Joker and Harley entered the Iceberg Lounge to find two dozen goons circled around five women, the slacks of the women's tuxedos had been cut very short to show off their black nylons.

"Stand back boys," Harley ordered. "Gotta give the girls room to breathe."

The criminals looked at her with scowls on their faces, but they moved away when they saw Joker walking beside her.

"This place does have a cool ambiance," Joker mused, looking over the glacial décor of the restaurant. "However, since I'm not going into food service, I won't need waitresses, so I'm going to have to fire you."

Joker reached into his coat for his gun, but Harley laid a gentle hand upon his forearm.

"Ya know, Puddin', if you kept them around, you could make everyone in Gotham think Penguin was still running the place," Harley pointed out. "They'd still come here for his black market arms deals, giving us information on what they have, what they need and what they might be planning. If you let the girls keep their jobs, I'm sure they'd be willing to keep their ears open for anything said around the tables you might want to hear."

"Looks like the place is under new management," Joker said while letting go of the grip of his gun and turning a leering grin toward the captive woman who formerly worked for Penguin. "Interested in working for me?"

Knowing for certain what the alternative would be, the waitresses immediately agreed with affirming nods of their heads.

***

The former office the Penguin was occupied by Joker, Harley, and the leading thugs of their growing organization. A map of Gotham covered the ornate wooden desk dominating the center of the room.

"Penguin was nice enough to keep records on some of the less than law abiding citizens," Joker informed the assembled group. He pointed to the map. "Using this information we'll need to hit here next. Most politicians have two faces, but this former district attorney actually shows it."

Joker paused to snicker at his own comment before going on.

"As soon as we've gathered the hardware and ammunition from Penguin's storage, we'll hit Two-Face hard," Joker announced.

"You want to hit him tonight?" one of the goons asked.

Joker's eyes narrowed as he slowly turned his gaze in the man's direction.  His voice was a cold razor cutting through the air between them.  "You have a problem with my orders?"

"No boss," the man said, swallowing hard, his eyes darting toward the other people around him who had instinctively taken a step back from him. "I was just thinking the boys have had a hard fight toppling Penguin.  Taking down another in the same night might be too much."

"Maybe I need to recruit tougher men," Joker suggested, his voice a low growl. Before anyone could react, Joker drew out a gun, pointed it toward the head of the man and pulled the trigger. Everyone jumped when the sound of the gunshot filled the room, but confusion followed when the targeted thug didn't drop dead. A red flag with the word BANG hung down from the smoking barrel of Joker's gun. The clown was laughing so hard he nearly dropped the prank weapon.

"I'm sure the boys will be fine," Joker said after he regained enough composure to speak. All humor instantly dropped away as the gun clattered to the top of the desk. "This is the only time you question my orders. Next time, it won't be a laughing matter."

"Sure thing, Boss," the thug answered immediately, wiping away the sweat from his forehead.

***

The decaying building had alternating tones of black grime and whitewash on its worn bricks. Joker's crew unloaded from vans in the street, but they paused before going inside, staring at the front doors hanging loose from their hinges in broken fragments.

"Looks like someone got here first," Joker mused.

"If this happened recently, the cop response time may be very short," Harley added. "Assuming they weren't the ones to do this."

"Not enough bullet holes for Gotham cops," one of the thugs pointed out with a gesture to the front façade of the structure.

"I guess we're not the only new player in the game," Joker chuckled. "Let's see if anyone is at home."

Fearlessly, Joker walked through the shadowed entrance with Harley and the crew following quickly behind.

No lights were on inside, leaving the hallways cloaked in gloom. Similar to the exterior, no bullet holes marked the walls. There were, however, cracks and fissures in the plaster as if something heavy had been slammed up against it.

Turning a corner, the crew stopped when they found some of Two-Face's people. The criminals were all dead, broken and tossed about like rag dolls. Two of them were embedded in the walls and another had been driven so hard into the floor, the wood planks had broken to create a crater in the middle of the hallway. The destruction continued into the next room where they found what remained of Two-Face and his people.

"Hope they didn't kill the maid," Harley mused. "This place is a mess."

A slight wheeze caught the attention of Joker's crew, and they swung their guns in the direction of the noise. Joker moved faster than any of his men, reaching the far side of the office and crouching beside a large bookcase smashed into the wall. The gang helped Joker move the heavy bookcase, but the damage it had taken upon impact caused it to fall apart, crashing to the floor in multiple pieces and spilling books everywhere.

Slumping down against the wall where he'd been pinned was a man wearing a white suit that had been dyed black on the left side to match the disfigured features on the left half of his face. The skin was bubbled, melted, and blueish in color.

"Harvey Dent," Harley recognized. "Who did this to you?"

The former district attorney turned crime lord tried to say something but only managed to cough out a mouthful of blood, darkening the white side of his suit. The human half of his face contorted with pain. With his last breath, he struggled to speak a single word.

"Bane."