The Evil Long Forgotten

Chapter 15

By Christopher W. Blaine

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DISCLAIMER: All of the characters and situations contained in this story are ©2004 by DC Comics Inc. and are used without permission for non-profit, fan related entertainment purposes only. This original work of fiction is ©2004 by Christopher W. Blaine and may not be reproduced in any manner, in part or as a whole, without the express permission of the author.

Even the most hardened of the terrorists could not help but be impressed at the display of stamina and strength of Troia as she used the shovel from a small bulldozer to clear away the soil. One scientist, conscripted into the psuedo army of terrorists, monitored the radiation levels in the area. As more dirt was tossed aside, the scientist shook his head. "These readings don't make sense," he said, slapping his detector.

Troia took a moment to wipe the sweat from her face with her arm before resuming her digging. They had taken Henry away, realizing that she had some sort of emotional attachment to him. He had protested and had even attempted to fight, but the terrorists were simply too numerous for him. He was now locked away with many of the other researchers.

Off to the side the bodies of the military guards and murdered scientists were laid out, a warning sign to her that there was a heavy price to pay for any insubordination. She scanned the rooftops as she could and saw no way to exploit any weaknesses in the defenses the terrorists had erected. Their leader was smart, very smart she determined. Super-villain kind of smart she was sure.

Most of the black-garbed terrorists were hired thugs, that much was obvious. They were well trained and deadly, but thugs nonetheless. Their leader was different and she knew he was the real danger. The others were tools, he was the craftsman. And he was deadly familiar. She was tearing herself apart mentally trying to remember where she had seen him before, but it was not doing any good. She had reviewed so many files on criminals worldwide in her years of service as a super-hero.

It did not help matters any that she was worried about Henry. Their lovemaking had strengthened the emotional bond between them. Never had a man so fulfilled her! He had known what to do and when and after so many years of failed relationships and broken hearts, she really felt as if she were on the verge of starting something special. It wasn't like she wanted to sleep around, but she had need to feel like a loved woman once again.

Now the mood was ruined and she found herself in the middle of situation that was straight out of a bad comic book, or worse she thought, awful internet fan fiction. Too many times she had found herself the subject of amateurish writings that either made her into a bisexual nymphomaniacal tart or the ultimate mother hen, holding the hands of the male members of the Teen Titans and telling them everything was going to be fine.

"Well, everything isn't fine," she murmured as her shovel struck solid concrete. The terrorists heard the sound of metal against rock and ordered her to move away. She jumped out of the hole and landed on the ground, putting her hands on her hips. The scientist with the radiation meter stepped forward and began shaking his head.

"These readings are all wrong," he said as he adjusted the digital display. Troia noted that he was using a LexCorp model detector, a top-of-the-line model that the Titans also used. He looked over at a female terrorist who asked him in accented English what the problem was. "With all of the dirt removed I'm getting a reading I shouldn't be," he explained. "That bunker has Kryptonite in it!" he said, pointing down at the exposed concrete.

The terrorist shrugged and shoved the scientist towards one of her compatriots who escorted him away. Troia snorted. "So that is what this is about? Kryptonite? Have you ever considered all of Superman's friends?"

"Shut up, whore," the woman said and Troia picked out her accent as being Arabic. In fact, many of the members of the group were of Middle Eastern descent, but there was none of the expected religious fervor that was normally associated with the stereotypical extremist. Troia instead saw a well-organized group of secular criminals.

That's when it clicked in her head where she had seen their leader before. He was a well-known political terrorist, a man who abdicated fascism and wanted to see religious states such as Israel and Saudi Arabia destroyed. The last time he had been seen was as a contract agent for Ra's Al Ghul in a failed attempt to assassinate the Pope when he was visiting Gotham City a year before. Nightwing, her teammate and close friend, had joined with the Batman in pursuing the terrorist.

It had been one of their few failures by not capturing him.

And it made a certain amount of sense that Al Ghul would be the puppet master in this marionette play. The seemingly immortal criminal mastermind had tried to destroy the Justice League once before and had only barely missed his target. His mechanisms had been enough to cause the League to briefly throw the Batman off of the team for a while, a major coup if there ever was one.

She knew there was no way she could let them get away with the Kryptonite, but Superman would never forgive her if she allowed innocents to get killed in an attempt to prevent harm from coming to him. She also did not want to put Henry in any particular danger either.

The leader, a man she now knew was known as the Anarchist, an ironic title considering the order by which he ran his organization, came walking out of one of the estate buildings and came to stand at the edge of the hole. "Get it open immediately," he snapped and instead of pushing Troia back into service, several of the terrorists hopped into the hole and began to dig with military entrenching tools.

The Anarchist turned to Troia. "You saved us hours of work, which I am thankful for. If you do not interfere with the rest of this operation, you have my word that nobody will be harmed." He then chuckled. "Including your lover."

Troia grit her teeth and clenched her hand into a fist. It was bad enough that she had allowed herself to be made into a pack mule for a bunch of killers, but the fact that her sexual encounters were now the subject of casual conversation throughout the captured estate was more than enough to get her anger rising. "When can I see him?" she asked.

The terrorist leader shrugged. "When I have the time to give the order to bring him to you, perhaps. Of course, if you have an itch that needs scratched…" he let the sentence fade away; the intent was clear enough.

Troia bit her bottom lip to keep from screaming. Why was it so hard for people to believe that super-heroes had needs just like them? "That will be great," she hissed before sitting down on the ground. Her costume smelled like sweat and dirt and she had a greasy sheen to her body. She wanted this all to be over with and she suddenly realized her own arrogance.

Too many times the life of being a hero became mundane and it was easy to become complacent. She actually was expecting to quickly solve the problem and save the day and then get back to her so-called life. Her gaze wandered over to the rows of dead bodies and it suddenly hit home that this was not a normal caper.

This was deadly serious and she had better get back in the right mindset or more people were going to die.

She quickly considered her options. She knew that Diana, Steven and Red Star were on their way, but then she wondered why they had not arrived already. Briefly she considered the possibility that Diana and Steven had hooked up and were right now enjoying champagne and strawberries in a warm bed.

No, not her sister she decided immediately. Wonder Woman could have any man she wanted at any time; she did not need to sacrifice duty for romantic engagements. Unlike Troia, she did not suffer from picking the wrong man at the wrong time so she did not need to take side trips.

They might be twins, but they were nowhere near alike. That bothered her; how far had she moved away from her Amazon heritage in the years since Dark Angel's spell had put her in the life of Donna Troy? She should have been raised right alongside Princess Diana, should have been in the running to become Wonder Woman. But she wasn't really an Amazon, was she? Did she have the warrior's spirit inside of her?

She had often sat and contemplated that very notion. She and Princess Diana were twins, exact in every detail except in personality. They had the same long legs, same raven-colored tresses, the same ever-buoyant breasts, yet Wonder Woman and not the former Wonder Girl was the object of attraction to millions of men around the world. If their difference was in attitude and mannerisms only, then what was it about the Amazonian Princess that made her so different?

If Wonder Woman were here, she was sure, in the same predicament, then the problem would have already been solved. She had the warrior's pride, the ability to switch from pacifist to fighter in an instant, while Troia wasted time contemplating what she should do. It was what had made her the unofficial den mother of the Titans because whenever anyone had a problem, they came to her because they thought she was a great thinker.

Thinking was not going to save the day, she knew that, and bellyaching about having to live in the shadow of her sister was not doing any good either. She understood she had issues; one second she was trying to be as different from her sister as she could, the next she was whining why they were not more alike. Now was not the time for psychotherapy.

She stood up and brushed her costume off. "How did you know about this?" she asked, trying to gain information.

The Anarchist looked over and his female companion whispered into his ear. He held up a hand to cut her off. "I didn't; I only follow orders," he said. "But it is safe to assume that my employer followed the same route that you and your lover did. The agent of the Jewish state uncovered the needed key that all of needed."

"I still don't understand why a Nazi scientist needed Kryptonite or how he even got it," she said, taking a single step closer.

The terrorist leader saw the movement and waved her over. It bothered her that he did not fear her or her powers. The simple fact was he had more power over her then she could ever have over him. "They received it from the Japanese, as I understand it, who in turn got it from a meteorite. Other than that, I am ignorant of such things, but my employer will certainly know how to use it to our advantage."

"Killing Superman," she accused.

He giggled. "The Seraph was only the first of your kind that will be brought down. The Jew represented the Zionist state, a government that preaches tolerance but then uses religion as an excuse to subjugate others."

"And you of course consider subjugation to be a bad thing," she remarked as she watched the men in the hole dig. They had uncovered was had to be a door.

"Not at all; I just think that using something like God, Allah or Buddha is ignorant. The strong must rule the weak," he said his accent becoming heavy as he stepped onto his soapbox. "Those who hide their motivations behind the blanket of religion are cowards and therefore weak. Those like me who stand up and take the lead based upon their superiority are only defining their greatness. Superman is a messianic figure, coming down from the clouds and spreading his message of peace. How can there be peace when the nobility of Homo sapiens are forced to live in a world where their more primate-like brethren are granted equal status?"

For a moment, she was reminded of Henry, but she understood that to her more liberal thinking, all conservative rhetoric sounded the same. "And what then? What happened to your perfect world after you take power? How long before someone more superior comes along?"

"You misunderstand, Troia," he said with an evil glare, "I live only to serve in my capacity. The truly superior understand that some are tacticians and some are soldiers. I am a soldier in the service of the greatest tactician of all. Through him a new world order will truly come about."

"You think Kryptonite is going to do that? Superman is a great man, but he is not the root of the super-hero community," she offered as more dirt was removed away from the doorway.

A surprised look came over his face. "I am shocked; especially considering that you Amazons are supposed to be one of the more superior races…Superman is the anchor. He keeps all of you on the straight and narrow, prevents you from giving in to your baser desires. If he wasn't around then all of your would be like the Batman or worse, Guy Gardner."

"Things would never get that bad," she answered and decided that she was getting nowhere with her current line of questioning. At least she had something to go on once this was over. If the Japanese had Kryptonite they could give away in the 1940's, then maybe they had some more somewhere else.

A few minutes later, a door was revealed in the pit and the workmen began to chatter excitedly in Arabic. The Anarchist said something to them and they calmed down. He was about to say something to Troia when someone flung open a window and yelled something so quickly that Troia could not tell what language it was in.

"It looks like our time schedule just got accelerated," the Anarchist said before issuing orders to his people. "Oh, and bring out her lover, he will prove most useful," he said.

A few minutes later, two guards pushed a shirtless Henry out into the courtyard. He looked at her and then the hole, a strange expression on his face. "Do not worry about the radiation," the Anarchist said out loud. "It is within safe limits now." He did not bother to explain that most of the radiation had been absorbed into the soil that Troia had removed over the decades and was now several meters away.

Henry was brought before the Anarchist and the terrorist sighed. "It seems that we have two fast approaching flying figures. I can only assume one of them is your sister," he said to Troia. "You will stop her from coming here along with her companion or," he said drawing his pistol and putting it to Henry's head, "I will kill your lover."