JSA: Atrocity
By Bruce Wayne
DISCLAIMER: Most of the characters portrayed in this story are copyright by DC Comics, an AOL/Time/Warner company. They are used without permission for entertainment without profit
by the author.
An Elseworld's story: Stories, situation or events involving familiar characters in unfamiliar settings.
Chapter 20
Batman jumped from behind the controls. The downdraft of the twin rotor blades whipped up his cape as he ran toward the yellow-and-white chopper.
Hourman was dragging a slightly built, blond-haired man from behind the controls of the aircraft. Hourman's left arm was drenched in blood. His right was clamped around the man's throat.
"What the hell happened to you?" Batman shouted over the noise of the throbbing choppers, screams and police sirens in the background.
"This S.O.B. shot me." Hourman grabbed Flyboy by the throat, making him cough. "Now tell them what you told me," the Man of the Hour shouted to Mason, shaking him by the neck again.
"It won't do you any good. The bomb's on one of the subway trains. It left about twelve or fifteen minutes ago ... timer's set to go off when it hits the downtown section of the city."
Sandman pulled back his suit jacket sleeve, looking at his watch. "Hell!" he snarled.
"Won't do you any good," Flyboy said again. "Six guys on board -- they think it's goin' off with a timer switch they'll set when they hit the end of the line just past Maple Park. But it won't. It'll go off and take them with it!"
Batman growled, "Hold him, Hourman." And he was already running, trying to move his way through the crowd of curious onlookers blocking his way to the yard house. It was at the far end of the parking lot. Mr Terrific was running beside him.
"What the hell's going on?" Mr Terrific asked.
"Bomb ... set to blow up in your downtown ... in fifteen minutes or so ... six guys guarding it on a subway train. Come on!" He kept running, hearing Mr Terrific shouting something but not bothering really to listen. Batman had to get the number of that train.
Police cars were converging on the area as he reached the end of the parking lot. Batman scaled
a chest-high chainlink fence. A few moments, he reached the top of the steps and tried the switchhouse door. It was locked. Two men were inside, one on the phone, both looked frightened. Batman took a half step back, then forward, his left foot punching through the glass in the door. He reached his hand through the hole in the glass and twisted the knob, then threw the door open.
He stepped in, glass crunching under his black-booted feet. He grabbed the front of the shirt of the man on the telephone. "We're the good guys ... so help us out ... now!" Get on the radio to the train that left here about fifteen minutes ago ... stop them. There's a bomb on board laced with nerve gas set to go off in less than fifteen minutes ... right in the middle of downtown. Now move!"
The man dropped the receiver. A voice still came scratchily off the line. Batman replaced the swinging receiver on its cradle.
The man was at the radio set. "This is South switchyard ... calling train sixteen oh-one ... come back --"
There wasn't any answer for a moment.
"This is sixteen oh-one. What's up?"
"Some guys in funny costumes here claim they got a bomb on board your train ... set to blow up when you reach downtown. Bomb with nerve gas, they say --"
The voice came over the speaker, "Hey, Bob, what the hell you guys --"
The voice went dead -- static.
Batman grabbed the microphone in his left fist, ramming down the talk button. "Whoever it is on the train ... you six men ... you've been fooled by False-Face. He's killing you, too. The bomb's set to go off when you hit downtown. Your timer's a fake ... Flyboy told us ... come in -- come in --"
Nothing.
"A bomb with nerve gas ... you'll kill thousands, even yourselves."
Nothing.
"All those people," he said, staring at the other men in the room.
Batman looked at Mr Terrific.
The Caped Crusader closed his eyes, shaking his head to clear it, to think. He looked up at the man who had used the radio. "Bob, is that your name?"
"Yes, I'm Bob --"
"Right," Batman said. "Bob, call the police. Tell them what's happening. Tell them the JSA is going to stop the train even if we have to derail it. Not sure if a concussion like that would --"
"It would go off that way," Mr Terrific said soberly, all the usual bravado of his voice gone. "Remember, I'm an explosives expert. It'd go off sky-high."
"Then we won't derail it." Repeating the number, he said to Bob, "Sixteen oh-one -- right?"
"Right," Bob confirmed, sweating his face white. "I really believe you, hell! We just don't get guys dressed as you breaking in here everyday."
Batman turned to Mr Terrific. "We take one whirlybird, you, me, Hourman, Flyboy, Wildcat, and Sandman. We'll leave Dr Mid-Nite to explain it."
Sirens were loud now. Through the glass of the switch house blue lights appeared to be everywhere. "What about the police?" Mr Terrific asked.
"Do anything short of killing them if they get in our way. But we must get to the blue-and-white chopper. Come on." Batman started for the door.
With Mr Terrific beside him, he started to run. Gateway City police, unfamiliar with who Batman was, were racing toward them, shouting, "Police, hold it!"
The nearest police officer, a revolver in his right hand, started for him. Batman wheeled half right, his left foot snaking out in a double kick to the chest, hammering the man back against two more officers.
Someone shot at him. The slug ricocheted off pavement near his feet. Batman yelled at the officers, "There's a bomb on train sixteen oh-one that is laced with dangerous nerve gas ... take that yellow-and-white whirlybird up and follow us if you want to, but help us to stop it.!"
"Surrender!" a police officer yelled, edging toward them, gun drawn.
"The Chopper's right behind us," Mr Terrific said.
Batman nodded, his eyes never wavering from the crowd, "Dr Mid-Nite?"
"Right here, Batman," came Mid-Nite's voice from behind.
"Get Hourman, Flyboy ... better have Sandman and Wildcat, too. Hourman looked like he was losing blood fast. Get them on the blue-and-white helicopter and cover us while we get airborne. Then straighten this out with the police. You may have to call Wonder Woman in Washington. The train is sixteen oh-one. We're going after it ... try to stop the bombers and disarm the weapon."
"But how --"
"Let you know when I figure it out myself," Batman snapped. The Caped Crusader ticked off thirty seconds in his head.
"All right, they're aboard. I'm staying behind," Dr Mid-Nite shouted.
While looking at the crowd and the officers, Batman edged toward the chopper. Mr Terrific was climbing aboard, visible out of his left peripheral vision.
Then Batman jumped aboard. He sat at the controls and revved the engine and started to lift off. The police were closing in. Dr Mid-Nite would handle the situation in his usual congenial, diplomatic style.
"Let's get going!" Mr Terrific shouted over the whir of the rotors.
Batman just looked at him, nodding.
"What the hell are we doing?" Hourman asked.
The Caped Crusader did not glance over at him. He was busy banking the chopper steeply as he picked up the highway beneath him. On the subway tracks running alongside, he saw the train.
"Well?" Hourman's voice demanded.
"Mr Terrific and I have to get on that train, get inside --" Batman craned his neck to look at Billy Mason. "Okay, Flyboy, I hear you're one of the best helicopter pilots there is. Well, now's the time to do your stuff. You have to get this thing steady enough that we can climb down, then fly it up and away and follow us."
"Like hell!" Flyboy snarled.
"If you don't do exactly as I say, we'll die when that weapon blows, so Hourman here won't have anything to lose. Even with one arm out of commission he'll rip you apart, dismember you, gouge your eyes out, the whole nine yards, Flyboy. And in case Hourman gets tired, Wildcat there'll help him."
"Right on," Wildcat grunted.
Batman asked, "So, you going to cooperate or get your head twisted off?"
He glanced back at Billy, whose eyes gave the answer.
"Good boy, Flyboy. Maybe you'll get fifty or sixty consecutive life sentences for helping us out, who knows."
"Who are you guys?" Flyboy pleaded.
Batman and rest of the crimefighters ignored the question. The Caped Crusader started dropping his altitude, skimming over the traffic now over the lanes of the highway, trying to read the number on the train as he passed it. The lead car's number panel showed something besides sixteen oh-one. He gunned the aircraft, climbing, heading over the tracks again.
"Remember, Flyboy," Batman shouted, seeing the next train ahead of them. "Do exactly as I say. Then when I'm gone, do what Hourman there says."
"Can I rip him apart now, Batman, huh?" Hourman asked.
"Not yet," Batman replied, bringing the chopper down again over the in-bound lanes of the highway. He skimmed the traffic trying to see the lead car.
Then Mr Terrific spoke. "That's it, Batman! Sixteen oh-one."
"Great," Batman rasped. "Get Flyboy down here." To his right he saw Billy Mason and Sandman changing places. "Okay, I'm giving you the controls at the count of three. Fly well, Mason, for your sake." The chopper climbed and dropped as Flyboy took over. "Getting the feel of it?" the Caped Crusader asked.
"Right," Mason said, looking at him a moment, saying nothing else.
"Get us over the train, wherever you can. Watch for the power cables that run near the tracks."
"I've done tougher than this," Flyboy snarled.
Batman unbuckled his seat restraint, turning to Mason standing behind him. He moved toward the pilot door, looking at Flyboy. "I'm ready when you are." Gotham's avenger ticked off the numbers in his head. He estimated they had about ten minutes left.
"That thing's going pretty darn fast," Mr Terrific shouted over the slipstream. Both the pilot's side door and the passenger door were open slightly, and the wind whistled loudly through the cockpit.
The train was approaching a station. The helicopter was closing in now. The red warning lights on the track flashed to stop the train, but it was neither stopping nor slowing.
"They're panicking, trying to get to as close to downtown as fast as they can!" Batman shouted.
The helicopter dropped, skimming perhaps twenty feet over the roof of the train. Flyboy shouted, "I'm setting over the lead car, then matching my speed so I can drop you on the roof of the last car. Best I can do!"
The Masked Manhunter of Gotham City looked at him through his cowl, nodding.
The helicopter was going in. The lead car was beneath them now. Batman stepped out onto the runner, holding on to the doorframe. The door fought him as the slipstream tried to push it closed. He could see Mr Terrific's lower legs and feet -- the door for the passenger ingress blocked the rest of his green-clad body.
Billy Mason expertly avoided the high tension lines flanking them as he slowed the helicopter to match the speed of the train. Batman looked down at the traffic. The rushing wind distorted his features and whipped at his cape.
The helicopter was settling, six feet over the rear car now, as Hourman shouted, "He says do it now!"
Batman jumped, seeing a blur as Mr Terrific jumped, too. The Caped Crusader's feet impacted against the curved roof of the car. He spread-eagled himself with his hands splayed across the roof.
Batman twisted around. Mr Terrific was slightly behind and beside him.
The World's Greatest Detective shouted at Mr Terrific. "Remember, six of them, probably only with handguns. But they're desperate. If they believed me, they already know they're dead, and if they didn't --"
Batman heard two loud thumps behind him on the roof. Wildcat and Sandman had landed to assist.
"Hey, Batman, just like in the old days -- you and me fighting side by side for once, huh?"
The Masked Manhunter's lip twitched as he started to crawl toward the rest of the car.
He looked skyward, but the helicopter was out of sight. His fingers reached for the edge of the roof, pulling him toward it. There was no way to guard against the six bombers waiting for him there, so he swung his left leg down. When his leg didn't get shot off, Batman figured it was okay, and he swung the rest of his body down and in. His face was just above the train car's roof as he glanced forward. The purplish gray of the skyline for Gateway City's downtown area was ahead of him.
The Caped Crusader dropped to the platform and shoved his back against the wall flanking the door leading into the car.
He could see Mr Terrific's feet now. Batman estimated that there was maybe eight minutes left.
Mr Terrific cleared the roof and was down. "We go? Or do we wait for Wildcat and Sandman?"
"We need to move now," replied the Masked Vigilante from Gotham City as he tried the door handle. It didn't open.
"Damn!" Mr Terrific snarled.
Batman reached to his utility belt and pulled out a small acetylene torch.
"Don't have much time," he said as he set the torch at its highest level. "I'll cut the lock as quick as I can."
The intense, white-hot flame cut through the metal lock mechanism like a hot knife through butter.
Mr Terrific reached out to the lock, quickly drawing his bare hand back. "Hot," Batman observed, then turned half right, kicking his left heel back at it. The door lock fell away. Mr Terrific opened the door toward them and went through, with the Caped Crusader stepping in behind him. Mr Terrific shouted, "Everybody get back!"
Batman started down the center aisle as Mr Terrific took up the drag spot.
The Masked Manhunter reached the end of the car. He tried the door there and it opened effortlessly.
He stepped onto the platform, then jumped to the next car platform. The rail was a blur under him. He started to open the rear door of the car. The glass shattered, and Batman dodged left
and back, shouting to Mr Terrific, "Look out!"
The Caped Crusader looked to the right. Two trains were stopped at a siding track. The police were working it now, sidetracking other trains, clearing the rails. Batman looked above him through the break between the two car roofs. He saw a dark blur jump from one roof to the other, followed by a second blur.
Batman looked to Mr Terrific and pointed upwards as he mouthed the words "Wildcat and Sandman."
Mr Terrific nodded in acknowledgement as he listened to the clicking of wheels against the steel rails and the hiss of the slipstream.
"You ready? Make it two guns at least. The shots were too fast for aimed fire out of a conventional gun."
"Gotcha." Mr Terrific nodded.
Batman reached under the window frame. More shots. Shattered glass sprayed his costumed left arm. He twisted the door handle, swinging the door back and out toward him, then ducking beside it. More gunfire poured through the open doorway. The glass opposite them -- the front door of the last car -- disintegrated.
The Masked Manhunter reached to his utility belt once more and pulled out a smoke bomb pellet. He threw the pellet through the doorway, hoping it would blind the shooters.
He tossed in another smoke bomb pellet as he raced through the doorway, throwing himself down between two seats. Mr Terrific ran through as Batman looked up.
Two men were at the far end of the car, which was otherwise empty. They were coughing from the effects of the smoke that was released in the confined space of the rail car.
Gotham's Caped Crusader reached to the rear of his utility belt again and brought out a couple of Bat-A-Rangs. Even as bullets from the two shooters in the front of the car chewed up the seat backs that protected Batman and Mr Terrific, the Masked Vigilante hurled his makeshift weapons at the gunmen. The Bat-A-Rangs hit the armed men and they went down, their guns silent.
Batman stopped at the forward section of the car. There were two cars ahead -- the second, the lead car. The bomb would be there -- Batman could feel it.
The cowled hero didn't even bother to estimate how much time was left. If there was enough time and he and Mr Terrific had enough skill, the bombers would be stopped, the bomb itself defused. If there wasn't, counting seconds wouldn't help.
"Ready?" Batman asked his colleague.
"Ready, Batman." Mr Terrific kicked the door outward, jumping across between the two cars, framing himself beside the door. The Caped Crusader followed him.
Buildings shot past them. The train lurched crazily. The clicking of the wheels against the rails sounded louder now.
Batman reached for the door handle, twisting it and pushing the door open toward Mr Terrific. Batman waited for a moment.
Once more, the Masked Manhunter pulled out a smoke pellet from the utility belt and threw it as far as he could into the car. Batman shouted, "Get down everybody, below the seats." Then he dived under the muzzleflashes of the rifle, half rolling and coming up on his knees. A single gunman at the end of the car was firing an M-1 rifle. Passengers on both sides of Batman screamed in horror. The Caped Crusader heard Mr Terrific yell, "Batman, I'm hit!" Batman hurled a Bat-A-Rang at the gunman. The shooter was struck and went down after his back hit the door behind him. The door flew open, and the body slipped from sight.
Batman ran forward. Passengers shrank from him. The cowled hero shouted, "Terrific, can you walk?"
"Yes, but my tailor isn't going to be too pleased."
The Caped Crusader stopped at the open doorway.
He looked back. Mr Terrific was limping, his left thigh soaked with blood.
"Ready?" Batman asked. "This is the big one ... three of them ... the bomb .. the whole ball of wax."
"Let's do it," Mr Terrific said.
Batman dodged through the open doorway, jumping across the gap between the cars. They were almost in the heart of downtown Gateway City.
The end of the line was near -- the main commuter station in the heart of the financial district.
The irony of the thought struck Batman as he watched Mr Terrific hobble across, slowed by the leg wound.
"Like last time, Batman?"
"Yes, like last time ... only way," the Masked Manhunter said, looking up as a thought came to his mind.
Batman worked the door handle, letting the door fly open. "Get down!" he shouted as he readied another smoke pellet.
Gunfire seemed to pour through the open doorway as Mr Terrific peered inside. He saw the three gunmen firing at him. Batman threw himself into the car, flat onto the aisle. He tried to cram his body behind a seat back. A pretty black girl was huddled there, her eyes wide with fear. "Relax, citizen, we're the good guys," the Caped Crusader said.
He twisted around and hurled the smoke pellet at the shooters.
Gunfire ripped into the seat back above him, dimpling the metal backing. Glass in the windows near him shattered.
He lobbed another smoke pellet. The rail car was filling quickly with dense smoke. The passengers and the gunmen were coughing from the effects of the smoke in the confined space of the car.
Mr Terrific was still outside the door.
Batman sucked in his breath low to the floor. "Surrender, you villians! False-Face was lying. He always lies. The bomb's going off in a minute or so, maybe less --"
"You're a liar!"
"That toggle switch you've got to flick -- whatever it is -- that's a fake timer -- doesn't do anything!"
"Liar!" came another voice.
"You'll burn up, dead. Mass murderers and committing suicide at the same time. We can defuse the bomb, maybe. Give it up. We need to defuse the bomb."
The National Socialist Movement shall be victorious," another voice shouted, coughing. Batman gritted his teeth.
Batman started to get to his feet and shouted, "Now!"
The door behind the gunman crashed open as Wildcat and the Sandman burst in with blinding speed. The three bomb protectors were taken by total surprise. The sound of the commotion was deafening, as was the screaming.
Wildcat pushed the first man into the wall of the rail car and swung two quick jabs to the head to knock the man unconscious.
The Sandman took on the final two and merely used his famous anesthetic gas gun to render his victims immobile.
It was all over in a matter of seconds. The bad guys never knew what had hit them.
But Batman realized that the job wasn't over. The seconds were still ticking away faster than the clicking of the wheels on the steel rails.
Wildcat ripped opened the door of the engineer's compartment. The engineer was shot in the neck. The wound was sucking and pumping. "This guy's still alive."
"Get him out. I'll find the bomb," Mr Terrific gasped.
Wildcat nodded, pulling the man from his round metal stool, easing him to the seat opposite. Batman almost tripped over the body of one of the Nazis. He looked through the window. They were nearly into the downtown section of the city. At the speed they were going, they were on a direct collision course with the train station at the end of the line.
He looked on the floor of the control booth at the metal pedal with rubber treads. It was pressed hard against the floor. He reached down to try to release it. It was a deadman's switch and should work. He tried to pry it up with his fingers, but it wouldn't budge. "I don't know what they did to this," Batman shouted to his fellow crimefighters.
"Never mind that, I found the bomb," Mr Terrific shouted.
Batman left the jammed pedal alone, shouting across the car, "Citizens, we can't stop the train. We need an orderly evacuation to the next car. Then we can uncouple it --"
People were screaming and running, pushing past Mr Terrific and the trunk-sized piece of luggage with the bomb in it.
Batman yelled again, "Citizens! Citizens!"
The Sandman said in a sarcastic tone, "What's this 'citizen' crap?"
"Order, dammit!" Batman shouted. There was a scream, then silence. "Now get into the next car and stay there. We got a bomb to defuse!"
"I got the cowling off ... the timer --" Mr Terrific said in a calm voice.
Batman, Wildcat, and The Sandman moved forward, letting the passengers move around them. Batman dropped to his knees beside Mr Terrific. The timer showed about 90 seconds.
"We'll never --" Wildcat observed.
"Get into the wiring," Batman rasped, helping as Mr Terrific pried the rest of the cowling. It popped free.
Facing them was a sea of wires of almost every color.
"Oh, brother, this is like what they gave us in bomb school -- double blinds, blinds, false detonator triggers, the whole shot. It'll take a bomb-disposal team twenty years to figure this out! Here, this one --"And Mr Terrific clipped a wire with a pocket knife against his thumb. But the timer kept running. "That should've been it. Hell -- I --"
"Try another one -- we have nothing to lose," Sandman shouted.
"But which one? Jeez --"
Sandman reached past him. Mr Terrific stayed his hands. "Sandman, you'll blow us all up!"
Batman looked at the timer -- forty-one seconds.
"We'll die, anyway," Sandman replied.
"Wait --" Mr Terrific moved his hands over the wires, saying almost to himself, "If this creep was so damn tricky, maybe he did the ultimate, the obvious thing -- naw --"
"What?" Batman growled.
"Just turn off the switch for the damn timer. Only a joker, a crazy guy would do that."
Batman winced at the sound of the name of his arch-nemisis.
The Caped Crusader reached for the switch, his eyes locking with Mr Terrific's. "If it isn't, we're dead," Mr Terrific told him.
Batman shrugged, his right thumb over the switch. He flipped it down. The timer stopped -- three seconds.
Wildcat counted silently to himself after glancing at the timer. One second, two seconds --
Nothing happened.
Through his gas mask, The Sandman screamed like a woman. "Hey, we're alive!"
Mr Terrific looked up. The train station they were passing read Godfrey Avenue.
Mr Terrific pushed himself to his feet, having difficulty because of the gunshot wound to his leg. "The hell we are," he said. "Less than a mile and this train slams into the end of the line at the central train station!"
"I got the bomb," Sandman shouted.
Wildcat said nothing, lurching toward the body of the still-breathing driver. He grabbed the man's shoulders and hauled him up, blood spurting from his neck wound across Wildcat's gloved hands.
Mr Terrific's own right leg pained him as he started to move.
Wildcat bent his right shoulder into the man, picking him up, slinging him across his back.
Sandman followed behind, watching Mr Terrific limping. The suitcase with the bomb was under The Sandman's left arm, while his right hand supported it.
Batman shouted to Wildcat, "When we get across, I'm going to uncouple this thing and you find the brake for the next car back."
"Right!" came the reply.
Mr Terrific glanced through the shot-out window. They were passing the Wyoming Street station -- three or four blocks.
Mr Terrific was through the door, with Wildcat behind him. He threw the unconscious man into the arms of The Sandman, who'd set down the bomb.
Batman bent between the cars, looking at the tangle of wires and cables.
He took out a knife from his utility belt, flicking it open and hacking at the wires. Then he stopped, placing the knife between his teeth.
Wyoming Street was to his left. He knew he didn't have much time.
He reached down to the chains between the cars, popping them, then to the coupling bolt. The wires would break, he told himself.
He jerked at the coupling bolt -- it was stuck. He jerked again -- it moved a little.
He jerked again -- it was out. The first car lurched ahead, the cables breaking, sparks of electricity flying. The Masked Manhuter threw himself back, looking through the open doorway, climbing to his knees. Wildcat was half in the engineer's box. His right leg had vanished inside it.
Batman staggered as the train jumped and bucked under him. Passengers were screaming. The Caped Crusader fell to his face, his knife clattering to the floor. He looked behind him, ahead down the tracks.
The lead car was heading toward the downtown station. Nothing stood in its way from plowing into the building. The stop barrier at the end of the line was not designed to halt a train going at a high rate of speed.
Mr Terrific covered his ears. The train under him rocked and bumped, its passengers screaming. He turned around, taking his hands from his ears. The screams grew louder. There was a violent shudder.
Then the train stopped and he had the feeling of rising in the air.
Mr Terrific remembered to breathe.
There was more screaming, and he looked around.
He watched through the windows as the train car was rose into the air. Suddenly, the motion of being lifted stopped.
Passengers continued to scream, not knowing what was happening. Would they fall from the sky? Mr Terrific had no answer.
Wildcat watched in wonderment. Unlike most of the people in the train car, he had no fear. He was fairly certain of what -- or better yet -- who was responsible for this "uplifting" experience.
The Sandman watched in fascination as the out of control lead rail car headed toward the downtown train station. Even while he felt the car he was in rise into the air, he watched as the lead car also began to lift off the ground as if being picked up by an invisible hand.
Something -- or someone -- had stopped the potentially devastating event from happening! Something -- or someone -- with immense power.
It was only a matter moments until a voice reached the heads of Batman, Mr Terrific, Wildcat, and The Sandman. A deep, dark voice that sounded like it came from the grave.
"May I be of assistance my fellow Justice Society members?" the voice echoed in their heads.
"Spooky!" Wildcat exclaimed.
"The Spectre," Batman corrected.
***
Dr Mid-Nite interrupted his thoughts. "Batman?"
"Yes?"
"No chance, I suppose, well that False-Face plans to use the VX nerve gas one cansister at a time?"
Batman looked up at him. "He'll try to use one or two, then tell us what he wants."
"Will we be ready for him next time?" Mid-Nite asked.
The face of the Caped Crusader from Gotham City turned grim. "We better be ... For the sake of the world, we better be."
-- End of JSA: Atrocity --
Author's Note: I've enjoyed writing this story a great deal. I plan to write several more Justice Society of America stories, as well as solo stories starring individuals from the group.
By Bruce Wayne
DISCLAIMER: Most of the characters portrayed in this story are copyright by DC Comics, an AOL/Time/Warner company. They are used without permission for entertainment without profit
by the author.
An Elseworld's story: Stories, situation or events involving familiar characters in unfamiliar settings.
Chapter 20
Batman jumped from behind the controls. The downdraft of the twin rotor blades whipped up his cape as he ran toward the yellow-and-white chopper.
Hourman was dragging a slightly built, blond-haired man from behind the controls of the aircraft. Hourman's left arm was drenched in blood. His right was clamped around the man's throat.
"What the hell happened to you?" Batman shouted over the noise of the throbbing choppers, screams and police sirens in the background.
"This S.O.B. shot me." Hourman grabbed Flyboy by the throat, making him cough. "Now tell them what you told me," the Man of the Hour shouted to Mason, shaking him by the neck again.
"It won't do you any good. The bomb's on one of the subway trains. It left about twelve or fifteen minutes ago ... timer's set to go off when it hits the downtown section of the city."
Sandman pulled back his suit jacket sleeve, looking at his watch. "Hell!" he snarled.
"Won't do you any good," Flyboy said again. "Six guys on board -- they think it's goin' off with a timer switch they'll set when they hit the end of the line just past Maple Park. But it won't. It'll go off and take them with it!"
Batman growled, "Hold him, Hourman." And he was already running, trying to move his way through the crowd of curious onlookers blocking his way to the yard house. It was at the far end of the parking lot. Mr Terrific was running beside him.
"What the hell's going on?" Mr Terrific asked.
"Bomb ... set to blow up in your downtown ... in fifteen minutes or so ... six guys guarding it on a subway train. Come on!" He kept running, hearing Mr Terrific shouting something but not bothering really to listen. Batman had to get the number of that train.
Police cars were converging on the area as he reached the end of the parking lot. Batman scaled
a chest-high chainlink fence. A few moments, he reached the top of the steps and tried the switchhouse door. It was locked. Two men were inside, one on the phone, both looked frightened. Batman took a half step back, then forward, his left foot punching through the glass in the door. He reached his hand through the hole in the glass and twisted the knob, then threw the door open.
He stepped in, glass crunching under his black-booted feet. He grabbed the front of the shirt of the man on the telephone. "We're the good guys ... so help us out ... now!" Get on the radio to the train that left here about fifteen minutes ago ... stop them. There's a bomb on board laced with nerve gas set to go off in less than fifteen minutes ... right in the middle of downtown. Now move!"
The man dropped the receiver. A voice still came scratchily off the line. Batman replaced the swinging receiver on its cradle.
The man was at the radio set. "This is South switchyard ... calling train sixteen oh-one ... come back --"
There wasn't any answer for a moment.
"This is sixteen oh-one. What's up?"
"Some guys in funny costumes here claim they got a bomb on board your train ... set to blow up when you reach downtown. Bomb with nerve gas, they say --"
The voice came over the speaker, "Hey, Bob, what the hell you guys --"
The voice went dead -- static.
Batman grabbed the microphone in his left fist, ramming down the talk button. "Whoever it is on the train ... you six men ... you've been fooled by False-Face. He's killing you, too. The bomb's set to go off when you hit downtown. Your timer's a fake ... Flyboy told us ... come in -- come in --"
Nothing.
"A bomb with nerve gas ... you'll kill thousands, even yourselves."
Nothing.
"All those people," he said, staring at the other men in the room.
Batman looked at Mr Terrific.
The Caped Crusader closed his eyes, shaking his head to clear it, to think. He looked up at the man who had used the radio. "Bob, is that your name?"
"Yes, I'm Bob --"
"Right," Batman said. "Bob, call the police. Tell them what's happening. Tell them the JSA is going to stop the train even if we have to derail it. Not sure if a concussion like that would --"
"It would go off that way," Mr Terrific said soberly, all the usual bravado of his voice gone. "Remember, I'm an explosives expert. It'd go off sky-high."
"Then we won't derail it." Repeating the number, he said to Bob, "Sixteen oh-one -- right?"
"Right," Bob confirmed, sweating his face white. "I really believe you, hell! We just don't get guys dressed as you breaking in here everyday."
Batman turned to Mr Terrific. "We take one whirlybird, you, me, Hourman, Flyboy, Wildcat, and Sandman. We'll leave Dr Mid-Nite to explain it."
Sirens were loud now. Through the glass of the switch house blue lights appeared to be everywhere. "What about the police?" Mr Terrific asked.
"Do anything short of killing them if they get in our way. But we must get to the blue-and-white chopper. Come on." Batman started for the door.
With Mr Terrific beside him, he started to run. Gateway City police, unfamiliar with who Batman was, were racing toward them, shouting, "Police, hold it!"
The nearest police officer, a revolver in his right hand, started for him. Batman wheeled half right, his left foot snaking out in a double kick to the chest, hammering the man back against two more officers.
Someone shot at him. The slug ricocheted off pavement near his feet. Batman yelled at the officers, "There's a bomb on train sixteen oh-one that is laced with dangerous nerve gas ... take that yellow-and-white whirlybird up and follow us if you want to, but help us to stop it.!"
"Surrender!" a police officer yelled, edging toward them, gun drawn.
"The Chopper's right behind us," Mr Terrific said.
Batman nodded, his eyes never wavering from the crowd, "Dr Mid-Nite?"
"Right here, Batman," came Mid-Nite's voice from behind.
"Get Hourman, Flyboy ... better have Sandman and Wildcat, too. Hourman looked like he was losing blood fast. Get them on the blue-and-white helicopter and cover us while we get airborne. Then straighten this out with the police. You may have to call Wonder Woman in Washington. The train is sixteen oh-one. We're going after it ... try to stop the bombers and disarm the weapon."
"But how --"
"Let you know when I figure it out myself," Batman snapped. The Caped Crusader ticked off thirty seconds in his head.
"All right, they're aboard. I'm staying behind," Dr Mid-Nite shouted.
While looking at the crowd and the officers, Batman edged toward the chopper. Mr Terrific was climbing aboard, visible out of his left peripheral vision.
Then Batman jumped aboard. He sat at the controls and revved the engine and started to lift off. The police were closing in. Dr Mid-Nite would handle the situation in his usual congenial, diplomatic style.
"Let's get going!" Mr Terrific shouted over the whir of the rotors.
Batman just looked at him, nodding.
"What the hell are we doing?" Hourman asked.
The Caped Crusader did not glance over at him. He was busy banking the chopper steeply as he picked up the highway beneath him. On the subway tracks running alongside, he saw the train.
"Well?" Hourman's voice demanded.
"Mr Terrific and I have to get on that train, get inside --" Batman craned his neck to look at Billy Mason. "Okay, Flyboy, I hear you're one of the best helicopter pilots there is. Well, now's the time to do your stuff. You have to get this thing steady enough that we can climb down, then fly it up and away and follow us."
"Like hell!" Flyboy snarled.
"If you don't do exactly as I say, we'll die when that weapon blows, so Hourman here won't have anything to lose. Even with one arm out of commission he'll rip you apart, dismember you, gouge your eyes out, the whole nine yards, Flyboy. And in case Hourman gets tired, Wildcat there'll help him."
"Right on," Wildcat grunted.
Batman asked, "So, you going to cooperate or get your head twisted off?"
He glanced back at Billy, whose eyes gave the answer.
"Good boy, Flyboy. Maybe you'll get fifty or sixty consecutive life sentences for helping us out, who knows."
"Who are you guys?" Flyboy pleaded.
Batman and rest of the crimefighters ignored the question. The Caped Crusader started dropping his altitude, skimming over the traffic now over the lanes of the highway, trying to read the number on the train as he passed it. The lead car's number panel showed something besides sixteen oh-one. He gunned the aircraft, climbing, heading over the tracks again.
"Remember, Flyboy," Batman shouted, seeing the next train ahead of them. "Do exactly as I say. Then when I'm gone, do what Hourman there says."
"Can I rip him apart now, Batman, huh?" Hourman asked.
"Not yet," Batman replied, bringing the chopper down again over the in-bound lanes of the highway. He skimmed the traffic trying to see the lead car.
Then Mr Terrific spoke. "That's it, Batman! Sixteen oh-one."
"Great," Batman rasped. "Get Flyboy down here." To his right he saw Billy Mason and Sandman changing places. "Okay, I'm giving you the controls at the count of three. Fly well, Mason, for your sake." The chopper climbed and dropped as Flyboy took over. "Getting the feel of it?" the Caped Crusader asked.
"Right," Mason said, looking at him a moment, saying nothing else.
"Get us over the train, wherever you can. Watch for the power cables that run near the tracks."
"I've done tougher than this," Flyboy snarled.
Batman unbuckled his seat restraint, turning to Mason standing behind him. He moved toward the pilot door, looking at Flyboy. "I'm ready when you are." Gotham's avenger ticked off the numbers in his head. He estimated they had about ten minutes left.
"That thing's going pretty darn fast," Mr Terrific shouted over the slipstream. Both the pilot's side door and the passenger door were open slightly, and the wind whistled loudly through the cockpit.
The train was approaching a station. The helicopter was closing in now. The red warning lights on the track flashed to stop the train, but it was neither stopping nor slowing.
"They're panicking, trying to get to as close to downtown as fast as they can!" Batman shouted.
The helicopter dropped, skimming perhaps twenty feet over the roof of the train. Flyboy shouted, "I'm setting over the lead car, then matching my speed so I can drop you on the roof of the last car. Best I can do!"
The Masked Manhunter of Gotham City looked at him through his cowl, nodding.
The helicopter was going in. The lead car was beneath them now. Batman stepped out onto the runner, holding on to the doorframe. The door fought him as the slipstream tried to push it closed. He could see Mr Terrific's lower legs and feet -- the door for the passenger ingress blocked the rest of his green-clad body.
Billy Mason expertly avoided the high tension lines flanking them as he slowed the helicopter to match the speed of the train. Batman looked down at the traffic. The rushing wind distorted his features and whipped at his cape.
The helicopter was settling, six feet over the rear car now, as Hourman shouted, "He says do it now!"
Batman jumped, seeing a blur as Mr Terrific jumped, too. The Caped Crusader's feet impacted against the curved roof of the car. He spread-eagled himself with his hands splayed across the roof.
Batman twisted around. Mr Terrific was slightly behind and beside him.
The World's Greatest Detective shouted at Mr Terrific. "Remember, six of them, probably only with handguns. But they're desperate. If they believed me, they already know they're dead, and if they didn't --"
Batman heard two loud thumps behind him on the roof. Wildcat and Sandman had landed to assist.
"Hey, Batman, just like in the old days -- you and me fighting side by side for once, huh?"
The Masked Manhunter's lip twitched as he started to crawl toward the rest of the car.
He looked skyward, but the helicopter was out of sight. His fingers reached for the edge of the roof, pulling him toward it. There was no way to guard against the six bombers waiting for him there, so he swung his left leg down. When his leg didn't get shot off, Batman figured it was okay, and he swung the rest of his body down and in. His face was just above the train car's roof as he glanced forward. The purplish gray of the skyline for Gateway City's downtown area was ahead of him.
The Caped Crusader dropped to the platform and shoved his back against the wall flanking the door leading into the car.
He could see Mr Terrific's feet now. Batman estimated that there was maybe eight minutes left.
Mr Terrific cleared the roof and was down. "We go? Or do we wait for Wildcat and Sandman?"
"We need to move now," replied the Masked Vigilante from Gotham City as he tried the door handle. It didn't open.
"Damn!" Mr Terrific snarled.
Batman reached to his utility belt and pulled out a small acetylene torch.
"Don't have much time," he said as he set the torch at its highest level. "I'll cut the lock as quick as I can."
The intense, white-hot flame cut through the metal lock mechanism like a hot knife through butter.
Mr Terrific reached out to the lock, quickly drawing his bare hand back. "Hot," Batman observed, then turned half right, kicking his left heel back at it. The door lock fell away. Mr Terrific opened the door toward them and went through, with the Caped Crusader stepping in behind him. Mr Terrific shouted, "Everybody get back!"
Batman started down the center aisle as Mr Terrific took up the drag spot.
The Masked Manhunter reached the end of the car. He tried the door there and it opened effortlessly.
He stepped onto the platform, then jumped to the next car platform. The rail was a blur under him. He started to open the rear door of the car. The glass shattered, and Batman dodged left
and back, shouting to Mr Terrific, "Look out!"
The Caped Crusader looked to the right. Two trains were stopped at a siding track. The police were working it now, sidetracking other trains, clearing the rails. Batman looked above him through the break between the two car roofs. He saw a dark blur jump from one roof to the other, followed by a second blur.
Batman looked to Mr Terrific and pointed upwards as he mouthed the words "Wildcat and Sandman."
Mr Terrific nodded in acknowledgement as he listened to the clicking of wheels against the steel rails and the hiss of the slipstream.
"You ready? Make it two guns at least. The shots were too fast for aimed fire out of a conventional gun."
"Gotcha." Mr Terrific nodded.
Batman reached under the window frame. More shots. Shattered glass sprayed his costumed left arm. He twisted the door handle, swinging the door back and out toward him, then ducking beside it. More gunfire poured through the open doorway. The glass opposite them -- the front door of the last car -- disintegrated.
The Masked Manhunter reached to his utility belt once more and pulled out a smoke bomb pellet. He threw the pellet through the doorway, hoping it would blind the shooters.
He tossed in another smoke bomb pellet as he raced through the doorway, throwing himself down between two seats. Mr Terrific ran through as Batman looked up.
Two men were at the far end of the car, which was otherwise empty. They were coughing from the effects of the smoke that was released in the confined space of the rail car.
Gotham's Caped Crusader reached to the rear of his utility belt again and brought out a couple of Bat-A-Rangs. Even as bullets from the two shooters in the front of the car chewed up the seat backs that protected Batman and Mr Terrific, the Masked Vigilante hurled his makeshift weapons at the gunmen. The Bat-A-Rangs hit the armed men and they went down, their guns silent.
Batman stopped at the forward section of the car. There were two cars ahead -- the second, the lead car. The bomb would be there -- Batman could feel it.
The cowled hero didn't even bother to estimate how much time was left. If there was enough time and he and Mr Terrific had enough skill, the bombers would be stopped, the bomb itself defused. If there wasn't, counting seconds wouldn't help.
"Ready?" Batman asked his colleague.
"Ready, Batman." Mr Terrific kicked the door outward, jumping across between the two cars, framing himself beside the door. The Caped Crusader followed him.
Buildings shot past them. The train lurched crazily. The clicking of the wheels against the rails sounded louder now.
Batman reached for the door handle, twisting it and pushing the door open toward Mr Terrific. Batman waited for a moment.
Once more, the Masked Manhunter pulled out a smoke pellet from the utility belt and threw it as far as he could into the car. Batman shouted, "Get down everybody, below the seats." Then he dived under the muzzleflashes of the rifle, half rolling and coming up on his knees. A single gunman at the end of the car was firing an M-1 rifle. Passengers on both sides of Batman screamed in horror. The Caped Crusader heard Mr Terrific yell, "Batman, I'm hit!" Batman hurled a Bat-A-Rang at the gunman. The shooter was struck and went down after his back hit the door behind him. The door flew open, and the body slipped from sight.
Batman ran forward. Passengers shrank from him. The cowled hero shouted, "Terrific, can you walk?"
"Yes, but my tailor isn't going to be too pleased."
The Caped Crusader stopped at the open doorway.
He looked back. Mr Terrific was limping, his left thigh soaked with blood.
"Ready?" Batman asked. "This is the big one ... three of them ... the bomb .. the whole ball of wax."
"Let's do it," Mr Terrific said.
Batman dodged through the open doorway, jumping across the gap between the cars. They were almost in the heart of downtown Gateway City.
The end of the line was near -- the main commuter station in the heart of the financial district.
The irony of the thought struck Batman as he watched Mr Terrific hobble across, slowed by the leg wound.
"Like last time, Batman?"
"Yes, like last time ... only way," the Masked Manhunter said, looking up as a thought came to his mind.
Batman worked the door handle, letting the door fly open. "Get down!" he shouted as he readied another smoke pellet.
Gunfire seemed to pour through the open doorway as Mr Terrific peered inside. He saw the three gunmen firing at him. Batman threw himself into the car, flat onto the aisle. He tried to cram his body behind a seat back. A pretty black girl was huddled there, her eyes wide with fear. "Relax, citizen, we're the good guys," the Caped Crusader said.
He twisted around and hurled the smoke pellet at the shooters.
Gunfire ripped into the seat back above him, dimpling the metal backing. Glass in the windows near him shattered.
He lobbed another smoke pellet. The rail car was filling quickly with dense smoke. The passengers and the gunmen were coughing from the effects of the smoke in the confined space of the car.
Mr Terrific was still outside the door.
Batman sucked in his breath low to the floor. "Surrender, you villians! False-Face was lying. He always lies. The bomb's going off in a minute or so, maybe less --"
"You're a liar!"
"That toggle switch you've got to flick -- whatever it is -- that's a fake timer -- doesn't do anything!"
"Liar!" came another voice.
"You'll burn up, dead. Mass murderers and committing suicide at the same time. We can defuse the bomb, maybe. Give it up. We need to defuse the bomb."
The National Socialist Movement shall be victorious," another voice shouted, coughing. Batman gritted his teeth.
Batman started to get to his feet and shouted, "Now!"
The door behind the gunman crashed open as Wildcat and the Sandman burst in with blinding speed. The three bomb protectors were taken by total surprise. The sound of the commotion was deafening, as was the screaming.
Wildcat pushed the first man into the wall of the rail car and swung two quick jabs to the head to knock the man unconscious.
The Sandman took on the final two and merely used his famous anesthetic gas gun to render his victims immobile.
It was all over in a matter of seconds. The bad guys never knew what had hit them.
But Batman realized that the job wasn't over. The seconds were still ticking away faster than the clicking of the wheels on the steel rails.
Wildcat ripped opened the door of the engineer's compartment. The engineer was shot in the neck. The wound was sucking and pumping. "This guy's still alive."
"Get him out. I'll find the bomb," Mr Terrific gasped.
Wildcat nodded, pulling the man from his round metal stool, easing him to the seat opposite. Batman almost tripped over the body of one of the Nazis. He looked through the window. They were nearly into the downtown section of the city. At the speed they were going, they were on a direct collision course with the train station at the end of the line.
He looked on the floor of the control booth at the metal pedal with rubber treads. It was pressed hard against the floor. He reached down to try to release it. It was a deadman's switch and should work. He tried to pry it up with his fingers, but it wouldn't budge. "I don't know what they did to this," Batman shouted to his fellow crimefighters.
"Never mind that, I found the bomb," Mr Terrific shouted.
Batman left the jammed pedal alone, shouting across the car, "Citizens, we can't stop the train. We need an orderly evacuation to the next car. Then we can uncouple it --"
People were screaming and running, pushing past Mr Terrific and the trunk-sized piece of luggage with the bomb in it.
Batman yelled again, "Citizens! Citizens!"
The Sandman said in a sarcastic tone, "What's this 'citizen' crap?"
"Order, dammit!" Batman shouted. There was a scream, then silence. "Now get into the next car and stay there. We got a bomb to defuse!"
"I got the cowling off ... the timer --" Mr Terrific said in a calm voice.
Batman, Wildcat, and The Sandman moved forward, letting the passengers move around them. Batman dropped to his knees beside Mr Terrific. The timer showed about 90 seconds.
"We'll never --" Wildcat observed.
"Get into the wiring," Batman rasped, helping as Mr Terrific pried the rest of the cowling. It popped free.
Facing them was a sea of wires of almost every color.
"Oh, brother, this is like what they gave us in bomb school -- double blinds, blinds, false detonator triggers, the whole shot. It'll take a bomb-disposal team twenty years to figure this out! Here, this one --"And Mr Terrific clipped a wire with a pocket knife against his thumb. But the timer kept running. "That should've been it. Hell -- I --"
"Try another one -- we have nothing to lose," Sandman shouted.
"But which one? Jeez --"
Sandman reached past him. Mr Terrific stayed his hands. "Sandman, you'll blow us all up!"
Batman looked at the timer -- forty-one seconds.
"We'll die, anyway," Sandman replied.
"Wait --" Mr Terrific moved his hands over the wires, saying almost to himself, "If this creep was so damn tricky, maybe he did the ultimate, the obvious thing -- naw --"
"What?" Batman growled.
"Just turn off the switch for the damn timer. Only a joker, a crazy guy would do that."
Batman winced at the sound of the name of his arch-nemisis.
The Caped Crusader reached for the switch, his eyes locking with Mr Terrific's. "If it isn't, we're dead," Mr Terrific told him.
Batman shrugged, his right thumb over the switch. He flipped it down. The timer stopped -- three seconds.
Wildcat counted silently to himself after glancing at the timer. One second, two seconds --
Nothing happened.
Through his gas mask, The Sandman screamed like a woman. "Hey, we're alive!"
Mr Terrific looked up. The train station they were passing read Godfrey Avenue.
Mr Terrific pushed himself to his feet, having difficulty because of the gunshot wound to his leg. "The hell we are," he said. "Less than a mile and this train slams into the end of the line at the central train station!"
"I got the bomb," Sandman shouted.
Wildcat said nothing, lurching toward the body of the still-breathing driver. He grabbed the man's shoulders and hauled him up, blood spurting from his neck wound across Wildcat's gloved hands.
Mr Terrific's own right leg pained him as he started to move.
Wildcat bent his right shoulder into the man, picking him up, slinging him across his back.
Sandman followed behind, watching Mr Terrific limping. The suitcase with the bomb was under The Sandman's left arm, while his right hand supported it.
Batman shouted to Wildcat, "When we get across, I'm going to uncouple this thing and you find the brake for the next car back."
"Right!" came the reply.
Mr Terrific glanced through the shot-out window. They were passing the Wyoming Street station -- three or four blocks.
Mr Terrific was through the door, with Wildcat behind him. He threw the unconscious man into the arms of The Sandman, who'd set down the bomb.
Batman bent between the cars, looking at the tangle of wires and cables.
He took out a knife from his utility belt, flicking it open and hacking at the wires. Then he stopped, placing the knife between his teeth.
Wyoming Street was to his left. He knew he didn't have much time.
He reached down to the chains between the cars, popping them, then to the coupling bolt. The wires would break, he told himself.
He jerked at the coupling bolt -- it was stuck. He jerked again -- it moved a little.
He jerked again -- it was out. The first car lurched ahead, the cables breaking, sparks of electricity flying. The Masked Manhuter threw himself back, looking through the open doorway, climbing to his knees. Wildcat was half in the engineer's box. His right leg had vanished inside it.
Batman staggered as the train jumped and bucked under him. Passengers were screaming. The Caped Crusader fell to his face, his knife clattering to the floor. He looked behind him, ahead down the tracks.
The lead car was heading toward the downtown station. Nothing stood in its way from plowing into the building. The stop barrier at the end of the line was not designed to halt a train going at a high rate of speed.
Mr Terrific covered his ears. The train under him rocked and bumped, its passengers screaming. He turned around, taking his hands from his ears. The screams grew louder. There was a violent shudder.
Then the train stopped and he had the feeling of rising in the air.
Mr Terrific remembered to breathe.
There was more screaming, and he looked around.
He watched through the windows as the train car was rose into the air. Suddenly, the motion of being lifted stopped.
Passengers continued to scream, not knowing what was happening. Would they fall from the sky? Mr Terrific had no answer.
Wildcat watched in wonderment. Unlike most of the people in the train car, he had no fear. He was fairly certain of what -- or better yet -- who was responsible for this "uplifting" experience.
The Sandman watched in fascination as the out of control lead rail car headed toward the downtown train station. Even while he felt the car he was in rise into the air, he watched as the lead car also began to lift off the ground as if being picked up by an invisible hand.
Something -- or someone -- had stopped the potentially devastating event from happening! Something -- or someone -- with immense power.
It was only a matter moments until a voice reached the heads of Batman, Mr Terrific, Wildcat, and The Sandman. A deep, dark voice that sounded like it came from the grave.
"May I be of assistance my fellow Justice Society members?" the voice echoed in their heads.
"Spooky!" Wildcat exclaimed.
"The Spectre," Batman corrected.
***
Dr Mid-Nite interrupted his thoughts. "Batman?"
"Yes?"
"No chance, I suppose, well that False-Face plans to use the VX nerve gas one cansister at a time?"
Batman looked up at him. "He'll try to use one or two, then tell us what he wants."
"Will we be ready for him next time?" Mid-Nite asked.
The face of the Caped Crusader from Gotham City turned grim. "We better be ... For the sake of the world, we better be."
-- End of JSA: Atrocity --
Author's Note: I've enjoyed writing this story a great deal. I plan to write several more Justice Society of America stories, as well as solo stories starring individuals from the group.