"I didn't mean to hurt them – honestly. They just made me-"
"Mad?" The older woman cut off the frightened teenage girl, whom cowered in a bloody hoody, her eyes darkened with fear and panic.
The girl looked up, wary. "Yeah."
To the girl's surprise, the woman smiled. "That's all right. I can help you with that."
Chapter 1 Reckless
At thirty thousand feet there aren't a lot of escape options. With one engine already dead, the other fading fast, time was running out. In the pilot seat Mei, not usually one for flying, wrestled with the controls whilst the commotion in the back was dealt with. I spun on my heel and surged into the main area, where I had a fist fly at my face. Side-stepping, I grabbed their shoulders and flipped myself around them, then flicked with my hips, driving into the ground. They fell limp beneath me. I looked up and found Shadow, the third of the party, staring at me with an arched brow.
"So it was a little showy, so what?" I said as I knelt by the closest body and started to search his pockets. "You were taking too long."
He held out one hand, a thumb drive propped up between two fingers. "So much for one little drive."
The plane jolted violently, throwing both of us to one side. I scrambled to my feet and spun around.
"Try not to kill us please!" I yelled back to the cockpit.
"Funny, I thought you had a death wish!" Mei retorted.
I laughed. "That was one time in Milan and it wasn't a death wish. I was bored!"
"You jumped off a skyscraper without a parachute or anything."
Chuckling, I strode into the cockpit, followed closely by Shadow. "The booze was dodgy and the people stuffy. I thought I would spice things up. Seemed fair since they didn't know we practically robbed them all blind. Besides, I did get to the car faster than you, now didn't I?" I glanced at the flashing controls. "We're going to have to do a Milan, aren't we?"
Mei gritted her teeth, then nodded. "Preferably with parachutes."
I glanced back to Shadow. "See if you can find some."
Nodding, Shadow retreated. I set my hand on the back of Mei's chair, eyeing the buttons and lights like I had some idea of what was happening. I knew computers, fine – hacking was one thing but there was an element about planes and their computers that wigged me out. Maybe it was the creepy feeling of being part of a plane, feeling the world fly past me, and the ground thousands of feet below, but I didn't like hacking planes.
"I say we've got about five minutes before that engine goes and we go goodnight forever," Mei spat. "Damn! I had a reservation at Mario's tonight with my husband and you've made me late!"
"How is this my fault?" I cried. "I didn't blow up the engines!"
"No but it was your brilliant idea to take the plane now. We could've waited until they touched down in Moscow," replied Mei coolly, her eyes flashing with anger. "And yes, I know you had the deal that went south but we would've figured it out."
"Now you voice your disapproval?" I replied archly.
Mei shot me a scathing look and went to reply but Shadow appeared, holding two bags. Without speaking I grabbed one and set it next to Mei. I sighed dramatically and slid past Shadow.
"Guess this is Milan all over again."
Shadow slid his parachute on as he joined me at the back. A moment later Mei reappeared. Behind her I'd seen she'd melted the seat over the controls, holding it in place. A temporary fix. She looped her bag on and gave me a wary look, as if I wasn't about to jump thirty thousand feet without a parachute, and pray I timed my teleporting enough that I didn't become a pancake. Shadow cleared his throat and gestured for us to prepare. I touched the floor and morphed the ground beneath me into straps around me, anchoring me until it was good to jump. Mei hunkered down behind a row of seats, half buckled in, and held up a hand, signalling she was ready.
Shadow wasted no time and hurled a bolt of black energy at the door. The air exploded with a thunderous roar; the pressure almost crushing, and the air became impossible to breath. I looked up and watched as Shadow hurled himself out the door, vanishing. Nodding to Mei she launched out of her hiding place and leapt out, gracefully somersaulting on her way down. I let out a cry of laughter as I freed myself and threw myself out the door.
Bart Allen stared at the ring in his hand, wondering if it was too much. Maggie was a quiet soul, gentle and soft. She liked simple things, big books and endless pots of tea. A real book worm. As her face lit up in his mind he smiled, and felt ready and sure. For her, he'd happily hung up his suit and put that life behind him. With a nod he closed the ring box and put it in his pocket, hidden deep. It was baggy enough that it was impossible to see.
Looking out across the sprawling Central City Park, the sun bathing it all in a soft, golden glow, he knew it was the right place. A few couples were sprawled out on blankets; others played fetch with their dogs and young children tossed balls to each other. A soft breeze swept across it all, stirring up soft flurries of leaves. He closed it his eyes, felt it touch his skin, and basked in the warmth of the sun.
As he opened his eyes he glanced at his watch. His brow knitted together, puzzlement etched on his face. Maggie was late. He looked about, trying to pin her in the multitude of people about, yet to no avail. It was unlike Maggie to be late. She was always the punctual one, which was ironic since he could run faster than a speeding bullet. Which led to her lecturing him about punctuality. He'd smile and nod, then kiss her cheek, which would make her laugh and shake her head. Very little ever seemed to ruffle her or make her angry. There was a peace about her that was infectious, like a glimpse at a paradise.
"Bart!" Maggie called out.
Snapped from his thoughts he looked to the source and saw Maggie jogging up to him, her face flushed. She stopped before him but didn't smile like she usually did; there was a smile but it didn't have the same glow, the same light about it. It vanished as she sat down next to him.
"Never thought I'd see the day when you were late," he joked.
That seemed to light her up. She grinned. "I'm turning over a new life – me, the adventurer!"
He took the opening and stood up. Confused, she watched as he moved in front of her; in that moment it began to dawn in her eyes, distant and flickering.
"On the note of adventure I was hoping that you'd like to go on a new adventure with me," he said as took a knee, watching as her eyes began to widen with shock. "Maggie Alma Hudson, would you do me the honour of being my wife?"
She jumped to her feet, pale with shock. Her lips trembled but no sound came out, no words. No yes. Not the words he was dying to hear. As he knelt there he drew some glances from people nearby but he didn't care. His heart was racing madly inside of his chest, wondering why she hadn't said a word yet. Any time he'd seen someone propose they always seemed to blurt out yes straight away, sometimes before the question was fully out. Yet Maggie stood before him, pale and startled, a deer in headlights. A thousand things seemed to be racing through her mind – was she torn? His heart began to twist, like someone had driven a knife into it.
"Mags? Mags if this isn't a good time you-" He froze when he realised she was crying. Jumping to his feet he took her hands, yet found them stiff and cold to his touch, and she didn't grab him back. In fact, he swore she seemed to pull back a fraction. "Mags-"
"No."
He pulled back and stared at her. "No – no as in not now? As in-"
She stepped away from him, hands firm at her side. "No, as in not ever. I-I can't do this anymore. I can't be with you anymore. Please – please understand and…and don't come after me."
She spun around and strode off, practically running away from him. In his hand, the ring box felt like ice – all he wanted to do was hurl it as far as he could but he couldn't move an inch. All he could do was watch as she walked away, not looking back even once.
In the Watchtower Bruce sat in his private office; the only other place aside from the Bat Cave he did research, and only specific work was done in the Watchtower's office. The subject of which was sprawled out across several screens; reports of high stake thefts, mysterious groups infiltrating areas in conflict, shadowy deals between known supervillains and other dubious activities. Amongst was a few blurry photos; most contained what appeared to be different people, yet in every one there was common theme. A woman. Well, going off the rough shape, he assumed it was. He couldn't see her face. In one, he did get a side on but it was so grainy it was impossible to know her face clearly.
Lost in thought he barely heard the blip of the door behind him. He blinked and tapped the keyboard before him, the door whirring open in response. In came Rewire. Max's surviving half, whom had somehow found herself a teacher for the side kicks and youths of the League, not a full member. Her decision, though he didn't mind much. Mercifully, though, she bore very little traits with Max; both in voice, character and look. Where Max wore her hair short, almost pixie-like, Rewire – or Ellia Wilson, she was known by – wore her long black hair in a neat pony tail.
"You called," she said in a languid drawl, though he didn't miss the stirring curiosity and surprise in his voice. Since she had joined the team a few years ago he'd always been fairly distant with her, dealing only when he had to.
He gestured to the screen. "What do you make of this?"
She turned her head to the screen and stepped forward. For a few minutes she examined it slowly; then, after a pause, she touched the keyboard and the files on the screen glitches for a second. He didn't react. It was her way of downloading and processing digital information. When she was done she stepped back and turned to him.
"I've heard of them. They've been active for decades but I've never seen them. They're the ghosts of the underworld but I heard if you want something or someone, they're who you go to," she replied. "They're not exactly supervillains; more like expensive spies and mercenaries. They don't give a damn about world domination."
"You're wondering why I'm investigating them?"
She tilted her head, a stray strand of hair fell to the side of her mask. "Honestly? I don't care but if this becomes a League mission I may need to adjust my training. These guys are ghosts for a reason. They're beyond good."
"You sound in awe of them," remarked Batman.
"They're skilled and that takes time and hard work. I respect their skill – not what they do," she reminded him. "Beyond that, I know little of them. You want to bring them in?"
"I like to monitor parties like this," he said cryptically.
She stared at him for a moment, then shrugged. "If there's nothing else?" When he shook his head she nodded and went to the door. "Oh, one more thing. Friendly warning, Batman. These people aren't like me or max…They're…"
"Killers?"
She chuckled as she walked out.
OLYMPUS was ominously busy in a frantic way when we all came in through the door. Few paid us any attention, which was weird after the stunt we just pulled and the mission we finished. Normally, there was a small group waiting for us with excitement, eager to hear all about our exploits. Frankly, the lack of attention was disappointing. Yet Mei, whom normally found the attention frustrating, seemed unsettled by the lack of it.
Shadow glanced about, then turned to us. "It seems something is amiss. I should go see Em."
Mei and I nodded. Shadow slipped away into the crowd, vanishing like his name. With that Mei and I pushed into the crowd, hearing words like 'attack' and 'prisoners' stir up. I glanced at Mei but she was too focused on our destination to get any comment from her. Very little unsettled me but her silence did it. I went first into Hera's office, holding it open as she followed me in. As I closed the door behind us Mei went up to Hera.
"What's happened?" Mei asked.
I turned around, just as Hera did – all six foot of her, with her athletic frame and sharp, almost hawk-like face, and long icy blonde hair pulled into a severe bun. Not a strand of hair was out of place. For all the chaos going on she appeared eerily calm, which wasn't overly surprising, since I could probably count on one hand how many emotions I'd seen her show aside from the stone cold mask. Those cerulean blue eyes flickered briefly to me before returning to Mei.
"There has been attack on several of our sister branches; Ireland, Australia, Japan, Russia to name a few," said Hera, tapping the tablet in her hand. Behind her images of the destroyed offices flashed up, oddly void of bodies. "It seems all were taken prisoner – or their bodies were removed."
Mei slumped into a chair, pale. She'd been dating a guy from the Irish branch and it had gotten serious recently. I set a hand on her shoulder and looked back to Hera.
"We have a mole," I murmured.
Hera nodded. "Indeed. Whoever they are they are working with some very powerful people." She turned to Mei. "Mei, I require a word alone with Ava."
Obediently Mei got up and left the office, closing the door softly behind her. When I turned around Hera had swiped the images off the screen and she was leaning against her desk, studying me with those unsettling eyes of hers. Honestly, she won points for being just plain creepy some times.
"So, if this is about the plane incident-"
"It's not. Ava, I never asked you why you didn't follow your father's path – when I recruited you I was quite surprised when you said yes," she inquired.
There was a hidden meaning to her words but I couldn't figure it out. Why was she curious about my past? Now, after all these years? It hadn't been important then and it scarcely mattered now. Leave it to Hera to ask one out of the blue question and throw you so off course you're mute for a good couple minutes. I blinked a couple times, recovering; slowly, but surely.
"Because that's not who I am," I replied honestly.
"So it's for the money?"
"Pretty much."
She nodded but didn't seem surprised by my answer. That, in itself, wasn't a shock. I'd never made any claims to be anything other than what I was, or that I liked money. That, and the challenge of the work, of living beyond the rules written up by stuffy old people, was always attractive.
"Worried I might defect?"
One eyebrow rose faintly. "You could never be a hero, Ava. It's not you but that's why I like you. You're unashamedly honest about who you are. No, I asked for several reasons. Now, come here, I want to show you something."
I approached her warily. Yet the second I was within reach her hand flashed out and clamped around my wrist. There was no time to react, to think, as images exploded through my head; tearing through me like a tsunami, no time to focus. Sounds howled through my ears, a cacophony of the impossible. Then the darkness came and swallowed me whole.