Growing Pains

February 2, 1942

"There's got to be a better way to do this," said Mr. America.

"I offered to carry you there," said Johnny Quick.

That didn't amuse Mr. America, but he didn't continue his complaints out loud, settling for a silent grimace. Libby pretended not to notice as Johnny shot her a conspiratorial look. It was a bit packed in their Ford as they rolled down the road. She was used to Fate or Green Lantern being their source of transportation that it was almost charming to have to rely on a car again. She imagined the strange sight that the passing motorists were greeted with, as Vigilante piloted their car, Mr. America in the passenger's seat. Libby, Johnny and Star-Spangled Kid were in the back, enjoying a lack of elbow space.

They were on the way to Knoxville. Agent Faraday had summoned the Squadron after a series of earthquakes in the eastern states had raised the alarms. A number of rail lines had been damaged, along with a military depot in Kentucky that was mostly destroyed. A seismologist named Professor Moro noted a handful of possible origin points for the quakes that the Squadron was to investigate. Green Lantern was taking a team to Ohio, while Black Canary was en route to Georgia. That left Liberty Belle and her group to head to Tennessee. Johnny was pleased to be in her group. The Kid had protested against not being sent with his partner, Stripsey, but Faraday ignored it.

"Don't you worry pal, we're nearly there," said Vigilante. The man had a thick drawl that took adjusting to. His cowboy schtick wasn't purely for show. He drove like a fiend, taking corner's fast and weaving around cars that weren't up to his speed.

They reached Knoxville in the mid-afternoon, the sky a dull blue overhead, the clouds by the mountains unable to make up their mind about whether or not they would offer up some rain. It wasn't a pretty city, the piles of refuse by the sidewalks confirmed that. There was a thin layer of soot over most surfaces, an almost imperceptible ash fall. It was clear that the city hadn't fully escaped the Depression's shadow, with boarded up businesses every few blocks.

There were lines at the bus stations, men in uniforms, their belongings in bundles slung over their shoulders. Girlfriends and wives said their goodbyes, while children passed out cigarettes from cases. Posters on every street urged thrift and caution.

Their first stop was the police station. Faraday had promised that the G-men would phone ahead, let the locals know the Squadron was on its way, but from the queer expressions the cops had on their faces when the group entered the building, that hadn't been done.

"You missed Halloween by a good while," said one of the cops. Another whistled loudly.

"Gentlemen, we're with the All-Star Squadron. We need to talk to your chief," said Libby, doing her best to sound assertive.

The chief was out, but they were granted an audience with a portly captain by the name of Hank Baker. He made no effort to hide his bemusement with their colorful costumes, and at least Libby's discomfort.

"Make yourselves comfortable," Captain Baker said. He leaned well back into a chair used to his frame. Libby, the Kid and Mr. America took his offer, while Johnny leaned by the door. Vigilante had peeled off at some point. Libby felt a pang of annoyance at him for failing to notice till now.

"Can't say that Knoxville's had the pleasure to have any of you 'heroes'. What brings you to our fine city?" said Baker.

"We're looking into a matter of national security," said Libby.

"Oh, is that right?"

"The earthquakes," said Star-Spangled Kid, leaping in before Libby could continue. "We're looking for the source of them."

Baker's confusion prompted Libby. "We have information that suggests the recent quakes are tied to here."

"We haven't really had any quakes this year. Few folks reported a tremble a day or two ago."

"That tremble here was a bigger shake further north. Took down a few rail lines," said Libby.

"And you think it started here?" said Baker.

The Kid nodded enthusiastically. Libby could tell this man thought they were full of it.

"Sir," said Mr. America, clearly unpleased with how the conversation was going, "have you had any unusual activity in the past few weeks? Anything that you can think of?"

Baker rubbed his chin. He sat up in his chair. "Fraid not. Been quiet, cept for the war and all."

"There's nothing?" repeated Mr. America.

"Nothing."

A bit of silence passed. Baker spoke up again. "I hoped you was here for the hooded man."

"Hooded man?" said Star-Spangled Kid.

"Nasty feller that one. Done put five of our citizens in the hospital."

Libby hadn't heard of any villains from around here. This part of the country was a blank for her.

"Sounds like a real menace," said Mr. America.

"He is indeed. We've had a reward out on him, but he keeps slippin by. Couple of the boys had wondered if any of you masked types would come and take care of one of your own."

"We might be able to help," said the Kid. He looked at Libby with eager eyes.

"That'd be great.." started Baker.

"Say," said Johnny Quick, cutting the man off. "These fellas that were put in the hospital..any of em in the Klan?"

Baker didn't respond immediately, but Libby sensed the way the atmosphere changed. All it took was a slight pinching around the police captain's eyes. Johnny for his part didn't waver one bit.

"No sir. Sounds like you've heard of this criminal before," said Baker.

"Starting to ring a bell. But, the way I've heard it, he only goes after the Klan."

"Sounds like you've heard it wrong."

Libby stood up abruptly. "Captain, thank you for your time. We'll do our best to conduct our investigation and be out of your way."

Baker and Johnny finished off their staring match. "My pleasure ma'am. Stay safe out there."

On the way out the door, Libby heard Mr. America exchange a few more words with the man. On the steps outside the station, once they were out of earshot, Libby elbowed Johnny.

"Why'd you have to anger him?"

"Come on. Not like he was helping us," said Johnny. "Besides, he's asking us to hunt down one of our own."

"Really?" said the Kid.

"Yeah. His hooded man's been busting up Klan gatherings for months now. A one man war they're calling it. Least the papers that print anything."

"Why would they want to catch him?" said the Kid. "Isn't the Klan a bunch of crooks?"

Johnny let out a laugh without any joy. "Kid, look around you. Baker knows which side he's on."

The signs weren't hard to spot. White only. No colored. A city split in two, like so many cities. Libby wanted to think it was better back home, but she knew Philly was the same, it just pretended otherwise.

Mr. America caught up with them on the sidewalk, off the main path where they would attract attention.

"Excellent work Johnny. Now we've got no leads."

"The professor said," started the Kid.

"The professor gave us a general location. General. You know how much territory it could cover? Assuming we're in the right spot at all."

"Johnny could scout around," said Libby.

Mr. America shook his head. "I think your time with the JSA's given you unrealistic expectations."

"Excuse me?" said Johnny.

"I've done my homework. No offense pal, but you're no Flash. We got the cheap version."

"Who're you calling cheap? You're not even the only person in the Squadron with a whip!"

Libby stepped between the two men, wanting to divert this tension. "We don't need to argue."

"Tell that to him," said Johnny.

"It's still early. Johnny can scout. In stages. And there's other leads to check."

"Like any seismologists," said the Star-Spangled Kid.

"Exactly."

Johnny didn't look thrilled, but he also didn't look like he was going to take a swing at the man. Mr. America sighed and nodded.

"Howdy," said that thick drawl that signaled Vigilante's return. "What did I step into?"

"Team bonding," said Johnny to Mr. America's dismay.

Libby ignored his jab. "The police were a dead end. We're planning the next steps."

"Where did you run off to?" said the Kid.

"Did some digging of my own. Coulda told you them cops were gonna be more useless than an umbrella in a tornado."

"Why didn't you?" said Libby.

Vigilante leaned on the wall. "They wouldn't take too kindly to us rolling into town and not payin them a visit. Been a while since I came through here, but it ain't changed much. There's a few folks that's talk."

"And?" said Johnny.

"Lotta nothing. And maybe a bit of something."

"Get on with it man," said Mr. America.

"Fella knows a fella who seen a group of fellas making runs out to Cherokee Bluff. Lotta gear, lotta folk from out of town."

Mr. America wasn't convinced.

"That's it?"

"I never said it was for certain."

"Still, it's more than we had," said Libby.

"Will we check it out?" said Star-Spangled Kid.

Afternoon had melted into evening. If they were going to go trawling through unknown territory, it would be better in the day.

"Tomorrow. Best to pack it in for today."

"But…" said the Kid.

"Listen to the lady," said Johnny. "Trust the guy with super speed when I say running in blind isn't usually the best option."


They found a decent motel on the way to the bluffs. If the night manager was surprised by customers in costume, he didn't show it. The Kid paid for the rooms, with a few bills he kept in his belt. Libby got the sense he was from money with how casually he unrolled the stack.

The room wasn't great, but it would do. Libby had the foresight to pack a few of her things in the Ford when she knew it would be a longer trip. Even as she prepared to go to bed, she kept her mask on. It was a strange thing having a secret identity, or at least it should have been. It was already becoming an unconscious consideration, a simple fact about her life that colored so many decisions.

The room's radio cycled through local matters, updates on the war. Libby listened for anything about her teammates. There was no mention of the other groups searching for the source of the quakes, though there was a story about Superman fighting a man calling himself Colonel Future. And Wonder Woman squaring off against a giant lady in Gateway. If there was an element of her new life that remained utterly uncanny to Libby, it was that she walked the same halls as gods. There should be something sacrilegious about that thought, but it was undeniable. Many of her companions forced a reckoning with the fundamental ideas of what was possible in the world, a continual reevaluation of those terms. Even Libby, with her comparatively humble powers, was a breach of the established order. Such weighty thoughts assailed her mind as she ventured toward sleep in a bed that was too stiff.


A byproduct of John Chamber's job, his proper job, not this costumed business, was that he viewed everything in terms of how it would be framed behind the camera. The proper arrangement for lighting, field of view, composition. He wasn't a filmmaker like those Hollywood directors he once aspired to be, but he treated his newsreels with as much care. His mind was constantly editing events, figuring out the correct sequence from which they would arrive with the most clarity. The required impact. It didn't help that his powers gave him the ability to perform these assessments at a rate that exceeded any ordinary person. At least, when they were active.

John laid on the bed, pillow over his face, to avoid the light from the motel sign that streamed through the blinds. He knew that wasn't all that was keeping him up. It was petty, but he replayed the argument with Mr. America, came up with versions where he came out looking smarter. Correct. Not the stubborn man that he was. He didn't know if this was for his own benefit or to look better for his female companion. She might give the impression of a lack of confidence, but John could see the steel underneath. That woman was solid as they come, the sort that only gets forged in real heat. It was what made her so attractive. He had nearly jumped with joy when he got assigned to her group, like a schoolboy getting to sit next to his crush.

His other companions were a more mixed experience. Vigilante seemed alright. Star-Spangled Kid was enthusiastic enough for all of them, if a bit undercooked on the maturity side. You could tell he kept turning to say something to his partner, only to be disappointed when he remembered he wasn't there. Mr. America was a pill. Ever since the first meeting of the Squadron all John had seen from him was his love of the spotlight. The man was no stranger to the sound of his own voice. The annoying part was that he had the accolades to back it up. A spy ring in Virginia, a criminal outfit in Dallas. Gunrunners in California. Hell, John could remember splicing together the newsreel of the zeppelin rescue back in 1940. He wondered if that G-man, Faraday, knew what he was doing when he cobbled them together for this mission. Or if he was just pulling names out of a hat.

He gave up on sleep for the time being, heading to the bathroom to wash his face. There was a rhythmic dribble of water from the pipes underneath the sink. The cool water felt good on his face, as he stared at his reflection in the mirror.

John only caught it because of the click. The click that meant a hammer being cocked. Whoever it was, they were quiet. Must have gotten a spare key from the front desk. Or maybe John left it unlocked. Watts was always giving him grief for doing that back at the office.

"Hello?" said John.

"Don't turn around," said the voice. Locals, judging by the accent. Far enough back that he couldn't just spin around and grab the gun. Or at least not if he was normal.

"Alright," said John, hands raised in contrition. "What now?"

"You got any last words now's the time fella."

John smiled. He knew just what to say.

"3X2(9YZ)4A."


Libby was up by the time the first firebomb came through the window, bursting on the motel flooring and spilling flames that licked all the way to the bed. It would have trapped her in the room, had she not let loose a burst of her sonics that blew a hole in the back wall. The night was alive with shouts, gunshots and the screams of the other guests. A car roared away, fleeing the scene.

Their assailants were a bunch of men in bag masks, carrying handguns and rifles, shotguns and knives. Liberty Belle made short work of those that stood before her. Streaks of red and yellow around the fight told her that Johnny was up and about. One of them nearly had the drop on her as she broke another man's wrist, till his gun was yanked away with the crack of a whip. Another was felled with a gunshot to the foot that left him rolling in pain. Mr. America joined the melee, with Vigilante fire his six shooters with a whoop. It was over within the next few minutes.

Vigilante tipped his hat to her. "You alright miss?"

"My knuckles are sore, but I'm fine." She pointed at the flames climbing her room, threatening the other ones. "That's a problem though."

As if on cue, Johnny came steaming past, with what must have been dozens of buckets of water, all dumped and refilled in seconds, till the flames flickered out. He stopped by the two of them, knocking her hair back with his arrival.

"Figured we could spare the fire department the work."

Vigilante crouched down by the pile of bodies. 'Let's take a peek."

While he did that, Mr. America joined them.

"I think we may be onto something," said Johnny.

"Or we've angered the locals," said Mr. America.

"Could be both," said Vigilante. "Take a look. Our crumb here was at the police station."

"No use hanging around here anymore," said Mr. America. "May as well check out these bluffs."

The car was fortunately undamaged. The men started for it. Libby remained still, snagged on a sudden realization.

"You coming Belle?" said Johnny.

Her face must have given it away, because he halted too when he saw her.

"What's the matter?"

"Where's the Star-Spangled Kid?"


They made it to the bluffs before dawn. From here, one could see the whole city, with the Tennessee River snaking its way through the landscape. Vigilante found tire tracks and spent cigarettes, which led deeper into the woods, which were dense enough to make reconnaissance from Johnny a risky idea. They followed their tracker, Libby potently aware that they were headed for a trap.

"I still think we should have called for backup," said Mr. America, pushing aside a bundle of spindly branches.

Libby had no real response. It had been panic over their lost companion that caused her to act before they could take any proper precautions.

"Where's your faith? I didn't think Mr. America was one for nerves," said Johnny.

"I'm not one for getting myself killed. Forgive me if our little group doesn't inspire much confidence. It's clear they thought the other sites were more promising."

It wasn't the first time Libby had that thought. The big guns were elsewhere. Faraday knew her, but to the others she was untested. Unknown. Maybe this was a ploy to earn respect in the Squadron. If so, it wasn't going as well as they hoped.

"Don't act so above it all pal. That ambush was a curve for you too," said Johnny.

"The result of our bungled arrival, no doubt."

"Is that your superpower? Unfettered criticism?"

"Says the second rate speedster."

"Still better than your whip."

"Enough!" said Libby. The canopy overhead rustled as a pair of birds took flight, disturbed by the argument.

"Infighting won't save Star-Spangled Kid. Or stop the quakes." Johnny eyed the ground, while Mr. America remained annoyed, his jaw set rigid. It had only postponed their bickering.

Vigilante cleared his throat. "If y'all are done, I got something worth taking a peep at."

Nothing stood out to Libby till the cowboy pointed it out. There was a seam along the rocks that melded into the slope of the bluffs. A seam that made up a mesh net, dotted with vegetation, serving as a cloak. When he gave it a careful tug, the net came loose, unveiling a cave mouth that stretched back into the earth.

"Reckon this is it. Or a moonshiners hideout."

Libby followed him past the net cover. He lit a match. Mr. America sighed and pulled out a narrow flashlight. The beam was thin against the gaping darkness, but it would have to do. Cautiously, the group descended, their boots scraping over the rough stone. The air was stale, musty with the life that only grows apart from the sun's gaze. Libby wouldn't want to be caught down here in a rain storm. A loose pebble clattered down the steep slope, echoing off into the inky black.

Eventually, there was a glow, dim at first, then more clear as they made their way down into the cave. There was an electric lamp, bolted crudely into the stone, with a cable loosely hung that led along to another one. The walls of the cavern were smoother here. They kept along the path of the lights. Further evidence of human tampering came in the form of a split series of what had to be artificial hallways.

"Which way?' said Johnny.

A distant cry gave them their answer. Libby couldn't bear to think of what could be happening to her lost teammate. Her mind continued to skirt against the trials of her flight in Europe and retreat. Not again. Not here.

The path curled out into a wider chamber, one with a set of stairs that wound downwards, towards a well lit base. Wooden and metal crates sat at the bottom, most closed, a few opened. Crushed beer cans and bits of loose trash dotted the cave floor. The cry rebounded out again, from one of the lower pathways.

"We're close," said Libby.

Mr. America shook his head. "I don't like the look of this. Why haven't we seen anyone?"

"Coulda lost most of their men back at the motel," said Johnny.

"Unlikely."

Libby started forth. "Doesn't matter. We gotta get our man."

They were midway through the lower path when Libby heard a sound like a jackhammer. There was a sharp crack above and she felt Johnny's hands seize her waist, pushing her forth. Mr. America and Vigilante cursed behind them, then there was a wave of rock shards and dirt that rolled over her.

"What?" she said, having fallen on her knees, Johnny beside her.

"Cave-in," he said, already up and inspecting the fallen rock.

The path back was blocked. She called out to the others but no one answered. Then there was a burst of gunfire, muffled by the debris.

"Mr. America! Vigilante?" she called again.

Nothing.

"No, no, no," Libby said. It couldn't go like this.

"Liberty Belle," said Johnny. There was a flat quality to his voice that she didn't like.

She turned to him. The hall came to a round, barren cavern. One without any exits.

"No," she whispered.

"We're trapped."


Sylvester wasn't certain of much in his current predicament, but he knew that Stripsey was going to be able to use it against him for ages to come. He had been stepping out of his motel room, eager to join the fight when someone cold cocked him with the butt of their gun. The next sight that welcomed him was a scene right out of the latest Hollywood horror schlock. A subterranean lair replete with ominous lighting, a host of masked henchmen and at least one mad scientist.

"I ask you again, who are your companions?" said the German. Maybe they were all Germans, minus the few that had spoken with a clear southern twang. The German interrogating him appeared to be the head of this enterprise, a middle-aged fella with a monocle and a sorely lacking sense of humor.

"I don't know."

"Hit him again."

One of the good ol'boys gave Sylvester a gift to his gut. What was one more bruise to go with all the others? He thanked Stripsey for the boxing lessons. A few months ago a single one of these hits would have been lights out for him.

"I..I'm telling you Klaus, you're man knocked all the sense right out of my head. I don't remember."

If the German grimaced, he couldn't tell. The man had as sour a face as any he'd seen. Didn't even appear to take pleasure in Sylvester's plight.

"You want me to hit him?" said the thug.

"No. It has not loosened his tongue thus far and unfortunately he is worth more to us alive at this stage. Take him away."

The thug and a buddy lifted the seat Sylvester was strapped to, carrying him off like a piece of furniture. He heard the German muttering something to another underling about final preparations. With his belt the Star-Spangled Kid could've easily broken out of his bindings, but his captors had the foresight to confiscate it. He thanked his lucky stars that the adhesive on his mask was tricky enough that they had clearly given up on trying to pull it off. Sylvester doubted any of them knew the Pembertons, but it was better to not take that risk.

"You know boys, everything will go much better for you if you let me go now. You do that and I can let my pals know to go easy on you."

One of his captors guffawed. "Listen to this bum. Thinks he's getting out of here."

"Listen buddy," said Sylvester. "This is your first time up against a real deal costumed her, but I can assure you it won't end well for you. My teammates are on their way right now."

"You mean the ones that got smushed by the cave-in a little while ago?"

Sylvester felt something catch in his throat. He had felt a rumble.

"Finally lost his voice."


It had been what felt like an hour since the tunnel collapsed, though Libby couldn't be sure. The rubble was too tightly packed, the walls of the tunnel too weak to support any attempt to dislodge them with her power. All that would accomplish is bringing down the rest of the ceiling on them. They had found no other exits, no hidden routes. By all appearances, the chamber was barren. It didn't help that the sole light flicked on and off with little consistency. Still, Libby hadn't stopped searching every surface for a way out.

"You're going to tire yourself out doing that," said Johnny. He was leaned against the wall, knees pulled near his chest.

She ignored him. This wouldn't be her grave. Not when her father's killer still lived.

"I'm serious. Conserve your energy."

"We're not getting out of here sitting around," she said.

"We don't know what happened to the others. Maybe Vigilante and Mr. America got out, went for backup."

"That's not something we can rely on."

"You're right. But, it won't hurt you to take a moment to breathe. You've been downright frantic the whole time."

Libby opened her mouth to argue, but she stopped herself. Her hands were shaking. A break could be worthwhile. Give her time to think. She joined him on the wall, the stone rough and cool.

"There you go."

"I'm surprised you're so calm. I figured a man with your speed wouldn't know how to slow down."

"First thing I had to learn when I got my powers. If I couldn't handle that I'd go nuts. Speed is a hell of a rush till you have to deal with normal people."

She noticed his face was coated in beads of sweat. He looked worn down.

"Are you alright?" she said.

"Don't I look just peachy?" He chuckled. "Had to switch off my powers for a bit. I was running too hot."

Libby cocked her head to the side. "Switch them off?"

"I control when they work. Problem is I can't maintain it forever. My body can't handle it."

Libby thought of the strain her powers could put on her. Was this common? Were they not meant to handle such abilities? Of course, then you had people like Wonder Woman, who used their powers with such ease you could tell there was never a life where they weren't exceptional.

Johnny clearly saw the concern on her face. "Don't worry, I'll be able to get going again when duty calls."

The light flicked off again, this time for a longer stretch. It was so black that she couldn't see her legs in front of her.

"Not how I thought this mission would go," said Johnny. "Though there are worse people to be trapped with."

"We'll see if you're still saying that in another couple of hours."

"I mean it. I can tell from the way those gears are turning in your head that you'll have us out of here."

Libby smiled in the dark. She hoped his faith wasn't misplaced.

They sat in silence for a time, the quiet punctuated only with the rhythmic sound of their breaths. Through the rick, Libby could feel light tremors in some distant part of the caves. Mr. America and Vigilante? Or the people they were hunting?

Libby might not have noticed the tickle in her throat till Johnny coughed. The air became thick and soupy, like trying to breathe through a wet cloth. Each attempt was harder than the last.

"Johnny?" she wheezed through the pain.

"Still..here," he said.

The light flickered for only a moment. Just enough to see that a dense fog had seeped into the cave. Libby's mind raced back to Dunkirk. To the man who could become a cloud of fog.

"We're under attack," she said through the coughing. Her throat was burning. "The fog is a per-".

A hand clasped her throat, choking her. The light came on again. Nebel, the German assassin, was above her, his lower body a grey mist that blanketed the cavern. He had a hateful smile plastered on his face as he strangled her. Libby swung her fist to break his grip, but it passed through his jaw, pushing aside coils of fog.

"Liberty Belle," said Johnny, who staggered to his feet. He uttered some combination of numbers, then vanished into a burst of speed. His efforts were in vain as well, his blows ineffectual against Nebel.

Her vision was beginning to burst with spots of blackness, her heart racing. If she couldn't hurt him directly, maybe his senses were still vulnerable. Libby sent out a wave of sonic energy that rocked the cave. She heard Johnny grunt from the impact, but it couldn't be helped in such a confined space. Nebel grimaced when it washed over him, though his grip didn't lose its hold.

Libby honed in on the space in front of her, all her concentration directed on the Nazi. She envisioned a bubble of sound, centered on his head. The vibrations intensified in the chamber, the spill-over causing hunks of rock to crumble from the walls. She could hear Johnny shouting somewhere, but it was impossible to hear over the deafening roar of her sound bubble. Nebel grit his teeth, his face shuddering from the force. His fingers lost their hold, his goggles cracked and split apart. Libby took the opportunity and rolled away from him.

Their foe managed to slither from the epicenter of the sonic barrage, transforming into a blanket of fog that rose up around their waists. He was going to suffocate them all the same.

"What now?" shouted Johnny.

Libby thought of a maneuver she had watched the Flash do. Of course, he did it in the open.

"Create a vortex."

"What?"

"Run around the cave and create a vortex."

"But it'll hit you too.."

"Do it!" shouted Libby.

Johnny Quick complied, his form blending into a beam of red and yellow as a wind formed in the chamber, one that began to pull and pull toward the middle. Libby's fingers clasped over the cave walls, looking with increasing desperation for any hold. At last, they found one and she braced herself against the wind.

Nebel wasn't so lucky, the fog being sucked into the miniature twister. Over the wind, Libby could hear shouts, coming from the ball of mist that was trapped in the tunnel of air. Johnny continued his circular dash, till Libby's arms felt as though they were being ripped from their sockets.

When she began to lose her grip, the wind died down. A narrow trickle of fog crawled away, unable to continue its attack. Johnny was bracing himself against the cave wall, panting, his costume soaked.

"I gotta take a moment…" he said.

"It's alright," Libby said, supporting him. "I think you stopped him." She considered sharing that she had encountered Nebel before, but that would raise questions she wasn't ready to answer.

"Look," said Johnny, holding up a quivering arm.

Libby followed his direction, to see the fog retreating into a gap in the cave. Libby went over to the slit. It was narrow, hidden by an outcropping of rock, but she was able to fit her body in it.

"It's a passage," she said.

Johnny didn't look that enthused about their prospects. "I don't know if I can fit in there."

"It's all we have."

She crouched down, then flattened herself till she was on her stomach, crawling through the passage. Sharp edges stabbed and pulled on her limbs, but she kept going. The tunnel was uncomfortably tight, tight enough that Libby understood that if she tried to think about her present circumstances she would be gripped by fear. Yet, there was an almost invitational quality to the crawl, a feeling that this existed for a reason. This was no artificial passage like so much of what they had been through, instead the mark of errant geologic currents, a natural escape. Behind her, Libby could hear Johnny grunt and curse. It was dark, though not pitch black. A trickle of light filled the passage, from some distant place. The fading whiff of the fog remained in the tunnel. If Nebel could regroup while they were down here, it would be the end of them.

"I think I see an exit," said Libby. Johnny grunted a response.

They were disgorged into a cramped, dark room, packed with covered bins and loose equipment. A stinging pain in her side spoke of a reminder of the long crawl, her costume torn all over. Johnny was worse, having been forced to push his larger frame through the grinder.

Voices from beyond the room made them seek cover. German and English. The foreign and local mixing in these caverns. Through the cracked door, Libby could see a larger room. Men were hauling boxes and fuel canisters. Some loaded guns as they spoke.

"...don't know why we have to go find em. What's the point of having those freaks if they can't do the goddamn job?" said one of the gunmen. Local boy from the accent.

"Captain Vurm doesn't want to take any chances. Not now. Bad enough they found us in the first place," said another. "I wouldn't take your chances with disappointing him. He's feelin mighty evil after the screw ups at the motel."

It sounded like this Verm was the man to see. Libby took comfort in the fact that if they were readying for a fight it meant that Vigilante and Mr. America were likely among the living. She prayed that the Kid was the same.

They waited till the gunmen cleared the room to make their move. Johnny had the remaining henchmen tied up in the time it took Libby to stand up, gags around their mouths.

"Time to question them?" said Johnny.

"Not worth it. Better to leave them and look for the others."

One of the men, a man with greasy hair stuck to his forehead made a huge fuss. Libby and Johnny exchanged a look. There was a panic in the man's eyes that convinced her to move to take out the gag.

"Listen pal. You try to shout for help and that gag'll be back on your mouth in no time."

The man nodded. Libby pulled it out of his mouth.

"You can't leave us here. The boss..Captain Vurm...he's gonna bring this place down."

"How?" said Libby.

"His machine. We been preparing to leave ever since y'all showed up. He'll set it to run wild and clear out. Things got enough juice to collapse this whole cave system. And set off a buncha other quakes to boot."

"Where is he?"

"Down the hall a ways. Take a right, then a left, then there's a big old cavern where's he's keepin it."

"And the Star-Spangled Kid? The one in blue?"

"I don't know where he got taken."

Libby stared at Johnny, who rubbed his jaw pensively.

"Please, don't leave us here. We'll die," said the man.

"We won't," said Libby.

She wondered if that was a promise she could keep.


Sylvester knew the right kind of trouble was headed his way when he heard the shouts from outside his cell. Noise bounced off every bit of the caves, giving the whip cracks and gunfire an extra boost. The end of it was sudden, accompanied only by the footfall of men with purpose. The door swung open.

"You done lazin about?" said Vigilante.

"Hurry up," said Mr. America, his back to them, watching the hall. "More are coming."

Vigilante undid his bindings.

"Thanks. The others?" said Sylvester.

"Dunno. Got separated. We'll find em too," said Vigilante.

Star-Spangled Kid rubbed his wrists, where they were raw from the bindings. "You find my belt?"

"Nope."

A shame. There was a rumble somewhere deeper into the complex.

"They're almost here," said Mr. America, whip in hand.

"You any good without it?" said Vigilante. "Or you a one trick pony?"

Sylvester thought of all the sparring matches with Stripsey. The amount of times he hit the mat before his friend made him get up and try it again.

"Guess we're about to find out," said Sylvester.


The advantage of being trapped in the cave-in was that the henchmen didn't expect to be ambushed from behind. Libby and Johnny cleared their path room by room, hallway by hallway against unprepared goons. The closer they got to the main cavern that the man had described, the more she could feel the vibrations in the air. There was a pressure in her temples, one that was clearly having a greater effect on Johnny.

They took the final turn through a wide doorway into an enormous cavern, braced around its sides with thick steel beams. The source of the hum was a colossal piece of machinery, a conical device that was ringed with looping green and blue lights, its base planted in the earth. A man in an officer's uniform with a monocle stood on a platform overlooking the machine, his hands at work on a blinking console.

"That's gotta be Vurm," whispered Johnny.

Before they could act, a veil of darkness fell around them. Nacht. Libby was blindsided by a series of strikes, while she heard Johnny struggle with an assailant of her own. Libby was driven back to the railing, at risk of being pushed over it. She blocked the attacks as best she could, but it was impossible to know their direction.

Libby released a sonic blast, one that stunned her attacker. Unfortunately, the recoil caused her to lose her footing and she fell over the railing, landing painfully on the metal grating below. The plume of shadow and fog continued to roil overhead.

"Our intruders reveal themselves at last," said Vurm from his machines. A group of five gunmen surrounded her, three Germans and two Americans from the looks of it.

"You're not escaping here," said Libby.

Vurm continued his work at the console, not deigning to look at her. "Your current predicament would suggest otherwise. My seismic machine will end your country's war effort in its infancy."

Libby played for time. "Even if we die, the others will stop you."

"That is where you are wrong." The machine roared in the background, so much so that Vurm had to shout to be overheard. "This is merely the first domino to fall. It is not a process that can be interrupted."

"Have you told your local recruits that you intend to wreck their homeland?"

"They understand sacrifices are to be made in order to keep this country in the hands of its rightful owners."

On the platforms above, Libby could see Johnny putting up a fight with Nacht and Nebel. There was no way she could take down all of the gunmen trained on her in one hit, not even with a sonic attack.

"Do they know that their home will go down with the quakes? That Knoxville won't be spared?"

One of the Americans in the group glanced back at Vurm.

"Lies," Vurm said.

"Why trust a German? He isn't staying around to live in the aftermath."

"Don't listen to her," said one of the Germans.

"Captain, you promise?" said one of them.

"She is messing with you. Shoot her."

It wasn't much, but there was enough of a delay in their response that Libby sprung. She kicked out the legs of one of the Germans. The first shot missed, the second creased her shoulder. She blasted them with sonics. It wasn't enough. One of the Americans got a bead on her, his pistol level with her head.

It took a second to recognize that the gunshot that rang out wasn't for her. The pistol spat sparks as it was shot out of the man's hand. Libby needed no invitation to sock the man in his jaw.

"Mind if we join this rodeo?" said Vigilante.

Mr. America and the Star-Spangled Kid vaulted over the railing to join Libby as a swarm of henchman came flooding up the stairs, forming a human wall between them and Vurm. The Kid sailed into the lead goon, his foot colliding squarely with the man's jaw.

"Thought we lost you," said the Kid.

"I could say the same," said Libby.

The whip caught an oncoming German by the neck and sent him rolling down the stairs, taking down a column of men. "Save it for later," said Mr. America. "We've got to stop him."

The machines roar was immense, the walls of the cavern shaking violently. Chunks of rock sheared off periodically, crashing onto the metal platforms. Vurm remained engrossed in his operations, confident that his forces would overwhelm the group. Vigilante tried to shoot the console, but there was some force protecting it. His bullets simply stopped in mid-air, before falling to the ground.

"We're gonna have to handle him up close," shouted the cowboy over the din.

There was a crash above. Nebel hit the platform beside Libby, his goggles properly smashed. The cloud of black wavered as a red and yellow streak zipped in and out of it.

Libby and the Star-Spangled Kid cut through the brawl till they were on Vurm's level. Libby delivered an elbow to the back of the last German's head. Behind them, Mr. America and Vigilante kept the remainder of the crowd busy. The Kid bull-rushed Vurm from behind, assured of his surprise. He was repulsed by a warble in the air, the same sort that stopped the bullets.

"Ouch, that smarts," said the Kid, nursing his arm.

Libby picked up a fallen rock and threw it at Vurm. It hit the same invisible field. The man didn't so much as pay them a passing look.

"Running out of time," shouted Mr. America.

The machine had sunken deeper into the earth, its vibrations forcing Libby's teeth to chatter. The air was hotter this close to it.

Libby neared the invisible field. She closed her eyes.

"What are you doing Liberty Belle?" said Star-Spangled Kid.

She ignored him. She put out her palm. It made contact with the field, pain rupturing through her nerves. She resisted the urge to pull back. Instead, Libby felt the vibration, searching for its pattern. It was there, like a drum beat. She envisioned matching it and plucking it apart. There was no sign of it, but she could feel a hole forming in the field.

"Star-Spangled Kid. Come through, right beside me."

"But…"

"Do it!"

Libby didn't dare move, aware that it could collapse at any time. The Kid bolted past her, his head low. Vurm's ignorance proved a vulnerability as the German didn't notice the patriotic hero till he was right beside him. His intellect may have been mighty, but his jaw may as well have been made of glass for how quickly the Kid laid him out.

"Take that you Nazi hack," shouted the Star-Spangled Kid.

"Kid!" said Libby.

"Right, right," said the Kid.

He began his own work on the console. The field dissipated. Her hands were tender and jittery. She joined him at the console.

"Can you stop it?"

"Unfortunately, he was right about one thing. Now that it's set in motion that can't be undone."

The machine continued to pulse with light and power, boring deeper and deeper.

"Is there nothing?" said Libby.

"I can limit it though. Keep it centered on this cave and nothing else."

"Then do it."

"Already done. But all that energy means it's going to come down fast. Be ready to ru-"

Star-Spangled Kid cried out in pain as the gunshot clipped his arm. Libby whirled around and kicked at Vurm, who was up again. Her foot made contact with his torso, causing him to stumble back, to the other edge of the platform.

"If I cannot kill your country, I will at least kill you," said Vurm.

The whip cracked as it tangled around Vurm's arm. Mr. America yanked it hard, causing his follow-up shot to go wide. The men crashed into one another, plummeting from the platform, down towards the base of the cave.

"Mr. America," cried Libby, but the man was out of sight.

Beside her, Star-Spangled Kid moaned, blood oozing from his wound. She ripped some of the fabric from her costume, binding up the injury.

"Did you manage it?"

"Yeah...we don't have long."

As if on cue, a hunk of the ceiling bounced off the tip of the machine, before smashing through the edge of the platform. Libby and the Kid slid towards the void till she caught herself on the railing, the Kid's arm in the other hand. He yelped with pain at being grabbed by his injured limb. With difficulty, she pulled them both back to stable ground. Supporting him, they made their way back up, over the piles of unconscious and injured bodies.

The cavern's walls were cracking and falling apart.

"Seems out time is up," said Vigilante. He grabbed Star-Spangled Kid, slinging him over his back. "Hold on now. Where's Mr. America?"

"He fell. Down there." Libby almost could't bear to look back, where the rubble was raining down.

"Ah hell."

"What about them?" said the Kid, pointing at the bodies of their foes.

"Kid we ain't got time for them."

"We can't leave them to die like this." He was right. Libby had promised those men earlier that they would save them too.

Libby picked up the nearest one, straining under the weight.

"We can't get all of em," said Vigilante.

"Maybe I can," said Johnny Quick. He was above them, his costume ripped, his lip swollen. Nacht lay at his feet.

"You sure?" said Libby. She could see how winded he was already.

"Just get yourselves out. I'll handle them." He didn't wait for a response, turning into a blur of color and wind. Bodies vanished around them.

"You waitin for an invitation? Let's hightail it," said Vigilante.


Tex Thompson's ankle was wracked with shooting pain. The fall wasn't planned, a desperate play. The bottom of the cavern was rapidly becoming a deathtrap as rocks smashed into the ground, the machine quite literally shaking itself apart. It would take too long to try and climb back up the struts, which were falling themselves. It could not end here. Mr. America was made for greater things than dying in some hole in Tennessee.

Next to him, Vurm hacked from the dust and debris. The German was pinned beneath some rocks, his monocle cracked, his forehead bloody.

"You have killed us, you fool."

"There another way out of here?" said Mr. America.

"Yes. Yes, there is an escape route, assuming it has not already been blocked. Get me out of here and I can show you."

Mr. America put his whole weight into shoving aside the rocks on top of Vurm. They awkwardly slid off of him, freeing the man. The two adversaries limped through the downpour of stone and earth, till the German slid aside a fake wall. They had no time to celebrate, as even the hidden passage was in danger of collapse, fissures opening in its sides.

They scrambled upward, over roughly carved stairs, clambering up crudely implanted ladders, further and further up as the path behind was undone by the seismic reckoning. Tex ignored the throbbing in his ankle as he pressed ahead, careful not to let Vurm get any distance on him.

At last, they reached a long climb that brought them to the surface, the golden light of the afternoon greeting them. It was another section of the bluffs, on a hill that could see Knoxville through the trees. Tex and Vurm caught their breath, still reeling from their flight.

Vurm let out a wheezing laugh. "To think I would be saved by an American. And such a famous one at that. It is a pleasure to meet you Mr. Thompson."

In the chaos, Tex hadn't realized how badly his mask was torn. Only a shred still covered his face.

"You are something of a celebrity in our circles," continued Vurm. "A shame your campaign failed, but it was not without merit. I would not have been able to persuade so many of your countrymen to assist me without men like you."

Below them, the last of the escape passage was shaking apart.

"I shall relay to our superiors how helpful you were in my escape," said Vurm.

Tex kicked Vurm square in the back. The man didn't make a noise, as if he was too surprised for anything else as he plummeted back into the tunnel. The last sight of him vanished into the churn of earth and stone below. Tex took one last look down the hole, then ripped off a chunk of his tattered cape, fashioning it into a makeshift mask.

Mr. America hiked off to find the others.


Johnny didn't remember how he ended up in the hospital, sharing a room with Star-Spangled Kid. His last memory was of bursting out of the cave, the final batch of German henchman in his arms, his lungs on fire, his muscles beyond tired. He remembered seeing Liberty Belle's face as he flew through the air.

She was here now in the room, asleep in a chair. The Kid was waited on by his partner Stripsey, who endlessly accosted him for going off and nearly getting killed on his first adventure apart. The nurses had the courtesy to leave his mask on, a fresh costume waiting by Liberty Belle, who stirred at last.

"You get tired of watching me sleep?" said Johnny.

"I could say the same," replied Liberty Belle.

She filled him in on how the quakes had been contained. The complex was gone, reduced to rubble, but so was the seismic machine. Mr. America had turned up alive. Other members of the Squadron had arrived to make sure any loose ends got tied up, though Liberty Belle sounded doubtful on that end.

"And Vurm?"

"Gone. Probably dead. Mr. America lost him in the collapse."

"Wish I could say that troubled me more, but it doesn't," said Johnny.

"I know what you mean," said Libby softly.

"Though it woulda been nice to know how he got set up here," said Johnny.

Nacht and Nebel had slipped away in the confusion of the rescue. To say nothing of the other people that no doubt aided Vurm and his men in their plan.

"Some mission," said Johnny.

"No kidding," said Liberty Belle.

"This gonna be how it is every time you're in charge?"

"I certainly hope not."

Johnny grinned. "At least the company's good."