Harley Quinn Romance 3

Chapter 11: Going on the Offensive

Harley fidgeted in her chair as she listened to one of the city councilmen explain why Conglomerated Industries was going to get several government contracts previously awarded to Wayne Enterprises. With every word the man spoke, she wished even more she'd been able to bring her baseball bat.

"Conglomerated Industries offered us a better bid for the contracts," the councilman left of center explained, the old man's voice was a raspy whisper only audible because of the microphone on the desk in front of him. "In addition, their executives don't engage in questionable activities with the same regularity as others we could name."

Harley forgot about her baseball bat and started wishing for a rocket launcher.

A gavel slamming down three times ended the meeting. Gotham's city council were quick to exit the room, but one person lingered. Mr. Drexel, chosen representative or head lackey for Conglomerated Industries, took an inordinate amount of time putting away his papers in preparation for departure. He turned and, as if seeing Bruce and Harley for the first time, offered them a satisfied smile.

Harley thought about digging out some of Joker's laughing gas and showing that paper shuffling worm what a real smile looked like. Her happy thoughts were brought back to the present when Bruce touched a hand to her shoulder, and it was only then she realized he'd been talking to her.

"Huh?" she questioned.

"I said, I'm going back to Wayne Enterprises," Bruce repeated. "I'll have to explain things to the board of directors."

"They gonna cause trouble?" Harley asked.

"No," Bruce denied. "I own more than half of all company shares, so I am the company. My personal assets are more than all of theirs put together. I can keep the company going, even without those contracts, in a way no employee or shareholder will even know the difference. If the board has a problem with losing those contracts, they have sense enough not to challenge me."

Harley smiled. "My man." Her arms went around him in a quick hug.

"What about you?" Bruce queried.

"Oh, I'll find something to do," Harley mused, watching Mr. Drexel exit the room.

                                                                                     ***

Harley was tired of being on the defensive when it came to Drexel and his corporate overseers. She'd been running a few errands earlier and had arrived at the government building on her motorcycle rather than in the car with Bruce and Alfred, so she had her own mode of transportation for following the vermin back to his nest.

Drexel pulled out of the parking garage in a silver sports car, immediately accelerating to the full capability of the high end motor. Harley, several cars back from the guard shack at the exit of the parking garage, was delayed in getting out. Racing down the street, she tried to catch up, but the car had already made a turn and was out of sight. She didn't know which way it had gone.

Her phone rang, and she touched at button on the side of her helmet to activate the internal speakers and microphone. Her irritation at having lost her prey came through in her voice. "What?"

"Pardon me, Mistress Harley," Alfred's accented voice came through her wireless earpiece. "Master Bruce had me monitoring the security cameras, and I located Mr. Drexel's car in the garage."

"He already left," Harley informed him, checking each way as she drove through intersections, searching for her target.

"Indeed," Alfred went on, unruffled as ever. "Master Bruce also had me link to a WayneTech satellite observing traffic density in the area, and if you take a left on seventh street to reach the eastern highway, you should have a good chance of catching up with Mr. Drexel."

Harley laughed. "Alfred, you're the best!"

"Merely following orders, madam," Alfred countered.

"Well, give my Puddin' a big kiss from me," she replied, turning at the corner and heading toward the highway.

"I believe I shall leave that for you to do," Alfred responded.

Harley laughed again and took the on-ramp. Although she pushed the speed limit, she didn't go too far over it because she didn't want to draw the attention of the police and have them interfere, and she also didn't want to become overly noticeable to Drexel should he glance in the rear-view mirror.

Alfred provided her with additional guidance until she saw the silver car in front of her.

"I got him," Harley said.

"Very well, we're off," Alfred replied. "Good hunting."

Harley pressed the button on her helmet again to end the call. She stayed several cars back, enough to keep her target mostly in view while keeping herself partially obscured by the other vehicles around her. She kept a careful watch on the exits, and when she saw the silver car take one, she was able to follow without trouble.

The destination of the silver car was a corporate office building. Like most structures in Gotham, it was made of cold stone and lifeless gray concrete, gargoyles leering out from their various perches at the people walking or driving past. The few windows it possessed reflected the drab color of the overcast sky.

Harley didn't follow Drexel into the parking lot and risk being seen but instead pulled into a narrow alleyway. Only delivery vehicles and garbage trucks used the alley, so with the exception of the rats scurrying through the loose trash looking for dinner, Harley had the grime covered passageway to herself.

As she parked her bike, she looked through a chain link fence and over the low concrete wall of the corporate parking garage. A janitorial crew was collecting their equipment from the back of a van with their logo on the side. Harley waiting until they closed the van and headed into the main building before she made her move.

She walked along the chain link fence ringing the perimeter of the parking garage. Coils of razor wire along the top discouraged anyone trying to go over it. She looked closely, trying to see all the locations of security cameras. Although the cameras had excellent coverage, the cleaning van parked by the door had created a blind spot she could use. Heading around to the far side, Harley pulled out a small laser cutter. It was similar to one she carried as Batwoman, but Harley had enjoyed it so much the first time, she had Bruce make her a different one she could use without giving away her identity if discovered. Harley carried it nearly everywhere in the hopes an opportunity for its application would present itself.

She sliced through the chain link fence near the ground, where the waist high, exterior wall of the parking garage would block it from being seen by anyone passing by. She waited for the white hot ends of the metal to cool down before she slipped underneath what remained of the fence, rolled over the short wall, into the garage and up against the flank of the cleaning van.

The side cargo door of the van was locked, but she pulled a set of picks and bypassed the lock in mere seconds. Once inside, she found a pile of spare cleaning jumpsuits and put one on, tucking her hair inside a baseball hat with the cleaner's logo on the front.

She left her leather jacket behind, stuffing it between the chain link fence she'd cut through and the concrete wall of the parking garage. The pockets were empty except for the laser cutter, which she transferred to her jumpsuit, and a pair of glasses she produced from an inside pocket.

The glasses had no magnification ability, but what they did have was a miniature camera and a wireless link to the batcomputer. The camera scanned everything she looked toward, sending the data to the computer for analysis. The computer transmitted back relevant information, displaying it on her lenses in such a way to make ethereal words and images hover in front of her in shades of electric blue.

With her jacket secured out of sight for the moment, she borrowed a few pieces of janitorial equipment from the van to give credence to her disguise and walked purposefully into the main building as if she belonged there.