28: Home Sweet Home

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Harley winced in pain as her two hyenas tackled her the instant she walked through the door into the museum. A pair of licking tongues obscured her vision, and furry faces pressed in on either side of her, sniffing her over while tails wagged excitedly. They stepped on her bruises in their haste to greet her and express how much they'd missed her. Harley accepted the pain and threw her arms around them.

"Babies," Harley squealed. She hugged her hyenas, scratching their heads to their chittering delight.

Joker's hands went under her arms and pulled her back to her feet. The hyenas growled slightly, disappointed she was being taken away from them, but they trotted beside her, tongues hanging out and occasionally jumping up and putting their paws against her in continuous welcome.

In Joker's office, sitting on his desk, was the box Batman had left behind.

"Found it on the doorstep like a lost child," Joker explained, helping Harley to a chair where she was quickly flanked by her hyenas. Joker sat on the edge of the desk beside the box.

The matte finish container had a marginally greater width and length than a shoebox, the heavy plastic material bearing the symbol of Batman on the uppermost surface. Magnetic locks sealed the lid in place, and the only apparent way in was a thumbprint scanner near the emblem.

Harley pressed her thumb onto the clear plastic plate. A beam of red swept over her thumb three times before the plate illuminated green and the magnetic seals released with a series of clicks.

Throwing back the lid, Harley found a number of documents and file folders stacked inside. An optical disk crowned the entire stack. Harley offered the disk to Joker, and he put it in the player hooked to the TV mounted on the wall near the door.

Pictures of various chemical formulas, manufacturing centers, and processing plants displayed in sequence on the TV screen.

"From what I've been able to collect," Batman's voice narrated, "Scarecrow actually used all of the locations where we thought he might be. He apparently created enough gas for his purposes before laying traps behind and withdrawing. Don't go to any of the locations as they're rigged."

"Now he tells us," Joker muttered.

"By accessing some of his computers remotely, I was able to gather more information," Batman finished. "So far, I haven't found any evidence of Scarecrow's identity. He's already let loose a number of fear gas bombs, creating pockets of mass hysteria. This morning he sent a message to City Hall, declaring himself the Master of Terror and threatening to unleash a cloud of fear over all of Gotham if absolute control of the city wasn't given to him within twenty-four hours. I hope this information helps you find him."

The recording ended and the screen went black.

Harley was already dumping the papers out to examine each in detail. She found dry statistics on chemical supplies and where they'd been purchased or stolen, criminal histories of known associates or those captured at the various trapped locations, as well as a number of highly technical diagrams of the equipment used. She scanned most of it, didn't understand half of it, and ignored the rest.

Leaning back in her chair, she rubbed her tired eyes. Still not feeling her best from the car crash, the strain was proving too much for her eyes.

"I only seem to have questions," Harley sighed. "I don't have many answers, not even one."

"Maybe you can tell me how Batman has your fingerprints?" Joker offered.

"They're probably still on file from when I worked at Arkham," she theorized. Her eyes snapped open as she bolted upright in the chair. "That's it!"

"What?" Joker prompted.

"Scarecrow made everything he needed before he started his panic attacks on Gotham," Harley told him. "He'd need a secure place to hide, where no one would expect him to be, while carrying out his work, so what's the best place for a crazy man to hide?"

"Arkham Asylum," Joker concluded.

"Crane was recently fired for experimenting on the patients," Harley explained. "What if there is no Scarecrow?"

"You think Crane's experiments were just the test run for what he's planning to unleash on the city under the guise of Scarecrow?" Joker suggested.

"Could be," Harley said. "No one thinks he works at Arkham anymore, so why would he be there? It's a perfect hiding spot because everyone would reject it the moment they think of it."

"Road trip!" Joker cheered. He hopped off the desk and turned to goons nearby. "Get the boys. We have a Scarecrow to stuff."

***

The dark iron of the outside gates of the asylum were grim and foreboding, just like the rest of Gotham. The gates were currently open, and Joker drove straight through with the van. Harley watched from the passenger seat.

"I wonder why he hasn't locked down the perimeter fence," Joker commented.

"When I worked here, most of the security was directed toward keeping the patients inside the various buildings," Harley answered. "The outside didn't have much of anything since most of the inmates couldn't even reach it."

Joker nodded and pulled up in front of the main entrance. He and Harley looked up at the stone archway and the statutes of cloaked figures holding lanterns on either side of the main doors.

"Home sweet home," Harley said with a smile.

In the back of the van, members of the gang put on clown masks and loaded their weapons for the coming fight. Opening the doors, they rushed the entrance of the asylum.

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