The rubble shifted; it was slightly at first, then it became more noticeable before chunks of debris were pushed to a side and a green dome emerged.

A moment later, the dome disappeared, John and Shayera standing up in the refreshing air. A glance around showed the building was in ruin, its back wall and a part of the ceiling there the only parts standing.

John scowled. This little venture had proved to be quite fruitful, what with the capture of Jefferson Pierce and Batwoman—the latter especially. Out of everyone, she was the one high command wanted due to her appropriation of the Bat Symbol.

Looking down to his feet, he saw Black Lightning lying not too far away, a puddle of blood surrounding his corpse. Though the Green Lantern had managed to shield the three in his bubble construct, the former Insurgent had expired shortly after.

He blatantly ignored the crushed side of the man's skull, which was quite mace-shaped.

More sounds of shifting rubble came off to his side, which the Lantern aimed his ring at. Soon, Major Force appeared, rage twisting his face. "Where is that bastard!" he roared, looking every which way. "We ain't done yet!"

"You'll stand down," John ordered, which caused Major Force to snap his head towards him. "The fight is over."

"But he's getting—"

"He's dead," he bluntly interrupted, gesturing with his now-relaxed ring hand to Black Lightning's body. "The fight's over. Now pick him up and take him back to the Hall."

Major Force stared at him for a moment before he straightened his posture, holding himself at attention. "Yes, Sir," he replied before stomping towards the Green Lantern and subsequently Black Lightning. Looking away, John surveyed the area, quickly noting chunks of ice, which were currently melting. Must have been what was left of the Insurgents Killer Frost froze and were broken apart by the collapsing building.

Speaking of whom…

Killer Frost walked up to him and Shayera, a hand rubbing the back of her head. "What happened?" she asked as she looked around the area.

"A last ditch effort to escape," Shayera told her. "You and King Shark go look for Batwoman, though I'm not expecting you to find her."

That was when another pile of debris was shaken loose and King Shark emerged. Oddly enough, he had small pieces of concrete sticking to his face, though that was because of the bits of adhesive that were stuck to him. John was familiar enough with the glue grenade the outlaw used, though it was a first for her to use it on someone's face.

However, because he was looking in the shark man's direction, he noticed another pile of rubble, one that was leaning up against what was the back office—the location of their fake bait. Seeing as it was still standing, if there was one place Batwoman would've taken refuge in to avoid the falling debris, it would be there.

Immediately, he aimed his ring and fired a green beam at it. The moment the beam touched the chunks of cement, the entire pile glowed green. Moving his arm, he moved the rubble to a side, revealing the entrance to the office. Without a word, King Shark trudged over to the doorway, stopping in front of it as he leaned in.

He then turned around. "There's a large hole in the wall," he announced to them.

"At least we know which way she escaped," Shayera remarked before looking to Killer Frost. "You know what to do."

"Yeah, yeah," Killer Frost brushed off as she headed towards her comrade. Ignoring the exchange, John looked to his wife.

"You should probably keep an eye on those two. Knowing them, they'll try and kill her instead of delivering her to the High Councilor."

"You say that like it's a bad thing," the Thanagarian smirked at him.

He returned the look. "It is when she's the only one specified to be captured alive."

"Yeah, yeah," she copied Killer Frost before opening her wings and taking off into the air. John watched her with a bemused look on his face. He stayed that way, even as his comm link beeped in his ear.

Well, today wasn't going the way everyone had expected. Cyborg stared at the computer monitor as an image of the destroyed warehouse featured prominent.

For weeks, he had been leaking out intel on a stash of 5-U-93-R at that location. Even arranged for an armed guard to patrol the grounds to give it an authentic look. Like moths to flames, the Insurgents came, lead by two of their most wanted members.

Booyah.

While Cyborg hadn't seen the fight, he had detected the lightning bolt that blew a hole in the roof and then caused most of the warehouse to collapse. Checking the active comms in the area, he saw five of the Regime's there.

Well, might as well see who was still alive.

"Watchtower to Lantern," he hailed over the comm link. "How goes things in Erie?"

"Warehouse team is all clear," John Stewart answered him after a few seconds, which was great since that meant all five of their agents were still alive. "Major Force is taking Black Lightning's body back to the Hall of Justice."

Oh, yeah! Chalk up another one for the good guys! "Good news, Lantern," he commended him, a smile on his face. "What about the other target?"

"She got away, but Shayera is taking Killer Frost and King Shark to search for her. I'm betting they're going to come up empty on that one, though."

"I'll take you up on that bet." If there was anyone that knew how to hunt, it was Hawkgirl. She had a lot of the same abilities as a bird of prey after all, so the target couldn't hide in plain sight. Then there was King Shark, who could smell blood miles away. Between those two and with the Frost lady as back up, there was no way some girl in a costume could escape.

"Hundred bucks says she gets away."

"You're on." Cyborg frowned then. For someone that was firmly on their side, it was strange that John Stewart would bet against them. "You seem pretty confident about this."

"I knew the original Bat back in the day. That guy could get in and out of a place without anyone knowing. This Batwoman has a bunch of the same skills."

Cyborg was aware of the stories about the Batman. Even before he was...enhanced, there were whispers and rumors about his accomplishments. Still, all it took was a bomb to take him out. Batwoman didn't have nearly the same reputation, so there was no way she could match. She was as good as caught.

"Yeah, well, I wasn't around back then either," he retorted.

There was a pause over the comm before, "You might have a point there, Vic. If you want to help out, put some satellite coverage over Erie."

That caused him to raise his one eyebrow. "You want me to cover the entire town? That seems a bit unnecessary."

"It's just a suggestion. Do whatever you think will help you win the bet."

Oh, was that how it was? "Fine, get ready to pay up," he muttered to himself as he tapped on the keyboard. As it so happened the satellite he was using was just about to exit the area, but another one was ninety seconds out and closing. Accessing its mainframe, he gave it the coordinates, keeping it over the entire area until he was sure he could shrink the range.

A minute and a half later and he had a bird's eye view of the entire town. Tapping on the keys, he zoomed in towards the warehouse, though he kept it several frames out unlike the previous view. It was because of this he saw it.

Several blocks away, in a building close to the Memorial Plaza, a bright light flashed. An instant later and an alarm rang out, indicating a power surge.

What the hell?

Cyborg immediately contacted John. "Hey, Lantern, I just got a large power surge in your area. It's in a building by Memorial Plaza."

John immediately replied, "I'm on it. Where's our nearest garrison?"

As it just so happened, that garrison was also by the plaza. Considering what the plaza meant to the Justice League and the past history with the depicted hero's monuments, they were making sure what happened in Gotham didn't happen here.

"There's a team right by the plaza," he informed the Green Lantern. "They also have a supply of the 5-U-93-R. Want me to call them in?"

"Do it. I'm not sure what this is, but I want to nip it in the bud as soon as possible. Lantern out."

Batwoman stumbled into the crappy room, plopping down on the ripped up couch. Just to think it hadn't been that long ago that she had met up with Black Lightning here for their failed mission.

He was dead now, no question about it. Green Lantern had gone for a killshot considering he hit Black Lightning right where his heart was. Apparently he had been off just by a tiny bit considering her friend had managed to retain consciousness and offered her her only way out.

Damn it.

They could not afford this. Every day the High Councilor and his regime were consolidating power, which made taking them all out even tougher. In turn, every day that passed caused the Insurgency to lose manpower. Ted Kord, the Blue Beetle, had fallen not too long ago either. They were down another of their very few meta-humans. Before long, it would just be former vigilantes left and whatever chance they had was effectively gone.

"Rough day at the office?"

Batwoman didn't even flinch. She had known she wasn't alone in this tiny room. Unfortunately, this was the last person she wanted to deal with, especially after how fucked up everything had become. Life, however, wasn't going to let her properly mourn until she got this over with.

Warily, she turned her head, the redhead cascading down her opposite shoulder as she looked at a green-clad man perched on a stool, his hands resting on top of a bow with its other end pressed onto the floor. "What brings you here, Queen?" she greeted blandly.

Oliver Queen didn't so much as flinch from the use of his name. He had been called as much for some time now, though the reason for that was a touchy subject. The Green Arrow moniker was pretty much useless for anonymity. He had aged quite a bit too since the last time he had gone under that name, with white hair accentuating his blond at his temples.

Queen didn't bother with pleasantries this time. "I heard about what happened," he said succinctly. "I'm sorry about Jefferson."

Batwoman sighed. "So am I." She turned her head to look down at the floor, hunching her body over as she did so. "It's been a bad day."

"That kinda happens when you place all of your hopes and dreams on a magic pill," the archer commented. "Mention 5-U-93-R and you all go scrambling for it. Of course the Regime would figure that out and use it against you."

The 5-U-93-R—or magic pill as Queen put it—was an enhancement compound that gave your average, everyday man and woman the strength of Superman and Wonder Woman, as well as their durability. The moment the Insurgency had gotten their hands on a supply of this pills, they had struck quite a few blows against the Regime. It allowed people like her to go toe-to-toe with Hawkgirl, Shazam, and the other meta-humans.

Though he was right, that didn't stop anger from welling up within the redhead. "Can you not do this right now?" she seethed as she glared at the blond man. "Unless your next words are you're coming back, then I don't want to hear it."

Which was a point of contention between the two of them, along with a host of others. Queen had left the Insurgency a couple years back, saying that their long, endless fight of the Regime was doomed. He would do everything he could to survive—not to mention take his own shots at the Regime the way he best saw fit—but his allegiance was over. She couldn't blame him for his reasons, but she knew his preferred ones were extreme and went in the face of what they were trying to accomplish. It was one thing to tear down the Regime, but it was another to do it by their means. While Queen had yet to be reported as killing someone, be it the armed police force, or the meta-humans of the Regime, it was only a matter of time.

"Sorry, but I can't do that," Queen told her, not that she was surprised. "But that doesn't mean I can't help you from time to time. Right now, you need someone to help you through this. You and I both know you don't handle loss well."

"Pot meet kettle."

That caused a smirk to appear on Queen's face. "Touche." Then he became serious again. "Are you going to be alright?"

She sighed again. "Not today. Ask me tomorrow."

"What are you going to do?"

"Long term? I'll keep fighting." And she would do that until she breathed her last breath, which it wouldn't surprise her if that was the case. She blamed her idol for ingraining the doctrine of fighting for lost causes into her. "Short term: I'm not sure."

"Then let me recommend getting out of this place of yours," the blond man suggested. "Hanging around here with all your memories of Jefferson aren't going to do you good. If there's somewhere else you can go, I highly recommend it. Take some time to grieve, regroup, then plan your next move."

That wasn't all that bad of an idea actually. In fact, she had been meaning to go check on her place. It seemed today would be that day. "I think I'll take you up on that," she said after a moment. "If you need me, I'll be home."

A comforting smile appeared on Queen's face. "That a girl. Take all the time you need, I'll make sure the High God Complex and his minions don't bother you."

The last thing he could remember were the flames. He had gotten his arms up to guard his face, a feeble defense as the fire washed all over him. They were bright and hot, greedily burning at his body. Then came the force of the blast slamming into his body, throwing him backwards. The last thing he saw was a wall of orange and red, followed by a flash of blinding whiteness, and then darkness.

It was to the darkness when he came to. That and a pounding headache. In fact, his body felt disoriented, which caused a wave of nausea to settle in his stomach and the feeling of bile working its way up his throat.

Batman groaned. He felt like he had just gone fifteen rounds with the current heavy-weight champion and lost. Pressing his hands down on the ground, he slowly pushed himself up. His eyes opened, which he then quickly closed. The light was blindingly bright and he could feel his eyeballs burning from the exposure. He kept himself like that, on his hands and knees as he slowly recovered.

The last thing the vigilante remembered, he had been trying to deactivate a bomb. If his last memory served him right, he was pretty sure he failed. So was this heaven? Hell? None of the above?

Well, to be fair he was pretty certain it was the last option. He vividly recalled his previous death experiences and none of them were like this. Batman was pretty sure that he was alive and well, though all that did was confuse him. Even with his armor, there was no way he was supposed to survive an explosion at such close range.

Again, he opened his eyes and thankfully was able to keep them open. The dark-clad man found himself looking down at a steel floor, its crossed-shaped rivets pressed into his gloved palms.

That was the first sign telling him something was up. Tilting his head up as he fully pushed himself to crouch on his feet. As his arms hanged at his sides, he soon found he was in the middle of a wide open, empty room. The light was coming from a line of windows that circled around the building. He was pretty sure it was a warehouse, but he wasn't too positive.

What he was sure about was this was not the factory he had been in previously. Well then, his first priority was to find out where he was. Reaching to his belt, Batman pulled out his palm pilot and activated it. He waited a few seconds before the message UNABLE TO CONNECT appeared on the screen.

That shouldn't have happened. This device was connected to a Wayne Enterprises satellite; in fact, it connected to all of them. The chances that a signal would not be caught was minimal. The only way was if all of the satellites were disabled or destroyed, which was impossible. There was something else afoot. Knowing his luck, it would be something simple, like a faulty wire.

Shoving the device back into his pouch, Batman stood up on his feet. Surveying the room, he soon saw one that had a large square in it, a door handle towards a side. That was his most likely exit.

Before he could take a step, however, dull bangs came from the other side, right before the door slid open. Immediately, men in black suits and what was best described as Darth Vader helmets stormed. Several took knees as they aimed automatic weapons at him, others standing right behind that line, also aiming their weapons at him. There was a strange symbol on the upper left portion of their chest plates, but he was too far away and had other things to preoccupy himself with to study it further.

The moment the crowd stopped growing, one of the men called out to him. "Member of the Bat Underground, surrender yourself at once!"

Bat Underground? Batman allowed his cape to envelop his body, hiding it from sight. If they were trying to arrest him, they were going to have to earn it.

"Last chance, we have taken the enhancement pills and we will crush you if need be."

Oh, now he really wanted to surrender. "Take your best shot," he goaded.

"If that's the way you want to play it," the masked man shot back.

In an instant, Batman tossed off his cape and threw a smoke pellet on the floor in front of him. As a cloud of smoke exploded, he fired his grapple gun up towards the ceiling and immediately shot up into the air, just before the first gunshots were made. As he drew higher and higher, Batman reached into his belt and did not pull out his bat-shaped shuriken. Instead, he went for something new.

They were best described as small, round, metal disks. There were eight gunmen and, as it so happened, he had eight of these little devices. With a toss, he sent them falling towards the men, even as he stopped his own ascension.

As the disks neared the men, the magnet in each of them immediately pulled them to the guns, or at least that's what should have happened. Instead, they all attached to various places on the men's helmets.

Well, this was going to prove most interesting.

The number three appeared on each and every disk's forward facing surface, then counted down to two, then one. The moment they hit zero, each exploded, a rapid fire blasts not unsimilar to that of the machine gun. Each man's head jerked in the opposite direction of the blasts, causing them to stumble. While he normally would've been concerned by this, the helmets were sturdy and they withstood the blasts. At most these men would have concussions, but they would be alive.

In fact, they had dropped their weapons as they reached up for their heads. It wasn't the way he wanted it to go, but it did give him the result. Disengaging his grapple claw, Batman dropped to land right in front of the men, going into a crouch upon landing. Immediately, he shot up, throwing an uppercut to the man's chin.

Then promptly regretted it. Though he forced the helmeted man's head to snap back, it had felt like punching a wall. His arm shuddered as a jolt of pain shot down it. Grunting, Batman pulled his arm back, grabbing his wrist to soothe the pain. However, he was quite aware of the armored man recovering and throwing a fist at him.

It was on instinct that Batman reacted. Ducking the punch, he shot a hand to grab the man's wrist and pulled on it to keep it moving forward. Twisting his body, he brought up his other arm, keeping it bent as his elbow went right into the man's armpit. Using his opponent's momentum against him, he hauled the man off the ground, and then drove him headfirst into the steel floor. Though the man was hard to punch, his brain was still as soft as ever and he went limp as his body collapsed onto the floor.

"Holy crap!" one of the men shouted, which caused the other men to hesitate. That was all the time he needed as he pulled out a shuriken from his belt, taping it on its base with his thumb. Swinging his arm, he sent the projectile flying at the masked man that had yelled, the shuriken exploding right in front of him a second before impact. The blast hit the man and a friend of his point blank, sending both flying backwards into a wall. However, both men landed on their feet, but their stumbling indicated they weren't perfectly fine. Still, it was troubling that they weren't finished.

Whatever was going on, Batman wanted no part of it. Until he knew what he was dealing with, he needed to withdraw, even though these men weren't going to let that happen. In fact, movement from the corner of his eye alerted him to one such man charging at him. He barely turned in time to see the punch coming at him, but that was it.

In an instant, it was Batman's turn to go sailing backwards. The air was forced out of his lungs from the blow to his chest. It was actually miraculous he managed to touch down on his feet instead of crumpling into a pile on the floor. Gasping, he sucked precious air back into his lungs.

What the hell was that?! One punch and he felt as if he had been hit by Superman! Alright, it was definitely time to get out of here. Seeing as the only exit was the open door, he would go through there. The windows were an option, but he'd rather use that as a backup just in case.

It never hurt to have a contingency.

Reaching to his belt, he pulled out a smoke pellet, even as the man who hit him was running at him. Holding his ground, Batman waited until the last second just as the charging man threw another fist at him. Immediately, he spun to the left, letting the fist fly harmlessly by as his back rolled down the length of his attacker's arm.

And then he was running, making a break for the door. Three more of the masked men were rushing at him too, the closest one with his arm raised. Throwing his arm out, he let the smoke pellet fly from his hand and hit the floor between him and the three, the smoke exploding in all directions. Instinct would cause them to slow down, which was more than enough time for the vigilante.

That left just one man guarding the exit, standing right in the middle of the threshold. He had his arms and fists up like a boxer, ready to fight.

Batman ran full speed at the man, arms pumping at his sides. As he drew near, the guard threw a punch at him, while the dark-clad man simultaneously leaped off the floor. With his arms stretched out in front of him, the distance between the two shrank quickly.

Much to the vigilante's relief, the fist sailed just beneath him, leaving him untouched. An instant later, his outstretched hands grabbed onto what was best described as straps, which connected the shoulder guards to the chest plate. The moment he took hold of the straps, he flung his legs up over his head, causing him to go into a flip. As his feet reached the peak of their arc, he tugged on the straps, throwing the man off-balance.

His legs swung down then, Batman pulling on the guard and causing him to fall backwards. The guard landed on his back as the Dark Knight went into a roll, ending up on his feet. Forcing himself to stand up, he spun around and watched as the rest of the armored men rushed out of the building behind him.

Slowly, Batman paced to his right, turning to keep the men in his field of vision. They, in turned, did the same until all of them had the building to one side, Batman's right and the guards' left.

Though he was facing them, Batman wasn't focused on them. Instead he was searching for some way to escape, seeing none. No manhole covering was visible and there was no telling if he'd be able to grapple himself to safety. While there was a distance between him and them, it wasn't great enough to risk such a move right now.

Still, while the way in front of him was giving him nothing, that didn't mean there wasn't any behind. He would just have to keep up his search. Glancing to his left then, he saw a rather large plaza, a series of stairs between the warehouse and it. There was a railing close to the men and vigilante, a bed of violets growing on the other side. In fact, there were rows and rows of violets that circled the plaza, walkways dividing each row. The only exception was the plaza's center where—

Is that a statue of me?

Batman had to do a double take, which wasn't exactly something he could afford at the moment. Indeed, there was a large granite statue of him, standing proudly with his head held high.

So caught up was he by the sight that he nearly missed his internal alarm go off. Eyes widening, he leaned backwards even as he jumped, going into a backflip. A moment later, a green beam rushed right by where he had been standing. As his hands touched the ground, he sprang off of them and landed on his feet.

That was when he saw the green-glowing man float down, coming to a stop between him and the masked men, still maintaining his position in the air. Batman's mouth dropped slightly. Though he was bald and had a beard and mustache, he knew John Stewart when he saw him. The outfit was new too, what with the green and black inverse to his usual costume. So were the short sleeves and black forearm bands.

"Lantern?" he called out in bewilderment.

"Nice move," John complimented him, "but you won't get a second one. I don't know what it is with you Bat Underground guys, but this is in pretty poor taste, even for you."

Batman scowled. "What the hell is—"

Before he could finished, Green Lantern fired a beam at him. Immediately, Batman jumped to a side, twisting around to keep the blast in his eyesight. It was because of this that he saw the beam stop right before him and a large hand form. Before he could react, the palm pressed against him as the fingers wrapped around his body, pinning his arms to a side.

John then let out a war cry as he swung his arm across his body, which in turned sent Batman flying until he slammed into the side of the warehouse. He barely had time to let out a cry from the pain before he was jerked high into the air. Seeing John holding his hand above his head, the vigilante knew what was coming, but there wasn't anything he could do to stop it.

The Green Lantern swung his arm down, which in turned dropped the dark-clad man to the ground. He hit the concrete like a hammer against a nail; in fact, the ground cracked from the impact.

And still, the green hand construct never released him. John slowly drifted down to land in front of him, a hard expression on his face. "You're lucky the High Councilor will want to see you alive. Otherwise I'd take you out right here and right now."

Batman just stared up at the man, even as he raised his foot up and then kicked it down against his face. His return to darkness soon followed.

To Guest: Better or worse for the Insurgents, or the story? lol