VELOCITY
A Justice League Fan-Fiction by neomage
(DISCLAIMER: Justice League, Justice League Unlimited, and all characters therein are owned by DC Comics and the Warner Bros. animation studios.)
Chapter 29
Justice League Watchtower, 4:20 p.m.
"Ow…ow…"
"Just stay still, Dr. Light," the medic advised. "You'll be all right."
Dr. Light was currently sitting up on a bed in the Watchtower's infirmary, her arm in a sling, even as the medic carefully wrapped a thick bandage around her head. "I can't believe I could've let that guy get the drop on me," she lamented.
Nearby, Superman was shirtless and having his chest examined with a stethoscope by another medic. "Take a deep breath, Superman," this medic instructed. "Yeah, there you go…hmm, you said you took a blow to the chest?"
"Yeah," Superman replied, and then cleared his throat. "That Zoom…he shoved me in the chest at super-speed."
"Well, if you were a normal person your windpipe would've definitely been crushed by an attack like that," the medic observed. "I didn't hear any irregularity with the stethoscope just now, but how do you feel? Does it still hurt to breathe now?"
Superman inhaled again. "Still feels a little sore…but I can handle it," he replied.
Not far away, Green Lantern was also shirtless and propped up on another bed, his torso and neck bandaged up. "Considering it was you he pulled that stunt on, I'm still surprised he didn't break his hands doing it…makes you wonder just how he could've pulled it off," he said to Superman. "Although, you think you could give me some of that invulnerability and quick healing that you've got? My ribs need some healing, too, you know." He chuckled as he said this.
"And save some for my arm and my head, too," Dr. Light spoke up.
"If only I could," Superman chuckled as well. "Oh…speaking of healing…" He turned his head toward the far end of the infirmary, where Dr. Fate and Booster Gold were still lying on their beds, unmoving. "Those guys…they're still out of it…"
"And I guess they're not done with Flash, yet, either," Lantern added, the grim look from earlier returning to his face.
Just then, the infirmary doors slid open—and another medic walked in, pushing a wheelchair ahead of him. In that wheelchair sat Flash, a cast on one leg and bandages wrapped around his otherwise exposed torso. "Hey, guys," he greeted them. "Miss me?"
"Flash!" Dr. Light exclaimed.
"Well, look who decided to join us in here," Lantern said wryly. He eyed Flash's leg-cast. "So…not gonna be running up and down anytime soon, huh?"
"Nope…" Flash looked a little dejected at this. "They just told me everything. Three broken ribs…a cracked kneecap…and a lung that was close to being punctured thanks to one of my ribs breaking inwards…my speed lets me heal pretty fast, but even with that, with how badly I got bashed around, it'll take at least two days before I can even start recovering fully."
"Two days?" Dr. Light scowled. "That's not good…that guy, Zoom, is still running loose. Even the three of us together couldn't do anything to stop him."
"We tried everything, but he kept getting the upper hand over us," Lantern added. "That guy's a complete psycho now, and the longer he stays on the loose, the worse the situation is going to get. If he didn't have speed like yours, we could've dealt with him good and proper, but…"
"Hey, wait—what about Superman? He's got super-speed, too!" Flash protested.
"But that didn't make one bit of difference," Superman answered. "Flash, there's a reason you've been known as 'The Fastest Man Alive' up to now. Out of everybody in the Justice League who has some degree of super-speed, you're the only one whose speed is practically unmatched. Not only can you run at light-speed, you can think and react at light-speed also. But Zoom can do all that too, only he isn't held back by the restriction of never taking a life. If I had to guess, I'd say that that lack of reserve is what's letting him be so fast…even fast enough to beat you."
"So? Then I'll just have to be faster than him," Flash countered.
"You make it sound so simple, but it really isn't, is it?" asked Lantern. "That guy threw away all sense of morality…compared to you, he's not afraid to use his speed to hurt innocent people. If you're going to be faster than him…if you're going to be able to stop him…then you're probably going to have to be willing to kill him. Are you prepared to do that?"
Flash frowned. "Huh…I don't know…I mean, I've never killed anybody before…and besides that, underneath that mask, he…"
"He is no longer the Hunter Zolomon you were acquainted with, Flash. Get it through your head from right now."
All of them glanced up at the sound of the voice—and standing there in the doorway was Mr. Terrific. "How long were you there, dude?" Flash asked incredulously.
"Long enough." Mr. Terrific's tone was devoid of humor. "In any case, Flash…I have the information here that you had asked for, as well as info on that individual Question was telling you about." He reached into his coat and pulled out a file-jacket. "This is the copy he gave to me. Take your time going through it…it's not like you'll be going anywhere for now, anyway."
"So, wait—where's Question, anyway?" Flash asked as he accepted the file-jacket.
"He went back down to Central City to keep tabs on the situation and further assess whatever damage is down there," Mr. Terrific replied. "You won't have to worry about him—he's not so reckless as to knowingly take on an enemy he's got no chance against."
"Let's hope so," said Superman. "So, Flash, what's in the folder?"
"Hmm…" Flash opened the file-jacket.
--
Blacksmith Corporation, 4:25 p.m.
The door to Amunet Black's private room opened, and she stepped inside. Slipping off her suit-jacket, she casually tossed it onto a nearby coat rack, then reached down and slipped her shoes off, one after the other…
…and then she paused and looked hard toward one of the corners. "How long have you been in my room, stranger?"
Over in that corner, the Question was seated on a chair, right leg propped up on his left knee, arms crossed over his chest. "Quite a while," he replied calmly. "I dare say, Ms. Black, you've got it made. To have your home stationed in the same building as your business-place…you never have to commute, the way everyone else does."
"Thank you," said Ms. Black. "I've heard of you…the faceless crackpot of the Justice League. But do tell, how did you manage to get up here, anyway? This whole building is teeming with the finest-trained security guards, as well as an electronic detection system that's never failed."
Question chuckled at that under his featureless mask. "If an ordinary man such as myself could get into your private quarters without being seen or caught, your security's probably not as good as you make it sound."
"Hmm…perhaps." Ms. Black walked over to a small dining table, on which rested a decanter of red wine and two upturned glasses. "Would you care for a drink, since you're a guest…however uninvited you may be?" she asked, picking up one of the glasses and opening the decanter.
"I'll pass. I don't want anyone claiming that I was under the influence while making the claims I'm about to make," said Question.
"And what sort of claims would those be?" Ms. Black asked, now in the process of filling her glass from the decanter.
Question leaned forward slightly, resting his elbows on top of his upraised leg, intertwining the fingers of both hands together and under his chin. "Amunet Black. Age: 33. Height: 6'1''. Weight: 198 pounds. Parents: names and status unknown. Citizenship: American. Education: graduated summa cum laude from the New York State University with a Bachelor of Science in Business Administration, specializing in Business Law, at the age of 20. Afterwards, attended Oxford University in England, earning a Master of Mathematics and Philosophy degree and a Bachelor of Science degree in succession. Later, established Blacksmith Corporation in Keystone City, specializing in providing business strategy advice to low- and middle-tier companies and development of technology for bioengineering; the company has been in business for the past five years, with its only competition being Lexcorp and Wayne Enterprises, but nonetheless it makes in excess of four billion dollars per quarter."
Ms. Black smiled and took a sip of her wine. "So it seems you've done quite a lot of research. I applaud your efforts."
"I'm not done, madam," said Question. "All that I've said just now is the legitimate side of your life. However, now we come to the flip side." He twiddled his thumbs even as his other fingers remained intertwined. "The facts are as follows: Blacksmith Corporation's work is merely a front for your true occupation, that of an arms dealer. But not just any arms dealer, no—you specialize in super-powered weaponry, the kind that's powerful enough to subdue even a member of the Justice League. From bio-engineered chemicals to mechanical armament, as long as you can create and market it, and as long as the clients can meet your price, you will sell it to them."
He nodded meaningfully. "Four years ago, a certain government organization began development of a weapons project through STAR Labs' Japanese branch…however, some time after the project had begun, it was suddenly stopped. By that time, they'd gotten to the testing stages…and their tests were remarkably successful, and would have garnered even more success had they been allowed to continue further into their research. The result of that research was blacklisted by the Japanese government; anyone caught trying to export it would face criminal charges. However…"
Ms. Black lifted an eyebrow.
"…that research result has been steadily smuggled out of Japan, and onto U.S. shores," Question resumed. "What is that substance? It's called Lubrilon…a chemical polymer that, when applied to a solid surface, makes it virtually frictionless, impossible to grasp. Applied to certain types of weaponry, specifically body armor, it would increase the chances of success in close-range combat by 70 percent, at the least. But even though Japan outlawed international distribution of Lubrilon, nonetheless it has found its way into our local black market. How could that be possible? That was the question I asked myself. And the answer I found…although it would shock the average man, it did not surprise me in the least. In fact, the answer I found was the kind of answer I had been expecting to find."
He uncrossed his arms and began to tap the middle of his palm with his other hand's fingertips as he continued to speak. "There were three people involved in all of this. The first was Professor Emil Hamilton, director of STAR Labs, who spearheaded the research that brought about the creation of Lubrilon in the first place. The second was General Wade Eiling, of the U.S. Air Force, who had placed the order for Lubrilon's creation on behalf of that government organization I spoke of a while ago. And then there was the third person…you, Ms. Black."
Ms. Black took another sip of her wine, keeping her eyes on Question all the while.
"Project Cadmus…the shadow cabinet that was created to counteract the Justice League should it ever go rogue," Question went on. "Hamilton served on their main council as their genetics expert, and Eiling was their military tactician. So where does that place you? Well, Cadmus had much financial backing and the support of the government…but it also had a great number of weapons and other accessories that even the government would not have approved of. Cadmus was determined to achieve its objectives by any means necessary, even if it constituted bending or breaking the law. And that was where you came in…your company served as the back door through which Cadmus could acquire whatever it could not obtain legally in its opposition against the Justice League."
As he continued talking, Question slowly stood up from the chair. "Using Hamilton's name and influence in STAR Labs and Eiling's power as a military representative, combined with your own underworld authority, you could quietly ship any amount of Lubrilon you wanted out of Japan to anywhere in the world you pleased. And since only a small amount of Lubrilon was actually made by STAR Labs, its cost would be that much higher. You'd be able to sell it to anyone who could be persuaded with the idea of having a chemical polymer of such wondrous potential as Lubrilon possesses, so long as they could meet your asking price. That's how Lubrilon ended up on America's black market—you put it there."
At this point Ms. Black set her wine glass back down on the table, and applauded. "That was quite a creative story, my good man," she remarked. "Military and scientific influence being used to smuggle something like that from one country to another, while using the mask of benevolence to conceal the fact…it's the stuff spy thrillers are made of. You ought to be a novelist, you know—your imagination would sell very well among fans of fiction."
"Hold your applause—my story's not finished yet," Question told her.
"No?" Ms. Black seemed surprised.
"In fact, this is where it gets most interesting," said Question. "I did some further digging, because I had a few other questions that still needed answering. For instance, when you founded Blacksmith Corporation, you could have selected any major city in this country, or even in the world—so why did you choose Keystone City? Was there a particular reason for that choice? And then I thought about it some more…the super-criminals that the Flash has had to fight over the years within the Central-Keystone area…every time they've re-emerged to challenge the Scarlet Speedster, their various gadgets have steadily improved, making most of them more difficult to defeat over time. Sure, Flash has always been able to best them…but why have their weapons and skills improved so much, even for their experience? And that was when I reached a conclusion…"
"And what conclusion was that?" asked Ms. Black.
"After I learned that the Thinker had coated his weapon from yesterday, the Think Tank, with Lubrilon, it all became clearer to me," said Question. "You're an arms dealer, but supplying ordinary criminals and warmongers could never be enough. So…you've decided to take it a step further, and supply costumed criminals and meta-human villains with whatever weapons or other devices they need to pull off their capers. And the most readily available market in that regard would be among the enemies of the Flash, since they have been defeated by him so many times and so much more easily than the foes of any other well-established superhero. Perhaps the payment they give you for your services isn't much, but you do provide a constant supply for them…and your ill-gotten funds from offshore weapons dealing, plus the money you make doing legitimate work using Blacksmith Corporation's public face, is more than enough to sustain you for as long as you need."
"Hmm." Ms. Black stepped toward Question, stopping only two feet away from him. "All right. Let's say, for the sake of argument now, that everything you've just said about me is true. Here's my question: I have a successful company that makes billions of dollars every year as it is. Why would I supply weapons to anyone, or smuggle such a contraband government project anywhere?"
"Reasonable question, for which I have a simple answer," said Question. "The human intellect can be marred by desire. Desire in itself is not evil, but—desire for what? Children, being immature, desire more toys, more time to stay up past their bedtime, more friends for themselves, more cookies from the cookie jar. Adults, on the other hand, can desire far more sinister goals…more money…more power…more control over others. That's your motivation—desire for more. In spite of their genius with their various abilities, the great majority of the Flash's enemies stick to small-time crimes such as robbery, which makes them appear tame in comparison to other super-criminals. But you're no small-time crook…and you won't settle for using your power and influence to steal a few wads of cash or a few jewels at a time. No…why settle for such trivial things that can easily be spent at a moment's notice…when you can have ultimate power at your disposal? And you've got more than just your money to help with that."
"Really, now?" Ms. Black queried.
Question nodded his head once. "When I entered this building, I took a little time and did some exploring. After all, within this building you must have a few secrets cached away…and every secret has a hiding place. So, I explored…and what did I find? Of course—a team of your employees working on suits of armor, not unlike the one used by that muscleman you hired to cause havoc in this town earlier this morning. I saw your videotape of that incident; I saw your secret transaction with overseas buyers to purchase these suits of armor from you—just one glimpse through your electronic database and I saw it all. As well-hidden as the evidence was, you should've taken further steps to ensure that it wouldn't be found—by, perhaps, not having kept the evidence around in the first place."
For the first time, Ms. Black's eyes narrowed.
"Your face has tensed…even if a person can lie with their mouth, some other part of their body will eventually give them away," Question said in a low voice. "Bury the truth as much as you want…but it will be ferreted out."
Slowly, Ms. Black turned away from Question and walked over to the nearby wall, on which there hung a painting; reaching up, she adjusted the position of the frame slightly. "What is truth? As far as I believe, one's perception of truth can easily be changed depending on the situation. So, your claims against me just now, they may in fact be truth…but they will only be your truth. For anyone else, their truth is that I am simply a businesswoman with the interests of the populace in mind. Their truth where I am concerned will not include me being an arms dealer, or a supplier of weapons to super-criminals, or anything so underhanded. Wouldn't you agree?"
"When the truth is right in front of your eyes, it's hard to explain it away," said Question.
"Hard, perhaps, but not impossible if you know what to obscure and what to showcase," Ms. Black countered, walking away from the painting and toward the nearby window that overlooked the city.
"And how do you intend to obscure what I've discovered? Will you purge all knowledge of that from existence…and attempt to kill me to further ensure silence on the matter?" the faceless man asked.
"That would be the easy thing to do…but…" Ms. Black shrugged. "Considering who you are, it's highly likely you may have somehow already made copies of your findings, including the ones you've made here in my headquarters, and may have made some arrangement for their distribution to the proper authorities. If I kill you, that may well be the intended trigger for my own downfall."
"Perhaps." Question shrugged, too. "The question then becomes…are you willing to take that gamble? For all you know, I could be bluffing. I have been inside this building only a little while, after all."
"And for all I know, it may not be a bluff." Ms. Black looked over her shoulder at him and chuckled. "I didn't come all this way by following the first option that came before my eyes. I take all things into account...and if there are any unforeseen variables that show themselves, I find a way to work with them as part of my plans."
"And what are your plans, Ms. Black?" asked Question. "I already know this much of what you've been doing…how much worse could it get if I know the full story?"
Ms. Black chuckled a little. "Indeed…how much worse?" She turned fully, looking straight at Question. "All right…since you've seen so much already, it won't make much of a difference."
Question watched her carefully.
Ms. Black turned back toward the window and looked out at the city again. "This area…under its current administration, it's not all that strong. What Central and Keystone Cities need is true leadership…leadership born of power, of wealth, of influence. And only I can provide the kind of leadership these people need. Of course, gaining control would be a big problem if the super-criminals who prowl these streets are allowed to roam about as they please…or if the Flash should be around to pose a potential threat to me…to speak nothing of the trouble I would be in with the general public in these two cities if they were to learn of my…extracurricular activities."
"How do you intend to remedy all of that, then?" Question queried.
"Yes…the details of that plan…" Ms. Black headed to the other side of the room and sat on the edge of her bed, slowly rubbing her hand over the edge of the bedpost and crossing one leg over the other. Question, however, remained unmoved by this gesture even as the woman continued talking.
"My plan works in stages, you see," Ms. Black went on. "The first stage: secure a power base for myself within these twin cities, which I was able to accomplish with my company here," and she gestured with a wave of her arm, "and my underground market. The second stage: gain the people's trust, which I have done to a great degree using my company's power and wealth. The third stage: weaken the security forces in this area, which I was able to accomplish by having my hired man, Razer, severely weaken the ranks of the city's police force with his attack earlier today. The fourth stage: secure the cooperation of the one most intelligent member of the Flash's enemies who was within my reach, the Thinker. The fifth stage: ensure that the city's protector, the Flash, is put out of the way…which was done not by me or any of my subordinates, but by that yellow-clad speedster who's shown up out of nowhere; an unexpected variable, but certainly not an unwelcome one, if I dare say so myself."
"Mmm-hmm," said Question. "Are there any other stages in your plan?"
"Why, of course," said Ms. Black. "Two stages still remain in my plan. The first…via the Thinker and his Thinking Cap, I will control the minds of those simpletons over at Iron Heights Penitentiary, so that they will release from their cells every super-villain that has ever plagued Central and Keystone Cities. Then, by having Thinker place a hypnotic suggestion into the minds of those released criminals, I will have them run amok throughout the city streets, creating panic and chaos at selected points on both cities' maps. That is when the final stage of my plan will come into being."
"And that is…?" Question paused.
"Fear is a great motivator. So is chaos. So is desperation. The people will be so terrified, seeing their city being so brutally ravaged, their police force down for the count, and their Scarlet Speedster out of commission, that they will become willing to do anything, look to anyone, to save them from their misery." Ms. Black nodded meaningfully. "At the moment when things seem at their worst, my most well-trained employees will step into the picture, armed with those special armors that you saw my scientists working on, and they will quell the anarchy. And since the mayors of Central and Keystone Cities and anyone else close enough to inherit the position from them will be made into…unfortunate casualties of the super-criminals…it will be a simple matter for me to step up to the plate and assume leadership of the entire area."
"Sounds quite complicated," Question remarked. "But allow me a few questions further. How do you know that that speedster who took out the Flash won't screw up your plans? How do you know that the Thinker will not betray you? And…how do you even know that I won't just try to stop you myself, right here and now, before you can progress any further?" And as he said this, he reached up with one hand and loosened his tie a little.
"Reasonable questions…for which I have simple answers," said Ms. Black. "That other speedster…I will integrate him into my plans, and if he cannot be integrated, he will simply be disposed of. The Thinker…he and I have an understanding, let me say, as to what we want out of all this. I want control over this whole area…he wants the complete and utter destruction of the Flash by his own two hands. And as for you…what makes you think that I would just sit back and allow the likes of you to kill me in my own bedroom?"
"If you intend to fight me, then come," Question said coolly. "Otherwise, just stay right there…" He took a step forward.
"Oh, I'm quite capable of fighting if it comes down to it—but why should I waste effort doing that…" A glint appeared in Ms. Black's eyes. "…when there are easier ways of subduing an enemy…?"
CRASH! The door to the bedroom slammed open. As Question turned by reflex, he was met by the sight of numerous suited guards pouring in with guns drawn and pointed straight at him. "Wha…!" he began.
"Heh." Ms. Black calmly stood up and walked out of the guards' line of sight. "You thought you'd evaded my security system completely, did you? Well…just to let you know…" She pointed at the bedpost. "When I sat there a moment ago and touched that part of the bedpost…I touched a hidden switch that alerted the guards to come straight up to this room." She smirked. "Like I told you, I take all things into account."
"It would certainly seem that you do," Question remarked.
"You were quite a good source of conversation…a shame I'll have to get rid of you shortly," Ms. Black continued. "But then again, didn't you think it the least bit suspicious that I would so freely tell you my plans?"
"To be honest, the thought HAD crossed my mind," Question admitted. "But then I asked myself, why not take the gamble?"
"You must not value your life so much, do you?" Ms. Black asked.
Question shrugged. "I've experienced worse. A bunch of goons with guns…mild by comparison."
"Nonetheless, the situation isn't very favorable for you," said Ms. Black. "You broke into my building, entered my private room; I alerted my security personnel, you resisted, and they shot you down. Self-defense, defense of life and property. Everyone will eat it up…and since you're a member of the Justice League, even by association with you, their good name will be tarnished, no matter how little."
"And yet you said moments ago that you wouldn't risk killing me, in case my death might be the trigger for your downfall," Question reminded her. "Are you going to take that gamble, after all, then?"
"Well, evidence does have a way of…being glossed over, shall we say?" said Ms. Black. "And considering that it's coming from you, the general populace won't think much of it." She leered at him. "Perhaps you should've thought this whole thing out a bit more thoroughly, hmm?"
"Hmm." Question slowly raised a hand and touched the brim of his fedora. "Madam…that is the right question."
Suddenly, before Ms. Black or the guards could react, Question darted for the window! "What the—stop him!" Ms. Black shouted. In response, some of the guards opened fire, even as Question burst through the window with a crash…and looked down at the ground several stories below…
--
CHAPTER 29 COMPLETE! CHAPTER 30 COMING UP!
(NOTE TO BE MADE: For a while I was wondering whether to have Amunet Black reveal her ability that she has in the comics, the ability to merge flesh with metal and transform her own skin into ebony metal…but then I decided against it, as it would then be too much like the confrontation between Question and Lex Luthor in the "Question Authority" episode of JLU. Also, I've been suffering from some serious writer's block this week, perhaps due to the fact that I'll be going home soon and won't have Internet access for a while when I get back there…so everyone, don't be too surprised if I don't update this or my other in-progress stories for a while. No worries, though; I'll still continue to update whenever I can, so I ask that all of you just be patient with me. Anyway, please review this chapter soon, and to the fullest!)
