3.

"Isn't that right, Johnny?" Owlman asked, casually turning his head to indicate the unusually distracted speedster; not that it was unusual for Johnny Quick to be distracted, just that normally he was distracted in a different way than he was today. Hyperactive and hyper-annoying, he was usually wired up on so much Speed Juice he was practically buzzing, flitting from one subject to the next like an over-sized humming bird. But not so today; instead he seemed withdrawn, as if his thoughts were elsewhere, on some other subject.

"Huh? Why are you asking me?" he replied, nervously scratching at his neck. "What do I know about this… this Vampire Syndicate?"

"What indeed," Owlman said, tapping his taloned fingers against the conference table – tap, tap tappp. "How about we start with what you were hiding in that secret little vault of yours? The one that was broken into last night?"

Johnny Quick looked around, obviously agitated by Owlman's line of questioning. "I… I don't know what you're talkin' about, man, I don't know anything…"

"Cut the bullshit," Owlman snapped, slamming a gauntleted fist down on the meeting table. Johnny Quick recoiled as if he had been physically struck, practically falling out of his chair in fright. "Do you really think we're all that stupid, Johnny? That you could hide really anything from us – from me?"

"I didn't realise… didn't know… how you could know how could…?" The more agitated the speedster got, the faster his words became, increasing towards their usual incoherent fervour.

"Oh shut up," Owlman snarled, scaring his teammate once more into silence. "We don't care - if we did, we would have done something about it years ago."

"What's he talking about, Johnny?" Power Ring asked, his gaze flicking between the speedster and Owlman. "What were you supposed to be hiding?"

"Not 'what'… who," Superwoman said, her voice level. "Who was he hiding?"

"John Chambers," Owlman supplied. "The original Johnny Quick. Still alive after all these years and strung up like a piñata in the new Johnny's basement. Your own personal blood bank, supplying the raw materials needed to keep up your supply of Speed Juice. Kind of ironic, given the current circumstances, wouldn't you all agree?"

Power Ring shook his head in mix of surprise and admiration. "No way," he said, his voice ringed with a touch of awe. "No Anti-Christing way." He had to admit, he was actually impressed by how twisted the whole situation was.

"So… so you knew what I did to Chambers this whole time?" Johnny Quick stammered, trying to make sense of the situation. "You knew what I did… and you didn't care? He was your teammate, your friend…"

"We don't have 'friends', Johnny, we're the Crime Syndicate!" Owlman snapped, cutting the speedster off mid-ramble. "As long as there was a Johnny Quick, as long as the balance was maintained, that was all that mattered."

Across the table, Superwoman nodded her head in agreement. "And if we thought for even a second that you couldn't do the job, that you couldn't handle it, well, then we would have freed Chambers faster than even you could have reacted…"

"Or Heaven knows, just found some other strung out junkie to give the Speed Formula to," Owlman supplied. "Face it, Quick, a super-fast monkey in a crash helmet could do your job."

Power Ring laughed, "Yeah, and you could just pay him in bananas!"

"Laugh it up why don't ya, chuckles," Johnny Quick snarled. "Just remember, we've been through more Power Rings so far than we have Johnny Quicks…"

"Which brings the conversation rather neatly around to the next probable member of the Vampire Syndicate," Owlman interjected, pressing a button on his wrist gauntlet and activating the hologram projector in the middle of the conference table. Images swam into focus above them, multiple angle photographs of an open grave, the landscape around it withered and decayed.

"There was a cemetery desecration reported outside Coast City this morning," he explained, motioning to the floating pictures. "Initial police reports were exactly as limited as expected – they blamed it on grave-robbers; maybe the work of an Abrahamic cult, or even just another case of run of the mil necrophilia. And as usual, they were completely wrong. The body inside wasn't dug up; it dug itself out. The dead are rising from their graves, and I think you can all guess whose name was on that headstone."

Power Ring's eye narrowed. "Harrolds."

Owlman nodded. "In the flesh, as they say; rotting as that may well be."

"Ultraman, Johnny Chambers, Jordan Harrolds," Power Ring said, counting them off on his fingers as he went. "The Vampire Syndicate of Amerika… but if Ultraman can raise the dead, why stop at just them? Why not raise an entire army of our dead enemies against us?"

"Why indeed? Ultraman could raise an army… Mammon knows, he probably will…" Owlman explained, "But not yet. Not at first. His Vampire Syndicate has been chosen too perfectly for his first move not to be a strike against us. I know Ultraman… Hell, we all know Ultraman. Even in death (or whatever you'd classify his current affliction as), he's still the same arrogant son of a bitch he's always been. He's weaponised the dead, and we're the target."

"So if that's the case," Power Ring continued, much to Owlman's annoyance; the ring-slinging super-criminal was still turning the situation over in his head like a Rubik's Cube, examining all the angles; "He's turned Jordan Harrolds and Johnny Chambers, he's tried to turn Superwoman herself… if he's chosen his Vampire Syndicate for their usefulness as weapons against the four of us, then whose the final member?"

"What do you mean?" Owlman snapped back; his voice was suddenly very terse, his inflection taking on a knife's edge quality. And Power Ring was dancing on the edge of that knife, and he knew it. "What 'final member' are you talking about?"

"You know what I mean, Owlman," Power Ring continued, deliberately pushing the caped crime lords buttons. Maybe it was all that talk earlier about how replaceable everyone who wasn't a member of the Owlman-Superwoman-Ultraman ménage à trois really was, but he suddenly found that he no longer cared. This was all their fault, anyway; it was always their fault. "Who's the stake he's going to drive through your heart? No pun intended."

There was a long, tense moment between the two super-criminals. It was clear that Power Ring's question was one that Owlman didn't want to answer, and conveniently for the caped crime lord, it was one whose answer would have to wait anyway; suddenly the tension was broken by the shrill bleating of the Panopticon's alarm siren as it cut across the conference room.

"Saved by the bell," Power Ring muttered.

"Yeah, but who was saved? Owlman… or you?" Johnny Quick sniped, pushing past him as they all moved towards the Panopticon's main monitor room. Power Ring ignored him.

"What is it? What's happening?"

"Isn't it obvious?" Olwman said, flashing a look back at him; his face was a humourless mask, with no trace of the usual self-satisfied smirk he would wear in a situation such as this. "Ultraman has fired his opening salvo… our war with the Vampire Syndicate of Amerika has begun!"