Seated on her desk as Black Mask's secretary, Li half-listened to her employer's conversation with his newly hired mercenary bodyguard while continuing to sort through files on her tablet. She kept her expression neutral with composed posture, the picture of professionalism—even as tension from the past week lingered in her shoulders.
Her phone suddenly lit up against the polished wood, vibrating with a soft ringtone.
She glanced down and saw Randy's name on the screen. It had been a while since they'd properly talked. Between the fallout from the Joker incident and the chaos that followed, she'd barely had time to breathe, let alone maintain her personal life.
Normally, she would've silenced the call and promised to return it later, but she has already turned down a few of his attempts to meet up, and ignoring him again might start to seem like she was avoiding him.
Also, she could do with some good back cracking—a good dick-down should help her relieve her pent up stress, so she picked up the phone and excused herself from the office.
She moved down the corridor, heels clicking softly against the polished floor, putting distance between herself and the guards stationed outside the office. Only when she was certain she was out of earshot did she accept the call.
"Hey, cupcake. I was starting to think you weren't gonna pick up." Jason's voice slid through the speaker, it carried a warm and amused tone.
"I'm at work," she replied evenly, though she kept walking until she found a quieter stretch of hallway. "I needed somewhere private to take a personal call. Too many curious eyes around here."
"I get it," Jason said. "You've been buried in work. No complaints from me. Honestly? I kind of like the whole professional office-lady vibe you've got going on." He paused just long enough to soften his tone. "But I've missed you."
The words caught her off guard. Li wasn't accustomed to open affection—certainly not directed at her. Her pulse quickened as she searched for an appropriate response, something that didn't sound awkward or overly stiff. Flirting wasn't exactly her strength. In the end, she settled for honesty.
"I've missed you too," she said quietly, pressing the phone closer to her ear. She leaned against the wall, angling her face so her hair would conceal the faint blush warming her cheeks.
Jason chuckled softly. "I can hear it, you know. Your voice goes up a little when you're flustered. You're blushing right now, aren't you?"
Li's gaze flicked subtly around the hallway, instinctively checking that no one was watching—not the guards, not even the security camera mounted in the corner ahead.
"Tell you what," Jason continued smoothly. "How about a date night at your place on Christmas, if you don't have other plans? You won't be working that night, right?"
He chose the date carefully, two nights from now. If he succeeded in his plan to kill Black Mask, then Li shouldn't be too preoccupied with work since she would be the new boss.
- - -
Only minutes after Li had stepped out into the hallway to take her call, her lover stood positioned on a nearby rooftop, an RPG resting casually against his shoulder. With his other hand, he raised a pistol fitted with a suppressor and took aim at the office window of Black Mask.
From his angle—roughly sixty degrees off-center—he calculated the shot which wasn't meant to be a direct hit. The suppressed round struck the glass in a controlled graze rather than a direct impact.
It didn't shatter the window, but the force left a deep dent at the point of contact, fractures splintering outward in thin, jagged lines like a spiderweb spreading across the surface.
Inside, Black Mask had been mid-conversation with Grifter, detailing the elaborate precautions surrounding his safehouse—how he ordered his driver to weave through Gotham with unnecessary detours, switching vehicles in different parking structures before ever approaching the location.
The sharp, abrupt crack against the glass cut him off.
Both men turned toward the window at the same instant.
"What was that?" Black Mask demanded, staring at the fractured pattern etched into the pane.
"Was that a damn bird… or a bullet?" Black Mask muttered, already edging away from the fractured window.
Grifter stepped closer, studying the impact point with a professional eye. "Not a bird," he said calmly. "And if it were a 9mm round from a proper rifle, it would've punched clean through. This…?" He tilted his head slightly.
Black Mask moved in beside him despite his nerves, peering at the line indentation in the reinforced glass. The mark looked like something had brushed the surface rather than struck it head-on. Thin cracks spread outward in delicate arcs.
Grifter's gaze shifted from the pane, scanning the surrounding rooftops as he tried to trace the angle of the shot. His arm came up instinctively, pressing against Black Mask's chest to hold him back. The crime lord didn't argue this time. He stepped behind his hired gun, following the direction of his eyes.
They checked the right side first—nothing.
Then the left.
A figure stood on a nearby rooftop, framed against the night sky. A red helmet. A relaxed posture, and with an RPG resting on his shoulder. The masked man lifted one hand and gave them a slow, almost cheerful wave.
Black Mask felt his stomach drop. His eyes widened behind the black skull.
"Run!" Grifter barked.
They spun toward the door.
Outside, on the rooftop, Red Hood was still on a call with Li, planning a date as he watched them scramble.
"Okay then," Li's voice came softly through the line. "It's a date."
The confirmation settled warmly in his chest.
He pulled the trigger.
The rocket tore forward, shattering through the already weakened glass and streaking across the office in a blur of smoke and fire on its tail.
Inside, Grifter reacted instantly. He tackled Black Mask to the ground and kicked the central couch over in one fluid motion, dragging his employer behind it just as the missile detonated.
The explosion boomed through the room, blasting a crater into the far wall. The guards stationed by the door were hurled aside like rag dolls, swallowed by dust and debris.
Down the hallway, Li staggered as the shockwave ripped through the corridor. The phone nearly slipped from her hand. She spun around, her heart hammering as she stared towards the source of the blast in disbelief.
Before she could process what had happened, Black Mask and his mercenary emerged through the jagged hole blown into the office wall, coughing through smoke and crushing debris beneath their feet.
"Run!" he shouted again.
They bolted toward the elevators, jabbing the call button repeatedly. It wasn't responsive as the system had stalled.
"The stairs," Grifter snapped, grabbing Black Mask by the arm and hauling him toward the emergency exit.
They burst through the stairwell door and began descending rapidly—
Just as another rocket struck.
The second explosion rattled the building, sending tremors through the stairwell as concrete cracked from the explosion and alarms began to blare.
Grifter lunged at Black Mask and drove him to the floor just as the stairwell door was ripped from its hinges by the blast. The heavy steel door hurtled inward, its edge slamming into the wall exactly where Black Mask's head had been a second earlier.
Black Mask's face was alsmost drained of color. He lifted a trembling hand to his neck, rubbing at the skin as he swallowed hard, vividly imagining how close he'd come to being decapitated.
Grifter caught the look in his eyes—the paralysis that gripped him from the creeping shock. Li stood a few steps back, equally stunned.
"Move," Grifter snapped, grabbing both of them by the arms. "We have to go. Now."
He took point, pulling them down the stairwell toward the underground parking level. As they descended, soles pounding against concrete, he realized those weren't wild shots.
Red Hood hadn't fired blindly.
He must know the building's layout, he was even able to mess with the elevator to foil their immediate escape.
He'd even timed the second strike, estimating how long it would take them to reach each point.
'He's done his homework,' Grifter realized grimly.
They ignored the chaos unfolding around them—employees screaming, crowding uselessly around dead elevator doors while others abandoned hope and rushed for the stairwell as the air felt suffocatingly thick with dust and panic.
By the time they burst into the underground parking lot, Roman was breathing harder than he had in years, his expensive shoes slapping against concrete as other workers scrambled to their cars.
Li steered Grifter and Black Mask toward his vehicle, where the driver was already waiting, with engine idling. He shoved his employer inside, then turned as Li moved to follow.
He stopped her with a firm hand. "He's the target," Grifter said quickly. "No need to put you in the line of fire riding with us."
Inside the car, Black Mask barked at the driver to move.
Li hesitated only a second before nodding in understanding. Grifter slipped into the vehicle after his boss.
"Good," he muttered, glancing at the chaos in the rearview mirror. "Multiple cars are pulling out. That works in our favor."
His tone was calm, meant to steady Roman's fraying nerves. But in his mind, he knew if Red Hood had truely done his homework—he would recognize their vehicle.
And Grifter intended to use that to lure him out of the shadows.
They would follow the usual protocol—detours through Gotham, then a vehicle swap in an underground lot. Somewhere along that route, he would draw Red Hood in and engage him on his terms.
The car shot out of the garage and onto the street.
Behind the red helmet, a slow smirk formed as Red Hood gave chase from above.
He didn't pursue them head-on. Instead, he moved with restraint—leaping from rooftop to rooftop while maintaining enough distance to stay invisible. There was no urgency in his stride. He would let the car reveal its route first, then cut ahead using parallel streets and elevated vantage points, keeping a close chase while concealing himself from exposure
A grappling hook fired with a muted thwip, the cable going taut as he swung cleanly between buildings. He traveled above their projected path, adjusting course as needed, careful to remain out of sight.
Below, the vehicle weaved through Gotham in deliberate detours. At one point they even merged onto the highway, likely hoping the open stretch—free of rooftops and cover—would force him into view if he were trailing them.
But the skyline remained empty.
"Any sign of that piece of shit?" Black Mask demanded, twisting in his seat while Grifter kept watch through the rear window.
Grifter scanned the traffic carefully. Headlights. Sedans. A delivery truck. Nothing unusual. No bike. No armored vigilante. No red helmet.
"No sign," he replied after another sweep. "Doesn't look like he's chasing."
Black Mask exhaled shakily.
"That doesn't mean we're safe," Grifter added with a steady voice. "Don't ease up yet."
They exited the highway shortly after, the driver looping through a calculated semicircle as part of the escape pattern before finally steering toward an underground parking structure beneath a residential apartment complex.
This was the next step in the protocol.
The vehicle swap.
The car rolled to a stop a short distance from the replacement vehicle. Its driver stepped out immediately and hurried around to open the rear door, head lowered with tensed posture as he waited for his employer.
Black Mask and Grifter exited and started toward the second car—
"I'm really starting to get bored of this little game of hide and seek we keep playing."
The modulated voice echoed across the concrete structure.
Both men snapped their heads toward the source—just in time to see Red Hood step into view. His twin pistols were already raised.
Muzzle flashes burst in rapid succession.
The sharp cracks of gunfire ricocheted through the parking garage.
Grifter reacted instantly, shifting to shield Black Mask—but not before a round tore into Roman's lap.
"Agh—!"
"Ahh, you bastard—!" The crime lord collapsed with a choked cry.
Grifter himself absorbed the next hits: one punching into his arm, another grazing along his ribs, a third biting into his thigh. He staggered but held his footing, dragging Black Mask behind the open car door for cover.
He leaned out and returned fire, controlled bursts forcing Red Hood to pivot and slide behind a thick concrete pillar as bullets chipped and sparked against it.
"Move!" Grifter barked, shoving Black Mask into the back seat.
The driver attempted to scramble inside from the opposite side—
A single shot rang out.
The round struck clean through his head. He dropped instantly, body crumpling onto the concrete as dark blood spread beneath him, pooling across the floor like violent street art painted in fresh crimson.
The driver of the first vehicle remained inside, slouched low in his seat so it appeared abandoned from a distance.
"You need to get out of here. Now," Grifter ordered sharply.
Black Mask nodded through gritted teeth, pain radiating from the bullet lodged in his lap. But one thought cut through the haze. "What about you?" he demanded, realizing he was about to be seperated from his hired gun.
"I'm doing what you hired me for," Grifter replied without hesitation.
He slammed the door shut and leaned out, firing controlled cover shots as Red Hood answered in kind.
Grifter dove forward, turning the dive into a shoulder roll that carried him behind the rear of the vehicle, giving him a tighter angle on Red Hood's position.
Inside the car, Black Mask forced himself over the console and into the driver's seat, his movements were clumsy from both pain and adrenaline.
Across the garage, Red Hood advanced at an unhurried pace, firing with two shots which rang out the instant Black Mask grabbed the steering wheel.
The bullets tore straight through the windshield, one ripping into his arm, the other continuing through the rear windshield in a near-impossible line aimed at Grifter's head.
"Ahh! You bastard!" Black Mask screamed, dropping lower behind the dashboard as blood slicked his sleeve.
Behind the vehicle, Grifter jerked aside just in time, narrowly avoiding the round that shot toward him like a trick shot.