Re: log: jason/eddie - a little night punching
Jason liked to believe that Jersey was a ways behind him, but that was probably some straight up wishful thinking. That thought lived in the same category as his dogged determination to not give a shit what Bruce thought about what he did, to not care if the Clown thought he'd made him what he was today. Doing what he thought would do the most good in the world and take the most evil out of it, that was the mission statement. Sure, it would be good if everybody saw things the way he did, but they didn't. And besides, he worked better when he set his own parameters.
Usually, that meant working alone - but he knew, too, when he could use some backup. He also knew Eddie wouldn't tell tales out of school, and that he was one of the best in the business in getting information on the fly, both major assets on a job like this one. And he liked the guy, something he never thought, once, that he'd be able to say. A lot had happened since then. Jason hadn't grown any softer, but he had started to see things from other people's perspectives a little bit better. There could be a gray area. He could accept that some people were capable of turning their lives around, while still believing that others never would, or didn't deserve the opportunity.
"Nope." The slick red helmet muffled any sound going out unless he wanted to project it, so there was no danger of keeping the chatter up while he cut across to the building. "And nope, but I'm giving it a shot."
Basement it was. He stuck to the rooftops at first, cutting across the street with a little help from the grappling gun that hung at his hip. That got him over the heads of the guards out front - after that, it was just a matter of hitting the street level in the alley, and scanning for the hatch - there. There was a rusty old padlock on the thing, probably put in around the time the building last changed ownership. The metal snapped like a dry twig under the lock cutters, and Jason cast it aside, sliding through the opening into darkness.
"What kind of brothel has a cellar? Please don't tell me there's a dungeon down here."