Chapter 9: And So It Begins

Kyle Weston heard the door to his lab swing open but he did not look up from his microscope. He knew what day it was and therefore, he felt he had a pretty good guess as to the identity of the person entering and why.

"Dr. Weston, I believe you have something for me," said Lex Luthor in a deceptively calm voice.

Weston turned around slowly.

If he is going to kill me, at least he'll do it quickly.

"Yes and no," Weston answered. "I have a serum that gives the recipient about five hours worth of power. I can't seem to generate a full-time serum."

"What happens after five hours?" Luthor asked.

"The recipient goes into cardiac arrest and dies," Weston answered honestly.

Luthor looked at Weston carefully, clearly looking for signs of deceit. However, Luthor had to admit, Weston looked like he had not slept or eaten in a very long time. And the mouse cages were all empty. There was no doubt that Weston was scared.

"All right," Luthor said. "We will use what you have at the moment. At the end of the week, I want you in my office with your updated notes. We will see if there is another project for you."

"But, I want to…." Weston began.

Luthor cut him off. "I don't care what you want. If I review your notes and see there is a sign that this project could lead to a permanent serum, you will head the team to develop it. Otherwise, the project is scrapped. Now, I need the serum."

A mix of pride, fear and anger kept Weston from responding as Luthor handed him a small leather case designed to hold vials. Weston's survival instinct took over and quelled the internal conflict. He filled the case and obediently handed it back to Luthor.

"Now, I need to find our Central City friends," Luthor said darkly.

"But," was all Weston could manage before Luthor cut him off violently.

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Bruce Wayne's cell phone rang. Bruce, who was alone in his office at Wayne Enterprises pulled it out of his pocket and when he saw the number, frowned slightly.

"Hello. Bruce Wayne speaking."

"Mr. Wayne? This is Clark Kent at The Daily Planet."

"Clark? Daily Planet? All right then, hello."

Okay, Boy Scout, what's going on, he thought darkly.

"I was wondering if you have a moment for a couple of questions."

"Probably," Bruce responded lightly. "But I have to know. Where did you get this number?"

Clark paused. Bruce imagined he was adjusting his glasses. "Ah, I probably shouldn't divulge my source."

"That says it all. Give Lois Lane a swat on the wrist from me. She shouldn't have it to distribute. The Daily Planet is a fine publication, but you need to go through the public relations department like everyone else."

The hint was there. Why call on an unsecured cell phone when we both have communicators?

"Ah, well," Clark began, stumbling verbally.

"Doesn't matter. I am sure you have your reasons," Bruce said quickly. "What do you need?"

"I wanted to talk to you about a biochemist named Kyle Weston."

"Name doesn't ring a bell. He doesn't work for me, does he?" The tone was perfectly vague and bored. However, his mind began whirling.

"I thought he did. I may have bad information. Then you didn't know, sir, that his body was found in the Metropolis River about three hours ago? I am doing a story on his murder."

It was at that moment that Bruce knew the reason behind the call. Clark needed the information he knew as a League member to somehow get on the record. Bruce decided to play along.

"No. That is awful. How terrible. Does he have a family? Hold on, I want to make sure he didn't work for me," Bruce said with sympathy in his voice and rage in his heart. Taking his feet off the desk and turning to his computer, Bruce hit the space bar on the keyboard to activate the screen. A few clicks for show and he accessed the information he "needed."

"Let's see," Bruce said, wondering momentarily why he was making such a show of the search when his office was empty. "Ah no. He didn't work here. Oh, but we did try to recruit him from his university in California. I'll bet there is a wire photo of the two of us at a fundraiser at the school or something."

"That must be it. I apologize for wasting your time. So, you don't know anything about where he was working?"

"Oh, let's see. Clark, you know, I hate to give a rumor to a journalist of such a high caliber as yourself, but I have a little notation here that he went to work for Lex Luthor. Not sure how good the tip is, but I am sure you could quickly run it down. Some form of a chat with Luthor might not be uncalled for."

Bruce packed the last sentence with as many hints as he could while keeping the tone light and airy. Clark paused, clearly taking it all in.

"Thank you, Mr. Wayne. I will follow-up."

Only Bruce would have heard the anger in Clark's voice. Bruce understood. Fair or not, true or not, Clark felt that Luthor was his responsibility. There was a lot of that going around recently. Flash felt responsible for the Central City villains, Diana felt responsible for what her DNA might do to people and now Kent felt responsible for Luthor.

And you feel responsible for everything, said his inner voice in a teasing tone.

Both Bruce and Clark pleasantly said good-bye to one another and hung up the phone. As soon as the phone returned to its cradle, Bruce looked up to make sure his office door was closed before he indulged in a long string of swear words in reaction to the newest development.

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Three hours later, Batman's communicator beeped. Fortunately, he had left Wayne Enterprises and was just pulling into the Manor's garage.

"Batman here," he said quickly.

"Bats, Mirror Master just flew past me. He is only a few feet off the ground, but yeah, flying," Flash said.

"You know what to do. I will be there in a few minutes. Leave your communicator on, it'll be easier to track you."

"Are you going to call Wonder Woman?"

"Yes. You ought to be too busy to do that," he said in a mildly threatening voice as he got out of the car and quickly made his way to the Batcave. He waved Alfred a quick hello on his way. Alfred, who was quite used to such behavior, simply nodded and went back to the study.

He didn't call Wonder Woman until he was in the Batsuit and ready to transport to the Watchtower for Flash's location. It seemed indirect, but it was the fastest way to travel to Central City.

"Diana," he said after activating his communicator.

"Diana here," responded a sleepy voice. Batman felt a twinge of regret. She had been sent off-planet for a mission almost immediately following the meeting of the Founders. If the reports he had heard were correct, she had only been back a few hours. And if jet lag when traveling on Earth was bad, that was nothing to traveling between planets.

"Rise and shine, Princess," he said sternly. "We have fliers in Central City. We leave by transport in five minutes."

There was a small groan and a second of silence.

"Ten minutes," she said, more an order than a request.

"Five. Flash needs backup."

There was a sigh and Batman heard some movement that suggested she was sitting up.

"Five," she repeated, her tone serious. "But if Flash isn't in life-threatening peril, you will be."

Batman smirked.

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They transported in a few blocks from where Flash was. It was safer that way. At the speed Flash could move, coming in too close could mean getting in his path and no one was sure what would happen then.

Diana had smiled at the Dark Knight when they met in the transporter room but her eyes were clearly tired and they did not bother to exchange words. But it was a comfortable silence. After this was all over, he knew they would need some time together just as a couple, but it would, and more importantly, could wait.

When he had Diana stand back-to-back, she nodded and understood the reasoning instantly. Batman hated transporting. He wasn't afraid of it – he understood the science perfectly. What he didn't like was being dropped into the middle of a location without knowing exactly what the situation was. Some lucky idiot with a gun could not only end a mission, but a Justice League member's life, simply by being at the right place at the right time.

It was quiet. They were standing in an empty alley, lined with trash dumpsters on each side.

Diana hit her communicator. "Flash, we are here," she started to look around for a street sign. "In an alley north of 15th street. Where are you?"

"Right here, gorgeous," Flash said as he came to a halt in front of them. He handed a small package to Batman, who tucked it into his belt.

"There are just the three of them," Flash reported. "All of them have the blocker in them, but here's the weird thing. They can all fly, but only Captain Cold seems to have Wondy strength. Mirror Master has super speed and I haven't figured out what Trickster has."

Batman grimaced. "I was afraid there might be a mutation."

Flash glared at him. "Okay, seriously, I was in all the meetings and actually paying attention the whole time. Why didn't you say something about that?"

Batman just looked coldly at the Speeder.

"How fast is Mirror Master?" Diana asked.

Good mood returned, Flash winked. "Superman fast. So, nothing I can't handle."

"So, where are they?" Batman demanded.

"Give them a moment. They ought to pass this alley in just a few minutes. After I gave them the booster, they started chasing me. I was hoping to get them to the park where they wouldn't cause much trouble, but I had to double-back when Jeweler's Row distracted them. That's when you called me."

"They are robbing stores?" Diana was incredulous. "While we are just talking here?"

"No, those places were too small for them even before they had metapowers," Flash answered casually. "But I would like to get them to the park at least until their powers fade. We will have to keep them out of the museums, but I think we can do that."

Batman and Diana nodded in agreement. Diana stared into the distance, willing the Central City men to appear. She was anxious for a fight. She was tired of waiting for something to happen. It wasn't her way. Finally, she heard the sound of air moving at the end of the ally and she crouched a bit, ready to spring.

The colorful costumes came into view, briefly.

And with that, they engaged the enemy.

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Years ago, as part of a good will gesture to Superman – and an acknowledgement that glass falling from broken windows several stories in the air was dangerous – the Metropolis City Council had created a law that any new building or renovation in the city must include windows that could easily open from both the inside and outside. It hadn't stopped Superman from smashing through a window when an emergency arose, but he did make an effort to open the windows when he was able.

This was one of those times.

So, when Lex Luthor returned to his penthouse office from a meeting, the wind had blown the papers on his desk all over the room and Superman was hovering outside the window with his hands crossed over his chest in what Luthor usually thought of as the "I dare you to ignore me" pose.

He was tempted but did not. He knew from past experience that it was simply easier to get the conversation over with.

"Superman," Luthor said warmly. "What brings you to my window this afternoon? I trust everything is all right?"

"Luthor, did you dump Kyle Weston's body into a river?" Superman asked.

Luthor pretended to be taken aback. "That's direct. Even for you."

Superman shrugged but the expression on his face remained serious. "I know you admire straightforwardness. In others."

Luthor smiled faintly as he acknowledged the different levels of that remark.

"What I know about Kyle Weston is that he got himself involved with several groups of people promising them all the same product. He was unsuccessful in developing the product he promised. I am sure that one of those groups took the failure more personally than a businessman like I would. So, did I 'dump Kyle Weston's body into a river?' No."

Luthor paused for a moment before adding, "Not really my style, you know."

"No, I suppose not," Superman acknowledged. "But you were working with him."

"If you didn't know that already, you wouldn't be here," Luthor responded quickly.

"And since I know about the project, why don't we discuss that?" Superman said, with some spite.

"Superman, everyone without metapowers wants them. It isn't novel at all. Weston thought he could provide some. That is an investment worth my time. However, he couldn't. And more over, he wasn't willing to just give people metapowers, he wanted to destroy the ones he took the powers from. I just am grateful that your medical team is knowledgeable enough to find the virus he put into Wonder Woman's blood and remove it before it permanently crippled her," Luthor said and waited.

Only someone who knew Superman as long as Luthor had would have caught the eye widening. No, Superman didn't know anything about a virus being removed from Wonder Woman and he should have. However, the Man of Steel recovered immediately.

"Yes, our medical team is one of the best. But let's talk about these other groups that Weston was trying to sell to."

"Oh, Superman, I know nothing about them. Follow the money is my advice. It isn't dramatic but it usually works."

Superman looked at Luthor as if trying to read his mind. Luthor accepted the direct stare and returned it with a bored look.

"Don't let me find out you've lied to me, Luthor," Superman said and flew off.

Luthor waited a moment and then closed the window. Once the window clicked, he heard the door open to the conference room directly off his office. He didn't need to turn around to know who was there.

"Got 'em," he said before turning around.

When he did, Amanda Waller tipped an invisible hat at him and left the office.

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Flash, Batman and Wonder Woman were all occupied when Superman's call came over the communicator line. Flash was chasing Mirror Master through the gem exhibit in the Park Museum. Outside, in the park, Wonder Woman had engaged Captain Cold and was attempting to dodge both ice bursts and trees. On the museum roof, Batman was trying to establish what Trickster's other powers might be. The Dark Knight was beginning to believe that Trickster didn't know either.

"Wonder Woman, you need to come back to the Watchtower, now," Superman's voice said. Batman was not surprised when she didn't respond. Between the sound of flying objects and the roar of battle in her ears, he didn't think she would have heard. So, he answered for her.

He soundly punched Trickster to buy enough to activate his communicator. "Now is not a good time," he said.

"Weston injected her with something when he took her blood. Some virus."

Wonder Woman's voice came through. "That's absurd. J'onn would have found it."

"J'onn wasn't looking for it," Superman said frantically. "Luthor had a business associate hiding in his office when he told me. We need to treat this as real."

Diana caught the iced down tree Captain Cold had thrown at her and was flying with it back towards Captain Cold with every intention of using it to pin him down. She wished Superman was there in person, she didn't have time for what was a ridiculous argument. She pushed Captain Cold into the museum wall and held him there with the tree. He was pushing and she knew that it was only a matter of time before he thought to punch the tree and shatter it.

"J'onn looks for everything," she said. "Let me finish this and then I will come back."

Muffled, on the line, she heard a thud; a scream and then the low, cold voice of Batman ask Trickster "what do you know about a virus?"

Oh Hera, she thought. She grabbed the tree and used it as a club on Captain Cold. Once he hit the ground, she flew towards Batman.

She didn't need to see his face to know that something inside the Dark Knight had snapped.