Justice League
The Price of Tomorrow
Part 2
Central City
"And as we enter into this new Era of Humanity, we must step forward, seize the day, and lead, rather than be victims of a situation spinning wildly out of control."
Barry Allen stood completely still, betraying nothing of the feelings being stirred within him. The man speaking was the Mayor of Central City, Alan Trambeline. He was speaking to a crowd of mostly reporters, near the remains of a neighborhood adjacent to the Natural History Museum. The stage was angled so the camera's would see the devastation left by the Flash as he battled one of his Rogues, with the Mayor standing in front of it.
"These so called Meta-Humans must be made to follow the same rules and regulations as every other ordinary, law abiding citizen not only in Central City, but in the entire United States."
Allen listened, listened intently. He was not here by choice, but since he was, he decided he would make the most of the situation. As the Flash, he had been the one who had destroyed this city block almost a year ago. It was during an encounter with Captain Cold, who had used one of his ice grenades to freeze the entire block. Unable to slow himself in time, Allen had raced through the frozen neighborhood, his vibrations causing the city block to literally crumble.
"No one is above the law. The law is what not only brings order to our society, but protects ordinary citizens from those who would seek to infringe upon their natural rights."
When the battle was over, Allen had walked along the shattered rubble with the other emergency workers and volunteers. He listened to the people who had lost their homes, who had lost their businesses, who had lost their sense of security. He listened as they didn't just express their anger towards the Flash, or Captain Cold, but Meta-human's in general.
"Those who break the law should be held to account. Everyone must answer for their actions. There is no excuse for breaking the law. If we are to make exceptions for some, but not for others, we have a dictatorship. If we agree to disregard the law entirely, we have anarchy."
Allen was here because he had been told to be by Director Singh.
"We need everyone's focus on Mayor Trambeline's appearance today, including CSI," Singh had said.
It had been a few minutes before the day was about to officially begin, and Barry had been sitting at his desk, reading from an old file he always kept in his desk. "Why CSI? We're not much help until after a crime has been committed," Allen had said.
"This is from the top," Singh went on. "Mayor Trambeline's a rising star in his party, many think he's on the fast track to a Presidential ticket. So today, his aide's have arranged for a photo-opp ."
Barry had cocked a half, un-amused smile, which Singh had returned.
"So he wants to raise his profile by getting his picture taken by the victims huh," Allen had said.
"Props more or less," Singh had replied. "Prop's he'll use again later as he goes on talking head shows pleading for more tax payer money."
"So what do you need me for?" Barry had asked.
"Just to be there, stand behind him, be a presence to make him look like he's in touch, got support, and a man of the people," Singh had said. "And its going to start soon, so get there FAST.
Fast, has never been a problem for Barry Allen. After Director Singh had left, Barry looked at the folders on his desk, and sighed. The name on the first tab read "Nora Allen." The second, "Henry Allen." As he had placed them within a drawer, he made his usual promise; that he would look at them again, soon, when he had the time. It seemed he was always placing them back in his desk, putting them away until the day he could finally give the case the attention it deserved.
"So I ask you, Mr. President," Trambeline went on. "What are you going to do about the Justice League? What are you going to do about the so called crime fighters who are running wild throughout our states, cities, and homes, destroying everything in their wake? Federal aid is nice, but hardly enough. You must take action, and you must do it now."
The Mayor had been going on for nearly a half hour now, taking shot after shot at Superman, Batman, the Flash, and every other member of the Justice League. At some points, Allen could only smile. He smiled because during the moments when the mayor would speak with the most intensity, Allen would think of Hal Jordan, Green Lantern. Hal could never sit through an entire speech like this. Too much of a hot head, and he never hesitated to jump head first into any fight, physical or otherwise.
"Real these people in. Hold them accountable for the destruction they cause. Make them adhere to the law just as any other citizen must. We don't even know if any of these masked men and women pay taxes.
Allen smirked at the mention of both men and women; the Mayor was always good about being politically correct. However, Allen wondered if would speak so boldly if Diana were here.
These passing thoughts helped Allen endure the speech, but he was always hoping it would end soon. Then, he could back to the crime lab, back to his desk, back to his reports. There was a lot to do today, and unlike the city when the Mayor wanted to make a speech, crime never stopped.
He was thinking through the cases he would be working on once he returned to the lab, when suddenly his eyes grew wide. Through the Speed Force, he could sense the vibrations of nearly every object near him. Lately, Allen had been able to expand his range of perception by tapping into the Speed Force. At some points, with great concentration, he could even expand his range to cover all of Central City. At first, the vibrations had seemed a jumbled mess of chaos and distortion. But after time, Allen had grown accustomed to the slight variations between different objects, each having what he equating to their own figure print and unique signature. By learning to sense and differentiate the vibrations, the mess turned to order, order to tranquility, and then tranquility turned to normal.
With practice, he could even hold his perception at larger and larger ranges without even thinking. Such was the case now, as his perception was at a six mile radius or so. Everything had seemed normal, so normal he hadn't even been paying attention as he listened to the Mayor. But now, he felt something…different.
He felt a vibration that hadn't been there mere moments before, and was clearly out of place. Tuning out the Mayor and all the other sounds of the world, Allen opened himself to the Speed Force to draw in its power. Focusing his concentration, he followed the vibration as it traveled across the city. The world around him began to slow. It became so slow the dust in the air stood still, the swaying tree's became frozen in place, and the mayor's voice became nothing more than a deep hum.
The vibration was like a pulsing, and it was growing stronger. Opening himself further to the Speed Force, Allen felt the vibrations grow stronger. He pinpointed its location. Bearing west, towards the warehouse district, where the factories and industrial plants were.
In the next instant, before he could even think, the vibration stopped moving, and a series of explosions ripped through the city. The sudden mass explosion of sound and vibration was amplified by the Speed Force, causing Barry to fall backwards as though he'd been punched. He crashed on the stage as the world around him suddenly descended into chaos.
Shouting filled the air, along with sirens and horns. "What the hell just happened!" someone shouted. "Get to the Mayor!" shouted another. "Alert the police and national guard!"
Allen shook his head. His ears were ringing and the world was spinning. Get up Barry, he shouted to himself. He shook his head, and the ringing in his ears slowly fading. His vision was obscured, making the world look as though it were flying by him at super speed.
"The warehouse district!" someone else shouted. "Someone's attacked it."
"Terrorist! Terrorist!"
Looking west, Allen could see pillars of smoke begin to rise from the buildings where orange flames were dancing below. Without giving himself time to fully reorient himself, Barry dashed from the stage. He didn't bother racing into a dark alley, he didn't have the time. His friction resistant Flash suit jumped out of his ring, and it snuggled tightly against his skin a moment later. Drawing from the Speed Force, Barry was moving faster than light a moment later. He sped over the rooftops towards the warehouse districts, arriving an instant later, and relieved to see there were only minor fires in the buildings.
His Justice League communicator beeped.
"Flash, everything alright down there?" the voice on the other end asked. It belonged to Arthur Curry, better known to the world as Aquaman.
"Someone just set off a string of explosions," Allen replied as he raced into the first building. By the time he'd finished his sentence, he'd already made three trips in and out, each time carrying two civilians.
"That's what I picked up on the monitor, need any help?" Aquaman asked. It must have been his turn for watch duty in the Watchtower.
"Doesn't seem too bad to be honest," Flash said, moving on too the second building. "The Fire departments should be here soon, and it won't take much to put these fires out."
"Alright then, sounds like you got a pretty good handle on things" Aquaman replied. "Let me know if you need anything."
Allen was about to sign off, but then remembered the strange vibrations he'd felt. "Arthur wait, this wasn't a random explosion. I felt something entering the city through the Speed Force, something I've never felt before. Moving pretty fast too."
"Another Speedster?"
"No," Allen replied. "Whatever it was, it wasn't connected to the Speed Force. I could only feel their vibrations, nothing else. Can you ask Cyborg to check the surveillance camera's down here for anything suspicious."
"Cyborg's not here right now, but I can try," Aquaman said.
Allen frowned. Cyborg wasn't in the watchtower? That was odd, he was almost always there. In fact, the only time he ever left was when he was off with another member of the Justice League. However, Allen pushed it out of his mind as he raced into the final building.
However, he needed to find the answers to who set the fires before finding out where Cyborg was. "If you don't mind," Allen said.
"What are you going to do about the fires?" Aquaman asked. "They're not very big, but they're spread out. They're going to stretch your fire department pretty thin."
Allen was just about to make his last trip inside. He'd evacuated everyone who was in immediate danger, the rest would be able to make it out on their own just fine. Meanwhile, Allen surveyed the rest of the fires. Arthur was right. While the fires were small, they were numerous, and spread out. It would take the fire department a good amount of time to position themselves to fight all the fires, and by then, most of the buildings would be burnt to a crisp, and spreading in every direction.
"Well I guess I'm just going to have to make some," Allen said.
"What are you…oh boy…"
Allen continued, excited at the chance to explain to the King of the Ocean good ole fashion physics. "See, water is actually comprised of the combination of one oxygen atom, and two hydrogen atoms. Don't know if they teach you that in Atlantean schools…"
"I actually went to high school on the surface…"
"So all I have to do is combine enough hydrogen and oxygen atoms, and I can literally make it rain. I can use the lightening from the Speed Force to create positively charged Ions of Hydrogen atoms, and they should instantly join with negatively charged Oxygen atoms and create a bunch of water. Flash Fact!"
It didn't take long at all. With all the civilians moved safely away, Allen began racing around the fires. Around and around he went, summoning a great amount of Speed Force energy, and using it not only power his legs, but also to reach out on the subatomic level to find the kinetic energy of Hydrogen atoms. Charging them with lightening from the Speed Force, loose Oxygen atoms in the air became like super charged magnets to the unbounded Hydrogen atoms. The air soon became moist, then it began to raid. The water fell on the fires and the flames lessened. As the flames receded, oxygen atoms became more numerous, and it was easier to pair them with hydrogen atoms.
Flash created enough water that fires were almost out in only a few minutes.
"Not bad Barry," he said.
"Thank you," Allen said with a satisfied smile.
"I searched through the camera's, and I think if found your guy. But you better hurry, he's making his towards the museum you and Hal wrecked last year. And you're right, he moves fast."
The museum! That was where the Mayor was giving his speech. And since his speech had been interrupted by a terrorist attack he would no doubt use later when he made his rounds on the talking heads. When the fires were nothing more than a few flickering flames moments later, Flash sped back towards the museum, laving nothing but a blur of red light behind him.
If his hunch, and fear, were true, Allen wouldn't have much time. Opening himself as wide to the Speed Force as he could, Allen summoned as much kinetic energy as his body could handle. The world around him slowed to less than a crawl as he raced through the streets. It wasn't long before the platform came into view
There, he saw a man; a man with broad shoulders, blue eyes, and dark hair, wearing some kind of clothing that looked out of this world. His police training made him memorize every detail, including his -face - which looked strangely familiar. Most of the police, as well as the Mayor's guards, had been scattered. Most unconscious, but alive. They looked as though they had been cast aside as though they were a nuisance, but with only the smallest amount of injury; just enough to keep them subdued.
The Mayor was staring wide eyed with fear at the broad shouldered assailant. He was staring at the end of a barrel, a barrel belong to a gun held by the broad shouldered man. It was small, compact, but like nothing Allen had ever seen before.
He was pointing it at the Mayor's chest, his finger tense on the trigger. Allen was within a few hundred feet, it would only take him a moment more to get there. In that moment, the broad shouldered moved as though to squeeze the trigger, but hesitated. In what would pass as a brief moment for all, but seemed like an hour to Barry, he saw the broad shoulder's man expression changed.
It went from one of anger and determination, to something …softer. Allen recognized the look, it was the look of someone who was remorseful. It was the look of someone who knew they were about to take an innocent life, and hated themselves for it. Allen knew then that this man, whoever he was, was not a killer.
The moment's hesitation was all Allen needed. In an instant, he stopped himself between the mayor and the broad shouldered man, aware that the barrel was now pointing at him.
"What the-" the mayor stumbled.
"The Flash!" someone else shouted.
The broad shoulder man's eyes widened for a brief second. In that second, Allen used the kinetic energy of the Speed Force and threw his fist. With a speed slightly slower than the speed of sound, Allen unleashed what Batman called an Infinite mass punch. Allen connected with the man's chest, and the man was thrown from the stage.
"You probably should get out of here Mr. Mayor," Allen said in his most cheerful voice and smile. But his smile faded as off stage, the broad shouldered man had already leapt to his feet. This surprised Allen; the force of his blow should have knocked him out.
"Come on Mr. Mayor, lets go," said one of the guards, helping a stunned Mayor Trambeline to his feet.
"The Flash just saved the Mayor," said a bystander.
"He is a hero," said another.
The Mayor was lifted, slowly, to his feet. "Yes…" the mayor began slightly stunned. "I was saved…"
Allen didn't hear the rest, he'd already dashed from the stage. He came to a halt in the square, facing the broad shouldered man. He stood perfectly still, almost statuesque, with his gun pointed at Allen's chest.
"Don't bother," Allen said, nodding towards the gun. "No one's ever been able to get close to shooting me. Like ever."
"I know its impossible to shoot you," the broad shouldered man said. "I just want… need… you to get a good look at it. Use your investigative skills, what do they tell you…Mr. Allen."
Barry's eyes went wide before he could help himself. This man knew who he was. How was that possible? No one outside of his family and the Justice League knew his identity. Was it a trick? If it was, Allen's reaction would have been a dead giveaway.
"Who are you?" Allen demanded.
"Not your enemy," the man said back.
"No? Well you've set off some fires and I just saw you about to kill Mayor Tramebline," Allen said. However, inside, he found himself believing this man.
"The last thing I wanted to do was fight you," the man replied. "I had hoped I could keep you busy enough for me to finish my mission here."
"Keep me busy…"
But Allen didn't finish, because it all became clear. The fires were a distraction. Not meant to destroy much, and certainly not meant to kill anyone; only to keep the Flash away from the Mayor. But this man standing before him was not a killer. Barry had looked in the eyes of many suspects through his work. After so long Barry had learned to tell who were nothing more than petty criminals making mistakes, and those who had no regard for human life and would kill without hesitation. The man standing before had soft eyes, showing no signs of stress or anger. This man could have killed a lot of people already, but hadn't. This man was not a killer.
"I'm sorry Mr. Allen, I have a lot of regard for you, but I also have a mission to complete. A mission you would understand, if I could tell you," the man said, taking one step back.
"Don't do anything stupid," Allen said, bending at his knees and summoning the Speed Force. "Look around you, there's no way out. By now the Mayor is protected by every available cop in the city. They'll take him some place safe where you can't track him. Then, they'll get the word out, and everyone will know your height, weight, hair style, eye color, and face. Everyone will start looking for you. They'll find out everything about you. Friends, family, places you've worked, clubs you're a member of. You won't have any place to run or hide. Believe me, they will find you.
"But," Barry continued. "It doesn't have to be that way. So far you've only set off a couple of fires, and no one's been hurt. You pointed a gun at the Mayor, but you didn't shoot it. Therefore you didn't technically try to assassinate him. Come with me right now to the Police Station. I know some people there, good people who can help you. You'll have to do some time, but at least this can end peacefully, but only if you turn yourself in."
The broad shouldered man listened intently, his eyes remaining soft and gentle. Barry finished hoping his words would make an impact. By now he could feel the vibrations of the entire police force of Central City drawing near them. Snipers would be on the roofs soon, and this would end very badly if Allen couldn't convince this man to turn himself in.
To Barry's relief, the man drew in a deep breath, and lowered the gun. Allen sighed inside, and let the Speed Force drain from him.
However, the man wasn't finished. "It's not that simple, Mr. Allen," he said, gently. Allen narrowed his eyes and quickly tapped into the Speed Force again. However, he held himself back, not drawing too much. It was bad enough to be caught off guard by this guy, but it was worse how genuinely polite and sincere he seemed. "I still have my mission to complete, and there are far greater things at stake than my life. They can search for me all they want, but there isn't a spec of information on this world about me. Hopefully if my plan goes through, there never will be."
"What are you talking…"
Before Allen could finish, the broad shouldered man turned over the gun and pressed a button on the hilt. Another series of vibrations ripped through the Speed Force, causing Barry to stumble slightly. However, he quickly regained his footing, for another series of vibrations mean another series of explosions. Focusing his awareness, Allen found they were on the opposite end of the city.
"These were just like the others," the man said. "It's not my intention to hurt any innocent humans. However, if you do not help the people trapped in those buildings, they will be hurt."
"What are you doing?!" Barry shouted. But his anger subsided, as he saw true regret and remorse in the man's face.
"What I must," he said. "I wish I could explain my friend, you of all people would deserve to know. And perhaps would even understand. There's so much at stake, and you've already thwarted me in part of my plan." The man turned slightly, but didn't take his eyes off Allen. "Go Barry Allen. The people of this city need you. Go now. I hope we don't meet again, for I find being on the opposite end the red line as you to be very troubling. Though I suppose its all part of the price for tomorrow."
Before Barry could react, the broad shouldered man leapt. He leapt as tall as the highest building, and took off running as soon as he landed. Barry's eyes widened as the man became nothing more than a blur and spec moments later. He ran as fast as anyone Barry had ever seen; yet he could not sense this man's presence in the Speed Force.
Allen wanted to go after the broad shouldered man; he had made it clear he was planning something else. However, most of the fire department was still by the warehouse district, and the fire would grow too large before they got there. His city needed him first, the broad shouldered man would have to wait.
Florida Coast
It was bright. So bright she had to squint her eyes. She'd never had to do that before; the sun never shined where she came from. Looking up, she squinted her eyes as the sun burned yellow with a youth she had never known. It was beautiful, but she didn't have time for beauty.
Strange people wearing all sorts of unique and diverse garments pushed past her, never once giving her a second look. This had been a concern of theirs, blending into the surrounding population, and they had designed their uniforms hoping to draw as little attention as possible, while remaining functional. It seemed to work; no one thought anything of her garments. All of this lead her to one conclusion.
This was a world that had never known war, at least the kind of war that engulfs an entire planet.
S strand of her dark hair fell in front of her eyes as she withdrew her leather bound book. Her weapons were disguised and hidden well; a precaution her research suggested they would need to avoid attention from local law enforcement and the paranoid eyes of this time. It would be impossible to escape detection all together; camera's were everywhere, personal recording devices to hand held communicator's, someone would see each of them, and record them. But for now, her weapons remained hidden; hidden, but easily accessible.
She brushed the strand of hair out of her eyes and began flipping through the pages. She stopped when she came to a picture, a penciled sketch actually, of a woman with a silver head band, a chest plate that hung beneath her shoulders, golden gauntlets, a sword and lasso sheathed at her side, and pitch black hair. Beside each of these attributes were scribbled notes, and for what must have been the thousandth time, she read them over.
She had memorized them long ago, but believed in being absolutely prepared for absolutely anything. She had fought many battles in her lifetime, against many dangerous foes. But this could most likely be the most dangerous foe she had ever faced. And if she succeeded, then her next opponent would be even more dangerous.
But she didn't let the possibility of fear or failure seep into her thoughts. No. The first step of every battle was overcoming fear. Fear would make her second guess herself, fear would make her hesitate, fear would give her opponent the smallest opportunity to strike, and she could not let that happen.
Snapping the book shut, she replaced it in her garments, and began to walk. She was ready, more than ready. She knew everything about her opponent; every strength, every weakness, every possible point of exploitation.
Checking her watch, she thought of her comrades. Phase 1 had been completed without any problems; but she hadn't heard anything about phase 2 yet. She bit her lip, and resisted the urge to call. He would come through, he had too; after all, all this was partly his fault.
Her wrist watch changed the hour, and just as expected, people began to run and scream in panic. They ran past her from the sandy shore of the Florida coast as a dark cloud appeared over the water. It hummed softly, but as it approached the shore, the hum grew louder. The cloud was dark, ominous, and sweeping low to the ground; all of which was intended for this desired response. It followed the people as they ran to their cars or for indoor shelter.
The woman watched the cloud as it came closer, then only turned slightly as it zipped past her, feeling like grains of sand blown against her skin.
She opened her eyes as one bumped into her, a man, who fell back.
"Hey watch…" he looked up and seeing she was a woman, stopped. She met his gapping stare with one that was cold, and empty. "Hey lady, uh, why don't you come with me, its getting crazy out here."
She narrowed her eyes, human males could be so pathetic. "Go," she said, sternly, the way her mother had taught her.
The man's eyes widened and he quickly sprinted past her as the swarm continued flying by. Behind her, she heard him and others scream as panic overtook them; a panic of their own imagination. The swarm was harmless. It was not designed to inflict pain or injury, just cause a panic. And in this paranoid culture, they were working splendidly.
She had crafted them from an old design passed down through her family. They were simple, small, and self replicating. She had only needed to bring a few, and release them into the air a few hours before she needed them. They were programmed to gather tiny, almost microscopic bits of minerals which could be found in an abundance on this world. As the swarm gathered the minerals, they began to replicate, creating exact duplicates of themselves and passing along their programming.
When a certain amount had been reached, they had been programmed to gathered out in the ocean. From there, they would assemble and begin flying inland. She had predicted that once spotted by the humans, panic would ensue. That panic would draw attention from local news media, which would be picked up by the national news, which would soon be broadcasted around the world in a matter of minutes.
It would no doubt catch the attention of her target, which she expected any minute now.
It wasn't long after before a soft hum appeared in the distance. Looking up, she squinted her eyes once more as the woman from her sketch appeared. The hum continued to pass by overhead as the woman shot downwards towards the Earth, sunlight glinting off her head and wrist bands.
With a sword in hand, the woman flew towards the swarm. By this time, the swarm had done its job and the beach was empty. So she clicked a button on her wrist, and the swarm began bank back towards her. As hoped, the woman from the sketch followed the swarm, followed them right to her.
The woman from the sketch waved her sword wildly through the swarm. An unnecessary gesture because just as they reached her the buzzing of their mechanical wings suddenly ceased, and the swarm dispersed, becoming nothing more than dust which scattered harmlessly in the wind.
The woman from the sky landed before her, clenching her teeth and holding her sword tightly. "What sort of plague was this?!" she demanded.
"Not a plague, just science," she replied. "Hello Wonder Woman. You won't believe this in a few moments, but I'm honored to meet you."
Diana of the Amazon's, known to the Wonder Woman, known to a select few as Diana Prince, cocked her head curiously, but narrowed her eyes fiercely. "And who are you?" she asked, warningly.
The woman shrugged. "An admirer actually."
Pressing a button hidden under her garments, she clenched her teeth as venom began to fill her veins. Another secret known only to her family, guarded carefully throughout the generations. Wonder Woman's eyes went wide as the woman began to grow. She watched Wonder Woman carefully, already feeling she had the upper hand as the venom gave her new found speed, agility, and most importantly for today, strength.
Diana was torn. This strange woman was clearly in pain, yet it was also clearly self inflicted. Then, she gasped as the woman's body began to grow, no expand, into a gaping hulk. Her garments tore, revealing hidden weapons beneath them which Diana could not recognize. She knew enough, however, to think it safe to assume they were highly advanced, and dangerous.
When the process seemed complete, the woman turned back to Wonder Woman, and leapt towards her.
Diana was barely able to bring her gauntlets up in time to deflect the strange woman's strike. She was knocked back, and her gauntlets rang from the sound of the sword Diana hadn't even seen the woman draw. She cursed as she crashed into a tree, the taste of blood falling on her tongue. Her own blood. Leaping to her feet, Diana quickly searched for the enlarged woman.
She had only looked to her left when she took another blow from behind, sending her sprawling into the sands.
"So far I am disappointed," the woman shouted as she began another charge. "Perhaps you are not worthy of the stories they tell about you."
"Stories you say," Diana said, leaping to her feet. She quickly set her feet and caught the woman's next strike with her sword. The sound of their steel meeting rang out across the empty beaches. "Only a fool thinks of stories during battle. And only an arrogant fool cares what those stories say of them."
Diana pressed hard with an exertion of strength, and the woman was tossed back. Without hesitation, Diana leapt, swinging the flat of her blade to strike the woman's head. But the woman landed gracefully and quickly rolled away from Diana's strike. Sand sprayed everywhere from Diana's sword before she was met with another kick from behind.
Diana was flung forward, but rolled and caught herself just in time to meet the woman's next blow. Diana's sword caught the woman's mere inches from her face. As the blades pressed against each other, the sun glinted off the woman's, and Diana gasped; the woman's sword was identical to her own.
"Heretic!" Diana shouted, pushing the woman back. "Where did you get this blade?!"
The woman pushed back, bringing her blade closer to Diana's eyes once more. "Can't you tell?" she said through clenched teeth.
Unleashing a furious Amazonian battle cry, Diana brought her knee up into the woman's gut. She lost her balance for a moment, but the blow sent the woman sprawling into a tree.
"Do not mock me!" Diana shouted, holding the blade in a battle position.
The woman quickly leapt to her feet, and the two exchange a fierce glare. "I never mock," the woman growled.
They leapt towards each other in the same instant, their blades meeting each other's head on. "…What…"
At the side.
"…Sort…"
Down below.
"…Of creature…"
Overhead.
"…Are you?" Diana said between blows.
Diana moved to kick the woman in the gut, but her leg was caught underneath by the woman's arm. Holding her firmly, the woman rolled on her back, tossing Diana over her head.
The woman snapped to her feet and whirled to face her. "Me?" she said. "I'm only human."
Diana had landed hard, and her wind had left her. She held herself strong, but struggled to catch her breath. "What have you… done to yourself… then?" Diana asked. "What…abomination…have you unleashed…within yourself?"
The woman shook her head dejectedly. "I had to give myself a chance," she said. "How else does one defeat the great Wonder Woman."
The woman brought her sword up again, and charged. Still struggling to find her wind, Diana charged as well. But she feigned high, hoping to give herself another moment to recover. To her surprise, the woman feigned low, and they passed over each other harmlessly. They quickly turned and faced each other again, prepared to charge again.
"Now I am not disappointed, Princess." the woman said. "I say this with respect, you are all the stories say you are. I wish there were women such as yourself where I come from."
"You should have remained there instead of bringing your violence and bloodshed here," Diana replied.
Their blades met again, thrusting and parrying each other's blows.
"Violence is life where I come from," the woman said. "The same is true for you, whether you wish to acknowledge it or not. Your people are warriors are they not? Are warriors not bred for violence?"
"We train to fight in our defense," Diana replied as their blades crashed off each others. "But we never use it for aggression or conquest."
"You speak with the idealism of a foolish youth," the woman retorted before unleashing a harsh downward blow. "You are a warrior, you were bred and trained to fight in war. Do not deny yourself, or apologize. Embrace it, show the world what you are capable of, truly capable of."
Their blades met again overhead. They came to a stand still, each pressing hard against the other. Diana still felt weak from loosing her wind, and she wasn't sure how long she could hold the woman off. Fear began to sink into her; she was loosing.
The woman glared into Diana's eyes, a glare without fear, without hesitation, and she continued, "If you don't, then nobody will hesitate to cut you down."
The woman pressed herself harder, and Diana realized she had been holding back. Now, the woman was using her full strength. As the blade came closer, Diana had no choice but to retreat from the blow. She withdrew her blade, causing the woman's to crash into the Earth, and Diana rolled away.
"These people have done nothing to you," Diana spat as she regained her footing. "The way of the warrior does not beget murder."
"I don't have the luxury of seeing the world in black and white," the woman responded. "And where I'm from, life is paid for with life. You must take one, to save one. Would that still make me a murderer?" the woman cried as she charged again.
"You do not belong here," Diana said as she feigned an over head attack. "Here, all life is precious, and we fight to protect it."
Their blades met in the middle, then below, then above again. Diana watched her opponent closely, expecting her to laugh or sneer at the idea of life being precious; it was what most cold hearted killers did since they did not value life. However, the woman did nothing of the sort. Instead she only met Diana's gaze with determination, and sincerity.
"You are right," she said, as their blades crossed again. "I don't belong here. And in case you were wondering, the swarm had caused no harm to anyone or anything. It was never my intent."
Diana's eyes widened as she freighted another blow. "Then what was your intent!" she shouted.
She pushed against the woman's blade, allowing herself to be drawn in dangerously close. However, she realized this might be her only chance. This woman was highly trained, and very confident. She seemed to know Diana's fighting style almost as well as she did. And now, thanks to whatever she had injected into herself, she was stronger as well.
Diana's only chance was to use her strength and aggressiveness against her. In close, she prepared herself. It was a move she had practiced often, designed to catch her opponents off guard. She would push aggressively close to them, making her opponent think she was putting all her strength into her blade. It would force them to dig in, and push back. When they did, Diana would fade, and the force of her opponents blow would make them stumble forward. From there, Diana would thrust her knee into the woman's face, then sweep her off her feet before pinning her to the ground with her sword pressed against her throat.
"My intent," the woman replied as Diana raised her blade and struck. "Was only to meet you!"
Instead of lifting her blade to meet Diana's, she released her own. She released it in the same fashion Diana would have. Caught off-guard, as she had intended for the woman, Diana stumbled as her momentum carried her forward. In the next instant, the woman's knee met Diana's face. The blow was strong, and darkness splashed across Diana's vision just as she felt her feet swept out from under her. She landed on her back a moment later. The woman leapt upon her, pinning her arms and legs to the ground, and pressing the point of her sword against Diana's neck.
Diana became still, but began cursing in her mind. She had just been defeated by her own move. Not just by her own move, but by an opponent who clearly knew everything about her. This woman had studied Diana, thoroughly. Not merely toying with her, for she was clearly nothing more than human who had prepared herself for this particular battle. No, the truth of the matter was simple; Diana had never stood a chance.
This woman hadn't just looked for weaknesses in Diana's fighting style, but had created them. She had matched Diana's speed and strength with whatever she had released into her body, and she had fought her in the same style Diana fought, using a blade that was…
Diana gasped as she felt a small bit of magic leap from the blade. It seeped into her flesh as the woman pressed the blade harder against her throat.
"Where…" Diana said, but could not bring herself to finish. "It cannot be possible!"
The woman's eyes shifted to the blade, then back to Diana. "It is Wonder Woman. Think about it. How could anyone hope to defeat you without a blade blessed by the god's."
"But…how?"
"I don't have time to explain," the woman replied curtly. "I don't have much time for anything, and for my next opponent I'll need both blades."
Diana clenched her teeth, and tried to struggle, but the woman pressed the blade harder into her neck. A line of blood appeared at the point.
Diana became still, and decided she would face her fate bravely. "If you truly respect me at all," she said defiantly. "You'll at least give me a warriors death."
The woman's eyes softened, "Who said anything about killing you?"
Diana's eyes went wide as the woman yanked the blade away from her neck, then brought the flat end across Diana's head. She didn't even have time to shout before the world went dark.
The Justice League Watchtower
As soon as we re-materialize in the Watchtower, I can tell something's wrong.
My first clue is Cyborg, who suddenly becomes more alert as his circuits re-attune themselves to this location and his constant stream of data picks up its pace. His eyes narrow, and I can tell he's reading something that troubles him.
My second clue is Batman. He notices Vic as well, and immediately presses a finger to his cowl. Without a word, we make our way through the empty halls to the control room. I try to focus my super hearing on whatever device Bruce has in his cowl; but all I can hear is muffled noises that sound like news transmissions. His breathing doesn't change, and just like in the artic, I can't hear his heart.
However, I can hear Cyborg's circuits begin to crank and spin faster. Whatever he's picking up, he's processing it fast.
I begin to hear Arthur as we get closer to the control room. His voice is raised, and he's speaking quickly and furiously. His sentences are short, harsh, and too the point; he's obviously angry. I focus my hearing on the control room and hear another voice along with his. Its muffled and artificial, meaning he's probably talking with someone on the viewing screen.
We enter the control room, and find Arthur. Just as I thought, he's standing in front of the large viewing screen, his Trident gripped tightly in one hand, and his other pointing a finger at a man on the viewing screen. Vic and I exchange an un-amused look, while Batman stares at the man solemnly. The man talking to Arthur is dressed in a fancy suit, with a slicked back hair cut, and perhaps the most smug smile I've ever seen planted firmly and confidently on his face.
"The Justice League does not take orders, got it!"
"And this is not an order, Arthur…"
"Aquaman," Arthur says sternly.
"…Aquaman. This is merely a…"
"What's going on here," I say, stepping beside Arthur in front of the viewing screen. Vic puts himself on the other side of me, and the three of us face the screen together. Bruce, however, stays off to the side, out of view of the screen, and sits himself at another computer.
"Ah, Superman," the man says. "It is a pleasure to meet the famous Man of Steel. Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Anthony…"
"Apparently he's the new liaison to the Justice League," Arthur says. "And he thinks that means he can give us orders."
I narrow my eyes and cross my arms over the "S" on my chest. "The Justice League no longer requires, or wishes, for a liaison. We have always, and will always, be an independent team operating without any official endorsement or sanction of any government in the…"
"Yes, yes, I understand that," Cartwright says, interrupting me. It's a bold thing to do, and telling. Only those who've stood against me have ever interrupted me. "And unfortunately it seems you are misunderstanding me. You see, I'm not giving you orders. I wouldn't presume to give you orders. It's the last thing I want to do.
"What I am doing, however, is making a simple request," he continued. "I'm simply saying that it is the United States Government's official request that you withhold yourselves from operating on American soil."
I hear Arthur's heart begin to pound with anger. Vic is listening, but I can tell his attention is divided. Meanwhile, Bruce is still in the corner, out of sight, typing furiously.
"The Justice League will respond wherever there is a global catastrophic threat," Arthur said. "It's what we do, it's what we've always done since Darkseid first attacked Earth…"
"Many years ago," Cartwright said. "Since then we have learned much about Meta-humans and the threats they pose to America. And just as you have stated you wish to be independent of any government, our government wants to be independent of you. In other words, if there is a threat on American soil that you believe requires your -ah- unique abilities, do not attempt to interfere."
I should have seen this coming. We all should have. We've always been a lightening rod for debate and controversy. I'm a journalist, I've seen first hand the differing opinions and arguments had over us. This is the age not of information, but disinformation, where everyone has a microphone, and anyone can say anything they like; the truth is always sorted out later.
"Odd," I say, slowly. "We've always been welcomed in America." In the corner of my eye, I see that Bruce has stopped typing. He's turned away from his computer screen to give me a stern look. I give him a quick glance, knowing what he's thinking. He doesn't want me to say that we, with the exception of Diana and Arthur, are American. He's right, of course, and so I don't. "I wasn't aware there was a change in your government's official recognition of the Justice League."
"Technically there isn't," Cartwright says. "However," he shrugs. "There are those of us who believe we rely too much on you, and that is dangerous. After all, none of you can live forever, and we barely even know who each of you are. We are starting to see that we have to get back to learning to stand on our own two feet. I'm sure each of you can understand that, right?"
Arthur slams his fist on the control panel. "This is outrageous," he says. "You're not even a member of A.R.G.U.S. Where's Colonel Trevor?"
Cartwright's smile fades, and he nods in fake sympathy. "You're right, Aquaman. I'm not a member of A.R.G.U.S. But that's because A.R.G.U.S. is, as of now, officially out of commission."
"What!" the three of us say at once. Batman stays silent, but he's moved from the computer to stand beside the viewing screen. From this angle, Cartwright can't see him.
"Yes, a bit of an unfortunate accident," Cartwright continued. "We're still gathering details, but what's important to understand right now is that A.R.G.U.S. no longer has the ability to operate at sufficient capacity, so the interactions between the United State's Government and the Meta-human community, including the Justice League, have been handed over to Homeland Security."
Arthur steps forward, seething with anger. "Where is Colonel Trevor, or Amanda Waller…"
"Colonel Trevor is unfortunately a casualty in the attack on A.R.G.U.S. and Amanda Waller currently has her hands full with other matters. (Again, see Justice League of America). So in the mean time, you deal with me. I'm your new liaison to the United States Government. I represent our interests, and your life line to the President. If we require your assistance we will contact you, but under no circumstances are you to …"
Bruce casually flips a switch by the viewing screen, and it goes dark.
"Can you believe that guy," Vic says. "I'm gonna get a hold of dad. He still carries some weight with the Government, he'll set this right."
I'm about to agree and thank him, but Bruce speaks first. "Later Cyborg," he says. "Right now we have much, much, more pressing matters."
He turns on the viewing screen again. The screen splits into three news reports. One is covering the attack on A.R.G.U.S. we just heard about from this Cartwright guy. The other is from Central City, Barry's home. It's covering what they're calling a Terrorist attack which included an assassination attempt on the Mayor's life. Then I turn to the third, and my heart stops.
It's a newscast from Florida. Its covering two women, obviously at the end of what appears to be a fierce fight. One of the women is strange, larger than the average woman, and holding down the other with a sword pointed at her throat. I don't recognize her, but the other I do. The other is Diana.
Washington DC
Steve Trevor groaned loudly as he rolled over. Every muscle in his body protested loudly, and he was stiff, sore, making every movement, including breathing, hurt. He opened his eyes only to be met with blinding light, causing him to wince. Then he remembered.
Gasping, his eyes snapped open wide as he sat up. The pain was excruciating, but he pushed it out of his mind. He had to find a phone, he had too…
"Colonel Steve Trevor!"
Trevor stopped, and felt his jaw tense. His name had been called out joyfully, laced with a thick layer of smugness.
"Cartwright," Trevor said tensely.
"Good too see you awake," he said.
It was then Trevor realized he was in a hospital. His eyes danced around and saw the familiar white sheets, sterile bright lights, an uncomfortable couch placed beneath a window, and a table a chairs near the door.
Turning, he was about to ask how he got here, but stopped when he saw Cartwright was not here alone. Amanda Waller was seated with him.
"Hello Steve," she said, curtly. Her arms were crossed and her face bore an expression that said she wasn't happy.
"Director Waller, I got to get out of here. The Justice League…"
"Is no longer your concern," Cartwright said.
"What!?" Trevor said. "Of course it is…"
"I actually just had a conversation with the Justice League," Cartwright continued. "Not the most pleasant people, but they should no longer be operating on U.S. soil anymore, which makes them no longer a concern of our Government."
Trevor's muscles clenched with tension, causing jolts of pain to race through his body. "But A.R.G.U.S…"
"Has been suspended," Cartwright said, a half smile on his face.
"What!" Trevor said. "How is that possible?"
Instead of answering, Cartwright turned to Waller. Her face continued to look like a brick wall, but Trevor could see her sigh.
"It's true Steve," she said. "The attack left over thirty people dead, the security system destroyed, and all the data and research on the Meta-Human community wiped out."
Trevor's eyes went wide. "No, wait. Before the attack I told them to start uploading the data to our online secure backup…"
"Which they failed to complete before it was destroyed," Cartwright said, far to casually for Trevor to stand.
"No, they had too…"
"They didn't," Waller said. "Everything A.R.G.U.S. had gathered and achieved over the last six years has been wiped out. And with our Government considering a new stance on the Justice League…"
"And of course the formation of our own Justice League," Cartwright cut in. (See Justice League of America).
"…It has been decided," Waller continued, taking a moment to give Cartwright a sharp glare, "… that for the meantime, A.R.G.U.S. will be inactive."
Waller was good at concealing her true beliefs on most matters related to her job. However, Trevor knew Waller well enough to know she liked this about as much as he did. Somehow, Anthony Cartwright had learned the true intentions of The Justice League of America. To the public, the JLA were supposed to operate as their own meta-human team, with Trevor training and leading them. However, its true intentions were to be the United States first line of defense in case the Justice League ever began acting against America.
This was suppose to be a secret. A secret people like Anthony Cartwright weren't suppose to know. Yet somehow he did know, he was revealing that he knew, and that made Waller angry.
"Like I said, I just finished a conversation with the Justice League a little bit ago," Cartwright continued. "They didn't seem to take the news too well."
"You told them about the JLA!" Trevor shouted.
Cartwright held his hands up in mock defense. "No, of course not. That would defeat the purpose. I told them the United States no longer wishes them to operate on American soil. We'd like to clean up our own messes for a while. A little neater if I might add."
Trevor rubbed his eyes and clenched his teeth. "Amanda, you can't think…"
"I don't think, Steve, and neither do you," she said, coldly. "We have our orders, and are expected to follow them. Right now, you obviously need rest after the attack."
Trevor's eyes went wide. The attack! So much was making him angry right now he'd almost forgot.
"I can't rest, I have to get back to A.R.G.U.S…"
"We told you, A.R.G.U.S. is now non-existent," Cartwright said.
"What we need from you right now is to tell us what you know about who attacked A.R.G.U.S." Waller said. "We don't have any security footage, it was all destroyed or erased, and we haven't found an eye witness yet amongst those who survived. You're the last to awake…"
"We barely managed to find you under all that rubble," Cartwright said. "But we did, barely alive, and apparently lucky to be able to walk again, though not right away. And to think, everyone else in that room died but you. I hope that doesn't keep you up at night."
"So… is there anything you can tell us about who attacked A.R.G.U.S?" Waller asked, in a restrained voice.
Trevor tried to think, but his head was spinning. His memories were a bit scattered and fuzzy, but he did remember something. The bald man.
"I don't know who it was," Trevor said.
"Nothing at all?" Cartwright asked.
"He was a bald man, not too large," Trevor continued, ignoring Cartwright. "Spoke very politely …"
"Oh that's certainly a lot to go on," Cartwright said.
"Damn it, just listen Cartwright," Trevor said. A sharp pain seared across his temples as his pulse began to quicken. "This is important. He, and two other people came through some kind of portal in New York City last night. They all went in different directions. One west and one south, and this bald guy came here."
He stopped, expecting another jibe from Cartwright. However, Cartwright remained silent, and instead exchanged a curious look with Waller.
"Three you said?" Waller asked a moment later.
"Yes, three," Trevor replied.
Cartwright's eyes narrowed. "How did you find out about this?"
Trevor opened his mouth, but stopped himself. He didn't want to tell them about Mickelson and Day. Not only could it mean more possible trouble for him, but he didn't want any other agency sweeping them away from him.
"It doesn't matter," Waller said quickly, reading Trevor the way he had read her. "What does matter is this. There have been three attacks today across the United States by unidentified and possibly undocumented Meta-Human's," she continued. "With A.R.G.U.S' databanks destroyed, we are flying blind against them. The public is aware of two attacks at large, but not the third. We need to keep it that way."
"But they came through a…"
"Yes, a portal, I heard you," Waller said. "I'll have to look into that myself. But as of right now, Steve, you are officially relieved of your duties at A.R.G.U.S and your new orders are to remain here to rest and recover."
"No, screw your orders, I have to get out there," Trevor said. He gripping his hospital bed and tried to stand, only to have pain sear through his body once more. His legs were the worst. It was nearly impossible for him to move them in even the slightest. He collapsed back on the bed a moment later, gasping. His legs were difficult to move, but he could feel pain, which meant he wasn't paralyzed.
"Stay here and recover Steve," Waller said firmly before turning to leave. As she reached the door she said, "I will need you back in the field with the JLA as soon as possible." She left, with Cartwright right behind her.
However, he stopped. On the table by the door laid the remote control to the TV. Casually he picked it up.
"Yes, we will need you. So get well soon Colonel Steve Trevor," he said, smugly again. "Perhaps this will help - encourage you."
He pressed a button and the screen in front of Trevor's bed blinked to life. The TV focused, showing a news channel, covering a story in what seemed to be out of Florida. Trevor's eyes went wide as he saw two women. They looked to be fighting, or at least had been. One had the other pinned to the ground.
The camera zoomed in on the two women, and Trevor's inside's clenched. The woman on top he recognized from the footage of the portal. And the other was Diana.