It took an effort of will not to show his fury. Luthor grimly oversaw the wreck that was Ivo's lab, the damage and destruction littered throughout it, which had all the hallmarks of a fight happening here.

There was no use asking how or when. It could have only happened while he had been preoccupied with the Metal Men. Intruders…oh, he knew who exactly had gotten down here. Once again, someone had gotten through the security protocols, which was suddenly making him questions their veracity. No doubt, the security feeds would give away who exactly was involved, but just by what he could see, he had several guesses.

"They destroyed him," Ivo moaned, crouched down beside what remained of the latest Amazo model. "He wasn't even finished…"

Weeks it had taken, and weeks was what Ivo had had while building a replacement for the last android. How close had this model been to completion? Those short-sighted, self-righteous… No, no, getting angry now was not going to help. A cooler head was needed.

"Professor, did they get everything?" Luthor asked, keeping his tone even and without any hints of the settling rage beneath it.

Ivo didn't even look up at him. "The database, it's still…in one piece."

So there was that.

Glancing to Mercy, he gave a quick nod and his bodyguard was quick to act. She headed over to the server that held the most valuable data on earth and went about checking it over. While she did not possess his expertise, Mercy was more than competent enough to check on the status of any terminal. It was a requirement for the job, and sometimes you needed an extra pair of hands.

Surveying the lab once more, Luthor clamped on iron control over his emotions. "We're going to rebuild. This mess will be cleaned up. There's still plenty of resources to build another android. This is only a minor setback and nothing else."

Who those words were for, well, they felt more like they were for himself, but given the impression of being in charge went further than you thought. If anyone needed the confidence boost, it was him, and who better to give him that boost than himself? This wasn't the first time one of his labs, or properties, were wrecked, and it wouldn't be the last, and rebuilding was an occupational hazard at worst.

"Lex!" Mercy called out. "They wiped the database. I can't find any of the files."

Luthor exhaled slowly. So there it was, the true purpose for this breakout. Those goodie-goodies figured out that the database existed. Well, if they thought merely wiping and deleting everything on it was going to put an end to the Amazo project, they were sorely mistaken. This was why backups existed, and external hard drives were very useful in such an endeavor.

"Retrieve the backup and load it back up," the mogul ordered. Then to Ivo, "Professor, the first matter of business is to restore the database. You can go about repairing the android after. Now get to work."

Everything took time and retrieving the backup hard drive was no different. It was secured away, and for good reason. The data stored on it was the most valuable thing on the planet and Luthor would be damned if anything happened to it. It was placed close to the database server, and then hooked up. Within the hour, any and all damage that their intruders had done would be undone and he could continue on with business as usual.

Acting as overseer, he watched as the backup was hooked up, the connection established, and expected for the upload to take place. Ivo stood before the nearest monitor, tapping at the keyboard and entering commands. Minutes passed by slowly, and with the same speed did Ivo's brow crease. There was more tapping, the speed markedly increased.

"This isn't right," the professor muttered.

"What is it?" Luthor spoke up, having clearly heard the thinner man.

There was more tapping before Ivo looked up and answered, "Nothing's showing up. That's not possible. The backup was secured; no signs of any tampering. I made sure I was the only one who knew where it was. Everything says that the data is being uploaded, but the database is not responding! It keeps saying there's nothing there!"

The longer he spoke, the more panicked and frustrated Ivo became, and Luthor found his patience at an end. "Disconnect it and give it to me," he ordered. "I'll get it working. You clean up this mess."

When the business mogul left the lab, it was with the hard drive tucked under one arm and his destination his personal office. He knew his way around programming, and he would get this damn thing to work.

He had come too far to let an insignificant setback hold him back.

Bordeaux skimmed over the latest report, already knowing what it was about. It was the latest on their investigation into the World Engine. Much of the report went on and on about its stealth capabilities, which is what they already knew. To get something that big through the atmosphere and not a single one of their instruments detecting it, it could only mean whoever built it did so with secrecy in mind.

It was the perfect weapon in that you could hide its entry and then set it off, everyone else be damned.

Which led to the only other part of the report that was again repeating what was in other reports: they still had no idea how to turn it on. The command center, for lack of better words, was set up in mind with extraterrestrial life, not humans. This included the programming, the language proving to be an impenetrable barrier.

So far, the best they had been able to do was hook up several generators to a terminal to coax it to life so that they could then plug in their own computers to see what they could find out. If only they could figure out how it worked, it would be a game changer.

But that wasn't all. The Green Lantern Corps were still insisting on them turning it over to them. The Thanagarians were dropping none too subtle hints to surrender it to them as well. A.R.G.U.S. had to keep the massive thing hidden, no small feat, and it was now a waiting game until someone lost their patience.

The Director suspected that would happen any day, and she had no intelligence to back it up.

She had called in a few of her senior officers for an impromptu meeting to discuss what they could do. Only one wasn't here physically, but the wonders of technology allowed them a video call. "If anyone has any ideas on how we can better set up our position here, please, tell me," she asked more than demanded. "Our techs are still trying to get more than one monitor to light up. If we can figure out how to not only turn it on, but operate it, it would be a game changer. So anyone? Anybody?"

The fact that no one immediately answered was not surprising.

Gunn had with him a manilla envelope, one of the big ones. Shuffling to the front of everyone, the glorified field agent set it on her desk, muttering, "We just got these. They're the latest pictures of that alien island."

Pictures? Oh yes, satellite imagery. Like hell anyone was going to turn a blind eye to literal alien soil that was sitting happily just off the coast of California. There was still an uproar about it, a lot of career politicians jockeying for political points, their arguments ranging from invading it to making it a codependent protectorate, to the far out there one about building a fence along the coastline—for protection and to prevent more illegal aliens from reaching American shores.

Their intelligence already explained how these literal aliens possessed the ability to fly, so how a wall would stop them was anyone's guess. Not to mention the highly advanced technology they had, which was more than a match for their military.

Which was why figuring out how they could operate the World Engine was crucial. It would level the playing field, so to speak. Bordeaux was under no illusions that if desperate enough, these Tamaraneans would invade in an attempt at a land grab.

That was on top of everything else too.

Picking up the folder, she slipped the images out and looked through them. "Thank you, Gunn. Anyone else want to be productive?"

"It's the same as always," Trevor stated. "We're stalling practically everyone while you have Waller's killers spying in the Gobi. The situation hasn't changed with the exception of another day going by. What do you want from us?"

A lot more than that, but Bordeaux reigned in the sudden flare of temper before it could get out. There was no use in letting any of it slip out, because what would that accomplish? So loudly, "Anything, Waller?"

"Negative. Task Force X hasn't reported anything new, nor have they found anything else."

Nothing then. Her eyes barely saw the latest developments with the Tamaraneans. They were congregating towards the center of the island, their ships parked around in a defensive circle. Someone was trying to order a small city right there. There was some unpacking, but so far no signs of any permanent structures.

So the same thing for the past several weeks. If their plans were to start anew on that rock, they were slow going. Turning to the next image, she gazed dispassionately at what was suspected to be a centralized location of their supplies. It looked like they were feeding themselves, but that could only last so long. The possibility of another invasion would only grow as food stocks dwindled and desperation increased.

Which was another thing. There had been no word from their leader, Blackfire. Oh, and right here was an image of that leader directing members of her own kind, an arm pointing. What was her endgame now that she no longer had the World Engine? She slipped this picture out of the way in favor of the next, but took time to glance at her agents, waiting expectantly.

When there was nothing, "We're running out of time. We all know it. Something is going to give, and at this rate, I fear it will be us."

Another image was tossed onto her desk, nothing there but some Tamaraneans milling about. The next one was just as equally useless. It joined its fellow, landing on top of it. Trevor reached out and picks the two photos up, Bordeaux allowing it.

"Maybe we should be preemptive," Gunn suddenly suggested, looking around the other agents. "Maybe try and launch an offensive. Take control of that island."

"Any ideas how?" Bordeaux asked, not even looking up. There was no immediate protest or shooting down of the idea because that's how desperate she was.

"Call in the marines, do what we did at Normandy," Gunn shrugged his shoulders. "Full offensive."

"Interesting. How do you account for the spaceships and those weapons of theirs? I believe they call them plasma rifles. Would our boys in uniform be able to take a hit from those?" she asked almost listlessly. She hadn't even mentioned the known capabilities of the Tamaraneans yet.

"Maybe we don't need to do that," Trevor interrupted before Gunn could respond. Suddenly placing one of the photos he had picked up earlier down onto her desk, Bordeaux recognized it as the one with multiple Tamaraneans milling about. "See anything that sticks out?"

Frowning, she looked at the photo, and when she didn't immediately say anything, Trevor continued, "One of these things is not like the others, and that one sticks out like a sore thumb." A finger stabbed into the picture, and looking at where it pressed down, Bordeaux finally noticed what she had overlooked.

Tamaraneans were orange, and wore purple and silver as their uniforms. The individual Trevor was pointing out was not orange, but green, and wore more loose robes. Not like the others indeed.

"It's just another alien," Gunn dismissed.

"That looks nothing like the others. Why?" Trevor pressed his case. "Why bring that one along? Blends in badly. Unless there is something important he does. Tamaraneans are fighters, but does that mean they know how to work something like the World Engine?"

Now she was starting to pick on what the blond man was hinting at. "You think this alien might know something?" she asked.

"Does anybody know if he doesn't?" Trevor retorted.

It was a solid enough question that no one here could answer. In light of the fact that they had nothing else, this was the only reason why she considered the gamble.

"Then we'll need to extract him…it."

And chose to take it.

Once the Metal Men had suddenly departed, the Justice League with the Teen Titans in tow did the same. Leaving the area surrounding LexCorp was just prudence as there was no telling what other traps and weapons were lying in wait.

Convening on a rooftop close to the Suicide Slums, an area that Luthor had a sparse presence in, the heroes formed a circle. One could say it was instinctual since no one suggested they do so. Batman took point as he walked right up to the Titans. "What happened?" was his first question.

"No idea," Red Robin answered for his team. "We were running surveillance when those robots attacked. "We must have been spotted somehow."

That was a logical explanation, though it was lacking in detail. "Assuming they're creations of Luthor's, do you have any idea what they were?"

"I can answer that," Cyborg responded. "They match the descriptions of the Metal Man Project we were investigating."

Meaning they were an offshoot of the Amazo Project, benefiting from the superpower database that had been discovered. That last part would be handled shortly if everything went as planned. However, these Metal Men were a concern.

"Luthor's been keeping busy," Superman remarked, his tone indicating he wasn't too happy about this. Neither was Batman, but he at least knew the business mogul was still active instead of simply licking his wounds. "Is it safe to assume you have copies of Luthor's projects?"

"Yeah, I got them right here." Cyborg raised a hand up to his head and tapped the side of it with a finger.

"Then send everything you have to the Watchtower. I want to review everything personally."

"You got it."

"Anyone else notice that these robots had our powers?" Stewart suddenly brought up. "I fought one that had the powers of a Green Lantern and Star Sapphire, which shouldn't be possible given the emotional spectrum."

"That's something I've been looking into," Batman answered him. "Following our encounters with the Amazo robot, the Titans discovered Luthor had a database of all of our superpowers. Clearly he's been putting it to use."

"Why am I not surprised?" Superman grumbled.

"We can't leave something like that alone," the Green Lantern proclaimed. "That's just asking for trouble."

"It's already taken care of," the Dark Knight responded. "While I was in LexCorp with Arrow and the others, we put in place a contingency. That will take care of the database."

"Are you certain?" Stewart pressed. "We can't afford any more missteps."

"Pretty darn certain," Green Arrow replied for the dark-clad man. "On top of that, we caught an early stage of another Amazo robot. We took care of that too, FYI."

"That's good news at least," Flash stated.

"This isn't over, though," Superman pointed out. "We're talking about Luthor, so there's no way this is over."

"Well, that goes without saying."

"There's not much more we can do at the moment," Batman brought up. "We can only wait until Luthor makes his next move. In the meantime, it's time for the Titans to head back to Jump City."

"Huh? Back to Jump?" Beast Boy perked up. "But we were doing a good job! You can still use us!"

"No, Batman's right," Superman was quick to agree. "The League appreciates everything you've done, but we'll be taking over now. Luthor's dangerous and we in no way want to put you in further harm than we already have."

"So you're taking over our investigation? That ain't right!"

"This isn't up for negotiation," Batman cut in. "You've done more than what I asked of you. In no way is this a dismissal for poor performance. That said, you have your obligations to Jump City and you can't perform those while being on the other side of the country."

"But we were kicking so much ass!" Kid Flash protested. "We were made for this! You gotta–"

Before he went much further, Batman took two strides to the speedster and stared down at him. Kid Flash returned his look, only to slowly shrink in on himself, falling silent. "Go. Back. To. Jump," he said slowly, yet forcefully.

There was only silence, only to be broken when Wonder Girl whispered, "I have got to learn that look."

Fully booted up, Luthor inserted the USB cable into a port and established the connection between his computer and the backup hard drive. With the Metropolis skyline as background, the business mogul immediately brought up the file explorer program and searched for the link that would allow him to peruse the valuable data stored away.

It didn't take long, and with a click of his mouse, he was opening up the menu to do a manual look around the backup hard drive and find out what was going on.

It was just another inconvenience, a delay, but once he had this figured out, everything would be back on schedule. Even if that had to mean he moved everything out of that lab, because obviously it was no longer secure, then that's what he would do until the Amazo project produced some valuable fruit—

At which a pop-up window appeared on his monitor, an alert from his computer's antivirus program that he had a malware intrusion.

Before he could even comprehend, on the desktop screen the various icons set up for quick and easy access began to disappear, as if erased from existence. Immediately, Luthor began clicking on the mouse, tapping at the keyboard, trying to play catch up and process what the hell was going on when the notification warning of malware abruptly vanished.

He now had a clear view of his desktop set up, and he was alarmed at the sight of so many programs and quick access icons missing, as if they had never been there or had been wiped away—

Nothing there.

A hand lashed out and picked up a phone receiver. Fingers clumsily pressed down on a series of numbers, a four digit extension number, and just as someone picked up, Luthor roared, "Shut everything down! NOW!"

He had only just figured it out. While the intruders had wiped the database in Ivo's lab, the businessman hadn't considered how it was done. A virus, they had used a virus to wipe the database. Someone had anticipated on him having a backup, and instead of looking for it themselves, they allowed him to bring it out to be victimized by the virus. Since Ivo's lab was cut off from the main servers, any damage that virus would cause would have been limited only to that severed server.

Except, with a now virus-corrupted backup hard drive, he had plugged it into his computer, and as a result uploaded the virus. His computer was connected to the main network, and from that entry point, the virus now had free reign over all of LexCorp.

His grip on the phone receiver tightened, threatening to break it, and as Luthor refocused on his now-wiped monitor, he finally lost his temper. With a yell of fury, he slammed the phone receiver onto the keyboard, smashing it to bits.

That large structure was complete, but the Thanagarians were far from finished with it. All the work being done was on the inside, which meant only one thing.

"We're going to need to get in there and see what's happening," Deadshot had declared.

"Whatever for?" Boomerang had objected. "It's not like any of us will understand what's goin' on."

"We can get pictures," the sniper had replied. After all, it wasn't in the job description to know every teeny, tiny detail.

There had been back and forth, but in the end, the squad had snuck back into enemy territory, through all of the patrols, and were currently slipping into the massive alien structure. The funny thing about it was that there were no doors or anything along the sides, so that meant there was only one way in. That way was from up top, a wide hole if you will, but clearly the easiest way in.

"I don't like this," Boomerang muttered after the descent. Major Force had to be brought along because flight was a very useful talent right about now. It was too important that they didn't give away their presence, not again.

"Can you stop with your whining?" Killer Frost moaned.

"Let's get this job done with so we can leave," Deadshot immediately agreed. "Frost, you're with me. The rest stick together and see what you can find."

It was soon found that while the outside was finished, there was so much work still being done on the inside. This meant sections that were obviously walls had large gaps, so slipping in was easy—too easy. Where it got hard was all the wiring that if you weren't careful could act as a net or some sort of restrain. The sniper had to use his arms to force open openings that he and his squad mate could slip through.

Frost was at least keeping an eye out for any patrols. Over the weeks, it was easy to see how militaristic the Thanagarians were, and this wasn't Deadshot's first rodeo with that type of people. You didn't get world class sniping skills with some self-righteous militia, not when the government hired the best. Self-training could only go so far, you know.

So what was all this amounting to? The cover story was that this all was some kind of defense system, and that was something the assassin knew very little about. This was alien tech, and the lay person knew shit about it. How would anyone recognize anything important? So far, it was just a skeletal inside and virtual walls of wiring that the pair had encountered so far.

"What are we looking for?" Frost hissed between her breath.

"Something that doesn't belong," he found himself answering as he nearly bumped into a wall. They were going to have to go around.

"We don't belong."

A fair point. "Keep your eyes peeled. We need to find something to keep the wicked witch happy."

But that was the thing. When you didn't know what you were looking for, how would you know you found it? It was real easy to say the one thing that just sticks out, all by itself, nothing around it. But they weren't finding that. They weren't finding anything. Oh, they started finding what looked like circuitry, but other than that, nothing else. Nothing…

That thought really prompted Deadshot to take another look around, his head swiveling on his neck. Everything was so closely packed tight, and there was barely any way to maneuver around in it. You had walls, wiring, and circuitry, and if you thought it was odd, there were round protrusions in the walls that could make you think of pipes.

Maybe he was thinking about this wrong. They were so busy looking for something that they weren't thinking about a lack of something. Like space.

"I hate this, you can barely move," Frost muttered her next commentary.

"You can't," Deadshot agreed. "That doesn't make any sense."

"What doesn't?" his frosty squad mate asked.

"This thing is supposed to make a shield, right? We turn it on and off as we need to, don't we?" He was talking through everything right now, reflecting on everything he had seen and not seen as well. "Won't that mean we'll have to do maintenance on it or something? Techs would need to get in here and fix the problem areas, but there's no way anyone would be able to move around here."

Frost was frowning, but now she was really paying attention to their surroundings. "Even advanced tech has wear and tear," she agreed.

"And the aliens have to know that, right? Unless they found a way to beat wear and tear and they're not telling anybody," Deadshot continued. That would be an asshole move, and he would love nothing more than to find a way to keep his weapons in pristine shape without the regular maintenance required to keep them functional.

"Or they don't have any reason to help with that kind of thing," Frost pointed out.

No doors to lead inside. No maintenance tunnels or the like. Everything was pressed together and left no space to move around. Maybe Killer Frost was on to something.

"This stinks," the sniper stated. "There's no way anybody is not going to want to see what this place looks like on the inside." He was talking about humans here, and then he recalled where exactly they were. "Especially the Chinese. They're going to want to make their own Chinese knock-off of this place. If I didn't know any better, I'd say they only intended to turn this place on once."

There was a heartbeat of silence before Frost said, "Maybe that's the idea."

Maybe it was.

"We need to leave."

Now he was going back, trying to find their way to the massive, gaping opening. To his comm link, he gave the order to rendezvous immediately. His gut was telling him something was really wrong about all this. Yes, the Thanagarians were militaristic, but even they had to know about how to maintain their weapons. Nothing was adding up now, and that was the something they were looking for. Let Waller handle the details from there.

It took too much time, and too much effort, but eventually, the pair found their way back to their entrance turned exit. The rest of the squad was waiting for them.

"Finally got yer head on straight?" Boomerang remarked, keeping his voice low instead of being an idiot and yelling.

Ignoring the Central City rogue, Deadshot turned to Major Force. "We need to evac now. Grab two, get them up top, then come for the rest. We need to withdraw ASAP."

A bright light suddenly lit everything up. Multiple head spun around and found what looked like floating tanks, yellow and blue in color, and with turrets aimed right at them. Various Thanagarians kept to the air, either holding those alien rifles or maces that crackled with electricity.

One of the winged aliens hovered in the air with the unmistakable posture of an arrogant prick; oh, and what do you know, that was an awful goatee he had. "Make no movements, Humans. Don't even try to resist. You can try some of those unique powers…" The smug pricks head turned slightly to the side, as if to gesture to the nearest turret. "...but I doubt you would survive the barrage."

"We'll see about that," Major Force growled, nuclear energy beginning to well inside of him.

It should have been expected, but one of the Thanagarians fired. It wasn't one of those shots made of energy, but a device that flew and struck Force on his chest. Cables wrapped over shoulders and under arms, a small device at its center lighting up brightly. Immediately, whatever Force was trying to do ended quickly and he fell to his knees, looking incredibly drained.

"Did you not think we would not detect the presence of a high energy concentration?" the smug Thanagarian called out. "This is the last of our mercy you will receive. Surrender or die."

This was going south in all the wrong ways. Behind him, Deadshot heard Boomerang say, "Waller ain't gonna like this."

No. No, she was not. Which meant no matter what, they were dead. They were all dead. Whether it be to Waller's insurance policy, or to the Thanagarians, it was over for them. Sure, there was something to be said for going out in a blaze of glory, but despite his situation, Deadshot was no a suicidal man.

There had to be some way out of this. To find it, he would have to be alive.

So he held his arms up, both of them, in the classic surrender pose. Oh, this would attract looks from the others, but one by one they would do the same. All together or not at all, that was the kind of group they were, and each and every one of them overestimated the importance of their own lives.

The one thing they all had in common was that none of them were suicidal.