The Ultimate DC RPG - Season III

[Byrd Man]

​

Previously

Spoiler

Siberia
100 Kilometers East of Chita
1 Hour Until Rendezvous

The train carrying the members of Task Force X came to a stop on the tracks. Snow covered the ground all around the train tracks. Inside the passenger car, Amanda Waller held court one final time.

"Final briefing, people, so listen up."

The Squad members gathered around her at the front of the car. Everyone was decked out in their gear, colorful costumes mixed with weapons.

"There are gonna be two teams assaulting the train convoy, three teams total. Flag, Vertigo, and Blockbuster are team one. You're in charge of frontal assault and starting he ambush. Bronze Tiger, Deadshot, and Nightshade are team two. You'll swing around and launch an assault from the back. Sarge, Calculator, and I are team three, the support team. We'll be here in a reserve capacity, jamming any communications the Russians try to send. Both assault teams will fight their way to the middle. Once there, Blockbuster will use that brute strength of his and tow the car carrying the alien fighter to our train. We'll attach it to our engine and then comes the hard part. Dismissed."

Flag stood up and slung the M4 in his hands over his shoulder.

"You heard the lady. Team one, you're on me. Team two, follow Tiger's lead. Let's move out."

Flag led the way out the car. He jumped down on the ground. His boots crunched against the snow. The rest of the followed him out of the car and down the tracks. There were dense clumps of trees on both sides of the train tracks. Flag looked around and got his bearings.

"This must be a small forest or something. Perfect place for an ambush. Ben, we'll set up here. Your team can hunker down in the trees about 400 yards away."

"You got it, Colonel."

"Keep an eye out for the convoy. Signal when it's in sight."

"Can do."

The three members of the second assault team disappeared into the trees while Flag and his two members crouched down around the shrubbery at the edge of the train tracks. He could see his breath curling out of his mouth as he breathed.

"Here's the plan," he addressed Vertigo and Blockbuster. "Once they're in range, we're gonna hit them with some guerilla tactics. I fire the first salvo and disappear into the woods. Vertigo steps up and disorients them while Blockbuster and I step back out and mow them down."

Forty minutes later, Flag watched from his vantage point as a train engine rolled to a stop. Behind it was a passenger car and a freight car was attached to the passenger car. Nearly a dozen soldiers jumped out of the passenger car and began to advance towards the Squad's train.

"Flag to Bronze Tiger, go when you hear the loud boom. Waller, are we go?"

"Yeah, all communications within a mile radius are being blocked. Good hunting, Flagman."

"Roger that."

Flag slid the grenade launcher attachment to the end of his M4 and aimed for the engine. He took a deep breath and squeezed the trigger.

FWOOM!

The grenade shot out of the barrel and twirled end over end in the air until it struck the engine.

BOOM!

Flames began to race along the outside of the engine. Many of the soldiers fell to the ground while others swung their rifles towards Flag. Before they could properly aim, Vertigo activated his eyepiece. The soldiers began to wobble and their knees buckled as the sensation of vertigo overcame them.

"Now, Blockbuster!"

The large criminal stepped out of the woods, a machine gun clamped in his hands. He took aim at the downed soldiers and opened fire along with Flag.

Bratatatatatatatatata!

Flag ordered a cease fire once all the soldiers were down. Further down the train, Flag could hear gunshots.

"Flag to Bronze Tiger, gimme a sit-rep."

"We're making progress. We could use some backup."

"We're on the way. Flag out."

Flag, Vertigo, and Blockbuster began to advance on the train. The engine was now completely engulfed in flames. They were almost to the passenger car when Waller chimed in.

"Heads up, Flag. Company's coming your way."

As soon as she said that, Flag could hear the distant thump of rotors growing louder. A Hind gunship appeared over the tree top and let loose with automatic fire.

"Everyone fall back!"

Flag rushed towards the treeline with Blockbuster and Vertigo running in his wake. Bullets whizzed over his head and tore up the branches in the woods, chunks of wood exploded all around him as he jumped and slid for cover behind a tree.

Flag cursed under his breath and watched the Hind take another pass over the area, firing more machine gun rounds into the woods. He took a deep breath and began to assess the situation. He needed a new plan, he needed to take out the Hind.

He needed to keep moving.

Siberia
100 Kilometers East of Chita

The Hind gunship flew low for another pass, riddling the snowy forest with bullets. Flag, Blockbuster, and Vertigo ducked behind trees as the fire ripped through the woods.

"Flag to Waller, how the hell did that thing get the drop on us?"

"It was part of the escort. It trailed a few miles behind the train. I was hoping we could get in and out before it caught up, but I was wrong. Calculator jammed their signal, so they can't radio for backup. We're wasting time, Flag. Take it out!"

"Deadshot, please tell me you can get a shot in on this thing."

"Been trying," Lawton said into his mic. He was on the other side of the convoy, planted in the snow with a sniper rifle. "It's moving too damn fast, and the cockpit glass is tinted. I'll give you a 75% chance that I'll hit the pilot."

"What about Vertigo?" Bronze Tiger asked. He was a few feet behind Deadshot, taking cover behind a pine tree with more than a few bullet holes in it.

"He can spin the pilot out, but it's too unpredictable. The damn chopped could crash into us. I've got a better idea. Nightshade."

"Yes, Colonel?" She asked. She was hunkered down in undergrowth beside the train tracks.

"Create a portal. In the Hind's flight path. Is it within your range to make the portal open up a kilometer east of here?"

"I can do that. Let me concentrate..."

Nightshade put her hands together and focused on the air above the train tracks. The gunship had flown through that spot in the air at least a half dozen times since it showed up. The air began to ripple, tiny at first, but going larger. A few seconds later, a large rip in the fabric of space was hanging in the air. The Hind noticed it, but it was too late to avoid it. The gunship passed through the portal and disappeared. Off in the distance, they all the head loud crunch of metal hitting the frozen ground. A kilometer to the east of their location, the night sky lit up as a large fireball shot upwards.

"That takes care of the Hind," Flag announced, coming out of the woods. "Let's get moving. Blockbuster, you're up!"

Flag tossed a harness to the large man and pointed towards the freight car. A half hour later, Blockbuster was pushing the car to the Squad's train. Nightshade and Flag attached it to the passenger car, creating a three car train. While they worked on it, Deadshot and Bronze Tiger examined the box car. Turner slid the door opened and looked inside.

Inside was a sleek black aircraft, the black so dark that it seemed to absorb the light all around it. It was a perfect match for the sketches the Squad had been shown back at Belle Reve.

"Bronze Tiger to Waller, we've got a confirmation on the aircraft."

"Good. We all set up, Flag?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Get back in the passenger car. We're starting the train back up. Now comes the hard part...getting this son of a ***** out of Russia."

********

Moscow
16 Hours Later

Colonel Gorki was growing anxious. The top secret convoy they sent through Siberia had failed to report in for quite some time. His superiors in Spetsnaz and the GRU were growing anxious. Gorki had sent out a scout team to survey the area where they had lost contact with the convoy. Now, he sat inside the GRU command center with the little man they called Major Zastrow, a holdover from the Soviet days.

<"Colonel,"> Sergeant Pavel said. <"The scout team is just arriving. We are getting the video feed.">

On the screen, they watched as the special forces walked down the train tracks. There were dead bodies littered on and around the tracks, all of them wearing Russian uniforms. The train engine was on fire and toppled. Most importantly of all...their cargo was missing. Gorki cursed under his breath and picked up the phone.

<"I need Hinds, transport ships, and three units out Chita now!">

<"Why?"> Zastrow asked, lighting a cigarette. <"We both know I can bring in four people who can provide as much support and firepower and find you your alien craft.">

<"No," Gorki hissed. <"We will not use your washed up freaks. Their time as come and gone.">

Zastrow calmly flicked the ashes from his cigarette and pulled a piece of paper from his jacket. <"These are orders from the President, signed off on by the Prime Minister. They make it clear where me and my team stands.">

Gorki read over the paper, his brow furrowing as he read. Finally, the colonel tossed the paper into the air in disgust. <"Fine. Call your heroes. But know this: the death of them will be on your hands.">

Zastrow shrugged and walked out of the control room. He pulled a phone from his pocket and dialed a number. <"Yes, it is me. We have the green light. Rally them all around you, Hammer The People's Heroes have one more shot to defend Mother Russia.">
​

 

[MST3K 4ever]

Rhiannon is gently pushed in a crude but effective wheelchair to the final resting spot of Roshawn, Laethwyn, and Edward by her lady in waiting.

She says in a ragged voice, "Thank you Melanea. I'll call you if I need you."

Melanea replies, "As you wish my Lady." She leaves and Rhiannon closes her eyes and then reopens them.

Rhiannon says, "Things have changed since I abdicated the throne. Alicia has done a truly marvelous job as queen, she has 3 beautiful children 2 boys 1 girl, and we have peace throughout the Kingdom. She has proven herself worthy of the throne on many occasions, but more importantly she is a good person. I'm very proud to call her my daughter."

Rhiannon takes another ragged breath and says, "I guess there's no easy way to say this, but it looks like I'll be joining you all very soon. I've got no regrets about my life except I would've liked to have talked with my mom one more time. That appears to be a conversation for another time...."

Rhiannon closes her eyes and her head drops back.

She sees a bright light and she feels a comfort and a peace from it as she says, "Time to go."

Rhiannon realizes she is not only walking to the light now, but she is wearing her Atom costume.

Okay this is kinda freaky.

Just then she hears a familiar voice say, "I told you that you would see me again sometime."

Atom turns and sees The Traveler standing behind her and she says, "So you did, now could you explain this?" pointing to her costume.

Traveler says, "When you shrank down you came in contact with elements that had a reaction to the White Dwarf Star matter in your bloodstream, and it overwhelmed you. Your body has processed the elements and dealt with them, so you have your powers back."

Atom asks, "Are you saying I imagined all of this? If this turns out to be a Dr.Destiny mind thing I'm gonna be real upset!"

Traveler says, "Take a look at your left hand."

Atom peals back her glove and sees the Royal Seal and her Wedding Mark that was burned into her hand on her wedding day.

She smiles and says, "So it really did happen. Everything journeying to Morlaidhan, my marriage it was all true, but how?"

Traveler replies, "Asks the woman who works with a Martian, an Amazon and one who can run from Canada to Mexico and back in a matter of seconds. There are billions of universes and alternate realities, and you crossed into one of them. Remember as Yoda says size matters not. You are the first Justice Leaguer who crossed into a microscopic one."

Atom asks, "I gotta know something. How do you know about the Justice League and me?"

Traveler chuckles and replies, "When Mac told you that if you ever had children that they'd have meta-human abilities as well; did you just assume that they'd be your abilities? And you thought I had problems seeing the Big Picture."

Atom's mouth slowly drops open as she realizes whom she has been talking to all these years.

She says in almost whisper, "Edward!"

Traveler removes his hood and black mask and says, "Hello mother."

Atom removes her mask and without even thinking embraces Edward and he returns the embrace.

She steps away and asks, "What exactly are your powers? Why didn't you tell me sooner? You've got a lot to explain to me! I don't care if you're the traveler or not I'm your mother!"

Edward replies, "I discovered I had these powers when I was a child. Father knew of them but we kept it secret for fear of how people would react. Alicia has powers as well, but she is frightened by them and ignores them. When we were assaulted by the marauders I fell off of a cliff and used my power to shift through time and space and other realms, but now I've done it so much now I can't stay in anyone place for too long."

Rhiannon says, "So that's why he wasn't afraid to take you with him. I guess you left before our wedding to avoid that whole two places at once paradox."

Edward says, "Not really. Truth is I didn't want to know the circumstances I was conceived under that could lead to some very uncomfortable issues."

Rhiannon nods and says, "Yeah I can understand that. So it's my time to crossover and see your father, your grandfather, Roshawn, and...."

Edward bows his head and Rhiannon stops and says, "It's not my time is it."

Edward nods and says, "Someday it will be mother, but for now there is still much for you to do in your own time. The experience you've had in Morlaidhan will cause you to grow not only as person but as a Justice Leaguer. You have lived an entire lifetime you're now able to see things from a new point of view."

Rhiannon realizes Edward is right and smiles. She places her mask back on and asks, "So how much has changed since I've been gone?"

Edward replies, "In your time you've been gone only a day and a half."

Atom is stunned and Edward says, "Time moves differently in different realities mother you'll learn that at some point. Now there are two Mother's day gifts I wish to give you if it it's all-right..." he looks upward and says, "Thank you."

Edward moves his hand as though he were pushing aside a curtain and Atom sees a paradise like she has never known.

Atom asks, "Is this Heaven?"

Edward replies, "Yes it is. Well what your people call it there are other names. but look over there by the waterfall. Look at the young lady."

Atom stares for a moment at the 8 year old girl and she realizes who she is seeing when she says, "Barbara Jean. She was killed in the car accident before she was born. Edward she's beautiful. Thank you."

Edward closes the curtain and says, "Now your next gift you'll receive when you get back."

Atom says, "I love you son." And she immediately embraces Edward knowing it'll be the last time for a while.

Edward embraces her back and says, "I love you too..mom."

Atom says, "That's the first time you ever called me mom. I'll never forget it."

Edward steps away and says, "Go now it's time."

He fades away and The Atom closes her eyes. She concentrates with all her might and grows at rapid speed. When she opens them again she discovers she is back at the Hall of Justice.

Atom floats around looking at everything. She then notices a folder on her bed.

Atom looks around and sees no one else in the room and transforms back into Rhiannon Palmer.

She says, "Feels like it's been a lifetime since I've done that."

Rhiannon then notices that the marks on her hand have grown with her and they're noticeable.

She says, "I'm buying a glove to cover that up. I'm not ready to tell anyone about this one!"

Rhiannon opens the folder and sees a photo of her family in Morlaidhan by her favorite place.

Rhiannon bows her head and says, "Thank you son." She goes to the Justice League main computer and scans the picture in and sends it to her e-mail. The picture suddenly disappears from the scanner and she hears a quiet voice say, "You're welcome mom."

Rhiannon transforms back into The Atom and contacts J'onn about her investigation at the U-N, but says nothing about her time away.

The Atom then rides the internet connection back to her apartment.

She sees that there is an urgent message from Pete Ross.

No rest for the weary...

 

[Bounce]

Benedict Arnold Elementary School
Metropolis, MA

"What do you have today?"

Part of the education experience was an unofficial course which every kid dabbled in throughout their formative years which could best be likened to an Introduction to the Black Market. Unlike traditional courses of education, this one had no instructor and most often took place in the school cafeteria. "Bologna Lunchable," the young Kryptonian reported, despite not having yet opened his Ben 10 lunch box.

That was another part of the daily game. "What do I have?" Adam Grant asked, pushing his own Star Wars lunch box closer to the Superboy.

"Peanut butter and jelly sandwich, an apple, and a Capri Sun," Lor-Zod answered with a sigh. Pointing at the plain, brown paper bag of another student the boy added, "Tommy Jenkins has the best. He's got pizza." Having been raised in the ethereal dimension of the Phantom Zone, Lor actually had no idea just what his parents liked to eat... but he had every idea that bologna Lunchables probably weren't an appropriate food for a warrior's son.

"Oh," Adam chirped, with a disappointed gaze at his own lunch. Perking up slightly, the flaxen-haired youth opined, "Hey! Its sloppy joe day. We could buy school lunch! How much money do you have?"

"Uh, two of those large silver things and a penny," Lor answered, fumbling through his pockets. "Wait, its not a penny... just an old gum wrapper."

"Oh," Adam answered, deflated. "All I have is a dollar."

The two boys each sighed as they rested with their heads in their hands and looked out across their lunch boxes at the kid happily munching away on his pizza.

"Wanna trade?"

Lor pushed his lunch box over to Adam, the pair swapping the disappointed meals that had been prepared for them. "Seriously, you saved Texas and all you got for it was a bologna Lunchable? Not even a Happy Meal?" Adam commented, as he began to open and assemble the Lunchable.

Without answering, Lor popped open the Star Wars lunch box and took out the juice box.

"Have you made up your Christmas list yet?"

The question made the Kryptonian pause. It wasn't the first time that he'd heard mention of this term. "What's Christmas?"

"What's Christmas!?" Adam all-but-screamed, a look of horror crossing his young features as though suddenly he viewed Superboy as a heretic of the worst sort. "Seriously, its, like, only the best holiday EVER!"

Lor planted the straw down into the Capri Sun pouch and took a sip as he contemplated how his friend could answer a question without ever actually answering the question. "But what is Christmas?" the alien child demanded quietly.

"Christmas is about how Santa died for our gifts, and rose from the dead, and... moved to the North Pole. And..." Adam answered, his enthusiasm sparking the boy to gesture wildly as he talked, sending bits of cracker and cheese flying across the cafeteria. "And because of that, every year Santa comes down to forgive us our sins and give us eternal presents!"

Lor-Zod took a sip of his juice. Blinked. And simply asked, "Seriously?"

"Yeah," Adam answered with an exaggerated nod and a large grin plastered across his face.

Lor just blinked a second time, set his juice back on the table and, looking his friend in the eye, said, "Humans are really, really strange."

The other boy got the same look on his face as he usually did before he either punched Lor in the arm or kicked him in the shin, both of which typically hurt Adam a lot more than it did the Superboy. "Well what do Kryptonians celebra--" Adam began to retort hotly.

And that was when something blew up.

Even with his multi-dimensional senses and faster reaction time, it would have been hard for Lor-Zod to have described the exact sequence of events. There was an explosion, the lights went out, the fire extinguishers overhead suddenly dumped water on the cafeteria, and there were voices of a hundred children crying out in terror simultaneously. Or maybe the screaming came before the water began showering down. It was hard to tell.

When you had super-hearing, the screaming part of the whole ordeal was what really, really sucked.

Peering beyond the walls of the cafeteria, the boy hovered a foot above the table. And, as he turned his head, he saw the school in flames. The classroom where he and Adam attended classes was now a gaping hole in the side of the building.

"Superboy."

Above the droning cries of the other children, the young Kryptonian heard his name spoken somewhere outside. The sound of a second explosion drawing his attention toward the school gymnasium.

"Come out, come out wherever you are!"

The small soldier from Zod's army was taken aback at the sight of a woman dressed in white, whose body was like living fire. Her energies blasting the gymnasium into ashes as embers rained down over mobs of terrified children.

A teacher lay on the floor of the gym, the flaming villain drifting closer as energies began to swirl from the woman's fingertips.

Rocketing out of the cafeteria, the boy sent drywall and masonry in all directions as he literally exploded out through the roof. Moving at speeds that only the Flash could have appreciated, the child ripped free a section of metal duct work as he arced through the air to interject himself between the fiery creature and the fallen teacher.

To his surprise, the force of the blast actually pushed the Superboy back. The metallic shield began to take on a glow as the fire was deflected, its intense heat becoming a mild irritation for the Kryptonian as his young mind worked to try and comprehend everything happening around him.

There were teachers hurt.

Children with burns, or terrified, or both.

Even before he could have stopped himself, Lor-Zod's brown eyes glanced over at his right wrist. The arm where he ordinarily wore the watch that Superman had given him. The watch that contained a signal on a hypersonic frequency that would summon Kal-El.

Except he wasn't wearing the watch.

Adam had asked to borrow it when he'd heard that Superman had given it to him.

This... might be a problem.

 

[Byrd Man]

​

Previously

Spoiler

Crazy Horse Casino
Prairie Rose Indian Reservation
South Dakota


I spend the rest of the night around the casino, talking to employees about Lash and the girl he run off with. The dealers all say Lash got on their nerves, ran his mouth too damn much. The drink girls say he as a charmer, he'd tip them way too much and flirt, same story with the strippers. Bartender says he was always buying rounds for everyone. The drunks and freeloaders loved him. Nobody knew where he was from, or where he was going.

The girl is a bit different. Sarah Proud Feather, born and raised on the Rez, was about middle of the pack compared to the rest of the strippers, but that's all according to them. In the week Lash was here, he went back to his room with Proud Feather every night. Word was that Red Crow got wise to Lash's card counting and moved in to get him, only Lash and Proud Feather were long gone by the time they busted into his room.

All I got to go on is a California driver's license that was issued six years ago and may be fake. Like the best con men, Lash probably isn't even his real name. Lucky for me, Crazy Horse does more than just blackjack and poker. They also run sports betting.

It's their sports bookie that gives me a solid lead. Lash took a dive the other week when Oregon was upset against Southern Cal. He lost nearly ten grand on it. In his six day stay, of all the games he played, it was the only bet he lost.

Taking that idea, I find the nearest payphone and ring up Belle.

"Belle's Bail Bonds."

"You're a real *****, you know that? Told you time and again I don't work Indians."

"How about you stuff it up your ash, Jonah? Is the pay good, like I promised?"

"Yeah, for a skiptrace the only money ain't bad. But I don't like this Red Crow guy. I've heard stories."

"What kind of stories?"

"Just a few years back when I was in St. Paul, runnin' down this arsonist for a few counts of murder, and I was hearing about this street gang that was running meth through Minneapolis and St. Paul, their source was some Indian named Red Crow. It was all just whispers, though."

"I would tell you to be careful and take care of yourself, but it's you."

"Well, I didn't call just to whisper sweet nothings in your ear. I need you to run a search for me. Name of Bartholomew Lash, spelled just like you'd pronounce it. Look for any records of a man named that from Oregon or California."

"Yes, sir," Belle says sarcastically. If I were looking at her, she'd be giving me a little salute. "May take awhile."

"I'm spending the night here. I'm set up in room 105. Call me as soon as you got anything."

"Will do. Be safe and make sure you send me my damn finder's fee when you get done."

"Christ, woman. You used to be a smoree, now you're a pimp."

"Not just any pimp, Jonah Hex, your pimp."

"Yes, ma'am. I'll be sure to get you your money like a good little smoree."
I chuckle and hang up. Despite the digs, Belle's the only person I actually trust in this world. We met in Central City when I was first starting out as a bounty hunter. She was a smoree and I was after her s***bird pimp, guy got off on torturing and murdering his girls. Belle was next before I clotheslined the son of a ***** and broke his jaw in three places. She got off the street and started her own business as a bail bondsman. Guess I had an effect on her. I give her muscle on the tougher bounties, and she throws a bone my way every now and then.

I turn around and walk back inside the casino. Red Crow may be a certified ***hole, but it don't mean I can't blow off some steam while I wait to hear back from Belle.

*******
​

The shrill blast of the phone on my nightstand wakes me from my sleep. That phone is already loud, but with a hangover it's goddamn unbearable. I push the woman off of me and reach out from the bed and grab the phone.

"What?"

"Got a hit on your Lash, Jonah. Bartholomew A. Lash, born in Oregon, moved to California by himself when he was 18. He's been arrested a few times for gambling in Oregon and California, and he's been blacklisted in Vegas, Mississippi, and half the Indian casinos around the country.""Where's he from originally?"

"Aurora, Oregon. It's a long shot, Jonah. You sure that's where he'd run?"

"A man runs into trouble and there's only two places he'll go: Either the girl he's ****ing or the woman he came from. He's already got the girl with him, so he's headed back home."

"Good hunting, Jonah."

I hang up and get up, searching for my pants on the floor. The Indian woman in the bed stirs and rolls on her stomach. I look at the tattoos all over her naked back and ash. She was flirting with me so much last night, I figured Red Crow paid her in advance to show me a good time. She actually managed to halfway pretend my face didn't bother her, so Red Crow must have paid well. I pull my pants on and take my wallet out, putting a few hundred dollars on the nightstand.

Red Crow can rot in hell, I ain't his goddamn charity case. I put my shirt on before putting my .45's holster in the small of my back. After putting on my shirt, boots, and hat, I'm on my way out of the casino. The room's paid for in advance, so all I do is head for the parking lot and my truck. I start it up and pull out the parking lot, heading west towards Oregon.

The sooner I'm done with this job, the better I'll feel.
​

Oregon


I pull my pickup off the interstate and swing into a gas station just off the exit. I'm pulling up to the gas pump when I see the silver Lexus pull off the off-ramp. I first noticed it following me when I left South Dakota. They've stayed back enough that most people wouldn't notice them. But I ain't most people.

Aurora is only sixty miles away, but Red Crow's people don't know where I'm headed. I quickly fill up and pay for my gas before they get a chance to double back. I even go some backass way to the town to try and lose them.

The town of Aurora is just what you think it'd be, a damn pitstop with barely enough people to call it a town. It's four in the afternoon when I come to town, but the local bar is already open. I head inside and draw a few strange stares from the regular winos and smokehounds when they catch sight of my face.

"'Scuse me," I say to the bartender as I step up to the bar. "Shot of whiskey. Don't care what kind."

The bartender looks me over and flinches. He quickly runs off and fills up a shot glass with Wild Turkey. I take the shot glass and upend it, recoiling slightly at the taste. Don't care how big a man's dick is, or how many people he puts in the ground, he will always make that face at the taste of whiskey.

"Go again."

He fills up the glass again and I upend it quickly, letting the warm liquid slide down my throat and into my belly.

"How much do I owe ya?"

"Six and a half bucks."

I pull out a twenty and hand it to him.

"You help me out with something, I'll let you keep the change."

"What do you want to know, friend?"

"Looking for a man named Lash. Any Lash's living in the area?"

"There was a Lash lived out on Boone's Ferry Road. She died a few years back. Don't know if anyone bought her house, the economy being what it was."

"Alright," I say with a tip of my hat. "Thanks for the help."

It's a few minutes drive out to Boone's Ferry Road. There's a rundown and dilapidated house off the road. The only one on this stretch of highway. I pull up into the driveway and kill the engine. The house hasn't been lived in for some time, but I can tell somebody's recently moved in. The high grass is beaten down around the front door. There's fresh tire tracks in the mud. The shuttered windows are still shut, but they're out of position from where they were.

I pull the .45 from the holster resting in the small of my back. I get out the car and keep the gun down at my side as I walk up to the house. I stop short and walk around the house, wading through the high grass. A black sedan is parked behind the house. It matches the description of the one Red Crow said Lash was driving. I lean against the back door and listen. I can hear grunts and moans coming from inside. I smile and step back, holding the gun out as I swing my leg forward and kick the doorframe in.

I run through the open door and run in on Lash and his Indian princess, naked on an air mattress and going at it. They both scream, Lash climbs off of her and begins to run bare ash through the empty house. Cursing under my breath, I chase after him, jumping over the air mattress and the naked Indian woman as I run. Lash is almost out the front door when I catch him, barreling into him and crashing through the front door. I land on top of him and pin his naked body to the ground. Most hunters stick around the business and you develop pet peeves. Tackling naked people is right up there with meth heads who won't stay down.

"Damn you, Lash. This is for making me run," I knee him in the back and he grunts. I give him another knee to the back. "And that's for making me tackle you while you're naked."

I stand up and jerk him up to his feet.

"You're coming with me, ***hole."

 

[Batman]

IC: Alfred Jarvis​

Daybreak casually drifts into sundown once again. And yet Miss Bertinelli and I are no closer to knowing if Bruce's condition has improved.

It has been a long and stressful day that I am more than thankful to be past, as my only form of company gives me a reassuring smile in the midst of a conference call. Initially I had objected to her staying at the hospital with me, knowing that she deserved to be spending these crucial hours doing something more pleasant, but her persistence was rather difficult to dissuade. In truth, I am grateful that she did, as I am not sure if I would have been able to make it through the day without the assistance. Being that he is my client by all technical means of the word, the many CEOs and business associates that regularly dealt with Waynetech stockholders have come to me to know what happened to Bruce Wayne. It is to be expected, but I am not of the mind to be negotiating deals that have been promptly abandoned by this sudden turn of events. Contrary to what is required of me, I cannot help but find thoughts to be lying elsewhere. It seems ludicrous to think that the fate of one man can throw so much into disarray at once.

As always, however, it only serves as a reminder that Mr. Wayne is far from just an ordinary man. I watch from the waiting room window as the sun sets upon Gotham, their inhabitants still entirely oblivious to all that has happened. Were it any normal evening, there is no doubt that I would already find him down in the cave, preparing his equipment and reviewing Oracle's data. I would offer him nourishment, only to be rejected as his mind would focus entirely on the mission at hand. Never did I imagine that I would ever be longing for that tired routine. And yet here I am. Here we both are, wishing that everything had stayed the same. I suppose the old saying holds some weight. True change is but the blight of existence. What we as a species long for, above all else, is normality.

"No, and I already told your secretary this morning. His shares of the company aren't going up for sale. I would have thought you'd give more of a damn about one of your own friends, but it seems I gave you too much credit. Good day to you."

Frustrated, she closes the phone and massages her temple. I haven't the heart to tell her that Mr. Queen called me personally, beforehand, to extend his sincerest wishes for Bruce's recovery and to authorize an immediate donation towards Waynetech's primary charital funds. I am unsure of why most of these billionaire types feel the need to put forth an overt charade of vanity, but it is not my place to pass judgement. Perhaps they all decided to secretly wear tights.

"Don't let him bother you, Miss.", I say, gently taking the phone as she sits down. "He's simply in a state of denial. It's quite typical behavior of the privileged when faced with such circumstance."

"I suppose you'd know, right?", she asks, taking another sip of her beverage. "Sorry. I know he wouldn't have wanted me to react like that during a transaction, but it's all still just..."

I sit next to her.

"Alot to take in. I know, Miss. But if I may, you're handling it with considerable grace. There is a reason Bruce chose you to succeed him as head of the company."

She smiles, grateful for the compliment.

"I don't think you've been handling it particularly bad, either. Honestly, I can't say I've ever seen anyone so in control under circumstances like this. You must have been raised with nerves of steel."

I give into a light chuckle, the first I've had in many hours.

"My parents were, shall we say, of the unconventional variety. My father is a veteran of the Cold War, and my mother was a prominent civil rights activist. I had an elder brother that served with Scotland Yard for a number of years. So by all accounts, I have experienced my fair share of horror stories before this."

She looks back at me, partially surprised. Then shakes her head.

"Jesus, no wonder you've been taking this so well. All this time, I thought my upbringing was out of the norm. You're making it look tame in comparison."

"By all means, Miss. We may still be able to trade."

She smirks. "Funny. I'll think about it,"

"Helena?"

We both turn as a man with disheveled red hair steps into the room, wearing an overcoat and an unbuttoned dress shirt. His face is riddled with a number of light scars, and he doesn't seem to have shaven in days. I stand, as does Ms. Bertinelli, who walks over to him and gives him a light kiss on the cheek. Ah. This must be the elaborate Detective Sage that she's been telling me about.

"There you are! Where were the hell were you?"

"Didn't mean to keep you waiting, babe. You know how traffic can be crossing through Metropolis. Almost had to tell some idiot tourist on the freeway to kiss my black---"

"Vic, please."

She elbows him in the stomach, indicating my prescence.

"Oh. Right, sorry, didn't mean to go off on a tangent. It's... been a long day."

I raise an eyebrow as he extends his hand.

"Vic Sage, Gotham's premier punching bag. You're Wayne's hired help, right?"

Not wishing to be rude, I return the sentiment and shake it, giving him a nod.

"In a manner of speaking, sir. Miss Helena has told me much about you."

He smirks. "Well, I damn well hope not. I've heard alot about your boy toy, too, and the things she told me that they used to do... man. Talk about your stiff competit-"

"VIC!"

She angrily grabs Mr. Sage by the arm, thank goodness.

"Not the time or the place."

"Aww, c'mon. I'm trying to be good. Honest!"

Pushing him out of the room, she looks back at me.

"Sorry, he can be difficult. But he's also my ride home, so I'm going to have to leave. Will you be alright to stay alone? Should I send someone over?"

Despite the fact that I will miss her company today, I shake my head and politely wave away her offer. "I do appreciate your generosity, Miss, but I'll be fine. You two be sure to have a pleasant evening."

Grabbing her coat, she comes up to me and gives another hug. To which I again return.

"Same to you. I know that it's got to be difficult, but just remember that this is Bruce we're talking about. We both know that the man's a fighter."

Parting from the embrace, I acknowledge her statement with a nod.

"Yes, he most certainly is."

Giving a friendly wave, she departs the room and grabs the waiting Mr. Sage.

"Uh-oh, I know that look. I'm gonna have to sleep on the couch again, aren't I?"

"Move!"

For a moment, I manage to find myself blissfully distracted from the stress of the day as I remember Helena's time with us. It wasn't for very long, when you consider the six month time period, but it felt like a lifetime had passed when they were both together. Even as he first embarked on his bizarre nightly quest, filled with just as much determination to rid Gotham of evil as he does now, I could see something different in his eyes whenever Helena walked into the room the next morning. Something that one could almost mistake for happiness, though I know the true sentiment. Bruce felt he wasn't worthy of her, with the darkness and the secrets constantly in the way. So he drove a wedge between them both, and forced her to leave.

Even years later, I can still tell that it was a monumental loss for Mr. Wayne. She is one of the most confident and warm people I have ever met, and it stands to reason that were they to follow through with the engagement, she would have made him much happier than he's been in recent months. It is a great shame. But the past is but a faint ghost, now, as I turn back towards the window and await the night's sky to greet me.

It's starting, now. I can feel it in my blood.

A Gotham without it's dark guardian to protect it.

Through my skepticism and doubt, I still cannot deny the impact that he has made on the city.

Things are only going to get worse without him.

"Alfred?"

I turn, surprised to see Lucius Fox standing in the doorway. His look is complacent, even though he knows that I'm reading his expression immediately. God only knows how many loved ones of patients that he's had to deal with in this room, trying to hide the outcome of a failed surgery or a lost patient from those who would be positively devastated to learn such news.

I cannot lie. Even as my mind races with the possibilities, I find myself hoping - praying - that I am not such a case.

"Walk with me. We're about to have a long talk."

My pulse drops. The world stops.

This is it.

"Is he?"

"He's alive."

And suddenly, I feel as if my world can resume again. A breath of absolute relief escapes my lungs, as I nearly stumble under the sensation.

"But... I'm afraid there've been some complications."

Unsure that I understood him correctly, my relief fades as I walk closer towards him.

"I beg your pardon, sir, but what do you mean by that? What complications?"

"Bruce is..."

His head lowers.

"Damn it all, I tried. God knows that I tried."

My eyes narrow, as I begin to grow increasingly concerned.

"Lucius?"

He places a hand on my shoulder and sighs.

"He's slipped into a coma."

 

[MST3K 4ever]

Oswald and Mayor Thorne are sitting in the study of Oswald's private dining room of the Iceberg Lounge enjoying a sifter of Brandy and a couple cigars.

Thorne says, "The dinner this evening was delicious Oswald. The Lobster stuffed fillet was wonderful as always but I'm gathering that you didn't call me here just for evening of dinner and cigars."

Oswald replies walking away from the fireplace and to an wing-back chair, "How astute of you old friend. No there is a reason for my inviting you here this evening I'm concerned about Gotham."

Thorne asks, "How so?"

Oswald replies, "Well I'm sure like the rest of us you've heard about Bruce Wayne being in the hospital."

Thorne nods and says, "Yes very tragic the poor man does so much for this city and he gets pummeled in his own home."

Oswald says, "Yes indeed the poor man, but it's become very noticeable that the stock price for Wayne Enterprises is dropping steadily. Many financial analysts feel that if Wayne isn't out of the hospital and back in the board room, at least as a figure head, that Wayne Enterprises could be heading into a tail spin. Do you have an idea what that will mean for Gotham City?"

Thorne shakes his head and says, "I can only imagine."

Oswald says, "I can do more than that Rupert. Forget about the world-wide impact the impact in Gotham would lead this city into a depression, and eventually this city that we all love so would be nothing more than a speed-bump for anyone coming from the south en-route to Metropolis."

Thorne nods and says, "I see your point old friend, what do you suggest we do?"

Oswald is almost leaping for joy as Thorne finally asks the question he's wanted to hear all evening.

Oswald says, "I would suggest to the board of directors that a special adviser be appointed to help oversee the operations until Bruce returns. Face it they are all so concerned, and rightfully so, about Bruce and his well being that things could get missed in the big picture. Maybe stop the stock free-fall before it happens."

Thorne nods and begins to smirk, "A case of in the best interest of Gotham this is necessary."

Oswald nods and smiles, "Exactly."

Thorne finishes his Brandy and says, "I've got some contacts over at Wayne I'll talk to them and my liaison and run it by them."

Thorne gets up and says, "If you'll excuse me old friend I need to be going. A meeting tomorrow with my cabinet at 8 am."

Oswald replies, "Of course old friend."

The two men shake hands, and Mayor Thorne leaves.

Just then Oswald's L-Phone rings. His hospital source is on the line.

Oswald says, "Yes."

His source says, "Latest on Wayne; coma. They had to fight just to get him stabilized. Never saw Fox work so hard ever!"

Oswald, "Thank you. Your payment is on the way. Keep me informed."

Oswald sends out an e-mail through his private network:

Meeting...1 hour! Urgent! Anyone not here will be dealt with most harshly!

Penguin

 

[Byrd Man]

​

Previously

Spoiler

Keystone City, KS

I park the police van next to the sidewalk and get out. There's a patrolman on the stoop of the apartment, standing behind crime scene tape and fending off reporters.

"Let the detectives be," he barks out. "They'll issue a statement when the time comes."

I wade through the small crowd with my briefcase in hand. Elbowing to the front of the line, I show the officer my ID.

"Where's the picture?" He asks, tapping the ID.

"I'm new. Check with Captain Frye or Mister Singh."

"Naah. Not even these vultures could make a phony ID this good. If they did, it'd have a photo. Go in and see the detectives. Be careful because Chyre is in a mood."

I nod and make a note to watch out for whoever Chyre is. I bend down and cross under the tape and walk up the stoop inside the apartment.

"CSU!" I call out as soon as I'm in the front door.

"About ****ing time!" A voice says from down the hallway. A large, stony faced man turns the corner and looks at me.

"Who the hell are you?"

"Uhh, Bart Allen...sir. I'm new."

"Jesus ****ing Christ. We got a double here and Singh sends us a ****ing rookie?! Oh my ****ing God. How old are you, kid?!"

"Twenty-two," I mumble out.

"Goddammit! I got stains on my carpet older than you! ****!"

My magnificent powers of deduction tell me that this is Chyre.

"You at least know what to do?"

"Take photos, dust for prints, collect trace evidence."

"There we go! They must of pulled you out of MIT! Goddamn rocket scientist we got here!"

"Fred," a latino man says as he walks down the hallway. "Leave the kid alone. He's already nervous as hell, you cussing him out won't help matters."

The detective holds his hand out. "Detective Jared Morillo. This piece of crap beside me is Detective Fred Chyre. We're Robbery/Homicide."

"Bart Allen, sir. CSU."

"Well, Bart Allen, welcome to the dark side of human nature. Get your camera and follow me."

I pop open the briefcase and look inside. There's a pack of latex gloves, a pack of cloth shoe covers, a camera, a fingerprint kit, tweezers, a small cordless vacuum, and plastic baggies. I grab a set of cloth covers and put them over my sneakers before I slide on a set of gloves and grab the camera, following Morillo and Chyre down the hall.

"Any experience in this, Bart?" Morillo asks.

"I did mark crime scenes in college, but that was it."

Chrye scoffs. "Well, this ain't school. We've had plenty of techs **** up on us and ruin cases. Don't put your name on that list."

"Fred, shut the hell up," Morillo barks. "Him and I will help you through it. Here we go."

I follow the two of them up a flight of stairs and into a bedroom. Laying on the bed, clad in boxers, is a dead man. There are nearly two dozen stab wounds on the man's chest.

"Get a shot from the entrance, then a close up shot of his chest, then one from the side."

I hold the camera up and snap the shot before gingerly walking into the room. Last night was hot, and the body is already starting to smell a bit funky. I've seen a few dead bodies as Flash, but nothing outside the recently deceased. Better get used to it, Barty boy. You'll look back and say this was one of the easier ones.

I get the shots off and follow the two detectives into the next room taking shots of another man in bed, naked except for underwear. Like the other victim, he has stab wounds, except only fewer. Laying on the floor beside the bed is a bloody butcher knife.

"Same as with the other victim." Morillo instructs. I snap off the shots and turn to the two detectives.

"What happened, if you don't mind my asking?"

"What if we do?" Chyre grunts. "You're just a lab rat. We put the pieces together."

Morillo rolls his eyes at Chyre and looks at me. "A home invasion last night. Somebody killed both of these men in their sleep and robbed them. Based on the number of wounds and the power behind the stabs, it's safe to say a man murdered them."

"Do you got all the shots you want?"

"Yeah. We need trace evidence and fingerprints now. The murder weapon"

"Alright."

I head down to the first floor and pass through the kitchen. I stop and catch something. There's a glass sitting on the edge of the counter, separate from all the other clean glasses. It was hot last night. Stabbing two men to death is hard work.

"Detectives?"

"You get lost, kid?" Chyre cracks as he comes down the stairs. I point towards the glass.

"It was what, in the 90's last night? I didn't see any air conditioner upstairs. It had to be around 100 degrees upstairs."

Chyre looks at the glass and it clicks.

"Holy ****! Get your fingerprint gear, kid."

I get the kit and dust down the glass. It comes back with a latent thumbprint of a man with a history of sex crimes and robbery. A friend of the victims identifies him. He was last seen with boy victims the night of the murder, they were leaving a nightclub and headed home. A day after the murder, Chyre and Morillo get him in an interrogation room and he folds under pressure. He confesses to both murders.

I watch it all go down from the other side of the two-way mirror. He's crying and Morillo is consoling him when Chyre leaves.

"Allen," he grunts, extending his hand to me. "Nice catch."

It's hard to contain the grin I feel like showing, but I do it as I shake his hands. "Thank you, sir."

"Call me Fred."

"I will, Fred."

"Allen!" I hear Singh calling from the squadroom. "Where the hell are you?! There was a B&E over at Saxon Jewelry. They need CSU there."

Chyre slaps me on the shoulder. "Get going...Oh, and Allen? You work another case that I'm on, and you **** up the evidence? I'll snap your goddamn neck."

I gulp and Chyre laughs. "I'm ****ing with you! Get the hell outta here!"

Central City, MO


Racing down the streets of Central in full on Flash mode. I'm on my lunch break, so I figured I could get a few runs through the Twin Cities before I have to head back to work.

"Dispatch to all units," the radio embedded in my right ear piece goes off. "Dispatch to all units. We've got a 40-16 at the corner of West 23rd and Fox Avenue."

A 40-16 is a murder with a possible hostage situation.

I'm at the location within a few seconds, coming to a stop in front of a man in a dark suit who's standing in the street, a dead body at his feet.

"Ah, so you are the one I am being paid to kill?" He asks in a thick Russian accent. "I was told you were a man. Instead they send me boy in Halloween costume. You are not man."

"Yeah?" I say my temper beginning to rise. "Care to find out what I can do, friend?"

"Of course...SABBAC!"

The street ignites in a great flash of flames, I cover my eyes to shield myself from the light and fire. By the time I can see straight, a powerful hand wraps itself around my neck and picks me up in the air.

"Now you face my power. The power of the demon."

 

[MST3K 4ever]

The Atom transforms back into Rhiannon Palmer and takes a look around her apartment.

This place feels a whole lot different after living in a castle. Not that I'm upset, but the lack of people and how big it was it just feels like I am living someone else's life now.

She still sees the urgent message from Pete.

In a minute....something I have to do.

Rhiannon cuts on her lap-top and prints out a picture of her family. She then places it in a frame and puts it next to her bed. She just stares at it for a moment and finally she says, "Okay time to get back to work."

Rhiannon checks her message from Pete and all he says is, "Call me ASAP!"

Rhiannon calls Pete who says, "Where you've been the last couple of days? Been trying to reach you!"

Rhiannon replies, "Sorry I've been out of town. What's up?"

Pete says, "I figured this might interest you. Amanda Waller resigned effective 24 hours ago."

Rhiannon feels herself smile as she says, "Really! Well that makes the day a little brighter."

Pete replies, "Yeah apparently the people she bullied & blackmailed into making her CADMUS operation happen found out she was in India, basically in the dead-letter office, and that her CADMUS building imploded. It's like the sharks smelled the blood and went after her. They no longer see her as a threat. She told me to tell you that you won. Waller is still trying to deal with the fact you beat her it has really screwed her up. She's out of your life and is damaged goods and probably on her way to Switzerland by now."

Rhiannon says, "Yeah but you and I know she'll never see the inside of a jail cell even if she ever does leave."

Pete replies, "True, but like I said she's damaged goods no one is going to back her up anytime soon. In fact her two main cronies Mercer and Walker are already looking to cut deals."

Rhiannon says, "Couldn't happen to a nicer group. Thanks Pete."

Pete says, "No Problem I...wait a minute are you busy right now?"

Rhiannon replies, "No not really what's up?"

Pete says, "We got someone who just swooped in near the Suicide Slums area wearing a metal suit and causing all kinds of trouble. Can you take a look?"

Rhiannon says, "Get me a phone number for the area and I'm on my way."

Pete gives her a number and Rhiannon transforms back into The Atom and takes off to Suicide Slums area.

She re-emerges from a phone and out into the street.

The Atom grows back to 6 inches and sees what can best be described as metal bird.

She says, "All-right Bird-Man it's time for you to go back to your cage!"

The metallic figure stops and hovers in place. It says in a computerized voice, "Great! I come out here for battle expecting Superman, Wonder Woman, or even that punk The Flash and I get the littlest Justice Leaguer! No matter! It'll be the easiest 25 Billion I've ever made! My name is Steel-Jacket prepare to end up in a pine-box or your case a match-box!"

Atom says, "Twenty five Billion? What are you talking about?"

Steel-Jacket says, "The Legion of Doom has put a price-tag on each of your heads! And I not only aim to collect but make my legend taking any and all of you out!"

Steel Jacket rockets upward and the begins a nosedive towards Atom.

 

[Byrd Man]

​

Previously

Spoiler

Oregon


I pull my pickup off the interstate and swing into a gas station just off the exit. I'm pulling up to the gas pump when I see the silver Lexus pull off the off-ramp. I first noticed it following me when I left South Dakota. They've stayed back enough that most people wouldn't notice them. But I ain't most people.

Aurora is only sixty miles away, but Red Crow's people don't know where I'm headed. I quickly fill up and pay for my gas before they get a chance to double back. I even go some backass way to the town to try and lose them.

The town of Aurora is just what you think it'd be, a damn pitstop with barely enough people to call it a town. It's four in the afternoon when I come to town, but the local bar is already open. I head inside and draw a few strange stares from the regular winos and smokehounds when they catch sight of my face.

"'Scuse me," I say to the bartender as I step up to the bar. "Shot of whiskey. Don't care what kind."

The bartender looks me over and flinches. He quickly runs off and fills up a shot glass with Wild Turkey. I take the shot glass and upend it, recoiling slightly at the taste. Don't care how big a man's dick is, or how many people he puts in the ground, he will always make that face at the taste of whiskey.

"Go again."

He fills up the glass again and I upend it quickly, letting the warm liquid slide down my throat and into my belly.

"How much do I owe ya?"

"Six and a half bucks."

I pull out a twenty and hand it to him.

"You help me out with something, I'll let you keep the change."

"What do you want to know, friend?"

"Looking for a man named Lash. Any Lash's living in the area?"

"There was a Lash lived out on Boone's Ferry Road. She died a few years back. Don't know if anyone bought her house, the economy being what it was."

"Alright," I say with a tip of my hat. "Thanks for the help."

It's a few minutes drive out to Boone's Ferry Road. There's a rundown and dilapidated house off the road. The only one on this stretch of highway. I pull up into the driveway and kill the engine. The house hasn't been lived in for some time, but I can tell somebody's recently moved in. The high grass is beaten down around the front door. There's fresh tire tracks in the mud. The shuttered windows are still shut, but they're out of position from where they were.

I pull the .45 from the holster resting in the small of my back. I get out the car and keep the gun down at my side as I walk up to the house. I stop short and walk around the house, wading through the high grass. A black sedan is parked behind the house. It matches the description of the one Red Crow said Lash was driving. I lean against the back door and listen. I can hear grunts and moans coming from inside. I smile and step back, holding the gun out as I swing my leg forward and kick the doorframe in.

I run through the open door and run in on Lash and his Indian princess, naked on an air mattress and going at it. They both scream, Lash climbs off of her and begins to run bare ash through the empty house. Cursing under my breath, I chase after him, jumping over the air mattress and the naked Indian woman as I run. Lash is almost out the front door when I catch him, barreling into him and crashing through the front door. I land on top of him and pin his naked body to the ground. Most hunters stick around the business and you develop pet peeves. Tackling naked people is right up there with meth heads who won't stay down.

"Damn you, Lash. This is for making me run," I knee him in the back and he grunts. I give him another knee to the back. "And that's for making me tackle you while you're naked."

I stand up and jerk him up to his feet.

"You're coming with me, ***hole."

Aurora, Oregon


Lash, wearing only a pair of jeans, is on the air mattress with his hands tied together behind back with a zip tie. Lash's girlfriend Proud Feather is restrained in the same manner.

I'm beside them, looking through the provisions they had stored in the house. Clothes, canned food, a pump-action shotgun, and a box of shells and that's it.

"Where's Red Crow's money, Lash?"

"It's not Red Crow's money, friend. It's all mine, won it fairly."

"The hell you say. You're a card cheat."

"Counting cards is perfectly legal, albeit frowned upon by most gaming establishments. It's not cheating. It's using the game's flaws to your advantage."

"Uh-huh. Ya'll can tell that to Red Crow when he strings you up by neck..."

"Listen, Mister..."

"Hex."

"Mister Hex. If I show you were the money is, will you let me go?"

"That ain't part of the deal. I bring in you, the girl, and the money. It's a package deal."

I walk back into the room where Lash and Proud Feather are sitting and look down at them. I reach into my boot and pull out my Bowie knife.

"My patience is starting to run thin. Now tell me where the goddamn money is."

"Tell him already!" Proud Feather hisses.

"Soon as we tell him, we're as good as dead. Both of us. You think Red Crow won't skin you alive because you're an Indian? You're sorely mistaken. Look, Mister Hex, how much is Red Crow paying you? Can't be much."

"It's enough."

"Look...after we left Prairie Rose, we hit up a few of the other casinos in South Dakota, even made a quick pit-stop in Vegas. I got over a hundred grand stashed. You let us go, I'll split it with you."

I look down a Lash and slowly shake my head.

"No can do. Won't find much work if word gets around I betray the folks who hire me."

A car door shuts outside and I turn away from Lash. I walk down the hallway to the front window, peering out at the silver Lexus parked behind my truck. Dammit. They must have followed me close enough to find Aurora. Shouldn't have been hard enough to find out I was here if they asked around.

The big, pierced Indian, Shunka, leads three of his buddies up to the front door of the house. Shunka knocks on the door and waits. I walk up to the door, pulling out my gun.

"Who's there?" I ask.

"Open up, Hex," Shunka says from outside. "We come to collect Lash and Proud Feather."

"I seem to recall collectin' them was my job..."

"Red Crow thought you might need help."

"Well, I have things well under control. No need to intervene."

"I don't think you understand me, ***hole. We're collecting that ****ing card cheater and his smoree. Now open the goddamn door."

"You give me my money, and I'll hand them over."

"We got it out here, Hex. Come and get it. It's all the money Red Crow promised you and then some. He's so goddamn happy, he gave you a raise."

"Alright, let me go get Lash and Proud Feather."

I walk back through the house where Lash and Proud Feather are. He's laying on the floor, struggling against his bonds.

"Get the hell up!" I growl, jerking him to his feet. "This money you got stashed, is it safe?"

"Safe enough."

"That's gonna have to do. Those sons of *****es outside are about to **** me over, I can feel it. You get ****ed over as much as I have, you develop a sense for these things."

I holster my gun and walk over to the pump, picking it up and racking a load into the barrel.

"Both of you find cover and hide right now. Body parts and bullets are about to be flying."

 

[Batman]

Okay, Selina. Just breathe.

You've dealt with worse than this.

My convienient little moment of reassurance aside, I have no idea how to get myself out of this. Usually, I'd try and improvise - which is what I've always been good at - by observing what I have at my disposal. But it's pretty hard to get a handle on your surroundings when some creep with a gun has the bottom of his boot clamped hard against your throat. I try and mask the fear in my face as he lowers his gun towards my temple, but given the shift in his body language, I don't think that I'm doing a very good job. If it weren't for that stupid helmet he's wearing, the guy would probably be smiling. Just my luck. I always envisioned dying an old woman, surrounded by siamese cats and jewels as far as the eye could see, laying in a bed with silk sheets overlooking the Paris skyline. Instead, I'm going to go out at twenty-six with a bullet in my brain.

How luxurious. At least it'll be quick.

"You're lucky."

After preparing myself to wince, I hear that and stare back up, confused.

He retracts the glocks. My jaw nearly drops. What the hell is he doing?

"Huh?"

Even though he still has me pinned, I can tell that he's not as tense.

"Only meant to tag you, but you complicated things by running. Now that I've got you down, we don't need to resort to nastier means."

I sneer back at him.

"Gee, thanks. And here I was, all concerned."

"I noticed. But if I wanted you dead, we wouldn't be speaking right now."

He kneels down, reasserting the strain on my throat.

"So now that we're cleared on that, why don't we head back to square one? You were just about to tell me what the hell you were doing here..."

You know, it's funny, but I don't exactly remember ever agreeing to do anything of the sort. But considering sweet old Irena didn't raise no fool, I decide not to bring up that little detail to the guy still packing enough heat to render me a stain on Wayne's floor. Instead, I force a smirk, trying not to show my displeasure at this idiot's tenacity.

"A girl can never kiss and tell. But if you must know, I'm what you'd consider a professional at taking nice and valuable things that nobody would miss."

"Oh. So you're not a would-be killer, just a would-be thief."

I scoff, almost offended.

"Would-be nothing. Half of the mob's pockets just became lighter because of me, and I figured Wayne's art collection would be next on my list."

Red crosses his arms. "Well see, that's where you and I are going to have a bit of a problem. I don't like thieves."

"And I'm not terribly fond of having my throat crushed in, so that makes us even."

"No, even would be the cat never deciding to slink out of whatever alleyway it lived in and bothering Bruce Wayne's penthouse in the first place."

My eyes burn back at him.

"Yeah, well it sounds like Mr. Wayne has a hell of alot more to worry about tonight, doesn't it?"

His fists tighten together and his muscles begin to tense up. Badly handled, Selina. You must have just touched a nerve. Kneeling down, he grabs me by the top of my head. I try and grab back at his grip, but it's too late. He's already got me off of the ground. The guy's strong.

"I think Mr. Wayne's seen enough of burglars for one night. And so have I."

The kick to the gut comes sooner than expected. Can't even breathe as I fly into the next wall. Vision goes blurry as I realize that the concussion's beginning to catch up. I can't fight this guy - not just because he's probably trained in about thirty different styles - but also because I'm in no shape to carry on for very much longer. Peeling myself off of the floor as he approaches, I decide to stop playing around.

I may not be able to fight him. But that certainly doesn't make me defenseless.

"Oh, come on. Fighting back didn't really work out for you the first time. Or the second."

"Well, you know what they say..."

To his surprise, I unsheathe the claws in my gloves and dig them hard into his chest, slicing down into his leg. He yells out in pain, stumbling back as the claws rip at some of his skin and draw blood. I almost smile.

"Third time's the charm, *******."

Assessing his wounds, he practically growls under the helmet as he pulls the guns back out. But my hand is already tightened around the whip, ready to shred his fingers before they can pull the trigger. He clicks back the safety, I crack the handle. We're both caught at a standstill. Two bulls in a chinashop.

"Wanna shoot me? Go ahead."

"Your move."

He aims at both my shoulder and leg. He said he only wanted to tag me. I'm sure that he's perfectly capable of it.

"No, I insist. Ladies first."

I'm about ready to oblige, even though it's probably going to come back to bite me in the ash.

But we're both interrupted by sounds outside. Oh, god. I wasn't prepared for this. It was supposed to be as simple as sneaking in, getting down to the cave, and getting out as quietly as possible whenever I found what I needed. But my run-in with psycho killer here's just alerted one of Wayne's understudies - either the housemaid or the Grayson kid.

Or even worse, Wayne's assistant Alfred will come in to find all of the damage done to his home. And after he helped save my life during that - whatever it was, invasion - a year or so back, this is definitely not how I wanted to repay him.

Fortunately, Red retracts his weapons aswell, sensing the oncoming danger.

"Look, you wanna stay here and fight like a couple of children? Be my guest. But I don't think they need to find us warring it out in the middle of all that's happened tonight."

For a moment, he hesitates to agree with me. But he eventually nods.

"One condition. You leave here right the hell now and never return. I don't care if you steal from the mob - they deserve what's coming to them - but Wayne is off limits. Understood?"

I shrug. "Fine by me. Looks like most of the stuff in here is damaged, anyway. Wouldn't even be a modest score."

A little white lie. But one that I'm perfectly fine with, if it means getting Red Death off of my back. We both part our seperate ways and don't say anything further, leaving through opposite windows.

Well, that was a waste of my time.

Thanks alot, you pistol-toting freak.

 

[Byrd Man]

​

Previously

Spoiler

Siberia
100 Kilometers East of Chita

The Hind gunship flew low for another pass, riddling the snowy forest with bullets. Flag, Blockbuster, and Vertigo ducked behind trees as the fire ripped through the woods.

"Flag to Waller, how the hell did that thing get the drop on us?"

"It was part of the escort. It trailed a few miles behind the train. I was hoping we could get in and out before it caught up, but I was wrong. Calculator jammed their signal, so they can't radio for backup. We're wasting time, Flag. Take it out!"

"Deadshot, please tell me you can get a shot in on this thing."

"Been trying," Lawton said into his mic. He was on the other side of the convoy, planted in the snow with a sniper rifle. "It's moving too damn fast, and the cockpit glass is tinted. I'll give you a 75% chance that I'll hit the pilot."

"What about Vertigo?" Bronze Tiger asked. He was a few feet behind Deadshot, taking cover behind a pine tree with more than a few bullet holes in it.

"He can spin the pilot out, but it's too unpredictable. The damn chopped could crash into us. I've got a better idea. Nightshade."

"Yes, Colonel?" She asked. She was hunkered down in undergrowth beside the train tracks.

"Create a portal. In the Hind's flight path. Is it within your range to make the portal open up a kilometer east of here?"

"I can do that. Let me concentrate..."

Nightshade put her hands together and focused on the air above the train tracks. The gunship had flown through that spot in the air at least a half dozen times since it showed up. The air began to ripple, tiny at first, but going larger. A few seconds later, a large rip in the fabric of space was hanging in the air. The Hind noticed it, but it was too late to avoid it. The gunship passed through the portal and disappeared. Off in the distance, they all the head loud crunch of metal hitting the frozen ground. A kilometer to the east of their location, the night sky lit up as a large fireball shot upwards.

"That takes care of the Hind," Flag announced, coming out of the woods. "Let's get moving. Blockbuster, you're up!"

Flag tossed a harness to the large man and pointed towards the freight car. A half hour later, Blockbuster was pushing the car to the Squad's train. Nightshade and Flag attached it to the passenger car, creating a three car train. While they worked on it, Deadshot and Bronze Tiger examined the box car. Turner slid the door opened and looked inside.

Inside was a sleek black aircraft, the black so dark that it seemed to absorb the light all around it. It was a perfect match for the sketches the Squad had been shown back at Belle Reve.

"Bronze Tiger to Waller, we've got a confirmation on the aircraft."

"Good. We all set up, Flag?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"Get back in the passenger car. We're starting the train back up. Now comes the hard part...getting this son of a ***** out of Russia."

********

Moscow
16 Hours Later

Colonel Gorki was growing anxious. The top secret convoy they sent through Siberia had failed to report in for quite some time. His superiors in Spetsnaz and the GRU were growing anxious. Gorki had sent out a scout team to survey the area where they had lost contact with the convoy. Now, he sat inside the GRU command center with the little man they called Major Zastrow, a holdover from the Soviet days.

<"Colonel,"> Sergeant Pavel said. <"The scout team is just arriving. We are getting the video feed.">

On the screen, they watched as the special forces walked down the train tracks. There were dead bodies littered on and around the tracks, all of them wearing Russian uniforms. The train engine was on fire and toppled. Most importantly of all...their cargo was missing. Gorki cursed under his breath and picked up the phone.

<"I need Hinds, transport ships, and three units out Chita now!">

<"Why?"> Zastrow asked, lighting a cigarette. <"We both know I can bring in four people who can provide as much support and firepower and find you your alien craft.">

<"No," Gorki hissed. <"We will not use your washed up freaks. Their time as come and gone.">

Zastrow calmly flicked the ashes from his cigarette and pulled a piece of paper from his jacket. <"These are orders from the President, signed off on by the Prime Minister. They make it clear where me and my team stands.">

Gorki read over the paper, his brow furrowing as he read. Finally, the colonel tossed the paper into the air in disgust. <"Fine. Call your heroes. But know this: the death of them will be on your hands.">

Zastrow shrugged and walked out of the control room. He pulled a phone from his pocket and dialed a number. <"Yes, it is me. We have the green light. Rally them all around you, Hammer The People's Heroes have one more shot to defend Mother Russia.">
​

Siberia
600 Kilometers West of Vladivostok
0214 Hours


The train tore through the Russian wasteland, going down the rails at speeds surpassing seventy miles an hour. Inside the passenger car, the members of Task Force X, also known as the Suicide Squad, were checking and doubling checking their weapons.

It had been nearly 24 hours since they had hijacked the freight train carrying a crashed alien aircraft. Since that time, they hadn't stopped as they headed west towards the port city of Vladivostok. It was there they would be extracted from the country and the mission would be complete.

"Alright, here's the plan," Sarge Steel announced to the group inside the car. He had a pistol in his right hand, the left hand was clad in a black glove. "Calculator hacked into the Russian Army's communication feed. They discovered the wreckage from the convoy about eight hours ago. They've issued a bulletin to all train stations to be on the lookout for anything suspicious. The nearest checkpoint is in a hundred kilometers. So, be ready. From there on out, we're gonna have to fight our way out of Russia."

"Which is why I'm setting up a contingency," Waller said from the back of the car. She held up bricks of the plastic explosive Semtex. "We got about an hour until we hit that checkpoint. Let's get started."

It was nearly an hour later that the train passed through the village of Bikin. A whole company of Russian army troops were stationed outside the train station. They all watched as the Squad's train zoomed through the station and out of the village. The troops began chase, following in jeeps, humvees, and helicopter.

"Alright, here we go," Flag said, sliding a clip into his M4 and cocking it. "Field team on the roof of the train."

They all climbed up to the top of the passenger car. Flag directed their movements, sending Vertigo, Blockbuster, and Bronze Tiger to the boxcar while he stood his ground on the roof of the passenger car with Nightshade and Deadshot.

The night wind howled all around them and the cold bit into them. The tops of the cars were slick with ice and snow.

"Here they come!" Vertigo yelled from the end of the train. A helicopter appeared over the treeline and cut through the air towards them.

"Vertigo, take it out. Everyone else give him some covering fire."

Flag and the rest of the Squad took potshots at the chopper, distracting it while Vertigo did the real work. Activating the eyepiece attached to his head, Vertigo aimed his sights on the attack chopper. The helicopter began to wobble and shake as the effects of vertigo overcame him. With another swoop, the helicopter disappeared into the trees and crashed. Flames erupted from the crash and fire coated the snow covered trees.

"Oh, God," Waller screamed into the team's earpieces. "Everyone hold on to something!"

Before anyone had a chance to heed her warning, the train plowed into the blockade that had been laid on the tracks. The engine shook and the entire train bucked, knocking the cars off the rails. The team fell hard on he roof of the train as the cars began to tumbled into the snow. They slipped on the ice coated roof and held on for dear life as the derailed train slid through the snow and crashed through the forest and trees. Flag saw Nightshade fall and stuck out his hand, catching her from falling beneath the wrecking train. Someones screamed and Flag heard the crack of timber splitting. Finally, the train came to a stop inside the forest, almost a quarter of a mile away from the tracks.

Flag and the rest of the Squad jumped off the side of the car and began to crunch around in the snow, attempting to get their bearings.

"Gimme a sit-rep. Is everyone okay?"

"I'm fine, Rick," Nightshade said breathlessly to Flag's right. Even though she said she was okay, Flag noticed the scratches on her face and arms. The branches and limbs of the trees had cut her up, as well as him. Deadshot grunted and brushed the ice from his shoulders.

"Vertigo and I are fine," Bronze Tiger said. "But Blockbuster..."

Flag turned to look. Even in the dim light of the night, Flag could see the massive man...and the bloody stump below the elbow.

"I'm alright," He grunted, holding on to the wound where his hand used to be. "It's only a flesh wound."

"Waller, it's Flag. We've got a wounded member out here. Is everyone inside the train alright?"

"Steel here. I'm alright, save for a broke arm. Calculator got his bell rung, and Waller is unconscious, but she looks like she's alright."

"Well, try to wake her up. We need to get going now. The Russians are coming."

"Wrong," a voice rasped in the darkness. The voice's owner had a thick Russian accent. Suddenly, flood lights were on them and blinded the group.

"The Russians are already here."

"Move out and capture them. I want all of them alive."

 

[Andy C.]

The Cave.

That's what he calls it, this massive underground bunker that Mr. Wayne set up under the streets of the city. It's where he houses his equipment, his vehicles, the hardware of the Oracle computer, his entire massive arsenal that the Batman's been using in his war on crime. I stumbled upon a secret entrance left open the night he was attacked, and when Miss Cooper and Alfred haven't been looking, I've been spending an awful lot of my free time down here.

It took a good amount of time just familiarizing myself with everything, but once I got a hang of the basics, I've been hard at work. I modified my smartphone to give me a direct link to Oracle, giving me access to just about every piece of data Batman has stored on it--which is, to say, an incredible amount.

I've analyzed the damage done at the scene of the attack and cross-referenced it with Oracle's catalog of known criminals, narrowing the search down to a scant handful of possible attackers--unfortunately, all of them are big and strong enough to tear my head off with one hand. I know Batman's worked with Superman before; maybe I can find a way to contact him or the other members of the Justice League when I find who it was?

Most of my time, though, has gone towards upgrading my gear. I managed to sneak some of it in from my own private lair, but a lot of it I just scrapped. After all, why bother using stolen police gear and homemade smoke bombs when the Cave has things that make even military-grade hardware look like toys?

My suit's been re-fabricated from scratch. using weaves and plates of body armor that's way stronger and lighter than what I had before.

My mask now has the same augmented-reality HUD that Batman's cowl does, feeding me real-time information as I need it via Oracle.

My gloves and boots are now lined with thick plates to better absorb impacts, as well as extra plating in the knuckles and toes to pack more punch (or kick, I guess).

My gas-powered grappling gun has been replaced with an electromagnetic launcher with a range about 100 ft greater than my old one, and with cable that will carry an extra 500 pounds.

The clunky utility harness I wore, I've swapped out with one of his, and with it a full compliment of smoke pellets, flash bombs, bolas, conventional and electrified net launchers, and collapsible 'Batarangs' in addition to my own shuriken-like Whirly Birds. Apart from the weapons, I've also loaded the belt up with various gizmos like UV scanners and fingerprint-lifting kits in order to set up an impromptu crime lab if I need to.

Heck, even my cape is better now; it's made out of some kind of experimental fabric that can assume a rigid shape, becoming a makeshift hang-glider.

In short, everything I had as Redbird, I'll have a better one as Robin.

My phone rings.

"Hello?"

"Dick?" Miss Cooper says. "Dick, it's almost 5 o'clock. Alfred said you were helping with some of the repairs around the apartment, but I want to make sure you're not going to be late."

"Late?" I ask, confused. "Late for what?"

"For your date with that girl, Rachel," she says. "It is tonight, isn't it?"

"What? No! I mean," I sputter. "I mean, yes, it's tonight, but it's not-- we're just hanging out, not--"

"Okay, okay, if you say so," she says with a laugh. "Still, when you reach a good stopping point, come back up to the apartment so I can help you pick out something nice to wear."

"Okay, I'll...I'll be up in a minute," I say, putting all of my gear up in a compartment under the seat of Batman's motorcycle before making my way to the elevator back upstairs to the penthouse.





About an hour later, I'm at the Adams Gallery in downtown Gotham, fidgeting with my tie. To her credit, Miss Cooper actually did pick out a nice outfit for me--red button-down shirt over an open black coat and slacks, with a thin black tie down the front. I always thought old people were supposed to make you look like you were going to Easter Mass when they picked out clothes for you. I still think I should have put some kind of gel or something in my hair, but she advised against it. And I have no idea how to style it myself.

I do a quick once-over of the place to look for Rachel, and don't find her among all of the hilariously-dressed hipsters and skinny pale people trying their best to look disaffected. On one hand, I'm kind of disappointed that she's not here yet. On the other hand, I'm relieved because I wasn't sure how to approach her.

And on yet another hand, I'm nervous because now I have to greet her when she shows up, and I'm not sure how to--

"Hey," she says from behind me, and I actually jump a little bit.

"Whoah! I mean, um.....hey," I say, trying to pick up the pieces of whatever bit of coolness I had. How does she keep doing that?

"You look nice," she says.

"Yeah, um, you look......you look really nice too....*ahem*," I say. In fact, she looks a lot better than nice. In a sleek black dress stopping just below her knees, a silver necklace with a single red jewel in the middle, and her pale complexion off-set by deep violet eyeshadow and black lipstick, she looks absolutely gorgeous. It's kind of hard not to stare, honestly.

"Thanks," she says, nodding her head just a bit as if to say 'this is where I would smile if I ever actually smiled.' "So, shall we go in?"

I nod, and gesture towards the door.

"After you," I say.

We spend about a half an hour looking at various paintings, mostly a lot of abstract expressionistic stuff that kind of makes my eyes hurt after looking at it too long. I never really had an eye for this sort of thing, but Rachel seems to get it.

At each exhibit, she tries to explain the significance of each blob or squiggle or patch of blank canvas, while I nod and pretend like it makes sense to me.

After a while, she catches onto the fact that it's all a bit over my head.

"You know," she says, "if you're not enjoying this, we don't have to stick around here."

"No no, it's not--," I stammer. "I mean, this whole scene is kind of new to me. I'm just....y'know....acclimating myself to it. And besides, I just.....I'd like to know what you like, so...."

"Oh, no," Rachel says, her eyes growing wide with alarm as she looks past me. "Dick, I have to go."

"What do you mean?"

"Behind you, near the corner," she says. I glance over and see a thin man with sandy brown hair, in a red suit, trying not to make it too painfully obvious that he's staring at us. "That's Sebastian."

"The one who knew your father?" I ask, and she nods. "I thought you said you weren't going to meet him."

"Looks like he's not going to take no for an answer," she says, grabbing my arm and pulling me towards the exit. "Let's get out of here, and then we'll call the police when we've lost him."

As we start to move towards the door, something weird happens: everyone in the room starts to freeze in place.....even me. My muscles just....seize up....I......I can't move!

"Dick, come on, we've got to go!" Rachel pleads, seemingly the only one in the building who can move as she pulls on my arm. "Dick, please, this isn't funny!"

"No, I don't suppose it is," I hear Sebastian say as he casually walks up to us, looming over Rachel as he approaches. "I had really hoped you would want to do this the easy way, but you don't leave me much choice."

"Get away from me!" Rachel shouts, slapping Sebastian across the face.

The door we were trying to leave through opens, and through it step a group of six men in black hoods. One of them is carrying a candle of some kind....I could swear that it's a human hand.....

"The time is upon us, my bride," Sebastian says, as two of the men rush forward to grab Rachel. "Tonight you learn everything you never wanted to know about yourself....and your father."

Rachel struggles and writhes to get free, but the two robed men keep their grip as they pull her towards the door.

"Let me go!" she shouts through gritted teeth. "LET ME GO!"

They take her out the door, and neither I nor anyone else in the room can do anything about it.



It feels like hours before I can move again...according to my watch, though, it's only been about ten minutes.

"Rachel," I say to myself, as if snapping out of a stupor. "Rachel!"

Before the rest of the room can regain their bearings enough to actually panic, I bolt out the door, running into the street......but Sebastian and his men are long gone. There's no sign as to where they've taken her. She's just....gone.

I stand out in the street for nearly a solid minute before a car nearly runs me over, the angry driver honking his horn loudly as he swerves into the next lane over. I blink, realizing that standing there like an idiot isn't going to do any good, then run to the nearest alley and pull out my smartphone.

"Oracle," I say into the phone, firing up the AI's voice-recognition software. "I need the Bat-cycle at my location, corner of Adams and Wolfman, ASAP."

Hang on, Raven, I'm coming for you.

And Sebastian, whoever you are.......I'm coming for you, too.

 

[MST3K 4ever]

Oswald is sitting at the head of his conference table as the last of the members enters.

He crosses to the door and closes it. Oswald says, "Ladies and gentlemen I bring you news from the hospital. Though the good Doctor Fox is saying there is no major changes in Mr. Wayne's condition I happen to know that there is a substantial change."

Oswald fixes a drink and takes a swig. He then says, "Mr. Wayne is in a coma."

He crosses back to the table and sits down. Oswald says, " Things are getting most interesting. Comas are so difficult to deal with and cause great anxiety. Again more opportunity one that I was quite willing to talk to the Mayor about."

Oswald takes another swig and says, "That is another bridge to cross on another day. What I need from each of you. Good Ol' fashioned chaos. Fighting in the streets, shoot outs and things of that nature. Things that will bring the city to a point of being over-whelmed."

One of them asks, "Why not just give some of the guns to the gang-bangers, and let them have a good time?"

Oswald slams the drink down and yells, "NO!"

He re-composes himself and says, "Forgive me my friends. One of the reasons I associate and do business with you all is because none of you, at this time, do things that harm or try attention to teenagers. That is my only true rule which will not be broken."

Oswald begins to pace around the table and says, "Those of you who deal in drugs don't go near schools, nothing in terms of child pornongraphy, and no guns to gangs. None of you have ever broken those rules and I thank and respect you for that. That is one line I will not cross. Any of you cross it I will use all my resources to track you down and destroy you. Am I clear?"

Everyone nods or says, "Yes sir."

Oswald replies, "Excellent. Besides you all are creative enough to do this without relying on such base tactics."

 

[Bounce]

Benedict Arnold Elementary School
Metropolis, MA

The sounds of sirens, an orchestra of fire, police, and ambulances, were descending upon the school. In retrospect, maybe the school gymnasium was a bad place to have a fight with another ‘meta,’ the phrase that Miss Fiona used whenever she referred to Lor-Zod, Kal-El, or any of the other heroes that the young Superboy had met thus far. The child’s tennis shoe shod feet scraped against the waxed floor, the rubber of the sole starting to melt under the intensity of the heat blasting away at the thin sheet of metal the boy was using to shield the woman’s blast from consuming the unconscious teacher behind him.

The child was only mildly aware of the fact that his shoelaces were on fire, which did not bode well. Dabney had already bought him twelve pairs of shoes this month alone. Earth really didn’t seem to make a shoe that would last more than a day on an active Kryptonian child.

The fire stopped, the boy’s spatial sense tracking the sudden swell in air temperature as the red-hued lady soared directly overhead and prepared to take another shot.

But she’d already had her shot. It was Lor-Zod’s turn now.

Chucking the metal sheet like a giant frisbee, Superboy sent the warped and melted shield slamming into the woman with sufficient force to knock her straight into the rafters over the basketball court. Her blast had been enough to knock him back. It only seemed polite to make sure his throws had enough power behind them to return the favor.

But he wasn’t done with his turn just yet. It wasn’t safe for them to fight here, so Lor needed to get the fire-lady away from the school. And fast.

Pushing himself from off the ground, the child sent a crack spreading in all directions through the gym’s wood floor as he sailed through the air with a fist cocked back. Tangled in the beams of the rafters, the fire-lady had just enough time to get off a harried blast of energy as the two collided.

The roof of the gym erupted with a sound like that of a nuclear bomb detonating, a gout of fire shooting upward as debris rained down on the city surrounding the campus. A fireball spiraled, seemingly out of control, as the boy and woman exchanged a series of blows between the two.

She was keeping up with him. Deflecting his attempts at striking her even when he wasn’t holding back. Her fire burned him, his skin red and blistering from the scorching of mere contact with her.

This was a challenge.

A bubble of laughter escaped the boy, as a smile lit up his face. This was more than a challenge, this was fun. At last he had an obstacle to overcome. An opponent to conquer. This was what Zod’s were born for.

“Play a little rough, don’t ya kid?”

“I get sent to the principal’s office a lot.”

“Did the principal ever tell you not to hit girls?”

“Sure did,” Lor chirped, right before surging forward and slamming his head into the woman’s. “I didn’t listen then either.”

The woman reeled back in the air, Superboy displaying a self-satisfied smile… before the woman snapped forward and let loose a breath of fire right in the boy’s face.

 

[MST3K 4ever]

​

The Atom watches as Steel-jacket begins to pick up speed.

Timing is everything!

At the last second The Atom shifts her weight enough to allow the moving air currents to throw her out of the path. As Steel-Jacket rolls smashes into the street.

He stands up and shakes his head.

Steel Jacket says, "Impressive shifting your weight like that. No matter I'll still kill you in the end. You might as well give up now Atom! You're only delaying the inevitable; your death! Hold still and my talons will make it quick!"

Atom floats up and says, "Save it Steel-Jacket. I've taken on better than you and made..."

Just then Steel-Jacket slashes the air continuously creating stronger and stronger air currents making it impossible for Atom to keep hovering in one place. She begins to be thrown about out of control.

Can't shift weight...I'll plummet to the street and if that happens I'll be a splotch on the street. Can't get my bearings...don't know....so dizzy...

Atom passes out just as Steel-Jacket grabs her in one hand and begins to take flight.

He says, "I wonder if I should even bother taking the money for killing you so easily. Wonder how you should meet your demise. Ahh that chemical plant over there let's see if some liquid nitrogen will do to you. Maybe turn you into a nice paper-weight for Vandal's Desktop."

The Atom begins coming to but Steel-Jacket activates an small electrical charge from his suit and The Atom is quickly paralyzed by the vibrations.

He says, "Oh no you're not going to keep me from my bread! Like I said I'm making my legend with you!"

 

[Byrd Man]

​

Previously

Spoiler

Central City, MO


Racing down the streets of Central in full on Flash mode. I'm on my lunch break, so I figured I could get a few runs through the Twin Cities before I have to head back to work.

"Dispatch to all units," the radio embedded in my right ear piece goes off. "Dispatch to all units. We've got a 40-16 at the corner of West 23rd and Fox Avenue."

A 40-16 is a murder with a possible hostage situation.

I'm at the location within a few seconds, coming to a stop in front of a man in a dark suit who's standing in the street, a dead body at his feet.

"Ah, so you are the one I am being paid to kill?" He asks in a thick Russian accent. "I was told you were a man. Instead they send me boy in Halloween costume. You are not man."

"Yeah?" I say my temper beginning to rise. "Care to find out what I can do, friend?"

"Of course...SABBAC!"

The street ignites in a great flash of flames, I cover my eyes to shield myself from the light and fire. By the time I can see straight, a powerful hand wraps itself around my neck and picks me up in the air.

"Now you face my power. The power of the demon."

I struggle against the iron grip of my attacker, rubbing my hands against his arm to create friction. He just laughs and tightens his grip.

"You cannot burn what is already burnt! You can run, little man, but can you fly?"

Just like that, I'm airborne. Central and Keystone are spinning and twirling below me, getting tinier and tinier. I finally stop climbing into the air, a few thousand feet above the city, and begin my descent towards the ground.

"Oh, God....this is gonna hurt..."

I tumble towards the Earth, picking up speed as the ground rushes up to meet me. I point my arms towards the ground and start to spin them clockwise, generating gusts of wind that slow me down until I softly land on the street.

"Ha! That wasn't so ba-"

WHAM!

The demon guy tackles me, flames licking his hands and arms. We fly through the air and come down in the parking lot of Central City Steelworks.

"Burn!"

My attacker shoves his flaming hand into my face, but I vibrate my body so fast that I phase through the devil and get behind him. I deliver a super-speed punch to his kidney and cause the demon to grunt out in pain. He reaches up and tosses me into the air. I spin like a rag doll and crash through the wall of the steel mill, right inside the foundry. Molten steel is melted down and poured just a few feet from where I land.I crawl on the floor, giving my body time to recover from the blow I just took. I reach my hand out and a black leather dress shoe stomps on it.

"C'mon, dude!"

He picks me up by the necks and holds me up above him, the flames on his hand burning my neck.

"Now you will feel the burn of the demon!"

Time seems to slow down to a crawl as the devil uses his free hand to conjure a fireball in his palm. I look around for a way to escape. I can phase out of his grip, but we're too close for me to get away, even as fast as I am. I need a way to beat him...

There.

Above my head, there's a button that controls the bucket above our heads. I reach out while the devil's fireball moves towards me super-slow. Gritting my teeth, I reach up and slam the button as hard as I can. An alarm rings out and the bucket upends itself, pouring molten steel down on both of us.

I vibrate my body and let the steel phase through me, while the demon takes the brunt of it. He screams out in pain as the steel coats his face and horns. He drops me as he recoils in pain.

"Looks like you can get burned!"

Reaching back with my fist, I hit him in the jaw with a punch that breaks the sound barrier. He flies off his feet and crashes into the foundry pit, screaming in agony as he climbs out of the pit, covered in red hot steel ore.

He crawls on the ground in front of me and moans, the cooling steel coating his body. After a minute, he's still and the liquid metal is cool, encasing the demon in a prison of pure steel.

I lean against the wall and take a deep breath. Cops and the fire department are coming. He's all theirs.

******
​

IC: Jesse Quick


I walk inside Dad's study to look for my laptop. Even though I've gotten used to seeing all the awards and trophies he has hung up, it's still a sight to see.

College awards, All-American honors, two national championships, his Heisman, and all his NFL trophies are all here. I stop and stare at the three NFL MVP awards hanging on the wall. They're right above the Super Bowl rings. Rumor is he's getting another MVP award, and maybe another ring. At 43, he'd be one of the oldest quarterbacks to win both.

"Jesse?" He calls out, leaning his head into the study.

"Looking for my computer, dad. Thought I left it in here."

"I didn't see it when I was in here this morning. How was school, sweetie?"

"Fine, I got Calculus homework. Wally invited me over to his house for dinner tonight, is that alright?"

"Yeah, just don't make a habit of it. We need to have him and his family over for dinner sometime. I like his big brother, skinny little guy cracks me up."

Dad smiles and walks off. I follow behind him and go through the house, looking for me computer. The doorbell rings and Dad calls out that he's going to answer it. I find my laptop in the living room and head off to my room when I hear the sound of raised voices coming from the front door.

Padding to the front of the house, I hear Dad and some guy arguing.

"Look, pal, I don't know what you want!"

"You know what we want, Quick. We want the formula. We know you got it. Give it to us, and there won't be any problems. Keep playing coy and who knows what might happen. We might tell the press your dirty little secret...or worse."

"What are you trying to say?!"

"Oh, nothing. Just you know how hard it is being a single parent. Can't watch your kid all the time, am I right?"

Dad curses at the man as the door shuts. Footsteps start coming down the hall. I take off and bound up the stairs to my room. Once I'm on the second floor, I lean against the wall and listen as Dad starts to break down and cry.

 

[Batman]

A coma.

Bruce is in a coma. And from what Lucius begins to tell me, while there is a chance his condition could improve within the next few hours... there is also - and I cannot believe I am forced to think this - but there is also as great a chance that he may never wake up at all. I try and remain in positive spirits as he tells me all that happened in that ER, how Bruce valiantly fought to stay alive and even succeeded, but it is difficult. Nothing brings me any more comfort than before. And so I remain in stark silence, as Lucius guides me to his downstairs office and begins to give me the full details of what transpired during his surgery. Even with all that he's sustained over these last few years, with several close calls and ludicrous injuries, this is by far the worst that he has ever endured. The closest to death that he has ever descended in a life - an obsession - full of leaps towards that inevitability.

And even so, it is not yet over. Lucius hands me the report he's just filed, the log that he chartered as he explained the key points of Bruce's injury to me in the midst of several unfinished cigarettes. To call Mr. Fox a chain smoker would be a credit to tabacco enthusiasts. Normally, I would ask him to take it elsewhere, but my mind is so lost in thought that it does not even bother me anymore. I am even tempted to ask him for one myself.

Bloody hell. I can barely stand it. Why is all of this happening so fast?

"If you'll look closely, you can see it in the x-ray. There was a substantial laceration to the lining of the bone, one that nearly imbedded fragments into the brain. The trauma would have easily killed him, but we managed to decrease the risk."

He places his hands together and sighs.

"What really did him in was when we indentified a subarachnoid hemorrhage. We applied the nessecary care, but there's honestly very little to stand in the way of bleeding into the brain. Few actually survive the injury, you have to understand. It's classification falls under the same category as a stroke..."

I merely shake my head, looking over the documents. Words and terms that I can barely understand, or even care enough to decipher. My mind is quite literally racing as it stands.

"I know that it's difficult to hear, Alfred. But pay attention. You're his power of attorney, and I legally can't withhold anything."

Without directly acknowledging him, I simply turn to the next page of his report. He sighs, and rubs the bridge of his nose.

"Alright, I'll just say it. The reason he's in a coma is because of the blood trauma. Midway through the surgery, he flatlined. He was technically deceased for thirty-four seconds."

Finally, my eyes dart back towards him. Even with all that I'm feeling, there's quite literally nothing for me to say to that. The man died, but he didn't. How do you even comprehend such a thing?

"We managed to bring him back, but..."

"But in a coma."

He closes his eyes, regretfully sitting back.

"Alfred, I already told you, I tried my absolute..."

I close the report. "Lucius, I wasn't blaming you. I have the utmost faith in your surgical abilities, and so did Bruce. Your staff are amongst the best in the country."

Hesistantly accepting the compliment, he nods.

"They are, you're right. I don't appreciate them nearly as much as I should."

"So what can I do to help him now? Are there standard procedures for this sort of thing?"

"Procedures?"

He narrows his eyes. "He's in a state of deep unconsciousness, Alfred. His body is incapable of response. Nothing you or my staff can do is going to be able to change his condition. He'll need to be put on life support, which we're setting up now. A feeding tube will also be required, and he'll need to be given a constant dosage of several medications..."

I stop him while he's ahead, holding out my hand.

"Understand something, sir. I know exactly what this means. I'm not a bloody idiot."

"Nor was I calling you one, but..."

"I also happen to know if there is the slightest chance that, somewhere in there, he can hear the outside world, he's going to need someone with an air of familiarity by his side. Someone there to remind him that there is a world to come back to."

Lucius falls silent.

"And I fully intend to be that person, as I have been by his side for years. He is my brother, and this changes nothing. So I ask you again, sir."

With a deep sigh, he begins to massage his temples, obviously having difficulty with this. But he should know that no matter happens, I am not going to back down from this fight. No matter how long it may taken, Bruce will awaken this. He will recover.

"I'll sign an order that allows you to be in the room at all hours of the day. It's not common, but it's the most that I can do. You'll be in charge for everything that happens in that room. You get to approve whatever treatment he's given from here on out. But Alfred, I'm telling you..."

"That will be enough, Lucius."

I extend my hand to him, grateful.

"Thank you. Not only for this, but for all that you've done for us."

With a careful pause, his hand meets mine, and we shake. The two of us have remained friends ever since I came to Gotham, four years prior. I know that, even through his difficulties and hardships, that Lucius is well-intended and a good man. Even if the rest of the world cannot see him for what he is.

"You'll be able to see him in an hour. But I warn you, what you're going to see is... difficult, for most. Visibly, he's going to be in very bad shape. Alot of swelling and bruising."

I dismiss his concerns, standing up with the report in hand.

"I have seen him at his best, and certainly at his worst. When it comes to dealing with him, I am far from most."

"Maybe so. But you're wrong, you haven't seen him at his worst."

Lucius' eyes fixate on the chart in my hand.

"Not like this."

Something tells me he is right, and that whatever I felt I was getting myself into is just the beginning. It will be a long road ahead, I'm sure, but this is not like anything else we have faced. This will require a strength of will beyond anything either of us have ever tapped into. But I will brave it. I will brave it all, just for the chance that he can come back to us.

"So it's really happened, hasn't it?"

"Somebody finally beat him."

I try not to acknowledge the comment, as Jason Todd and I stand outside of the room watching him from the partition, seeing the machines breathe air that his lungs cannot. Adorned in a leather jacket and jeans, it seems almost ill-fitting that Mr. Todd came here to be by his side, even for just a moment. In the months leading up to his incapacitation, Bruce would often stress about the fact that Jason had not returned any of his calls or messages since a certain night of hostile argument that both of them shared some months ago. I had not wished to intervene any further, knowing that it was between them alone, but I catch myself wondering just what had led to their falling out. Or perhaps, Mr. Todd's perception of a falling out. As far as Mr. Wayne was concerned, they were still friends. And he was still one of the few that he entrusted with the world.

Which is the only reason that I called him about this. Far be it from me to pass judgement, but I have to admit - I have never quite cared for Mr. Todd, or his similarly costumed alter-ego. Something about him has always struck me as, well, indescribably off-putting. But I did not ever voice those thoughts with Bruce, and I certainly don't intend to tell Jason. After all, this isn't a cross for me to bare alone. He is a friend to both of us, so in a way, we're both experiencing a loss.

Or at least, a considerable trial to push ourselves past.

"It's unfortunate. But to be expected, I suppose."

He crosses his arms, and I see something behind his eyes. An anger, of some sort.

"Yeah. I guess it was always gonna go down like this. You can't keep throwing yourself into the line of fire without it..."

"Hitting you the chest?"

"Yeah,"

He looks away. "My dad was always telling me that before he died. I just figured it'd be me that'd go down first. Not him, not Bruce. He was always so... prepared. It'd take a hell of an enemy to catch him off guard."

"Yes, well..."

I look back at Bruce, and am forced to look away. I guess that I lied to Lucius. I wasn't quite as prepared to see him like this as I thought.

"It certainly was one hell of an enemy."

"Who, Alfred? Who did this?"

The anger returns, and I see his teeth practically grit as he speaks.

"I want to make them pay. I want them to suffer as badly as anyone ever has."

"Jason, calm down..."

"Don't tell me to calm down!"

The rest of the hospital staff looks at us, reacting to Mr. Todd's outburst. He looks around, then composes himself. I suppose I could reprimand him for his behavior, but he seems regretful enough to not require it.

"Sorry. I know it's not any easier for you to see him like this. It's just, he's my friend, and..."

I place a hand on his shoulder.

"I know, sir. We're all having a hard time."

He accepts my sentiment and walks away to the elevator, possibly to cool off. I simply turn to stare back at the man before me, lying helpless in that hospital bed, unresponsive to anything around him. It's the first time that I've ever seen him so vulnerable. I can barely even contain myself, forced to look away.

Please, sir. Fight this. Deep down, I know that you'd want to.

And I promise. No matter what happens, Gotham will still be here when you wake up.

 

[MST3K 4ever]

Most of the plant's personnel scurry from the plant at the sight of Steel-Jacket swooping in and one manages to call the police from his cell phone.

Steel-Jacket lands on a steel walk way and looks around. He unfolds his hand and looking at the paralyzed Atom says, "Well gotta say you really didn't put up much of a fight! One sidestep and that was it come on I've had roaches put up a better fight than you."

He looks down and sees a vat of liquid nitrogen and says, "Well not too worry in about 10 seconds it'll all be over!"

Atom says, "Count to 15 you'll live longer!"

She shifts her weight and the shifting causes Steel-Jacket to fall over the railing towards the vat below. As he does he lets The Atom go who floats upward and says, "I was paralyzed for about 10 seconds the last few minutes I was just biting my time!"

Steel-Jacket pulls out of his dive and says, "All-right Atom it's over now!"

He rockets towards Atom who begins to float away. She begins looking around and sees the metal piping leading to the inside of the plant.

Time to make an express route out!

Atom shrinks smaller and makes her way into the piping of the plant and begins navigating through.

Steel-jacket says, "Oh don't think that will save you! My eyes will track you by the ripples you make in the air-currents. It's only a matter of time." As he begins to tear apart the piping.


Atom gets out of the piping and enters a simulation chamber.

This is perfect!

She uses the vents and gets into the control room and makes some adjustments to the program as Steel-Jacket rips open the chamber door and says, "You think that room will save you? Pathetic little girl!".

Atom replies, "Oh it'll be enough did you bother to pay attention to the chamber you entered. It's a weather simulator!"

She jumps on the control panel and the wind machines engage along with lighting machines and rain machines.

Atom says, "This is set for Hurricane conditions! Your armor is sturdy but lite!"

Steel-Jacket is blown away and struggling against the other conditions.

Atom presses the lighting button over and over several bolts hit Steel-Jacket until his red eyes go out.

A ragged normal voice says, "Mercy please."

Atom says stopping the simulator, "Mercy? You were ready to throw me into a vat of liquid nitrogen! You wanted to kill me,and now you beg for mercy? Wrong day Steel-Jacket! Paybacks are hell! And I'm wielding the pitchfork!"

She continuously hits the lighting button. Until the door behind her brakes down and she sees Pete Ross standing there alone. Steel-Jacket lays on the floor barely breathing.

He says, "I think he's finished Atom."

Atom looks at Pete with anger in her eyes and says, "They declared war on us Pete! And once again after they try to kill us we're supposed to act like it's okay and just let 'em go! I can't do it! I CAN'T!"

Pete says, "We need to talk now!"

Atom says, "Time for talking is over! It's time to take the fight to them! They will pay!"

Pete says, "Come with me Atom either willingly or I'll arrest you and I can bring you in very easily!"

Atom replies, "All-right your office I'll meet you there."

Pete nods and The Atom uses the phone in the control room to get to Pete's office as Pete leaves.

 

[Byrd Man]

​

Previously
​

Spoiler

Siberia
600 Kilometers West of Vladivostok
0214 Hours


The train tore through the Russian wasteland, going down the rails at speeds surpassing seventy miles an hour. Inside the passenger car, the members of Task Force X, also known as the Suicide Squad, were checking and doubling checking their weapons.

It had been nearly 24 hours since they had hijacked the freight train carrying a crashed alien aircraft. Since that time, they hadn't stopped as they headed west towards the port city of Vladivostok. It was there they would be extracted from the country and the mission would be complete.

"Alright, here's the plan," Sarge Steel announced to the group inside the car. He had a pistol in his right hand, the left hand was clad in a black glove. "Calculator hacked into the Russian Army's communication feed. They discovered the wreckage from the convoy about eight hours ago. They've issued a bulletin to all train stations to be on the lookout for anything suspicious. The nearest checkpoint is in a hundred kilometers. So, be ready. From there on out, we're gonna have to fight our way out of Russia."

"Which is why I'm setting up a contingency," Waller said from the back of the car. She held up bricks of the plastic explosive Semtex. "We got about an hour until we hit that checkpoint. Let's get started."

It was nearly an hour later that the train passed through the village of Bikin. A whole company of Russian army troops were stationed outside the train station. They all watched as the Squad's train zoomed through the station and out of the village. The troops began chase, following in jeeps, humvees, and helicopter.

"Alright, here we go," Flag said, sliding a clip into his M4 and cocking it. "Field team on the roof of the train."

They all climbed up to the top of the passenger car. Flag directed their movements, sending Vertigo, Blockbuster, and Bronze Tiger to the boxcar while he stood his ground on the roof of the passenger car with Nightshade and Deadshot.

The night wind howled all around them and the cold bit into them. The tops of the cars were slick with ice and snow.

"Here they come!" Vertigo yelled from the end of the train. A helicopter appeared over the treeline and cut through the air towards them.

"Vertigo, take it out. Everyone else give him some covering fire."

Flag and the rest of the Squad took potshots at the chopper, distracting it while Vertigo did the real work. Activating the eyepiece attached to his head, Vertigo aimed his sights on the attack chopper. The helicopter began to wobble and shake as the effects of vertigo overcame him. With another swoop, the helicopter disappeared into the trees and crashed. Flames erupted from the crash and fire coated the snow covered trees.

"Oh, God," Waller screamed into the team's earpieces. "Everyone hold on to something!"

Before anyone had a chance to heed her warning, the train plowed into the blockade that had been laid on the tracks. The engine shook and the entire train bucked, knocking the cars off the rails. The team fell hard on he roof of the train as the cars began to tumbled into the snow. They slipped on the ice coated roof and held on for dear life as the derailed train slid through the snow and crashed through the forest and trees. Flag saw Nightshade fall and stuck out his hand, catching her from falling beneath the wrecking train. Someones screamed and Flag heard the crack of timber splitting. Finally, the train came to a stop inside the forest, almost a quarter of a mile away from the tracks.

Flag and the rest of the Squad jumped off the side of the car and began to crunch around in the snow, attempting to get their bearings.

"Gimme a sit-rep. Is everyone okay?"

"I'm fine, Rick," Nightshade said breathlessly to Flag's right. Even though she said she was okay, Flag noticed the scratches on her face and arms. The branches and limbs of the trees had cut her up, as well as him. Deadshot grunted and brushed the ice from his shoulders.

"Vertigo and I are fine," Bronze Tiger said. "But Blockbuster..."

Flag turned to look. Even in the dim light of the night, Flag could see the massive man...and the bloody stump below the elbow.

"I'm alright," He grunted, holding on to the wound where his hand used to be. "It's only a flesh wound."

"Waller, it's Flag. We've got a wounded member out here. Is everyone inside the train alright?"

"Steel here. I'm alright, save for a broke arm. Calculator got his bell rung, and Waller is unconscious, but she looks like she's alright."

"Well, try to wake her up. We need to get going now. The Russians are coming."

"Wrong," a voice rasped in the darkness. The voice's owner had a thick Russian accent. Suddenly, flood lights were on them and blinded the group.

"The Russians are already here."

"Move out and capture them. I want all of them alive."

The battle raged on between the two sides. Suicide Squad vs. their Russian attackers.

Bronze Tiger ran through the trees, sliding into the snow to avoid the high kick from the young man. He was a former Spetsnaz commando trained in a laundry list of martial arts. His code name was Bolshoi.

Vertigo pulled out the Luger in his belt and fired at the fat, bearded man. The bullets absorbed into his corpulent waist and disappeared. The man laughed and clapped his hands together, creating an explosion that knocked Vertigo to the ground. The bearded man was known as Molotov.

Rick Flag and Deadshot were hunkered down behind trees as the large man in the suit tore through the forest. Flag peeked out from behind his tree and fired a quick three round burst at the man. The bullets ricocheted off his body with metallic dings. Stalnovolk drove his hands through a tree and toppled it with a mighty push. The tree cracked and fell to the ground between the two trees Flag and Deadshot were hidden behind.

Nightshade moved to her right and avoided being cleaved in half by the sharp sickle in her opponent's hands. The woman cursed in Russian and swung high, slicing off part of Nightshade's hair as she ducked.

Finally, Blockbuster stumbled backwards against a tree as the tall, blonde man came crashing down with a hammer. The hammer struck the tree and sent shards of timber flying into the air all around the two men. Blockbuster swung with his left arm, the only good arm remaining after his right arm had been amputated from the elbow down in the train crash.

From a distance, Major Pasha Zastrow watched with a cigarette in his hands. The excitement and joy he felt progressed as he watched his team take it to the Americans. I had been nearly twenty years ago when he was told his little project was as dead as the Soviet Union he had sworn to protect. It had taken him decades of politicking, and bartering, but they were finally proving the idiots in Moscow right.

The People's Heroes were proving their worth.

Bronze Tiger and Bolshoi traded blows, both men parrying each other with lightning speed. Turner landed a solid blow to the Russian's kidneys, but not before Bolshoi delivered a karate chop to his neck.

Vertigo hit Molotov with a wave from his eyepiece. The fat man began to sway and stumble against the effects. Before he fell, he struck out blindly and hit Vertigo with a blast from his hands. The fiery blast of energy struck Vertigo flush in his chest and engulfed his upper body in flames. The Vlatvian thief screamed out and dove into the snow, putting out the fire. When he pulled his head from the melted snow, burns and soot covered Vertigo's face, his eyepiece melted from the fire.

Stalnovolk broke through the tree harboring Rick Flag and tore the trunk apart with his steel hardened hands.

"Hello, my friend," the big Russian grunted as he looked down at Flag. "I look forward to playing the soccer with your skull."

"Always been more of a baseball fan, myself," Flag quipped, tossing a hand grenade at Stalnovolk and running. The Russian caught it as it exploded. Shrapnel tore into his suit and ripped it to shreds, but the skin underneath the clothes was unaffected.

Flag ran past Deadshot and motioned for him to follow him. Bronze Tiger and Bolshoi were fighting off to their side.

"Let's change dance partners. Tiger, you're with me. Deadshot, Bolshoi is all yours."

Turner landed a kick to the young man's ribs before he turned and ran towards Flag. Bolshoi gave chase, but slid on the ice as Deadshot stepped in front of him.

"I am trained in all forms of combat," Bolshoi boasted in broken English. "Karate, Tia Kwan Do, Jujitsu, even Brazilian and Israeli martial arts. All my training, that man was the only one who could rival me. You think you are better?"

"Yeah," Lawton said, aiming his gun gauntlets at Bolshoi. He let loose with his guns, racking bullets up and down Bolshoi's body. The young man fell to the snow, smoke drifting off the bullet holes in his chest. Lawton stood over him and looked down. "My guns just beat all that bull****."

"Rawwr!" Blockbuster yelled out a hundred feet to Lawton's right. He was fighting Hammer one-armed, and struck the man with his fist. The large Russian recoiled from the blow and crashed into a tree. Blockbuster went on the offensive, grabbing Hammer by the head and slinging him into the air. Hammer bounced off trees like a pinball and landed to the ground with a hard thump. Blockbuster reached into the snow and picked Hammer's weapon off the ground.

Farther off in the battle, Nightshade struck Sickle in the face with her fist and tackled the woman to the ground. The two women tussled in the snow and Nightshade reeled back in pain, there was a deep gash on her upper left arm from Sickle's weapon. Sickle pounced, driving Nightshade into the snow and raised her sickle up to strike. Nightshade twisted her body around and caught Sickle's wrist mid-strike and stopped the sharp blade just inches away from her face.

Bronze Tiger leaped in front of Stalnovolk, easily dodging his lumbering strikes. The big Russian growled as Bronze Tiger delivered a quick blow to his kidneys.

"You cannot hurt me, black!" He grunted as he swung. "I am having skin like steel!"

Tuner slid underneath Stalnovolk's legs and climbed the large man like a tree, wrapping his legs around the Russian's thick neck.

"Let's see how hardened your eyes are," Tiger said, driving his thumbs into Stalnovolk's sockets. The big man screamed and shook, trying to sling Turner off of him. Turner felt the right eye of Stalnovok pop and squirt on to his gloved hands. The Russian fell to the ground, wriggling in pain as Turner jumped away.

Zastrow began to feel nervous as the fight wore on, his initial joy turning to dread. Two members of the People's Heroes were down, while the Americans fought on. Flag aimed and shot Sickle through the neck. She collapsed on top of Nightshade, her sickle sticking into the snow. Now, three of the Russian heroes were down and Zastrow was worried.

Flag and Deadshot turned their attention to Molotov, who was chasing after Vertigo. The two men let loose into Molotov with their weapons, only to have the absorb into his fat rolls.

"It is useless, stupid Americans" Molotov chided as he turned his attention to them. "Molotov takes your bullets and makes them go boom."

"Lawton, change your ammo. Incendiary rounds."

Deadshot flicked a button on his gauntlets and let loose on Molotov, striking him in the stomach and catching his body on fire.

"No!" He screamed out as the flames engulfed him. "Nooo!" With a bright flash, the Russian went up in a fiery explosion.

Hammer was back on the attack, charging towards Blockbuster. Blockbuster growled and swung the hammer at its owner, striking Hammer in the jaw and dropping him to the ground. The blonde man fell into the snow with a loud thud, he was unconscious almost immediately.

Bolshoi was bullet ridden, Stalnovolk was missing an eye, Molotov was ashes, Sickle had a hole in her neck, and Hammer had a shattered jaw and concussion. The People's Heroes were down.

"No," Zastrow spat out. "No!"

The small man pulled a pistol from his coat and aimed for Flag.

BLAM!

Zastrow fell to the ground, a bullet hole in his chest. The team turned and saw Amanda Waller and Sarge Steel standing on the wreckage of their train, a rifle was in Steel's hands.

"We need to get out of here," Waller said, holding her head as she talked. Sarge reached into the train and helped pull Calculator out of the derailed car. "Backup is probably on its way. I'm authorizing our contingency plan. Let's move out."

The team marched a mile through the woods, heading west towards the Pacific Ocean, which was still nearly 500 kilometers away. Steel tended to the stump of Blockbuster's arm while Waller and Flag looked east towards where they had come from.

"Ready when you are," Flag said, a detonator in his hands.

"Do it."

Flag pressed the detonator and heard the beep as it sent out its signal.


Ninety Minutes Earlier


Flag, Turner, and Vertigo went to work on the boxcar while the train was stopped. They placed Semtex on the boxcar's axel, on the sides, and on the roof. Steel and Waller were placing the plastic explosives on the passenger car while Deadshot and Blockbuster made sure the engine had plenty of plastique attached to it.

"It's good enough," Waller said. "Just remember, this is a backup plan only. Just in case it all hits the fan."



Now

The team watched as their train went up in a massive fireball, destroying the cars as well as the alien aircraft they had invaded Russia to steal.

"It's done. We may not get the UFO out of Russia, but you can damn sure bet the Chinese ain't getting it now."

Waller looked around at the team. They were all bruised, bloody, and burnt. One was even a limb lighter than he had been when this mission started out.

"Alright, we still got an evac to get to. 500 kilometers of Russian tundra to fight across. Sooner we get started, sooner we're out of here or...dead. Let's get going."

 

[Carnage27]

Cyborg
​

They came without warning. The ceiling of the Authority's mansion explodes in a ball of fire and sound. From the gaping hole, drop a slew of genetically enhanced soldiers, led by a man in a shining costume. He blasts lasers from his eyes towards me, and I roll out of the way, pushing Jenny Quantum towards Sparks, "Get her out of here!"

I sprint quickly, sliding underneath a punch from a man that seems to have cybernetic implants like me. Looks like Stormwatch didn't waste any time using the technology that built me on others. I reach my weapons and quickly attach my sonic cannon to one arm and an energy blade to the other. I turn and fire a shockwave into a group of enemy soldiers, sending them flying through the air.

"How dare you," the man in the yellow and white costume growls at me. "We made you what you are today. We gave you a life better than anyone could have ever done. We made you a god!"

He throws another blast of energy my way, and I fire another blast from my canon, deflecting the energy and pushing the attacker back, "No. You stole my life. You made me into something that's only half human and erased me from existence. And for that, I'm going to kill you all."

"I'd like to see you try," he smiles.

"Gladly," I reply, igniting my energy blade and rushing towards him.

 

[Batman]

"---issued a public statement this morning, following a two week investigation into an incident involving disgruntled former police Inspector Edward Nygma, who was outed to the press as a corrupt---"

*CLKK*

"---responsible for several counts of homicide, including the recently missing socialite Katherine Kane, the accused mobster Salvatore Maroni, Maroni's missing son Umberto, and two officers in Nygma's own unit---"

*CLKK*

"---includes District Attorney Dent and his fiancee, Gilda Gold, who watched their home engulfed in flames with the DA's fiancee trapped inside, resulting in hospitalization for severe burns. We now learn that Nygma admitted to the crime while under interrogation with Internal---"

*CLKK*

"---missioner James Gordon, who recently returned to active duty after laying dormant following a devastating attack that rid him comatose for four months, was not availible for comment at the---"

*CLKK*

"---list of Nygma's victims was finally revealed today after rampant speculation indicated foul play in several of the city's---"

*CLKK*

"---criminal charges will not be pursued, as Nygma suffered a devastating gunshot wound to the head after attempting to flee authorities in the---"

*CLKK*

"---now resides in an undisclosed location out of the city, following permnanent brain damage that has left him---"

*CLKK!*

I can't take it anymore.

After going through every major station I have and seeing that same damn report, I finally work up the nerve to shut the thing off and toss it aside, staring blankly at the black screen as my mind races with thoughts and memories. Edward Nygma - who helped me hide a body after I was forced to kill a man - who I once actually made love to in a fit of regret and sorrow - and who promptly tossed me aside after I rejected his advances and swore to make me regret it. And who once helped Batman save my life. That same ariticulate man is now rotting away in some asylum, barely able to function like a human being. I can hardly believe my ears.

Suppose I should feel more sorry for him than I do. It's not like we parted ways on a terrible note, he was actually apologetic for his actions the last time I ever saw him, at some cocktail party I was attending. Before that, we knew eachother as colleagues, then knew eachother as something else after the night that Umberto Maroni tried to rape me. I'll never forget the look on his face after he was done hacking away at the body, that hollow look behind his eyes that said he had just committed one of the most terrible things imaginable.

God. And now that man's turned out to be such a...

A bastard.

That poor Kane woman. Those cops. The Dents. And...

Maroni. Salvatore Maroni, the man that I worked my ash off for two straights years as 'Holly Robinson' to bring down. The man that tried to kill me, even after I was forced to share the same bed with him. I let him do things to me that no man should ever have been allowed to, just for the sake of watching him fry whenever I collected the evidence.

After all of that, after all of the ways he ruined my life, I never got the chance to repay him in kind. When he died and that chance was robbed, I let my demons go and decided to become something else. Someone else.

And all of this time, the reason I couldn't do it was Nygma?!

My fingers bury themselves deeper into the leather of the couch, as I feel myself becoming increasingly more enraged by the thought. That terrible man who did all of those horrible things to so many others, who took away the only thing that ever meant a damn thing to me, and he gets off without so much as a slap on the wrist for it! Now he's just lying around in some hospital, brain damaged and unable to ever pay. Unable to ever suffer for the unfathomable crimes that he committed.

I could scream. I honestly could. There's no such thing as justice, and this proves it. Nygma gets outed as a killer and I'm left to do nothing but stop and stare. If I could only dig my claws into the bastard's face, get him to react to it no matter how big the hole in his head is, I'd...

Okay, Selina. Stop right there, you've vented enough. Just breathe. Just...

"GODDAMMIT!"

Unable to be content with telling myself it'll be okay, I leap up from the couch and grab a nearby clock that I snatched from the Grissom estate, bawling it into my palm and slamming it against the wall with an effortless toss. I want to break everything around me. Tear this entire place apart, just to make myself feel better. My eyes peer over to the furniture, then wildly advance towards the wine cabinent. So many options.

"hh...Selina? What was that noise?"

Even through grit teeth and sweat that boils, I manage to let it all fade whenever Arizona walks into the room, holding her stuffed Batman toy close as she gives me a worried expression. I don't know what it is, whether it's her wide-eyed innocence or the fact that I remember being her age and seeing much worse, knowing what it did to me, but all I can do is walk over and kneel down on the ground, wrapping my arms around her and holding her close.

"Oh my god, I'm so sorry. I'm so sorry, honey. I swear, I didn't mean to wake you."

She seems confused by the embrace, staring back at the wall that was hit with the clock and noticing a dent.

"There's a hole in the wall."

I look back at her and nod.

"I know there is, Ari. I know. I'll try and get it fixed in the morning, okay?"

There's no hesitation to notice in her as she asks.

"Why were you yelling?"

Damn.

"Oh,"

I brush my hair behind my ear, trying to think up a good excuse. But all I can think of the mental image of thrusting my whip against Nygma's face, and watching the devastating effects as it cracks. I suppose that isn't the healthiest way to say to a seven-year-old.

"Well, okay, see... when grown-ups get mad, they sometimes get clumsy. And I just saw something on TV that made me so mad that I tripped over the table and knocked something into the wall."

She blinks, unsure if she believes that.

"Okay. Here's an example. You know your cartoons? The one with the cat and the mouse?"

Suddenly, she smiles wide.

"Tom and Jerry!"

"Right. Tom and Jerry. Well, sometimes, the cat gets so mad at the mouse that he slips over something and falls, right?"

She giggles. "Yeah! He falls down on the ground and hits things! He's funny!"

"Exactly! That's what I did, Ari. I just slipped and fell, that's all."

"Oh. Okay, Selina."

She yawns, as I take Batman from her and gently place my hand on her shoulder, guiding her back towards the bedroom.

"How about we go and get you back to sleep, kiddo. You look like you could use it."

"Are you going to bed too, Selina?"

I look back at the clock. Not gonna be sunrise for another few hours.

Gives me time to work off all of my frustrations in quite a number of ways.

"Maybe, honey. We'll see..."

 

[Byrd Man]

​

Previously

Spoiler

Aurora, Oregon


Lash, wearing only a pair of jeans, is on the air mattress with his hands tied together behind back with a zip tie. Lash's girlfriend Proud Feather is restrained in the same manner.

I'm beside them, looking through the provisions they had stored in the house. Clothes, canned food, a pump-action shotgun, and a box of shells and that's it.

"Where's Red Crow's money, Lash?"

"It's not Red Crow's money, friend. It's all mine, won it fairly."

"The hell you say. You're a card cheat."

"Counting cards is perfectly legal, albeit frowned upon by most gaming establishments. It's not cheating. It's using the game's flaws to your advantage."

"Uh-huh. Ya'll can tell that to Red Crow when he strings you up by neck..."

"Listen, Mister..."

"Hex."

"Mister Hex. If I show you were the money is, will you let me go?"

"That ain't part of the deal. I bring in you, the girl, and the money. It's a package deal."

I walk back into the room where Lash and Proud Feather are sitting and look down at them. I reach into my boot and pull out my Bowie knife.

"My patience is starting to run thin. Now tell me where the goddamn money is."

"Tell him already!" Proud Feather hisses.

"Soon as we tell him, we're as good as dead. Both of us. You think Red Crow won't skin you alive because you're an Indian? You're sorely mistaken. Look, Mister Hex, how much is Red Crow paying you? Can't be much."

"It's enough."

"Look...after we left Prairie Rose, we hit up a few of the other casinos in South Dakota, even made a quick pit-stop in Vegas. I got over a hundred grand stashed. You let us go, I'll split it with you."

I look down a Lash and slowly shake my head.

"No can do. Won't find much work if word gets around I betray the folks who hire me."

A car door shuts outside and I turn away from Lash. I walk down the hallway to the front window, peering out at the silver Lexus parked behind my truck. Dammit. They must have followed me close enough to find Aurora. Shouldn't have been hard enough to find out I was here if they asked around.

The big, pierced Indian, Shunka, leads three of his buddies up to the front door of the house. Shunka knocks on the door and waits. I walk up to the door, pulling out my gun.

"Who's there?" I ask.

"Open up, Hex," Shunka says from outside. "We come to collect Lash and Proud Feather."

"I seem to recall collectin' them was my job..."

"Red Crow thought you might need help."

"Well, I have things well under control. No need to intervene."

"I don't think you understand me, ***hole. We're collecting that ****ing card cheater and his smoree. Now open the goddamn door."

"You give me my money, and I'll hand them over."

"We got it out here, Hex. Come and get it. It's all the money Red Crow promised you and then some. He's so goddamn happy, he gave you a raise."

"Alright, let me go get Lash and Proud Feather."

I walk back through the house where Lash and Proud Feather are. He's laying on the floor, struggling against his bonds.

"Get the hell up!" I growl, jerking him to his feet. "This money you got stashed, is it safe?"

"Safe enough."

"That's gonna have to do. Those sons of *****es outside are about to **** me over, I can feel it. You get ****ed over as much as I have, you develop a sense for these things."

I holster my gun and walk over to the pump, picking it up and racking a load into the barrel.

"Both of you find cover and hide right now. Body parts and bullets are about to be flying."

I lean against the wall, the shotgun pressed against me. The doorknob rattles and the front door comes off it hinges. A pissed off Indian comes through the door, a sub-machine gun in his hands. He turns the corner and starts firing. Bullets whiz over my head and I roll to my right, coming to a stop on my heels. I squeeze trigger and spray the Indian with buckshot, knocking him back.

I rack another load, ejecting the smoking shell from the chamber. A window breaks to my right and a hand holding a shotgun pokes through the glass. I hit the deck as a shell explodes from the shotgun barrel. Buckshot grazes my face, the scarred side, and knocks my hat off my head. Laying flat on my stomach, I blast two rounds into the window. The shooter screams out and pulls away from the window.

I pump another shell into the chamber, only for it to come up empty. Dropping the gun and swearing, I pull the .45 from the small of my back just as another Indian comes through the front door. This one has an Uzi in his hands, but he falls to the floor after I kneecap him with two quick pistol rounds.

Three down, one to go.

"Where are ya, Shunka, ya piece of s***?"

"Right here, whiteboy," Shunka says from behind. He tackles me to the floor and drives my head into the hardwood floor. I wrestle with the big Indian, getting the advantage when I drive my knee into his stomach. He gasps out in pain and I cut his gasps short as I wrap my hand around his neck. Holding him in place with one hand, I grab his eyebrow ring with the other hand and twist. He yowls out as I yank out his piercing, taking a part of his eyebrow and a good chunk of meat with the ring.

The pain sends the big man into a rage, he breaks out of my hold and picks me up into the air, slamming me to the floor. The wind rushes out of my lungs and I gasp for air. While I'm recovering, Shunka picks my .45 off the floor and aims for my head.

BLAM!

Shunka stumbles back, a bullet in his shoulder. At the end of the room is Lash, broken free from my restraints and with a smoking 9MM in his hands. Shunka recovers from the shot and aims at Lash, but not before I cut his legs out from under him with a quick swipe. Shunka falls to the floor and I pounce on him, punching him in the ribs and breaking one free. I knee him in the balls to make sure he stays down, and pick myself up off the floor.

"Your boys are hurt, some seriously," I say, breathing heavily and wiping sweat from my brow. I touch the scratches on my face where the buckshot grazed me. It's bleeding, but little more than flesh wound. "You collect them, go get your medicine man and your firewater, and go back to your wigwams. Lash and the woman are going free."

"**** you, mother****er," Shunka growls, holding on to his balls and groaning. "You're the one who better run! You gonna have the ****ing Sioux Nation after you!"

"The Sioux Nation wants my head?" I ask, sucking my teeth. "Well, ya'll better take a number and get in line behind the Aryan Brotherhood, the Dixie Mafia, half the street gangs in LA, and the Church of Latter Day Saints."

"**** you, you ugly son of a *****! Next time I see you, I'll make both sides of your face look like dog s***!"

That pushes me over the edge. I kick Shunka in the side, right where the broken rib is, and pull out my Bowie knife. I shove his face to the floor and grab hold of his left ear. The blade of my knife cuts through his ear. A few seconds later, I pull back a red skinned ear, leaving a bloody mess on the side of Shunka's head. He rolls on the ground in pain as I hold his ear up for Lash to see.

"Next time I see you, Shunka, I'll be sure to even up your head. Tell Red Crow that Lash and the woman are going free, and you're getting your money back."

I kick Shunka in the ribs and hold his severed ear to my mouth.

"You hear what I'm saying, ***hole?"

******​

I pull my truck to the side of the road and let it idle behind Lash's car. He's in the driver's seat with Proud Feather in the passenger seat. The state line into Washington is just a half mile away.

"Canada is a few hours drive from here," I say as I walk up to Lash's window. "Red Crow has pull in the Midwest and out here, but I doubt he has anybody up north."

"We were thinking of Vancouver."

Lash reaches into the back and pulls out a stack of bills. He hands them to me. All told, it's a little over thirty thousand.

"There'd be more if we'd split it two ways."

"Red Crow hired me to deliver the money and the two of you. Feel like I should at least come through on one of those. Red Crow is a son of a *****, but you're a goddamn card cheat. I call that a wash."

"Well, thanks, I guess."

"Don't thank me," I say, spitting into the dirt. "Red Crow hadn't have double crossed me, I would be bringing you two back to South Dakota. Just be thankful he's more an ***hole than you."

"You sure got a way with words, friend," Lash says with a smile.

"Get the hell outta here before I change my mind."

Lash puts the car in gear and starts to roll away before I hold my hand up.

"Lash," I say, tilting my hat back. "I ever get hired to take you in again, I ain't gonna hesitate to do it. Furthermore, I'll **** you up so bad, it'll make what I did to Shunka look like a kiss on the cheek. I being clear?"

Lash gulps and nods. "Crystal."

With that, he pulls off and speeds off down the road. I watch, the money in my hands. Despite my warnings...I got a funny feeling I ain't seen the last of Bartholomew Lash.

 

[Mr. Majestic]

“Burn? I don’t think so. Get ready to bleed.”

“What?”

I head bunt him in his face smashing his glasses and his nose. He falls backward holds his face as I make my way to the young girl. I grab her in my arm and reach into my belt and drop leave a little girt.

“Since you like to play with fire how bout you play with theses.”

We jump out of the window as the room explodes and I shot my grappling hook to swing to safety.

“Midnighter are you there? Been trying to reach you for 20 minutes now, this is not cool. There is a reason why we have these communication devices, it’s to communicate. Come on dude where are you?”

“I’m right here.” I announce to Lonnie as he didn’t realize I had been standing behind him for some time now.

“Holy crap dude are you trying to make me mess up my draws? You really need to stop doing that. So where have you been man? Made sure the girl got home safe?”

“Uh-huh” I simply reply as take my cowl off from my face and begin to remove my cape.

“Were you able to get what you wanted?”

“Not at all, he got away before I could place a tracker on him. Doesn’t matter though because I done chasing the middle man, it’s time to go right to the source.”

While ago I and Lonnie found out that a group known as the league of Spiders where behind the kidnappings but from what we have learned about them none of this fits their regular dealings. So we have been going after anyone who clams to be working for them. But now it is time for us to stop worrying about the nobodies.

“Thanks to Jason Teague, Lucas Trent will be going to China at the end of the week to show companies what new technology Teague Industry has to offer. But Midnighter will be making appearance tomorrow.”

“So what time are we leaving?”

“We are not, you are going to stay here because I have a job for you.”

Recently my battle precognition has been showing me nothing but combat situations on how to kill my opponents. In the beginning it wasn’t like this. Fighting those kidnappers I found myself with the urge to kill and I know it not me thinking like that.

“My mom’s research I need for you to dig deeper into what it was really for. Do whatever needs to be done to obtain the information.”

“What’s the problem man? Starting to lose the ability to flash Chuck?”

“I’m starting to lose control the further I use the battle precognition the more and more my body starts to act on its own. I’m afraid if I continue to use it I will cross a line I can’t come back from.”

“No problem man I’ll do what needs to be done. Till then what’s the plan?”

“Get some rest and go home. Tomorrow we have work to do.”

 

[MST3K 4ever]

Oswald is sitting at the head of his conference table as the last of the members enters.

He crosses to the door and closes it. Oswald says, "Ladies and gentlemen I bring you news from the hospital. Though the good Doctor Fox is saying there is no major changes in Mr. Wayne's condition I happen to know that there is a substantial change."

Oswald fixes a drink and takes a swig. He then says, "Mr. Wayne is in a coma."

He crosses back to the table and sits down. Oswald says, " Things are getting most interesting. Comas are so difficult to deal with and cause great anxiety. Again more opportunity one that I was quite willing to talk to the Mayor about."

Oswald takes another swig and says, "That is another bridge to cross on another day. What I need from each of you. Good Ol' fashioned chaos. Fighting in the streets, shoot outs and things of that nature. Things that will bring the city to a point of being over-whelmed."

One of them asks, "Why not just give some of the guns to the gang-bangers, and let them have a good time?"

Oswald slams the drink down and yells, "NO!"

He re-composes himself and says, "Forgive me my friends. One of the reasons I associate and do business with you all is because none of you, at this time, do things that harm or try attention to teenagers. That is my only true rule which will not be broken."

Oswald begins to pace around the table and says, "Those of you who deal in drugs don't go near schools, nothing in terms of child pornongraphy, and no guns to gangs. None of you have ever broken those rules and I thank and respect you for that. That is one line I will not cross. Any of you cross it I will use all my resources to track you down and destroy you. Am I clear?"

Everyone nods or says, "Yes sir."

Oswald replies, "Excellent. Besides you all are creative enough to do this without relying on such base tactics."

Oswald leans back and says, "Now in order for this to work we have to target a very specific area. Namely the entire city, however I want a good chunk of the attacks on main street."

Boss Edwards asks, "Isn't it kind of risky operating like that in public?"

Oswald takes a drag and says, "No my friend. It is very risky! However it shows how brazen you are and that you are not afraid of the local law enforcement. Without Wayne in the picture, who happens to own a majority of the main street properties. Further driving down the stock prices, and thus leading the city to a crisis point."

Everyone nods and Oswald says, "Now this will take sometime to develop, and Thorne still has to play his part. If it all works out by then end of the spring Wayne Enterprises will become Cobblepot Industires."

He looks at the table and says, "And of course you will be the beneficiaries as well."

 

[Andy C.]

St. Amabilis's Cathedral. An old derelict church left to crumble in one of Gotham's older districts, its congregation left it behind for greener pastures decades ago. Today its intricate stained-glass windows are shattered frames, its stone serpent-headed gargoyles and statues either overgrown with weeds or defaced by neighborhood vandals. It's been condemned for years, but no one has bothered to tear it down.

And it's where I've managed to track Sebastian and his followers. Using my uplink to Oracle to hack into the city's traffic cameras, I was able to find footage of the specific van that they took Rachel in, and followed from camera to camera, until it led me here.

I park the Bat-cycle behind the abandoned office building next door and carefully approach the cathedral. I spot the van parked in the back, but everyone seems to have already moved inside. Once I'm sure the coast is clear, I pull out the new grapnel-gun and fire onto one of the flying buttresses along the side of the old gothic building. The grappling claw shoots upwards with barely a whisper--at least compared to the noisy gas-powered gun I had as Redbird--and I'm actually caught off-guard by how powerful the winch is as it pulls me up.

Once I've got my footing, I look in through one of the old broken windows....

"I told you, I don't know what you're talking about!" says Rachel, struggling against the leather straps they've used to tie her down to a stone alter where the pulpit used to be. I can see visible bruises on her body, where the cloaked men apparently held her down and forced her into the black leotard-like costume she's now wearing. "You're all crazy! This cult of yours is psychotic! Let me go!!!"

"DORUMA....EXONUS....ATHULA...." the monks chant in unison.

"I don't believe in any of this!" Rachel protests, her bared legs squirming, a look of furious indignation on her face. "I'm not the one you're looking for!"

"Oh, but you are, my bride," I hear Sebastian say, somewhere in the shadows of the cathedral where I can't see. "I was there when we marked your mother, I helped your father cross into this world to claim her."

"KARAMA.....TYLIUS.....ORONA...." the monks continue.

"What are you talking about?!" Rachel says. "My father--"

"--founded this order thousands of years ago," Sebastian said. "Trigon the Infernal, the slayer of the Nephilim, the rightful heir to the throne of Perdition. My master and lord. And your father."

"You're insane," Rachel spits.

"Your mother wanted to protect you from her ways; Arella wanted to save you from your own destiny. But this was always inevitable. You were promised to me before your birth, to be my Bride in Blood. You are a child of the worlds of men and of demons, and you will serve as the key that opens the door to Trigon's prison and loose him upon the world!"

"AZARATH.....METREON.....ZINTHOS!" the monks chanting reaches its crescendo.

"I swear to God I'll AAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!"

Out of the stone of the altar, a cloud of what looks like living shadow bursts forward, enveloping Rachel whole. As she screams, I can see her eyes glowing red, and what appear to be a second set of glowing red eyes above them.

I have no idea what to do, how to stop this. I don't even know what it is they're doing.

Once the air has left Rachel's lungs, she draws in another breath, and seems to suck in the cloud of shadow with it. Her body freezes still, eyes still red and shining.

"You have been awakened, my Bride," Sebastian says. "But before we pierce your heart and set your father free, I believe I shall take what has been promised to me."

I may not know what just happened, but I can guess at what he means by that. And I'll be damned if I let that happen.

I throw a flash-bomb down through the window, blinding the robed cultists before leaping down and thrashing them one by one.

"Enough," I say, standing in front of the altar where Raven is tied down. "Whatever you think you're doing, I'm putting a stop to it before--"

I'm cut off by some kind of bolt of energy that strikes me in the chest. I'm sent flying back, crashing into a broken statue of a snake wrapped around a cross. As I try to stand, I feel like my strength has been pulled right out of me.

"Foolish boy," Sebastian says, stepping out of the shadows. "You cannot stop the inevitable...."

"Brother Blood will not be denied."