Chapter 14: Time to Pay, Aquaman

Like a torpedo, AC powered through the warm waters of the Gulf, his muscular frame propelling him forwards at over two hundred miles an hour. Swimming just a few feet below the surface, above him he could make out the sun dipping towards the horizon in the west, a reminder that sunset was just an hour or so away. Relax, bro, he said to himself. You got plenty of time – there's two hours before the game starts. He'd arranged to meet up with Roy to watch the Star City Rockets play the Gotham Knights – it promised to be a great game, and he didn't want to miss it. But the text from Corey had made him curious. An abandoned rig off the coast of Mexico, being used by drug traffickers with a side-line in the illegal whaling – it was too good an opportunity to miss, particularly after he'd spent a day cooped up in the Queen mansion with only Oliver's weights and the TV for company. He'd check out the rig, take down the bad guys, and be back before the first pitch with a great story to tell – what could be easier than that?

At least that was the plan…..

He'd known Corey Howe for three years. They'd met when AC had got involved in a campaign against the dumping of toxic waste off the coast of California. Corey had been part of a group of environmental activists trying to shine a spotlight on what was happening, but things had got heavy; the chemical company had called in some hired muscle, and Corey and some of his friends had been at the wrong end of a serious beating. AC had stepped in, and soon afterwards Corey's attackers were under arrest, along with the CEO of the company. The two had been firm friends ever since. They had a lot in common, and not just their shared commitment to safeguarding the world's oceans. Both loved to surf, and the two of them had spent many a vacation together on the beaches of the West Coast, chasing the best waves. They also shared a sense of humour, as well as a friendly rivalry when it came to flirting with the girls who following the surf scene; standing over six foot tall and with the bleached hair and bronzed skin of a typical surfer, Corey was never short of admirers when he hit the bars in the evening. Charming, good looking and funny, few who met Corey the surfer would have guessed that he was also a passionate environmentalist, someone who'd put his life on the line countless times to protect the oceans that he loved. If Corey was saying something bad was happening at this rig, it must be true; not for a second did AC suspect that the message he'd received was bogus, that he was walking into a trap set by a man who'd hunted him half way round the world….

AC came to a stop just a few feet from the base of the rig. His head breaking the surface of the water, he stared up at the enormous structure which towered above him. Everything seemed quiet; there were no boats anchored nearby, and the rig appeared deserted, save for the gulls which circled loudly overhead. Confident that his arrival had gone unnoticed, he began to climb the ladder that gave access to the platform above. Moving quickly and silently, it took him just a few seconds to reach the first level. Alert for any sign of danger, he paused. Still there was nothing – just the shrill call of the birds searching for their next meal in the waters below. Suddenly he felt uneasy. There was something about this – something which just didn't feel right…

A loud banging sound, of metal repeatedly hitting metal, shattered the peace. Senses tingling, AC's body tensed; trouble was close now, and he knew that he had to be ready for anything. Without making a sound, he edged along the wall, taking care to stay close so as to make himself less of a target. He soon came to a hatch. It was half open, so cautiously he peered inside. All he could see was a set of steps leading upwards. He hesitated. A voice at the back of his head was telling him to turn around, to get out of there before …. What?

Again there was the sound of metal striking metal. It was closer now, and seemed to be coming from somewhere above him. Dismissing his doubts, AC once more began to climb….

Three flights of steps brought him to a second hatch. It too was cracked open an inch or so, as if inviting him to step inside. His pulse quickening, he edged it open a little further. He could make out a metal gangway stretching away from him, but not much else; to either side there was nothing but darkness. He paused for a moment, listening. All was quiet – no banging, no voices. Reassured, he slowly pushed open the hatch and slipped inside.

As his eyes adjusted to the darkness he could see that he was in some sort of large storage area. He couldn't make out much, but he guessed that the gangway was around fifteen feet or so from the floor. In the gloom he could see a variety of storage units and crates scattered beneath him, presumably left behind by the last crew to operate the rig. Silently, he began to make his way along the gangway. Shut off from the reassuring sounds of the gulls and the waves lapping against the foot of the rig, the stillness unnerved him a little. Still he pressed on; until he found the source of the banging he had no intention of turning back. After a few seconds the gangway took a ninety degree turn. Following it round, he halted. Ahead of him he could make out a strong light source, illuminating the area to the left of the gangway about twenty feet ahead of him. Sensing that he was getting close, he crouched low as he moved towards the light.

It was then that he saw him.

Corey!

Hanging from chains about three feet off the ground, his friend wasn't moving. AC couldn't see his face, but he knew instantly it was Corey. The wetsuit, the shock of unruly blond hair – it couldn't be anyone else. Immediately AC's instincts took over. He knew that he was in danger, but that didn't matter; all that mattered was saving his friend. Adrenaline pumping, his eyes were suddenly everywhere. Whoever had done this to Corey, they didn't appear to have hung around. Part of him knew that he still hadn't had an answer about what had caused that banging noise, but that didn't stop him vaulting over the safety rail and dropping to the floor below. He landed lightly, his muscles taut and ready for action. Seconds later and he was at his friend's side.

"Corey, dude, it's me – AC!" he whispered. "It's okay, bro – I'm gonna get you out of this."

Corey lifted his head. Gagged with a strip of duct tape, his face was bloodied and bruised. He looked terrified, his eyes widening as he realised what was happening.

"Mmmmmppphhh!" he shouted, shaking his head violently from side to side.

AC tore the tape from his mouth.

"Trap!" he gasped. "Black Manta – it's a trap!"

"Welcome, Aquaman – I've been expecting you."

AC whirled round. There, emerging from the shadows, stood his arch enemy. Clad in his trademark black wetsuit, Black Manta cut a physically imposing figure. Standing over six feet tall, AC was one of the few men who could look him squarely in the eye. That, however, was where the similarity between the two men ended. Where AC was optimistic and full of life, Manta was eaten up by hate. Scarred by a childhood filled with abuse and neglect, he'd grown up damaged and brutalised. In his warped mind the sea had come to represent all that he despised. It had been where he had suffered as a child; now he would master it, make it pay for what he had endured. Aquaman was its champion, its defender, and from their very first encounter Manta had determined to destroy him. It had become an obsession, every bit as powerful as Lex's obsession with the Green Arrow. Countless times he had come close to capturing him, only for AC to slip through the net. This time, however, would be different – this time there would be no escape…

"I knew you'd come," he continued, his voice chillingly calm. "The boy there was the perfect bait – once my men had persuaded him to cooperate."

"This is between you and me, Manta," said AC, placing himself between his friend and the other man. "He's got nothing to do with this."

"Run, AC – get out before it's too late!" pleaded Corey; he knew something of what Manta had planned, although even he didn't know the ace he had up his sleeve….

"Good advice, but I'm afraid your friend is wrong – it's already too late," purred Manta, a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "This game we've been playing? It's over, Curry. You've lost – and now it's time to pay."

"Yeah? I've heard that before, Manta," replied AC defiantly, squaring up to his opponent. "You bad guys, you're all the same – all talk, no action."

"This time things are different – this time I've got this."

For the first time AC noticed that Manta was holding something. About the size of a cell phone, the other man now held it out towards him. "Recognise it, Curry?" he sneered. "Remember what it can do?"

AC's eyes widened. He did recognise it – it was the device that Lex had used to torture him, the device that controlled the chip that was still embedded in his neck…..

Before he had time to react a sheet of pain engulfed his body. Excruciating in its intensity, it seemed to touch every fiber of his being. Grabbing his head, AC cried out in agony, before falling to his knees. The pain worsened, sapping him not only of his strength, but also of his ability to think straight. Soon he was totally incapacitated, writhing helplessly on the floor and gasping for air as his windpipe swelled and began to close. Panicking, he realised that he could hardly breathe.

"Is this enough 'action' for you, boy?" sneered Manta, towering over the stricken hero. "Well, is it? I asked you a question, you fucking piece of shit!"

He kicked AC in the head, blood spurting from the young man's mouth.

"How? How have you….?" choked AC, fighting for breath; Manta's finger was still pressed down on the controller, and he was starting to lose consciousness.

"Ohh, I had a little help," said Manta. "You see, not all of your friends are as loyal as Corey here – even billionaires have their price."

Blinking back the tears, AC looked up. A second man had joined Manta, a man that AC knew well…..

Oliver?!

"Hello, AC," said Bates, grinning broadly.

AC tried to speak, but now no words would come. Leaning down, Manta balled his hand into a fist, and then everything went black.

Another hero falls... Will AC suffer the same fate as Victor? You'll have to wait and see...

Things just keep getting worse and worse for our team, which is just how I like it. Hope you enjoyed this one, and thanks to those who reviewed my last chapter - I really appreciate you taking the time to offer some support and feedback. Please do leave a review for this chapter if you can, and look out for the next chapter in a couple of weeks' time.