Edited:


Chapter One: Escape from D.C

(Strike POV)

His head hurt, especially since the room was so brightly lit.

Blinking a few times while sitting up, he started to take note of his surroundings.

'Hospital smell's a dead give-away,' panicking, his hands flew up to his mask. His fingers met with lots of bandages. Moving his hand downwards, he sighed with relief as he felt the smooth fabric of his uniform. It was made of Kevlar and a whole bunch of other fabrics he didn't even know the name of. Diamond was in it as well; a few years ago he helped Batman find stop a shipment of a rare type of Diamond, later dubbed Omni-Diamond and Wall-mans Diamond, with proprieties that made him, Batman, and every other science-geek who studied it be convinced that it wasn't anything from this planet. It had the ability to 'enhance' the properties of any materials it came in contact with. A few months later, every Bat had new, improved uniforms, and added utilities only meant to be used in an emergency.

Another dead give-away was the large Justice League Logo on the floor.

Events of the previous days slowly started to come back to him. He remembered feeling nauseous and restless, so much so that he decided to run. He felt constricted and pressured, like the weight of the whole world was weighing down on him.

So he ran.

The farthest he got was Virginia, where he randomly tag-teamed with The Outlaws to fight off a small horde of invading aliens who had no set plan but to attack everything in sight and hope for the best. The fight was long, and releasing the people that the aliens held hostage for some reason took a lot longer than planned. He remembered getting knocked out but a large, buff, possibly female alien who looked angrier than a woman who caught her husband cheating on her. How he got here though, he had no idea.

The door opened, and he snapped his head towards the newcomer. It was a tall blonde, in her early thirties, wearing a black Leonard and gray tights. She placed both her hands on her waist, and gave him a hard look.

"Looks like you've healed," Black Canary stated coolly.

"Wasn't even hurt in the first place, sweetheart" he grinned widely at her.

Ignoring his jab, she replied coolly "Good; then you can come here."

He stood up, stretching, and yawned widely "What if I fall over and go into a coma?"

"Then I'll give them your hair samples so that they could figure out who you are," she replied evenly.

'What?' He resisted the urge to touch his hair, figuring it was just a bluff. He walked over without a complaint. As soon as he neared her, he was turned around and handcuffed, though not before she pressed lightly against his palm. A tiny buzz rang in his ears. 'Aha! Bats got people inside everything doesn't he?' he thought as he recognized a comm link being set up to whoever was in charge.

'Strike,' Nightwing's voice said quietly. 'Say something stupid if you can hear me.'

"You know, it's a pity you're too old for me," Strike flirted; it counted as stupid as he already had a girlfriend and Black Canary was way too old for him, "I would have totally gone out with someone as beautiful as you."

"Lucky me I guess," Black Canary retort smoothly. She roughly pushed him out the door, and they started to walk down the long hallway.

"Aw, come on now, don't be like that." All he received was a slap to the back of his head.

'Ha! Schooled,' Nightwing giggled. 'Anyway, Black Canary's an ally, as you probably figured out. Red Hood's been taken as well.'

They came out into a large lounge, which had bookcases, a large computer, and several couches in the middle. There was a small platform encircling the area, and several more bookcases, chairs, and tables could be seen. A small group of superheroes, (none of the Supers though) were huddled in a far corner, acting every bit the teenagers they were. They, when they saw Strike and Black Canary, stopped altogether and stared. He counted five of them, and noticed that they were the ones who didn't have a mentor at all: Blue Beetle, Static, Astral, Mist, and Speed.

'His location is the interrogation room right next to yours. You need to be careful. The Supers are all here.'

"Shouldn't you kids get ready?" Black Canary barked, but he could detect a hint of warmth underneath it "You're public debut is in a few minutes."

'Geez, a public debut? What are they, royalty? Nightwing voiced Strike's thoughts exactly.

"That's pretty counterproductive," one of them, Astral, muttered. Strike smirked; looks like not all of Young Justice was as 'show-cased' as the League was.

'Anyway, you will be interrogated by another Leaguer. Superman is currently interrogating Red Hood. He will leave in a few minutes. When he does, Black Canary will take over Red Hood's interrogation. On my signal, and only on my signal, are you to knock out your Leaguer.'

"So this is the interrogation room huh?" Strike cut off Nightwing the moment he saw a large graffiti on the wall that said 'Interrogation bo-nation'. One of the mini-Leaguers must have put it up.

Black Canary said nothing, but Strike could feel her glare, either aimed at his right ear or the graffiti. She opened a door (he could hear Superman shouting at Red Hood next door and smirked) and shoved him inside. She took off his cuffs, and left without another word, slamming the door behind her.

"Well, someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed," he commented, rubbing his wrist. His head still hurt like hell. He reached for an aspirin in his belt, (wait, why didn't they take his belt off?) and swallowed it down with the water on the table, careful not to touch the glass to his lips. He sat down, and waited for his interrogator, strumming his fingers on the table.

It was only a few seconds, but it felt like minutes to him, when the door opened. He looked up to find, Aquaman? Really, out of the entire Justice League, he had to get the one who was practically powerless and was probably only on the League because of some alliance thing.

"I believe I'm at a disadvantage," the King of the seas stated "You know my name, but I don't know yours."

'Just as arrogant as a Leaguer would be,' Strike raised an eyebrow, unimpressed.

"Well I also believe that I know that you're a cocky son of a gun. Now you know that I'm a sassy bastard," Strike replied.

"What's your name," Aquaman asked in a hard voice.

"Strike," he answered, putting his feet up on the table.

"Not the one you call yourself, but the one your parents gave you."

"Like hell I'll tell you. It's called a secret identity for a reason."

"Secret identities are for superheroes and law enforcement undercover," Aquaman retorted "You are neither."

"Course not, because both of them are highly overrated," Strike shot back. "Honestly, in another few years, you guys will die out like a fashion fad."

"Then what do you call yourself; a vigilante?"

Honestly, Strike was surprised that he hadn't been sucker-punched or bitch-slapped yet. "I'm not a member of a club that enforces laws and thinks I'm so much mightier than everyone else. I'm a member of the 'hey-let's-save-people-since-it's-a-good-and-right-thing-to-do club."

"And what's this club called?" Strike had to give Aquaman points for not raising to the bait, or losing his temper yet.

"I just told you."

Nightwing's voice suddenly spoke up 'Now'.

This time, Strike was glad that he was the one who gave out the sucker-punch. Aquaman reeled backwards, stunned but not unconscious. Using his speed, Strike slammed into him and punched him several times.

The door burst open.

"Let's move!" Red Hood shouted. In a moment he was out the door, and the two were racing down the hallway. Red Hood twisted around and threw something. A moment later a small bomb went off.

"That was conspicuous!" Strike shouted over the roar of bomb.

"Never was told otherwise; free reign kid!" Red Hood replied.

"What about Black Canary?"

"She ran out to get the Leaguers. We only have a few moments."

"You know where the back door is?"

Red Hood laughed "That's part of the fun, kid!" He grinned as well.

They raced down through the hallway. At one point, they came across Hawkwoman and Hawkman looking rather cozy in the coffee room. "Sorry!" Strike shouted as he slammed the door shut and raced on with Red Hood following him.

It felt good, though, just running, with pure adrenaline coursing through his veins. He held back his laugh, until they burst through the doors.

"Stop right there!" Black Canary was there, looking pissed, but relatively unharmed. A few other Leaguers, meaning the two League Green Lanterns, Dr. Fate, and Captian Marvel, had surrounded them, pressing them against the back of the Hall of Justice. When Strike turned around, he saw the two Hawks burst through the door; crap.

"Got any great ideas?" Strike asked Red Hood as he backed up against the older Bat.

He heard the sound of two guns being loaded "Got your weapon?"

Strike pulled out his bo-staff, and twirled it. "Fight our way out, awesome."

'Stay right there, don't attack. Reinforcements are on their way.' Nightwing ordered.

"No fun Birdie," Red Hood muttered.

"Put down your weapons," Wonder Woman shouted "And you will not be harmed!"

Strike remained silent, watching, waiting. 'Where are they?' Red Hood said nothing either, but he was pretty sure that the older man had raised both of his guns.

The two Green Lanterns moved first, and encased the two in a large green bubble. "Try getting out of this one," the white one, (Hal Jordon) smirked.

"He has a point," Strike said, lowering his bo-staff.

"Wait and see, kid; the Bat's go a whole lot of tricks up his sleeve." Red Hood responded quietly, his body still posed for action.

"I've got orders for you to let them go," A new voice spoke up. In all his rude glory, Guy Gardner appeared, crossing his arms, with that really condescending smirk of his. But Strike was never happier to see him.

"Gardner," The venom in both of the Lantern's voices was strong enough to make him wince. The green shell that they were trapped in was removed, leaving them exposed to the Leaguers, and vice versa.

'Someone's really hated…'

"Pulled in a favor from the Guardians of the Universe," Gardner continued. As everyone's attention turned toward the new arrival, Strike strained his ears for any noise any indication that help was coming on the way. Ignoring the heated argument that broke out, he thought he could hear a faint whipping sound from a helicopter.

And bingo, he thought, slowly backing away from the group with Red Hood.

"If the word of the Guardians wasn't enough for you," Gardner's voice brought his attention back into the conversation "Fine, whatever. Take it up with them. I gave them my reasons, and they gave me permission. You don't let those two go, you're disagreeing with someone way above your payroll."

"And you're not telling us why they want us to let them go," John Stewart responded just as coldly.

"Because the Guardians believe that the Clan is what the world deserves."

"What the world needs and what it deserves are two different things," Captain Marvel now joined their conversation. The rest of the Leaguers circled them, though not before each of them was pulled back as if by an invisible string.

"That's our cue!" Red Hood put his guns away, and looked up towards the large helicopter that appeared out of nowhere. Strike blinked in confusion as to how that could happen, until he saw Mistress Magic hovering above. He could see her smile and wink at them; if anyone could pull of a spell that kept a helicopter silent, it was her.

Unfortunately, the conscious Leaguers sprang into actions. With Guy managed to hold off the two Green Lanterns, the two Hawks, who had quickly recovered, charged at the helicopter. Strike just grabbed one of the two ropes that dropped down from the copter, and was being pulled up. He grunted as Red Hood slammed into him, curtsey of Captain Marvel. A strong force block his path and he gave out a sharp cry as he was crushed between over four hundred pounds, roughly, and the green wall of Lantern stubbornness. It seemed to surprise Captain Marvel as well; Red Hood took this opportunity to slam his head into Captain Marvel's. The Leaguer slid to the bottom of the green bubble, unconscious.

He grinned as the rope pulled him up into the helicopter. "Need a hand?" he looked up to find his girlfriend, Archer Green, smirking at him, her hand held out towards him. His heart fluttered (as if always did when he saw her but no one needs to know that) as he smiled back at her, whose hair was tied up in a ponytail, save for a few stray bangs that managed to come loose.

"Never been happier to see you babe," Strike grinned as he took her hand and pulled himself up. Tigress, Archer Green's (or AG's) second oldest sister pulled up Red Hood. "I'm guessing Chesh's in the pit?"

"We got a new trick up our sleeve," Cheshire said in the over-comm, the helicopter doors automatically slamming shut "Hold tight; we're experimenting."

Before he could list all the reason why human experimentation with new technology was a bad idea, he felt a familiar tingling through his body. A flash of bright light later and he found himself looking at an empty helicopter pad, and the blue sky beyond it. He could tell that they were standing on some type of airfield…that was in the sky?

"So…we have our own helicarrier?" Strike asked, amazed. It looked empty of people, but had a few planes and helicopters that seemed to be strapped down. He had no doubt that someone was watching at all times. He wondered how they managed to breathe properly high up in this altitude- must be some form of shield around them. AG grabbed his hand, and held onto it tightly.

"Sort of; only found out yesterday," Tigress replied, her hand on her hip.

They were facing the large, three story building that popped out in the center, when the double doors opened, and a welcoming committee (in suits and uniforms) came out.

"Welcome to Air Force Infinite." AG told him.