After Ted's little wake up call, I head over to the Brownstone. The first time I've been there since Stamford. I won't say that Ted's talk, and right-cross, snapped me out of what I was feeling. But it did point me in the right direction. I'm still beating myself up over everything, I just don't think I'm going to do it quite so often.
At the Brownstone, I check in with Joan. Apparently Tony left about a dozen messages on my communicator (I knew I forgot something) and the phone. He and Steve needed a ride, but apparently, according to the last message he left, they got one after all. Another little thing to beat myself up over, just not right now.
Seeing as how I've missed my last half dozen or so shifts, I grab a bottle of water and head straight to the computer room. I push down this sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach and bring up all the screens.
It's just what I expected. Most of them show news channels focused on what happened at Stamford, the aftermath, and President Luthor's registration act. I'm still not sure where I stand on that. A week ago, I would have told Luthor where to stick it. Now...now I just don't know. A part of me sees the benefits in the act, and another part remembers what McCarthy tried to pull and why the JSA broke up.
I turn my attention to the few screens not focused on Stamford. They all describe small crimes, things the local authorities can handle. Fortunately, nothing that necessitates the League's involvement. What you could almost call a quiet day.
I spend the next couple of hours attending to the everyday normal activities of monitor duty. Which means there's a stack of completed crossword puzzle books sitting on the table next to me.
"Nine-letter word for 'Almost too fast'." I stop and chuckle. And there's a knock at the door.
The sound actually makes me jump a bit. I sit and wait for a second. And there's another set of knocks. It's almost surreal. No one ever knocks on the front door of the JLA Brownstone.
A third set of knocks finally gets me out of the chair. I walk over to the door, not quite sure what to expect as I open it.
Standing there is a man. A rather nondescript man. Older, slightly distinguished. "Um...hello. Can I help you?"
"This is the Justice League of America headquarters?" the man says with a thick accent.
"It is. I'm the Flash." This is getting weird.
"Ah, excellent. My master wishes to speak with the League."
"Your...Master?"
From the shadows steps another figure. And I can't help my jaw hitting the floor. "Mr. Garrick, I presume. My name is Victor Von Doom."
...talk about surreal.
I'm actually at a loss for words. It's not because Doom is a head of state. Not really. I've known a lot of head's of state in my day. Heck, I was on a first name bases with Roosevelt and Churchill.
It's two things really. One, the sheer surprise of the thing. What head of state gets into the country without it being all over the news, and then quietly comes knocking for the JSA?
Second...it's
Doctor Doom! To say this man's reputation proceeds him is an understatement. And, depending on who you ask, the reputation is far from a good one. In fact, I could swear that Fate and a few others went on a some kind of mission against Doom.
And yet, here he stands, not looking rather menacing, if you ignore the armor.
"Mr. Garrick?"
Doom saying my name finally snaps me out of it.
"Um, yes. Yes. Of course. Won't you...come in?" I move to the side and gesture for the both of them. Doom walks in, head held high, almost as if he owns the place. His...servant, does not move though.
"I will wait for my Master. He wishes to speak to the Justice League in private."
"Ah...right. Well...you're welcome inside if it gets to cold out there." He nods in thanks and I close the door.
I walk back inside. Doom stands just inside the main room, hands behind his back, inspecting everything he sees. I step into the room with him.
"Would you care to sit down?" I offer him one of more comfortable chairs.
Doom nods and sits down.
"Where is the rest of the League?" he asks. Although he asks the question matter-of-factly, there's a hint of a request in his voice. No, not really a request, almost a demand. As if he expected us to be here for his arrival.
"Well, all of us in the League have our own cities to protect, or other duties to attend to. So, usually only one of us stays at the Brownstone in case of emergencies."
Doom says nothing. It's like he's filing away everything I say. The thought puts me on edge, and I decide to be a lot more guarded with my answers.
"Disappointing," he says after a few moments.
"I had wished to speak to you all."
"Really? Still, I'm here now. Maybe you can tell me why you decided to pay us a visit?"
"...No. I would rather speak to the League as a whole. You will summon them."
"...I will summon them?"
"Yes. Now."
I shift uncomfortably in my chair. I'm fairly certain if Ted was here, he'd already have told Doom just where he can stick his summons. But I'm a fair bit more diplomatic then Ted. Still, I don't like being bossed around.
"No, I don't think I will."
I can see Doom's eyes widen slightly beneath his mask.
"You what?"
"I'm not going to summon the rest of the League without good reason. And you just saying to do so isn't going to make me do it. I'm not one of your subjects. Whatever you had to say to them, you can say to me."
"You may not be under my authority, but I am a head of state. Leader of a nation. Diplomatic protocol demands you take my requests seriously."
"Oh, I do. Trust me on that. But that doesn't mean I have to do what you ask. I'm not a diplomat."
"You would risk an international incident over such a simple request."
I might not be Ted, but Doom's starting to get under my skin.
"More like a demand. And I hardly think I'm going to be risking much of anything. I get the distinct impression you kept your visit here under wraps. You don't want any attention to your visit. You're not going to stir any trouble with the State Department or anyone else."
"How dare you speak to me in such a way!"
"If you don't like it, you're free to go back to Latveria."
Doom quickly stands up and I do the same. If he wants to start any trouble, he picked the wrong day and the wrong guy.
"Good, you are not as soft as I feared."
"I-wait, what?"
Doom sits back down. I continue to stand in confusion. He leans back in the chair as if it were a throne and this was his kingdom.
"Sit, Mr. Garrick. You are correct, I do not wish to 'stir and trouble', as you put it."
I sit down slowly, still unsure what's going on.
"I had to be sure that you were a man of action, Mr. Garrick. Not weak or decadent like so many of your country's citizens."
I bite my cheek to keep from saying anything. A man's entitled to his opinion, after all. He just better start keeping it to himself.
"You were testing me?"
"Yes. I had planned on testing your League, but since you are the only one here-"
"Why?"
"To the point. I like that. I assume you listened to President Luthor's speech after the attack on Stamford."
My heart skips a beat and I have to quickly push all the memories before back before they overwhelm me. I force my voice to remain neutral.
"I did."
Doom nods.
"Then you heard what he said about my nation. Implying...no, not just implying. Almost coming out and implicating Latveria for the attack."
"And that is why you're here?"
"Indeed it is. My nation had nothing to do with the tragedy that befell your country."
"Ok. I'm still confused. You came here to tell the press that or something?"
"No. No, publicly trying to refute your President now would only further cast suspicion on myself and my people. He has far too much support at this time for me to make a statement against him."
"So...?"
"So, Mr. Garrick. I came here to ask for your help."
