Disclaimer: I don't own Justice League Unlimited.
Complicated Simplicity
Chapter One: Meeting Point
Linda sighed and looked down at her watch. They had been waiting for half an hour now, and still no-one had arrived to let them in. What was keeping them?
She looked over at Marla, who was obviously not as annoyed at the situation as she was. The camerawoman was idly fiddling with something on her camera, occasionally looking into the eyepiece to check on something or other.
Sat next to Marla was Hunter Zolomon, the Rogue profiler for the Central City PD's Department for Metahuman Hostility, or DMH for short. Although he hadn't been with the force long, he had quickly made a name for himself in the three person department, even helping the Flash find a super powered criminal or two.
The Flash, otherwise known to Linda as Wally West, her erstwhile boyfriend. She was still having difficulty adapting to the fact that the quiet and incredibly klutz-y Wally West was a superhero. Not to mention being one of the most boisterous and borderline obnoxious superheroes. He was once again at work today, though not at his usual post in the CPD's CSI lab. Wally once dismissed the superhero work as a hobby, but Linda saw it as much more than that, and probably always would. Besides, if that was a hobby, what would Wally call all the charity and community service stuff he does in and out of costume?
Hunter Zolomon muttered something obviously uncomplimentary under his breath and looked at his watch. He had better places to be, it seemed. Zolomon had agreed to come with Linda to Iron Heights – the Central City prison – once she had:
a) Told him why she was doing a story on Iron Heights in the first place
and
b) Told him she was Wally's girlfriend.
She had been given reports both anonymous and signed that some of the super powered Rogues were being mistreated in the prison, being denied even the most basic human rights.
The warden, Gregory Wolfe, had maintained that these conditions were necessary, but Linda found that the rumours of the daily beatings stretched that claim a little too far. And, after doing some digging on the good warden, she found that Wolfe, once a prosecutor in St Louis, had an intense hatred for all super powered criminals ever since a friend of his was murdered by a supervillain years ago.
"Somewhere to be?" Linda asked idly.
The profiler looked over at her in the same manner, his eyes almost half closed. "Home," he said with a wry smile.
"Long day, huh?"
He nodded wearily. "Someone in Coast City is on a killing spree, and apparently," he paused to yawn. "He's from Central City."
"Anyone I'd know about?"
A small smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth. "I'm sure we'll release a statement. You'll have to wait until then, Ms Park."
"Very well, Mr Zolomon." She paused for a moment. "And if I haven't said so already… thanks for agreeing to come along, and for doing that interview earlier."
He shrugged. "No problem. If it helps the people to see just how the warden treats these people, then it'll be worthwhile."
The door opened, and someone stepped through wearing the warden's customary uniform.
Except it wasn't warden Wolfe. It was someone who bore no resemblance to the warden in any way.
Zolomon got to his feet, pushing up on his cane. "Where's Wolfe?"
The man smiled. He had a rather thin face, and his equally thin black hair was pulled back behind him with a small ponytail protruding from the back.
"He's busy right now. He sent me to tell you you'll have to come back later."
"Is there a problem?" Zolomon asked, eyebrow cocked.
"Oh, no problem. He's just busy."
Linda scowled.
Oh, no you don't.
"Excuse me," she said, getting to her feet and walking over to the replacement warden. "But Wolfe has been dodging me for the past month, and I am not going to just back out now that he's gotten cold feet. If he sends me away now, then that's exactly what I'm going to report to the public. And you know what? It'll just make my case all the more believable. Why not let us in if you have nothing to hide?"
Hunter smirked and looked at the warden. Marla, having seen this kind of display every other day, was still cleaning her camera, acting as though nothing was wrong.
The warden seemed as though he might explode, but then just as quickly calmed down, a pleasant smile on his face.
"All right. But not for too long; we're still very busy here."
Linda nodded. "Thank you." She looked over at Marla and summoned her over with a wave of her hand.
"Oh, we're going in now?" Marla asked wryly, prompting Hunter to smile again, although this time he hid it a little better. While he wasn't afraid of a creepy looking warden, an angry Linda Park? He doubted even Superman would want such a thing.
"If you'll follow me," the warden said, leading them down the corridor and to a door with a misted window, the writing on the glass reading 'Warden Wolfe'.
Linda looked over at their tour guide. "So what's your position here?"
"The warden will explain everything," he said, opening the door for them. They all went in, and Linda gasped as she saw the unconscious form of warden Wolfe on the floor. Zolomon went over to him as fast as his cane would allow and knelt beside him, seeing the blood on the warden's dark skin as soon as he entered.
The 'warden' stood at the door let out a laugh that sounded like it belonged in a crappy B-movie. They all looked over at him, wondering just what was going on. Flames began to burst from his neck until his entire head was encompassed in them. His clothes glowed a warm yellow before disappearing altogether, revealing a dark red costume with a Dracula-sized collar and cape.
"So sorry," he said, although it was difficult to see if he had a mouth beneath all the flames. "But your interview will have to wait."
A burst of flames sprang from his head, and the last thing Linda saw was a bright yellow light before she was knocked into unconsciousness.
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There was a bright flash of yellow light in the background, and the Atom ducked his head. Static filled the screen for a moment, but slowly the image of the costumed scientist returned. He smiled apologetically at Mr Terrific.
"Sorry. This thing's quite unpredictable."
"But not dangerous."
"Well, not yet. To be honest, the only people who ever got it to work were two teenagers, and one of them did it by accident. Incidentally, any luck finding them yet?"
The Justice League co-ordinator's lips made a thin line. "They're both busy in Dakota. They said they'd contact me when they're done."
"Do they need any help?"
"I asked, but they're defensive about their territory."
"These solo heroes always are." Atom sighed. "Ah well. Send them up if you can, but there's no rush."
He nodded. "Right. Mr Terrific, out."
The channel terminated with the push of a button. He sat back in his chair and laced his fingers together in front of him, tapping his forefingers against one another thoughtfully. The machine in question had been invented by a brilliant – if misguided – Dakota based scientist who named himself Timecode. Charging exponential amounts of money, he offered clients the ability to travel back in time and correct mistakes from their past – or gain knowledge from the future. Local hero Static became aware of this, and, upon finding out his time travel device could theoretically work, trailed Timecode to Gotham, where Batman and Robin helped him defeat the scientist.
That was where Static was accidentally sent into the future while using his powers to keep the machine stable. His partner in super heroics, Gear, was able to bring him back from the future using his not inconsiderable affinity for understanding and building anything to do with science. Batman had transferred the device up to the Watchtower via a Javelin, but when the device nearly destroyed the ship in mid-flight (something to do with the engines) they had resolved from then on to move it by teleporter.
Not that that was any easier. The way the teleporter worked (naturally) conflicted with the way the time machine worked, and so a lot of preparations were being made to allow transit to the Metro Tower, which had much more advanced scientific equipment to allow study of the machine. The Atom, for one, couldn't wait to take it apart and examine it.
Unfortunately, both Static and Gear, the two with the most experience (which admittedly, wasn't much) were busy battling what they described as 'a big egg type thing with legs', so they were unavailable to help.
But there were other things to attract his attention.
Mr Terrific sighed and looked at the digital clock above his head. He looked down at his wristwatch as though it would yield different results, but it read the same time.
Once again, Green Arrow and the Flash were late for an assignment. It hadn't been the first time, and J'onn had assured him it wouldn't be the last. When working separately they already tended to err on the late side, so when they were together… one was lucky to have them show up at all.
He reached forward and pushed the comm button, opening a channel to Green Arrow and Flash's communicators.
"Flash, Green Arrow, come in."
No response, at least at first. Then, a crackling noise.
Then, finally:
"…and I say it is! Yeah?"
Mr Terrific rubbed his eyes wearily. "Where are you, Flash?"
"Kinda in the middle of something. Whoa!"
Now that made him worry. "What's the problem? If you need backup, I can-"
Green Arrow's voice interrupted him. "Negative, T. Everything's under control. Shouldn't be more than two minutes, tops."
"Two minutes? Ego much?"
"Oh come on. I could've mopped the floor with you in two seconds flat if I wanted to."
A sigh once again escaped Mr Terrific's lips, this one heavier than the last. Reaching forward, he performed a search of the Watchtower for the locations of Flash and Green Arrow. They were in the rec room.
More specifically, they were in the rec room standing at the Space Blaster 3 arcade booth that Flash, Static and Gear had insisted they buy. Of course, when the League refused, they turned to Green Arrow, who was more than delighted to help.
Mr Terrific hated eccentric billionaires.
He pushed the comm button again. "I need you up here. Now. Orion's been waiting for ten minutes."
The New God didn't acknowledge the mention of his name; he merely continued staring at the control panel with his arms crossed his front of him as he leant against the wall. Judging from the way his jaw was grinding from side to side, he was obviously thinking of different ways he could punish both the Flash and Green Arrow for this.
And Mr Terrific was quickly on his way to joining him.
"Tell him to wait for a few more seconds…" Green Arrow replied. He suddenly yelled in frustration, making Mr Terrific pull out his earpiece and causing Orion to cringe and grasp at his helmet where his ear would be underneath.
"Ha! Totally kicked your butt!"
"Only because you've wasted your entire life playing this thing. You need to get out and get a life, you know that?"
"Sour grapes, sour grapes," Flash sang in a 'nyah nyah' tune.
"Flash. Green Arrow."
"Uh… yeah?"
"Please get up here. NOW!"
"Okay, geez… What's his problem?"
Green Arrow grunted an 'I dunno' noise in response. "All he had to do was ask."
As soon as they got up to the command center, Mr Terrific decided, he would kill them. Or at least hurt them just enough so that they could barely accomplish their mission, and then he would kill them. He looked over his shoulder at the New God silently fuming there.
And Orion would help.
A few short minutes later, and Flash and Green Arrow were in the command center, having no idea just how close to death they in fact were.
"So what's the problem?" Flash asked, leaning against the control panel on his hands.
"I got a call. The Central City police have lost all communication with Iron Heights."
The speedster nodded, and Arrow looked over at him curiously. "Iron Heights?"
"It's the name of the prison."
Mr Terrific frowned. "It's also where some of the Flash's nastiest rogues reside."
Orion snorted derisively. "I've met his," he paused for a moment to put sarcastic emphasis on the next word, "enemies before. They're no real threat."
Flash tilted his head at the New God. "Seems to me you were having quite a bit of trouble with them the last time. Didn't I have to bail you out when they kicked your butt?" he asked, scratching his chin and looking up at the ceiling.
The only response was a low growl and a muttered curse. Flash cupped a hand around his ear. "I'm sorry, what was that?"
Mr Terrific put up a hand to stop them, since Green Arrow was obviously enjoying the argument far too much to intervene. If anything, he would have egged them on.
"Enough, you two. It's not just the likes of Captain Cold and Mirror Master. There's Weather Wizard, who killed more than his fair share of people when he was last free, not to mention Abra Kadabra, who turned two guards' intestines into boa constrictors and unleashed three giant yellow monsters that crushed twelve people."
Green Arrow winced, and Orion seemed unimpressed. Flash just kept his head down, having been witness to most of those events.
The Emerald Archer raised a hand. "Do we know what could have caused them to lose contact?"
He shook his head. "Nothing. And considering that the place is more crowded with Rogues than it's ever been, the police are obviously a little reluctant to go in without some super powered backup to level the playing field."
Flash pushed himself off the control panel and clapped his hands together. "Okay then. Let's get to it."
"Hold on a sec." Arrow turned to Mr Terrific. "What if the Rogues have gotten out? Are we going to be enough?"
He shrugged. "I don't know. Ask him; he's the expert," he replied, pointing to Flash.
"Uh… we might want some of the big guns on standby," the speedster said.
The Justice League co-ordinator paused for a moment, running a small inventory in his head. "A lot of them are out on missions, but they should be finishing up soon. I'll call them while you assess the situation and get back to you."
Flash gave him a quick salute before zipping out the door and appearing several floors below on the teleporter pad. Arrow winked at Mr Terrific before he followed suit.
"Much obliged, T."
Orion just grunted and slowly followed the Archer.
After watching them teleport away, Mr Terrific contacted Wonder Woman for a status report.
Some day, he'd like to on some missions again.
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Mr Terrific had teleported them down just outside the main gate entrance to Iron Heights, leading into the courtyard. Wally found it strange how it always seemed to be dark whenever he went to Iron Heights. He wondered what it looked like during the day. Still as unbearably creepy, he was sure.
"I thought the local law enforcement was supposed to be here," Orion said, arms crossed almost huffily.
"I don't think they would want to tip of whoever's behind this mess," Arrow replied, peeking through the metal bars of the giant gate to take a look at the courtyard. He turned to Flash, who as on his right looking at the guard towers to check for activity. "Anything?"
The speedster shook his head. "What's weird is that there's no sign of a fight going down."
After a pause, Arrow took his bow from off his shoulder and pulled out an arrow with a rope attached. "Well… we don't want to keep our mystery man waiting, do we?"
The only reply was a smirk before Flash ran up and over the wall in the blink of an eye. The Emerald Archer took aim and fired his arrow at the top of the wall, hooked his bow back onto his shoulder, and climbed up. Orion just jumped clean over the wall in one leap, landing with a loud thud on the other side.
Flash turned to him irritably, putting a finger to his lips. "Shhh! What're trying to do, let the whole city know we're here?"
The New God turned up his nose slightly. "I don't see how I could have done it any-"
Arrow landed with nary a whisper next to him.
Orion grumbled something uncomplimentary about light-footed humans before getting up and moving forward.
After exchanging knowing smiles, Flash and Green Arrow followed him, keeping to the shadows as they approached the building.
"You come here a lot?" Arrow asked, keeping his eyes on the various windows and cell grates, checking for any sign of activity. Nothing.
Flash smiled. "Oh yeah, one of my favourite vacationing spots. Friendly locals, wonderful cuisine, and the décor has to be seen to be believed."
"That good, huh?"
A troubled look came across the superhero's face. "It has been ever since this new warden took over. Guy's a fruit loop."
"What makes you say that?"
"He treats supervillains like something less than human. Keeps 'em all in this nasty little basement area called the Pipeline. It's like a sewer down there, and they don't get much food or water either. Shot on sight if they're caught escaping, kept in costume so the guards know when they are escaping. Not to mention the daily beatings…" He shook his head. "No-one deserves that kind of treatment."
Green Arrow didn't reply. Orion pointed to a back entrance, and both of his companions nodded, following him to the metal door. After looking it over once, Orion punched the door square in the center and grabbed the edges, pulling it out of its' frame. He seemed ready to toss it away, but then gently placed it on the ground next to him. After shooting them a 'happy now?' look, Orion went inside, seemingly indifferent as to whether they followed him or not.
The lights were off. Arrow fumbled about for a light switch but came up empty. He pulled out an arrow and twisted the top, causing it to burst to life with a fizzling noise.
Flash smiled wryly. "A flare arrow?"
"Endorsed by Black Canary as 'the first functional thing I've ever done'."
There was no noise in the dank corridor except for the flare and the constant dripping of a pipe overhead.
"Do you know where we're going?"
The speedster shrugged. "I think we're in a maintenance access… place. Hey, Big O?"
Orion didn't respond.
"Big O?"
Flash sighed.
"Orion?"
He turned. "What?"
Green Arrow smiled as Flash sighed and shook his head. "You see any doors up ahead?" The New God shook his head, and Flash thought for a moment. He turned to Arrow. "Gimme another flare, would ya?"
Not really thinking about it, the archer reached back and pulled out another one, twisting it on.
Flash nodded, taking the green luminescent flare. "Okay. Now just wait here. I'll be right back." And with that, he shot off down the corridor, the light of the flare shrinking into the distance. Then, just as suddenly, it began to grow, and the Flash returned. He pointed down the corridor. "There's a door just a little but further down."
The three set off.
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Volcana absentmindedly twirled a pen between her fingers as she leant back in the chair, her legs crossed and resting on the control panel in front of her. This was boring. She wasn't built for waiting. She was a 'get out there' kinda gal. Red eyes idly scanned the various monitors looking in on the supervillains kept here. She thought there would at least be one who was cute out of the bunch of them. Nothing. They all seemed like middle aged, balding men.
It was almost a joke, really. The Flash, one of the youngest and liveliest superheroes had crotchety old guys as his enemies.
The door behind her opened, and her erstwhile partner in crime walked through.
She rubbed her eyes wearily. "You know, when you asked me to help you, you didn't say it'd be so boring. What's taking so long?"
Dreamslayer stood beside her, his arms behind his back as he looked over the surveillance monitors.
"They… are more reluctant than I thought."
"Reluctant?" She gasped sarcastically. "You mean you couldn't convince them with your 'I am the Lord of the Dimension of Terrors!' thing?"
"Well… I am! And it worked with you, didn't it?"
"No, I was being chased by the Justice League, and you do have this handy teleporting trick."
"… shut up, Volcana. You're here as muscle, nothing more."
"I think I've got enough muscle for the both of us…" she muttered.
"Shut up! I don't need muscle! I am the Lord of the Dimension-"
"- of Terrors, yes, I get it." She groaned exasperatedly. "Can we go now?"
"No! I will bend them to my will, and they will follow me into battle!"
Volcana closed her eyes and shook her head. "Look, if you want to get these guys to join you, you're going to have to learn some people skills."
His churning flame of a head shrank slightly, and he turned to look at her. "People… skills?"
"Yeah. Offer to give them something they want? Reward them for their troubles… that kind of thing? Any of this ringing a bell?"
"What more reward could they need than to serve me, Dreamslayer, the Lord of the Dimension of Terrors?"
"…you didn't actually say that to them, did you?"
"I… of course not. Because that would have been… foolish…" he said, avoiding her gaze.
"Do these people even know who you are?"
"Of course they do. How could they not know Dreamslayer, the Lord of-"
Volcana put up her hands. "Neagh! Don't want to hear it again!" She looked over the monitors. "Okay, let's have a look at the reporter woman and the profiler. If you're as famous as you think you are, and then they would know who you were, right?"
"I don't know. Would they?"
"…yes."
"Oh. Very well."
After a quick shake of the head, Volcana turned on the audio for the cell they were being kept in. The camerawoman was cleaning her camera almost out of habit in the corner. The warden was still out cold, although he had been put on the cell bed. The reporter (who Volcana recognised as Linda Park) and the profiler were sat against the wall next to each other.
"Are you expected back at the police station?" she asked hopefully.
The profiler shook his head. "I was going home right after this. They won't know anything's wrong until tomorrow morning."
She sighed, and looked around the room. "Who was that guy, anyway?"
He shrugged. "He seems vaguely familiar, but I can't quite remember. Dree… something. It definitely begins with a 'Dree' sound."
Vindicated, Volcana switched off the audio. "There. If the police profiler doesn't know who you are, then how are those guys supposed to?"
"He said I was vaguely familiar."
"Stop grasping at straws. They don't know you."
"And he knew the beginning of my name…"
"Stop it!"
"Maybe with some clues-"
"Straw grasping! Stop! Villains. Recruit. Remember?"
He paused, and then waved a dismissive hand. "It doesn't matter if they don't know who I am. They know what I am. They can tell from the way I carry myself. From the way I behave. I am Dreamslayer, the Lord of-"
"Please, not again," she quickly said, the three words almost coming out as one.
"The point is, they should want to serve me, regardless of whether they know my name or not."
She sighed and buried her head in her hands. After a few moments silence, she came back up.
"Okay. These guys don't want to serve you. They want money. Women. Power. But mostly the money."
"Women, eh?"
"Yeah, I-" her eyes widened. "Oh, no, no, not me. They don't want me."
"And why not? Are you unattractive by their standards?"
She grit her teeth. "No. But there's a guy in there who loves fire. And by extension, he thinks he loves me. I had to work for months with that guy in the Secret Society, and I'm not doing it again."
Dreamslayer sighed overdramatically and looked over the monitors. "Oh, well. I suppose we'll just have to stay here until I convince them to join me." He looked at her, the smirk hidden behind his flaming head evident from his voice. "It could take days."
Volcana glared at the flaming head. "I hate you."
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(A/N: While it may seem a little silly now, the story will get more serious as we go.
Anyway, reviews welcome!)