Let's see whether Batman and his boys prioritize civilian safety over meddling in my affairs.
With a non-hesitant push of the button.
Boom.
The blast rolled through the night, a sharp concussion followed by a rising column of smoke. Even from my vantage point, I could hear it—the symphony of a chaotic night. Screeching tires. Crunching metal. A chorus of horns blaring in panicked frustration as vehicles collide and pile up.
Right on cue, Night Wing and Robin reached for their coms as if listening to orders from Batman—obviously.
They rushed towards the scene, leaping from rooftop to rooftop.
We can finally get this party started.
With a quick change of position to a closer vantage point, I unbuckled a case and loaded an RPG.
Through the scope, I could se Black Mask and his new masked companion. They must be having quite the conversation, they're still talking.
Well… it would be rude to interrupt without announcing myself first.
Wouldn't want Black Mask and his new guard getting blown away without realizing who sent their regards. How about a little scare to indicate the count down for the final moments of Roman Sionis.
But my sweet Li is still in there, might as well get her out before launching an RPG into her office. Just because I used her doesn't mean I don't have feelings for her, might as well not get my name up the list of the most horrible boyfriends in history.