*J* (the continuation)

Part Forty-Nine: Chapter 391: His Game, His Rules

Warsaw, Poland

A knock on the hotel room door causes Tom and Mark to sit straight up in their beds with cocked guns in their hands. They were exhausted. Their bodies were still on American time, but they were having to do things on European time. Both sit holding their breath. They glance at one another trying to silently decide which of them would get the door.

Tom finally gets out of his bed and goes to the window. He slightly pulls back the curtain with his gun barrel to get a peek of who it was. It appeared to be a courier with a package under his arm. Tom motions for Mark to cover him silently with his head. Mark gets out of bed and stands with his gun aimed at the door, but out of sight once the door is opened.

Tom sticks his gun in the back of his pants and casually opens the door. The courier smiles and extends the package out to Tom. The box was purple, and merely had the address of the hotel and some Gotham address. Tom takes it with a nod and shuts the door.

"Who's it from?" Mark asks.

Tom rolls his eyes, "Only one person knows where the fuck we are dumb ass."

"Why's Mr. J sending us gifts?" Mark scratches his head.

Tom sticks an ear to the box to make sure it's not ticking. He then sits it down and starts to carefully unwrap it. Inside the box is a smaller box. Tom raises the lid and funds a vial of liquid and some sort of gun that would turn the liquid into a gas.

"What is that?" Mark asks looking down at the box.

"I don't know, but there's a note," Tom picks it up. He starts reading it aloud, "Emit the gas directly in Jester and Julia's face. It will take three minutes to fully knock them out. You only have one shot. Don't fuck it up. -Mr. J"

"Well...what about us? Don't we need masks? You know, like when Mr. J uses his gas and we have to put on the mask?" Mark wonders.

Tom can only shrug, because he didn't have an answer. Maybe this was another hurdle they'd have to overcome on their own. Or maybe the gas wouldn't hurt you them at all. Tome would ask the next time he talked to Frost.

"Three minutes," Mark mumbles as he rereads the note, "He could kill us before this shit even works. What the fuck kind of help is this?"

"The only help we're going to get," Tom sighs. "I guess it's better than nothing."

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Selena Kyle's POV

I had questions about this imposter Joker and I knew someone would have some answers. You see, in Gotham City's underworld you have the boss of all bosses, the Joker. And yes he has his own people who assume his role if something happens to him. But if there is no one to fill his shoes, say these two brothers didn't exist, there was a standing order of who would become the next boss of Gotham. And that man was one Oswald Cobblepot. The Penguin.

Think of Oswald as the Vice President. He had more power than every other member of the Crime Syndicate, except for of course, the Joker. So if anyone knew anything about this imposter Joker, it would be Oswald. So I have decided to pay a little visit to Oswald before I go risking my own ass at some fake Joker's whim.

I arrive at the "old money" Cobblepot estate and am met by Oswald's security. "Boss ain't expecting no visitors," one says to me in classic bad English. His eyes prowl me in my cat suit.

"Well of course he's not expecting me, I didn't ask his purrmission to come," I roll my eyes.

"Boss said no unannounced visitors, miss kitty. Meeeyowww," the man licks his lips, eyes trained on my chest, "but maybe I can help you."