Part 2: Unnatural Disaster
Chapter Rating: PG-13
Summary: Wally West struggles through his recovery but what happens when he gets an offer he can't refuse? What will it mean for him, for the world and for his future with the League?
Disclaimer: The DC characters are not mine. I'm just playing with them. They'll be returned eventually, not in good condition but that can hardly be blamed on me!
Author's Note: Mwa ha ha ha haaa!
Chapter 4 - Manu Militari
He'd never been in a helicopter before. Interplanetary spaceships, trans-dimensional portals, supersonic stealth jets sure but never a helicopter. Though even as a small part of him was interested by the craft the rest of him buzzed with anxiety. They'd left Washington as soon as the press conference was over and escaped in almost James Bond style to the waiting helicopter. Their destination didn't promise to be nearly as welcoming as the sleek black chopper with the Naval logo displayed proudly over the black metal. "Little Creek Naval Amphibious Base" was a name Wally knew would soon be synonymous with dread. Anybody who's seen any military flick knew the Basic Training was as close to torture as somebody could willingly get.
"You'll meet the rest of the team there," Ross said. It sounded like he was continuing with an explanation but Wally couldn't recall the beginning of it. While Ross continued his dialogue Wally's eyes shifted to the other man sitting on the opposite row of seats. Javier Lorelli's dark eyes hadn't left him since they'd taken off. What he was searching for, West didn't know but he couldn't begin to care either. The further they went the number he felt. Even the former SEAL's penetrating gaze didn't shake him.
He began to rub the palm of his left hand as the ache that had been with him for the past several hours began to hurt more. The only thing he seemed to be able to feel clearly was the physical pain, in his hands, his head.
"When you're ready the team will begin active duty. Chief Petty Officer Lorelli will be the judge of when that is. It is his team after all." Though Ross had said it with a straight face and no hint of ridicule, his body language said clearly that Strike Force Alpha was his team, Lorelli was just babysitting it.
Venturing another glance at Lorelli the eyes were still on him. This time however, Wally could read his intent and it did not bode well for him.
+JLU+
In the Bat-Cave Batman, with his masked removed, sat working at his computer. His fingers danced rapidly over the keyboard as he searched through many a database that should have been restricted to him. At his side was Tim Drake, the youngster he'd adopted when his father too had been claimed by Gotham crime. Tim was watching the press conference on one of the smaller side monitors. Batman had recorded it so that the footage could be re-examined. He often found that people said more than they meant to when they tried hard to hide something.
"They called him a weapon," said Tim. He paused, rewound and played the portion of Admiral Ross's speech where he introduced the Flash as their secret weapon. "Right on national TV." He turned to look at Bruce who'd given no indication that he was listening but Tim knew better. "You think it was a slip?"
"It doesn't matter. He thought it, he said it, it's out there." When he'd heard Ross call Wally a weapon he'd felt something grip his insides in cold worry. Weapons were killing tools, which presented two fundamental problems. The first was that the Flash wasn't a killer. Nothing could be done to fundamentally alter Wally in such a way that he would kill on order. Bruce thought that the persuasion necessary for such a transformation would have to be so radical that Wally probably wouldn't survive. The second problem was that weapons are tools and tools are expendable.
"Why did he leave the league? They wouldn't kick him out over that thing with the Trickster. I think the punk deserved it." Tim's mouth snapped closed at the look Batman tossed him. He breathed easier when the piercing eyes turned back to his work. "Anyway, there has to be more to it. They must have something on him."
Batman was impressed with the youth's deduction. "They threatened his family." That was all the explanation required. It was every hero's worst nightmare, identity exposed, family in danger and West was living it with the world watching. "I've given the Allen's communicators to our direct line. If they're in trouble I'll respond."
"Me too," Tim quickly added, sounding insulted at being left out. He was further insulted by the smirk that crossed Bruce's face. "What about Dick?"
"Yeah what about me?"
Bruce and Tim both turned around to see Dick Grayson walking out from the shadows. He'd entered the cave without setting off the security system. Not bad for the first Batman apprentice.
"Everybody's going to have to look out for them while West is away," said Bruce.
"Away. What a nice euphemism. They freaking forced him to join their dumb team!"
"What makes you so sure?"
It was a question that Dick knew Bruce knew the answer to already. Which meant the only other reason he had for asking was for a test. Dick didn't feel like playing his games, instead only saying, "I know Wally."
Tim glanced at one and then the other, not entirely understanding the silent battle he was witnessing. The relationship between Grayson and Wayne was more complicated than Tim thought either of them could ever explain. Whenever they were together there was this hostility. It was as though Dick wanted something but Bruce continued to stoically withhold. Tim thought it was affection. Bruce was pretty stingy with it but his father had been as well and he'd learnt to pick out the signs and be content with that.
Dick was the other side of the coin in regards to his original family. Circus performers, Dick had recounted to him once what his family had been like and it sound like a childhood dream to Tim. He was embarrassed to admit that when he was a little kid he'd wanted to run away with the circus and from Dick's description, the Grayson family had been close-knit, with affectionate and doting parents. For Tim, Bruce was a step up in regards to parental care, for Dick it probably seemed like a big step down. The bruises of that fall still had yet to fade completely.
"What about the Justice League? What are they going to do?"
"They can't do anything." Bruce's eyes briefly caught Tim's as he turned back to the console.
"Any connection to Luthor or CADMUS?" Dick inquired.
"Nothing significant. Luthor's been pretty quiet lately. His plan with Dox seems to have fallen through. He's probably regrouping but when his next move will be, I can't predict. His trial is coming up. He might try to lay low until then."
"I highly doubt Luthor is going to show up for his trial. Leaving his fate to be decided by other people just wouldn't be Luthor style. I doubt he'd consider a jury of humans to be his peers."
Bruce agreed. Luthor would make a move. His trial date was six weeks away. Let the countdown begin.
+JLU+
Basic Training began early the next morning. Somebody came and pounded on the door of his small room in the barracks jerking him out of a sound sleep. According to the clock it was five am.
"Always thought five am was just a rumour," Wally whined to himself. He rushed through his morning routine, showering and brushing his teeth in the shared washroom at the end of the corridor. He'd been given a brief tour the day before so he knew enough to find his way to the mess. It was pretty busy considering that it was 5:30 in the morning but the many empty tables allowed Wally to eat his breakfast in peace, mostly.
All eyes had gone to him the moment he entered the large room. Even dressed in naval training fatigues he could not blend in with the rest of the officers. He'd studiously ignored them and retrieved his food. He took a table away from the end of the cafeteria line so that people would not be continually passing him. He ate everything, including the stingy extra servings he'd had to argue out of the kitchen staff, worried that he may not be able to eat as often as he usually would like. If asked however, he wouldn't be able to tell anybody what he'd eaten or how it'd tasted. Because though he went through the motions the vitality so characteristic of Wally West of the Flash was missing.
Wally met Lorelli and the others outside one of the buildings next to the cafeteria. His introduction to the rest of Strike Force Alpha was a simple affair. All standing at attention, Lorelli rattled off their names, ranks and specialties. He didn't hear a word of it but training began immediately so there was no time for socializing.
"We start with a five-mile run four days a week if not more. Today we're running," Lorelli announced. West waited knowing and dreading what else was to come. He knew there was more. He could run five miles in a blink so no doubt they'd considered that. "For our rookie with the super-speed we've got something special." Near the beige exterior wall of the nearest building was a case. Lorelli flicked up the latches and opened it. The veteran members of the team didn't break their stance, only shifted their eyes as far as they would go to peer into the mystery container. Wally turned his head to look but wisely kept his feet in place.
"The Air Force researchers came up with this piece of equipment." Lorelli pulled out a black vest. "All you need to know is that it's heavy and by setting the controls on the side here, it's perceived weight can be changed." He roughly fit the vest over Wally's torso. "Also got matching wrist bands." He fastened those on too. They snuggly covered about half his forearm. "You'll start with three hundred added pounds and you will always train with it on," Lorelli murmured as he set the contraption and turned it on. Right away Wally felt the pressure on his shoulders and on his arms increasing as the device ramped up to the set weight. By the time 300 pounds was reached Wally was already breathing more heavily.
"Ready?" Lorelli asked his team. "Let's go." He led the pack in the run and thirty-five minutes later they were back.
Wally stumbled to a halt managing to stay upright through sheer determination alone. That run was more difficult than he'd expected. Running with the extra weight was difficult but running at what was such a slow pace for him was even more tiring. If it had been up to him he'd have sprinted the whole thing and be done in a few seconds even with the added weight. The route was unfamiliar to him though and he got the feeling that the team always stayed together. Far be it for him to make himself more of an outcast than he already was.
The break after the run was far too short and a new part of the workout began. One hundred push-ups, one hundred sit-ups, rope climb, wall climb it just never seemed to end. Around them other groups went on with their exercise though their workout was not as rigorous as SFA's and none more difficult than West's. From his office on the sixth floor of the main administrative building on the base Admiral Ross gazed down at his team of veteran soldiers and the single new recruit.
"I almost can't believe you actually have him here."
"Eiling, you can't underestimate a man with a mission," said Ross. "He's been surprisingly docile."
"Still we can't take any chances," Wade said quickly. If Ross backed down he may not have the clout to get the procedure done by himself. Though this team was also his creation Jared had somehow managed to subtly wrest more power over the operation. "He may be quiet now but he won't stay that way. That'd be too damn easy."
Ross looked at General Wade Eiling from the corner of his eye, curious at the man's hatred for meta-humans. Ross wasn't an emotional man. He didn't waste time on hate. Didn't look at meta-humans and see abominations he saw concentrated power, power that would be well used in the military.
"Let's put that on the backburner for now," said Ross. He nodded his head back at the manila folder on his desk and the papers therein. They'd received all the materials required from their secret partner and their team of physicians and scientist assured them the procedure was sound.
"We need to be able to control him! First chance he gets he'll turn on us!"
"No he won't, not while I've got his family in my sights." It was always a marvel to Ross that people could be manipulated so easily, that people let themselves be manipulated.
"Did you hear about the girl? We lost control of that experiment and it nearly cost us everything," Eiling tried to persuade.
Ross was adamant and completely confident in his scheme. "He's under control. Drop it. As for her, once she's repaired we'll introduce them. I think it will be interesting." Ross smiled before walking away leaving Eiling by the window to silently fume.
Lorelli was standing at the edge of the pool yelling random questions at his team as they tread water. They had their arms fully extended above their heads holding onto plastic bars filled with sand. Rule of the exercise: bar must be above head at all times. Though they didn't weigh too much it added to the exertion and fatigue and taught them to fight through it. The questions taught them to think while tired.
"Marks, what the range of the CS-9?"
From the pool the man addressed responded. "Sir, the CS-9 has a range of two hundred feet with ninety-nine percent force retained, thirty-percent lost for each additional fifty feet, sir!"
Lorrelli nodded and walked to the other side of the group. "Onade what is atmospheric pressure at sea level?"
The bronze-skinned woman, one of only three women on the team responded quickly. "Sir, atmospheric pressure is seven-hundred sixty Torr, sir!"
"Lawrence, metric?"
"Sir, one-thousand and one Newtons per square meter, sir!"
Lorelli let his eyes skip over each team member gauging their state and find all but one of them satisfactory. Near the front of the group but still several feet from the pools edge West was treading but barely managing to keep his chin from touching the water. His face was slack with fatigue and his mouth was opened as he tried to get enough oxygen. "Keep your head up, West!"
The young man's previously distant and empty eyes shifted to him but there was nothing behind them. He did renew his efforts but the half-inch further out of the water he managed to get was lost a few minutes later.
Lorelli averted his eyes, ashamed at his part in this. He'd been instructed to keep West from eating lunch by his superiors. While he sent the others away to eat Wally was sent to administration to fill out some forms and meet with people that had to see him. Though he'd been informed it would only take a maximum of fifteen minutes, he was forced to spend his entire forty-minute lunch break there. Lorelli had been waiting to take him back to the rest of the group so he didn't have a chance to speed off and get a snack.
Now Lorelli watched as the Flash's body ran out of power. He hadn't been in the best shape to begin with. Not long had passed since his abduction by Vril and comparing the current Wally West with any picture of the Flash pre-Dox was an exercise in the signs of suffering. Everything about the man spoke of a traumatized psyche and he was well versed in the physical ramifications. He'd seen similar traits, similar demeanours on members of his previous platoons after difficult fights. For West, with his super-metabolism, the results were magnified.
About to call an end to the exercise the team-leader was interrupted by General Eiling. Lorelli went to attention and saluted.
Eiling paid him no mind. He focused his gaze on West. "How's the newbie doing?"
"Sir, he's doing well, sir."
Eiling briefly shifted his eyes to Lorelli. He heard something in the Chief Petty Officer's tone but chose to ignore it. "What's the weight setting?" He gestured to Wally with his chin.
"Three hundred pounds, sir."
"I think he can do better than that." From his pocket the General retrieved a small rectangular device. With the small display the buttons and a little dial in the middle it looked like a remote. A remote to what, only Eiling knew but the others soon found out.
Wally bit down a grunt as the weight increased. He treaded more vigorously against the added force but every time he'd equalized the downward force the weight went up.
Lorelli and the rest of the team watched nervously as Eiling turned the dial, increasing the vest and wristband's output.
West clenched his teeth trying to gather his fleeting strength. He kicked harder trying to stay a float. So hard in fact, that water currents began to be felt through the usually perfectly calm water. Even at the shallower end of the Olympic-size pool the turbulence was felt because of what was happening at the deep end. Those of Strike Team Alpha in the water kept their composure, managing to keep their rods out of the water even if some elbows may have briefly touched.
The currents began to subside almost as quickly as they had come yet the weight of the suit continually increased. Wally began to sink lower and lower until he barely had his face above the water.
Lorelli began to warn him. "Sir-"
"You haven't been addressed Chief Petty Officer!"
Finally, just as Eiling had wanted, Wally's head went under after he took one last breath. Still, Eiling turned the dial watching impassively as the red-head slipped farther down. In the pool the other officers glanced at each other, at their leader and at the sinking man uncertain as to when this would end.
"Stand down!" Eiling ordered when one man, Marks, began to go after West. Marks was second in command of the team. He'd been serving his country for many years, seen a lot of superior officers with their own brand to training but nothing like this. Eiling wasn't training West, he was just trying to hurt him, maybe even kill him.
"General!" Marks yelled in an act of insubordination that he was sure would not go unpunished later.
"I said stand down!"
Below the water's surface Wally had let got of the bar. He flailed, struggling to reach the surface but the vest was still getting heavier. Fatigue began to still his muscles as he made an attempt to unhook the contraption. Though he undid one of the fastenings it was too late. Starved of fuel and oxygen that his body needed so desperately unconsciousness quickly stole him away. He sank and the darkness clouded his sight of the agitated surface rippling in a bright pattern above. 'I didn't know the pool was this deep' was his last thought as he mistook the darkness of unconsciousness with deep water.
Bubbles rose from the blue depth and burbled at the surface for a second before stopping.
"General, stop this!" Lorelli ordered.
"I've given you all orders to stand down! Disobey and you'll rue the consequences for the rest of your short careers!" His eyes held a faint glint of something cold and crazy. He could not be reasoned with, Lorelli concluded.
Fully clothed Lorelli dove in and swam to the bottom of the pool where West was pinned to the bottom by the vest and bands that he'd fastened on the speedster. He tried to turn off the vest but all his commands were over ridden by the remote. Lorelli turned his effort on undoing the device. The weights around his arms unsnapped easily and with some effort fell off. The vest however was another matter. Even with the clasps undone the vest had too be taken off over Wally's head and it was just too heavy for one regular man to lift.
Descending from above two more people arrived to help. Their combined effort still wasn't enough. They tried to pull Wally out of the vest but it was pressed on top of him crushing him against the floor of the pool. More hands feet and limbs tangled as more of the team submerged to lend their effort. One member, Onade, attempted to give Wally a breath but as soon as she moved away the air bubbled to the surface. She gestured to the others that he was totally unresponsive and efforts were redoubled to get the suit off him.
Even with as many people as could reach pulling on the vest while others tried to pull Wally free it wasn't enough. Lorelli who'd been down the longest felt the familiar burn in his lungs and knew he had to resurface. He looked down as he swam up watching for as long as possible the slow motion efforts of his team to save their newest member.
Breaking the surface of the water was a relief and the itch for air was eased with his first deep breath.
"Lorelli," Eiling greeted coldly. Lorelli swam to the pool's edge and climbed out. He advanced quickly on Eiling and removed by force the remote in his hand. Lorelli dropped the small device and stomped on it with the heel of his soaked boot. The two formidable men stared daggers at each other while the rest of Strike Team Alpha surfaced, an unconscious West with them. Eiling walked away with nary a glance at what he'd done.
"Get him out of the pool," one man, Hill, ordered needlessly. They dragged him out, vest still on him, and laid him out at the poolside. Hill began administering mouth-to-mouth resuscitation and after several breaths he was rewarded with a spray of chlorinated water. Wally began to cough up the pool water and was turned on his side to allow as much of it to drain out as possible. The blue tinge slowly began to ebb out of his lips as he resumed breathing.
"How is he?" Lorelli asked standing over them.
Hill lay West on his back again and began check his vitals. After lifting the pale eye-lids Hill shook his head. "He's still unresponsive."
Lorelli took a deep breath, turned in the direction of the pools main office and yelled. "Medic!"
+JLU+
Beep.
You allowed this to happen.
Beep.
This is your fault.
Beep.
He's your responsibility.
Beep.
"He's going to be okay."
"I know," Javier Lorelli sighed. Behind him Bradley Marks followed his gaze to the unconscious man on the infirmary bed. An oxygen mask was fit over his nose and mouth and on his left index finger a white clip monitored his pulse and oxygen saturation level. When West had been brought in he was hypoxic, hypoglycaemic and his pulse faint.
"I thought he'd be harder to kill." Brad's insensitive comment broke the small bout of silence between the monitors beeping. Javier slowly turned his head towards the man near the door and glared. "I mean, I've seen him on TV!" Brad hastened to explain. "They all sort of seemed invincible. And he," Brad directed his gaze back to the patient. "Well, he's not like he was."
"You saw that thing on TV when Dox had him? I don't know what he's been through but I can bet it wasn't pleasant." Lorelli pivoted away from the prone form. "That's what changed him and I don't think he's ready to be fighting again."
"What are we going to do? Eiling and Ross are always on our backs. They've got him book solid for test after test."
Lorelli's head dipped in a solemn nod of agreement. "We've gotta look out for him." He said it as though it would be the simplest thing in the world. "He's one of us now. We look out for our own."
"Yeah we do. And if West gets hurt on our watch the Justice League will kick our ass from here to Timbuktu."
Lorelli couldn't repress a small laugh. "Brief the rest of the team. Let them know that West is okay."
"Where are you going?" Marks asked as the superior officer walked by him and out the door.
"I have a bone to pick with General Eiling." They both new that as the ranking officer, ignoring Eiling's order not to act was a breach of protocol and could lead them all into big trouble. However, they were only obligated to follow lawful orders. Watching a new recruit die, super-powered or not, was not in the code of conduct.
+JLU+
"What the hell were you thinking?" Ross asked with barely constrained rage. "After all we've done to get here you nearly blow it by killing off our gratest weapon?"
Eiling shrugged unapologetically and sat down across from the Admiral. He picked up the finger of amber liquor in the glass Ross had poured for him a few moments ago. "He's still breathing."
"I know you want to make an example of him. Prove to all the others like him that they can be beat. However, this is not the time to deal with your inferiority complex!"
"I am in no way inferior to that mistake! I was putting him in his place!"
Ross raised one hand to halt the argument. The other hand rubbed at his eyes. There was no reasoning with Eiling right now. The problem was this man couldn't see the bigger picture and Ross had neither the patience nor the inclination to explain what he thought was so obvious. Maybe it was all the fast-food but per capita the United States had the largest meta-human population. Near invincible soldiers with built in weaponry and no research and development costs, the perfect army. West would be amongst the first and the plans extended far in to the future. He had nothing against the Justice League on a personal level. It was just that they had what he wanted.
"Just keep yourself in check," Ross advised. He took a sip from his own glass of brandy and eyed his partner over the rim. "Lorelli's ready to make a stink about this. I've managed to calm him so this incident won't go on the record."
Eiling gave a derisive huff. He raised his glass in a toast. "To meta-human freaks, the cause of and solution to all our problems."
+JLU+
Three hours later Wally West awoke to the regular beep of the heart monitor. The blurry white walls of the infirmary swam slowly into focus and from the lack of light coming through a window just a foot away he knew it was late. He could deduce where he was. Somebody had saved him from the wacko General and that vest contraption. He'd thought for the umpteenth time in far too short a period that he was going to die.
Wally attempted to sit up but pain flared in his mid-section. He crashed back down to the bed.
"Careful," a voice warned to late over the rapid beeping. "You're not in the best shape right now."
Chief Petty Officer Lorelli moved from the chair he'd been resting on to Wally's field of vision.
"You're not as scary when you talk normal," Wally said before he could think.
Lorelli smiled. "I get that more often than you might think."
"What happened exactly?"
Lorelli looked away, shame draining the smile from his face. "I made a mistake. I didn't act when I should have. It won't happen again." The furrowed brows informed Javier that his words weren't understood. Not surprising considering that he hadn't eaten in over twelve hours while going through some advanced Basic Training. He was allowed not to understand. "Just get some rest. You're part of a new team. We look out for our own."
Suspicion was written across Wally's face. Lorelli may care for the men and women under his command but it's quite clear that West wasn't really part of the group. He was a meta-human among humans, a reluctant celebrity among the anonymous. Even donned in their uniform he didn't feel like one of them. He didn't know how he'd fight along side them without wanting to protect them too. Part of being in a team meant facing the threat equally, which meant equal possibility of injury. Every part of Wally was saying that this wasn't going to work, this fiasco wasn't going to end well.
He turned his head away and closed his eyes. "Sure you do."
End Chapter 4 - By Military Means
So, the Wally torture continues. Sorry but things aren't going to get better. It's all downhill from here.
Sagga…