As Artemis awoke, her senses kicked into overdrive. Her eyes darted around the room, searching for any useful information. She felt the cold metal of the table she was laying on and the rough plastic binds that strapped her to it. She quickly assessed the situation, trying to come up with the best method of escape.
Okay, she thought. I'm in some kind of art gallery. What can I use here to get out?
The room was filled with abstract sculptures and paintings, most centered on aspects of British culture. Among them was a painting of the Beatles wearing powdered wigs, a small statue of Big Ben, and a blue phone box. The most striking piece was a 12 foot statue shaped like a man made up of clockwork gears. It held a staff with a large gear at the end, and was poised in an attack position. The ceiling was brightly lit, with a square of unlit panels directly in Artemis' field of vision.
Mad Mod walked into the gallery, now dresses in a sharp suit with an impossibly skinny black tie. He sauntered across the room, twirling his cane.
"I believe I promised you a lesson in manners. Lesson one: sit back and relax."
The panels in the ceiling slid back to reveal a screen with swirling black and white lines that melded together into a spiral. As soon as Artemis looked at it, she found herself unable to look away. Her eyes felt heavy in their sockets, and her bones became jelly. It took all of her concentration to be able to pull her eyelids shut.
"What did you expect, for me to be hypnotized or something?"
Mad Mod chuckled and leaned in closer to her. "No my duckie, I expect you to die."
He laughed again, and touched the gem on the end of his cane. It glowed, and the clockwork gears made a grinding sound as they slowly came to life. Artemis peaked out of the corner of her eye, still trying to avoid the Hypno-Screen, and saw the statue rise from its display, readying its staff to strike.
Just as the statue was about to strike, Artemis shifted her body weight and tipped the table over. The staff slammed into the rim, tearing through the plastic binds. Artemis didn't hesitate to enjoy her newfound freedom, instead rolling to the side as the statue swung its staff around again. She ran across the gallery, searching for her quiver. She spotted it hanging by a painting of Queen Victoria dressed in a snappy business suit. She picked up the Big Ben sculpture and hurled it at the autonomic statue to buy herself some time.
"Hey!" yelled Mad Mod. "I made that when I was twelve! I won a Blue Peter Badge for it!"
Artemis grabbed her beloved quiver as the statue barreled towards her, its gears clanking with aggressive force. She fired a high-density polyurethane arrow into the robot's chest, clogging all of the gears. The statue sputtered and spasmed for a moment, before falling over and remaining still.
Artemis glared at Mad Mod, who gave a nervous laugh as she aimed an arrow at him. She fired, but he deflected it with his cane with ease. His laugh turned into a genuine one, full of malice and condescension.
"Is that really the best you can do, sweety? I don't know why the Light seemed so, troubled by an overconfident archer."
He tapped the gemstone again, and small metal nozzles extended from the walls.
"I really should be checking in on your friends now. The little brats aren't going to interrogate themselves!"
He pivoted on his heel and ran out of the room. Artemis was about to follow when flames protruded from the nozzles on the wall. Her eyes blurred by heat, she ducked under the flamethrowers and crawled out of the gallery. She looked out into the hallway, and immediately felt a wave of vertigo.
The floor in the halls was patterned with black and white diamonds that contrasted sharply and threw of Artemis' depth perception. The walls were curved and bendy, seeming to twist out into multiple directions. The whole place looked like an optical illusion book she had when she was younger. She regained her balance and tried to contact the rest of the Team telepathically.
Hello, anyone there? Helloooooooo?
Nobody answered, meaning M'gann was unconscious. Or worse.
Don't think about that. We can handle this guy. What's the worst he can do?
#####
This is beyond undignified, thought Wally.
He was strapped to a bed with thick rubber bands that only stretched no matter how fast he moved. Mad Mod stood in a corner of the bedroom, watching with amusement. He was wearing striped pajamas and a cartoonish nightcap.
"You plan on giving up soon?" he said with a smile.
Wally gritted his teeth. He could feel the bands dig into his costume, leaving painful lines across his body.
"You really have too much energy." Mad Mod switched on a television set. "You should learn to relax."
A hypnotizing black and white swirl appeared on the screen. As Wally looked at it, he felt his body slowly start to slow down. He gradually stopped resisting the bands and rested his head against the pillow.
Got to fight it. This is what he wants, Wally! Don't give it to him.
He clamped his eyed shut. Mad Mod stepped over, swirling a pair of headphones in his hands.
"Did you think I went to all this trouble just so you could close your eyes? That isn't going to work." He placed the headphones over Wally's ears. Wally was instantly bombarded with thunderous banging sounds. He felt as if the vibrations were causing his brain to shake. He writhed against the bands in pain. He was familiar with the use of sensory deprivation as an interrogation technique, where one sense is blocked out and another is overloaded. The longer he kept his eyes shut, the worse it would feel. After what could have been minutes or hours Wally opened his eyes. The first thing he saw was a green blur zoom past his face.
He turned his neck and saw Artemis standing in the doorway, reloading another into her bow. It sliced through the rubber bands. Wally's body sprung off of the bed. He sped towards Mad Mod, running circles around the bony man. Mad Mod grinned and poked out his cane. It snagged Wally's foot and sent him straight to the floor. The speedster spun and slid across the room.
Wally stood up, fighting the aches and bruises that now covered most of his body. Mad Mod rubbed the gemstone, causing hidden panels in the walls to flip open. Wally saw the tips of small missiles poke out. Without hesitating, he grabbed Artemis and sped out of the room. Behind him he heard a succession of explosions rock echo through the halls, filling them with smoke and ash. He slowed down in a sitting room and caught his breath.
"There aren't any windows." said Artemis. "There were plenty of them in the room we entered the house in. We're probably underground."
"Great." muttered Wally. "Who knows how big this place is, or how many surprises he has waiting for us."
"Funny you should mention that." A heavily accented voice rang over the intercom. "I've got a couple waiting for you on this very room! Won't you ever learn not to say stuff like that out loud?"
Artemis shot Wally an irritated glance. They turned around as they heard a mechanical whirring. The mannequins in the room spun to face them, and then began advancing with a robotic gait. They stretched out their arms, which split open at the wrist. Out of their wrist sprung the black barrels of small machine guns. Artemis ducked for cover behind a couch as the five robot mannequins filled the room with gunfire.
Wally leapt over the furniture and sped towards two robots, who tried to follow him with their gunfire. Instead they shot two of their compatriots. The bullets tore their blank white faces apart to reveal the electronic and mechanical workings underneath. Wally delivered a hailstorm of punches in rapid succession, pulverizing their chest cavities. The two mannequins fell tithe ground and billowed smoke and sparks from their wounds. Wally felt a cold piece of metal against the back of his neck, poking against the mask.
He tilted his head back to see the last remaining mannequin press its gun to his head. A green arrow stabbed into the mannequins head and poked out the other side. The arm went limp as the head exploded in a shower of sparks.
"Thanks" said Wally.
"You owe me." replied Artemis.
"Now wait just a minute," protested Wally. "I took down four of those things. You only took one."
"Yeah, but I also busted you out. Any way you look at it, I'm still ahead."
Wally rolled his eyes. He actually was glad that this part of their relationship remained intact. The two of them really enjoyed their little arguments and competition, which part of him was afraid might change. He was glad to know that they could still poke fun at each other after they revealed their feelings for each other.
"Could I just, ah, say something?" Wally stammered.
"Spill, Baywatch."
"I just, uh, wanted to say... thanks."
"For what?"
"For rescuing me. And trusting me. And always being there when I need you."
"Don't get mushy on me yet. We're still trapped underground with a deranged British fashion designer with a talent for robotics and a hypnotism fetish."
To Be Continued