JUST BUSINESS

Critical

„Q?" Bruce spoke into am microphone from behind a laptop in a dark storage-like space.

„I'm inside." The answer was a whisper. "The missile is here."

„Wait for my signal." Bruce switched between channels. „You on him?"

„Like a shadow." Quinn's voice replied low key.

„Good hunting." Bruce switched the link again and Barbara's avatar appeared on screen. „Status?"

„System hacked, dish ready,." She replied in her synthesized voice.

Bruce turned to Fox. „Everything checked?"

„Double checked." The man nodded.

Bruce gave him a long look, as if he wasn't certain they'd see one another again. „You knew nothing of this. You were at the clinic all evening. Leslie will confirm the alibi. Go."

Fox squeezed the younger man's shoulder. „Take care, Bruce." With an exchange of nodds, the old man left.

„What about us?" Gordon walked up to Bruce, Dick and Tim at his rear.

„If we succeed we won't need one. If we fail..." Wayne's voice trailed off.

Gordon held out his hand and Bruce shook it firmly, than he pressed a key. „Go."

The men waited in a tense silence, but not for long.

„Plan B! Plan B!" Q Hollered frantically. „Attempted disarmament triggered emergency launch! The missile is going straight for the Tower!"

„LEAVE." Bruce ordered and than switched the line to Arrow. „Get him out."

„Will do." Quinn whispered back.

Bruce switched again. „Scramble!"

„Already on it." Oracle answered. „Missile deflected, it's aiming for the Sun."

"NEAR satellite grid detected six objects entering the atmosphere." Bruce took a deep breath to steel himself. „Move to Plan C1."

„Beacon active." She replied. „Signal loud and clear."

Bruce got up from the makeshift command and ran to the center of the warehouse. Five, four, three...

Six founding Leaguers crashed through the roof. Taking in the sight of the unpleasantly familiar prison, they froze in shock.

"Clark." Bruce barked, snapping them out of it. "I have to lock you up. I give you my word, nothing will happen to you."

The proximity alarm bleeped. "10 miles." An electronic voice informed.

"Supes?" Wally looked at him for guidance, as did all others save Diana.

The man of steel turned to her. "Is this what he showed you?"

"Yes."

"9 miles."

"Clark, we don't have much time." Bruce growled, annoyed by the procrastination.

"8 miles."

"Trust me." He knew the secret word, but couldn't force himself to say it.

"7 miles."

Dammit. "Please."

Clark made a sharp nod and Bruce returned it. "Light's on. Leaguer's in assigned cells. Sedatives. He was in command mode again. "NOW."

„6 miles."

Leaguers moved into hight-tech jail cells improvised out of cargo containers. The Gothamites locked them up and administered the personalized sedatives. Red lights and heaters flickered to life, setting the stage. The proximity alarm moved with the countdown.

„1 mile" Came the final warning.

The rattle of chopper blades steadily grew louder.

„Hide." Bruce shot the other men a stern look.

Gordon and the youths took shelter under a led trap door. Marines burst inside from every door and window, surrounding an unmoving, unphased Bruce.

"Hold your fire." Amanda's voice came from the main entrance.

"Ms. Waller." Wayne greeted calmly.

"Unit, fall back." She ordered and the marines promptly left, holding perimeter outside the warehouse.

Walking over, Bruce pulled a CD from his chest pocket. "Evidence of Luthor's scheemes." He handed it over. "I leave him to your better judgment."

Amanda squinted at him, tapping the disk. "I leave them to your judgment." She said, glancing over the incapacitated leaguers. At the door, she paused for one last look back. "And you to their."

As the chopper rattle faded out, Bruce let out a deep breath he didn't notice holding. "All clear." He called out. "Let's wake them up."

To be continued...