The Secret Six

By Rigel7Sold

Disclaimer (also datclaimer): You know the drill. I own barely any of this; Just the original characters contained within. Everything belongs to respective owners.

Summary: The one caper too big for...everyone.

Prologue: Seven Samurai

From the Journal of King Faraday; Entry dated June 5, 2006

It's Robert's birthday tomorrow. I hate Robert's birthday. I never know what to get him. But, more pressing matters are at hand. Robert will understand. The world always comes before everything else. Super cession is a glorious thing. There've been a number of disturbances in and around the Jump City, California area. Acts of random violence by a local gang- Johnny Rancid and the Wrex Pistols. Not normally my area, but it's work. It's my job to save the world from itself, every day. Over 70 of anonymous tip-offs originate from Checkmate, for problems too minor for the Knights but still deplorable in their own way.

It's weird. Every day gets a little darker. It started a few weeks ago. It's just this bizarre sort of buildup. Not a good sign. Eh. Such is life.

King

King Faraday is the head of Checkmate, the world's top espionage agency. Whether MI6, CIA, GRU, or RG, all agents work for Checkmate, ultimately.

A former agent himself (CIA, 1969-1983), Faraday knows a thing or two about the game. It hasn't changed all that much, really. Checkmate has averted wars through international cooperation. Its most crowning achievement was when such cooperation saved the world.

But that's a story for another time.

Today is just as dark as yesterday. Not better, not worse. As close as a good sign as he's likely to get today. He walks to the building beaming with a sort of pride. Martin Faraday hit it on the head when he named his son "King," he thinks.

Eventually, he makes his way into the main control room, staffed by some of the more brilliant minds available. There are portraits on the walls of those who didn't make it, like Vladimir Dinamit and "Lucky Luciano" Morelli. Fine agents, finer men; not one of them deserved to go out the way they did. Faraday takes a moment to think of this. He would have taken longer, but his thoughts were interrupted by urgency.

"Sir, I'm receiving word from Dispatch. They've issued a Red Alert. I'm hearing that it's a code... Code 888, sir. Details are not forthcoming as to what-"

King Faraday's heart sinks. His face doesn't show it, but he is filled with terror. He prayed that this day never come. He didn't hear the rest of the communications officer's words. He didn't need to. He knew all he had to know. His mind goes blank for a moment. Seconds later, it explodes into a hurricane of emotion. But he knows. He must rectify this. At first struggling for words, he issues his command. There's no turning back now.

"Agent Savage, run the numbers on the Six. Operation Vicegrip has begun."

Shortly after saying these words, his head drops into his hands. Mere minutes later, a the main monitor is called to his attention, displaying the following list, as well as photographs

Mr. One – Garfield Logan, alias Beast Boy/Changeling/Animal Man

Mr. Two – Seymour Blakely, alias See-More

Ms. Three – Antoinette Monetti, alias Argent

Mr. Four – Roman Mulcibre, alias Vulcan/Fiero

Mr. Five – Wildebeest

Mr. Six – Robert Sissons, alias Mr. Six

Looking over the list, King Faraday felt a little better, but not much. Well, at least he knew what he was doing for Robert's birthday. He was putting him to work.

"Agent Crowley, get me full bios on every one of them. I want powers, history, and psychological profiles, by 6:00. Agents Hawkins and Dupond: assemble the Six and take them to the main Briefing Room immediately. God help us..."

Central Control was somewhat disrupted once he gave these orders. Everything seemed to be falling apart. King Faraday, with all the stoicism he'd learned to project in times of crisis, calmly pressed a button on his chair. While this action was puzzling to those who caught it, as it had no apparent effect, well...

Marseilles, France. 6:30 P.M. In the home of Robert Sissons, aging retired secret agent, something was amiss. Opening an old closet and taking out his former uniform – a black business suit, he reached into the coat pocket, finding a small electronic device that was beeping like mad and blinking red.

"Faraday," he said, realization dawning on him. There was a knock at his door. Taking a moment to change into the suit, he opened the door and came quietly.

Wldebeest had just regained contact with his herd a few months ago; It was difficult getting back to the Serengeti in his native Tanzania, but he was glad he made it in time for the annual migration. It was late; the sun had set several hours ago. He was about to go to bed, but he heard something stir, and thought it harmless to investigate. There was a man, a rarity in these parts. He spoke to Wildebeest in Swahili, the only human language he fully understood. The situation was explained to him in terms he found familiar; Mother Earth needs him.

He went along without fuss.

It was the middle of the summer in Chicago. And if Roman Mulcibre, had anything to say about it, it was only going to get hotter. In January, he was a no-good hood, pulling petty theft to make ends meet. But in April, things really started looking up. He found the Flame Gauntlets. Details get hazy, but once they were on, they weren't coming off. With them, he had total control over, complete resistance to, and the ability to create fire. And in vast quantities, too. He fought back, on his own terms, and gained a level of notoriety.

And so, he was called to the attention of Checkmate. He'd just burned down an outpost used by the local Mafia when he saw them. Two guys, dressed nattily despite the weather. He made a run for it, taking them to be cops, but they eventually cut him off. They elucidated the situation's intricacies, and he eventually agreed to come with them, if begrudgingly. When Checkmate bluffs you, you believe them.

For Argent, life was good. After that Brotherhood of Evil fiasco, she had taken a break from playing the superhero angle, and for several weeks had just hung around the ancestral dwelling of the Monettis, Monetti Manor in Hertfordshire. After speaking with the men from Checkmate, her reservations stood largely with the fact that her father was not in, and she wouldn't be able to say goodbye. They reassured her that she would have all the time she needed, later, and took her with them.

See-More could use a change of scenery. Living with the other five has been pretty... bad. Kyd Wykkyd is an alright guy, and a great listener, but there's no way to carry a conversation with him unless you want him to write. Gizmo is a bit of a jerk, Billy's company is somewhat... exasperating, and while Mammoth is usually the life of the party, he's been more and more quiet since Shimmer came to live with them. It'd be a little less weird if she weren't his sister, he thinks.

He saw them coming a mile away. And, contrary to what they were prepared for, he was down for whatever.

Beast Boy's been a little down lately. While he appreciates the friend he has, he sort of wants the friend he doesn't have more. Even though he knows it's over, he can't help but think of her. Pushing the thought out of his head, he got up to get the door. Normally, he'd have slammed the door on anybody he didn't know, especially when he is in one of his states.

But he was immediately greeted with

"Good evening, Mr. Logan. I am Agent Hawkins, and this is Agent Dupond. Your planet needs you. You are required to come with us, if you have any reservations, that's your problem. You'll have all the time you need for goodbyes later. Am I understood, Mr. Logan?"

He was shocked. Nobody talks to him like that. He hadn't yet decided whether that was a good thing or a bad thing. Dumbfounded, he managed a weak, "A-alright," before following them into their car.