Descent into Maelstrom
June 4, 1942
Miya watched her parents roll away on the train, as tears fell from her cheeks. Their faces faded in the distance, the sound of the train lowering to a vibration through the rails. Only a far away cry of "My child," carried over the wind.
She brushed away the tears, something smearing on her face as she did. Her hands were caked in ash. It fell around her, thick motes of it settling on the platform, coating the tracks. She turned back to the train.
It was engulfed in flame, bleeding off smoke from each carriage, like a great fiery snake slinking its way along as it was consumed. Screams escaped the inferno, none with more clarity than that of her mother, her sisters, her family.
Dragon King observed as Miya Shimida spasmed in her tank, jerked about like a puppet as Kyofu worked her strings. There was no doubt a wide grin beneath the man's terrible mask, a sadist through and through.
"She is not to expire before we reach our destination. Unless you wish to join her," said Dragon King.
Kyofu bowed. "I would not dream of it, sir. She will reach the apex of her torment in time for our assault."
Dragon King left the artist to his work. His superhumans already produced their own storm, but with Tsunami's powers added to that mix, there was no limit to the destruction they could unleash on the Americans. He was to finish what Admiral Yamamoto began at Pearl Harbor.
He returned to the bridge of the vessel, which was crewed exclusively by the soldiers of the Black Dragon Society. The Namazu was the pinnacle of Nippon's naval technology, forged from a strange metal gifted by their allies in Germany. Dragon King was not naive about the price of such gifts, as evidenced by the unwanted guests.
"The girl is secured then?" said the Ultra-Humanite. The man was not present in the flesh, instead taking form in a metal husk, his gaunt face projected on a screen. It already stood taller than any man, but Dragon King knew that it could grow far larger. He was joined by the so-called Axis Alliance and Vandal Savage.
"She is. My operative will have her prepared shortly."
"Hmm. It would be a waste to only use her this once. I would be able to decipher her powers."
"A matter for after the attack," said Dragon King.
No, he did not trust his foreign allies. He suspected the Ultra-Humanite had sent such a personal projection of his power to snoop. The man was relentlessly curious about how Nippon had produced their own contingent of superhumans.
"Of course," said Vandal Savage. A brute making a mockery of the suit he wore. Dragon King had no doubt the man intended to bloody his hands during this fight. "Let us focus on the task before us."
It was only a matter of who made the first cut. Perhaps some of these allies would not survive the coming battle. A pity.
Captain William Storm was not permitted to gloat when his warnings of imminent danger proved irrepressibly true. His captors within the Navy brig had vanished, busy responding to the unfolding crisis, of which he could only gather snippets through the cell window and the ongoing ache in his stump. The view afforded between the bars of the window displayed perhaps the nastiest storm he had ever seen.
"No doubt about it lads. They're here," said Storm, releasing the window bars.
Iron Munro was propping up Neptune, whose condition had only continued to deteriorate, deprived of his salt water. Raid sirens blared across Pearl Harbor, likely stretching all the way to Honolulu proper.
"Not even the decency to let us out once we proved them wrong," muttered Storm. All this effort and they would be trapped in a cell while the action went down.
"Don't speak too soon," said Iron Munro, hopping up from the cot. The burly man grabbed the bars to their cell, bending them out of place as easily a child might twist a straw.
"Good lord man. If you could do that the whole time…"
"Doing that earlier would have only confirmed their fears about us," said Iron Munro, as he put Neptune over his shoulders. He left the cell. "Well, what say you Ahab? Your wicked whale no doubt awaits."
Captain Storm fetched his cap. "You do know how Moby Dick ends don't you lad?"
"How about we rewrite it?"
Jonathan Law was not a typical superhero if such a term could ever exist. While the majority of his peers put on the mask out of a sense of idealism, Jonathan became the Tarantula to write a book. One set on the front lines of the superhero phenomena. His membership in the All-Star Squadron was born of a desire to be closer to the many subjects of the work. While he had come to appreciate the difference he could make as a hero, the book remained the focal point of his efforts, the central anchor around which everything else revolved. He filled journal after journal with meticulous notes, documenting every scrap of information and insight he obtained. He had come to view the events of his life in the form of chapters of the continually forming book.
The current chapter would no doubt be a dramatic one should Jonathan survive it. The wind whipped against his face, with enough force that he blocked it with his forearms. Palm trees bowed backwards, cowed by the gale, the least fortunate being torn asunder from their roots. The shoreline was beaten by oncoming waves, each set more violent than the last. Over the rough water, the dense, grey core of a storm curled and pulsed.
Sandman was conferring with a nervous soldier, while Liberty Belle, Airwave and Tarantula helped others redirect civilian traffic back towards Honolulu proper. TNT and Dyna-Mite were clearing fallen trees on the roadway, using their explosive energy to shatter the trunks. Robotman pushed a car that had swerved over a slope back onto the road. Along the coastline in the direction of Pearl Harbor, golden ankhs opened, delivering more members of the All-Star Squadron.
The tenor of the scene shifted abruptly as gunfire erupted deeper into the base. Soldiers were taking up defensive positions as submersibles beached themselves, spilling out armed men in black and green uniforms, their faces shrouded.
In spite of it all, Jonathan Law couldn't help but wonder what the chapter would be called.
Wesley Dodds never wanted to be a leader. He found the idea presumptuous. He was merely a well-traveled man with a penchant for prophetic dreams and a chemical formula for sleep gas. These were not qualities he considered to be valuable in a leadership role. Being the architect of the Justice Society was enough. Better to let those with the inclination and temperament take the reins. His work with the Squadron challenged these preferences, with many of the members granting him deference based on his membership in the JSA. It was with no small amount of hesitance that he took the lead on the Coast City sabotage case, an understanding that his detective skills were of value. He would handle it and return to his preferred domain. Yet, here he was, barking orders to his fellow heroes while masked invaders arrived en masse to kill them.
The soldier he had been talking to had raced back to his fellows as one of the Japanese submersibles reached the beach near them. Sandman wasted no time switching his gas gun to an impact variety. Purely gaseous delivery methods would be nearly useless with this amount of wind.
The first soldier on the beach fired a shot at Sandman, spitting off a chunk of a nearby palm. He ignored the flinch in his eye and shot back. The pellet hit the man's chest, bursting into a green powder that coated him and two soldiers behind. They wobbled and collapsed. Good. No gas masks of their own.
"Tarantula, Liberty Belle! Hit them before they can set up," shouted Sandman, loading another pellet.
A web sprung from Tarantula's gun, tangling the group, while a wall of sonic vibrations laid them out. Sandman saw too late one of the masked men had not been incapacitated and was aiming his firearm in spite of the webbing, directly at Wesley.
The bullets clanged off of hard metal as Robotman blocked the gunshots with his body. There was no follow-up, as Johnny Quick raced in to subdue the invader. The speedster disarmed the entire group. Tarantula added on another layer of webbing for good measure.
"Are you unharmed?" said Robotman. Wesley was sure the man meant it, but the flat affect of his voice, combined with unmoving features produced a disconcerting result.
"Yes. Thank you," replied Sandman. He crouched by the soldiers to inspect them. Their masks were marked with a dragon insignia.
The sounds of combat carried from deeper in the naval base. Even from their point on the shore, Sandman could see over a dozen of the landing craft.
"It's happening all over the base. I can hear the radio calls going out," said Airwave.
"The Japanese ones?" said Liberty Belle.
Airwave frowned. "Those too, but I can't understand them. They keep referring to something called the Namazu."
"What now?" said Johnny Quick.
"We need to head towards the fight. See if we can regroup with the others from the Squadron," said Wesley.
"What about Tsunami? Isn't she liable to be there?" said Johnny, referring to the core of the storm. There was a handful of ships now visible on the water. Japanese destroyers and cruisers.
"We're not the best suited to get her. Not till we have a handle on the situation."
Before heading down the road, Sandman turned around, realizing he was forgetting something. TNT and Dyna-Mite were flattened on the ground, their body language fully betraying their fear. These weren't soldiers, especially the boy.
Wesley crouched beside them. "We have to move."
TNT met his gaze, but Dyna-Mite remained curled up.
"I understand. I understand being afraid." He thought of Sandy, what it would be like to bring him into a situation this dire. "You don't have to come with us. You can head to Honolulu, help with any trouble that starts there."
That prompted a reaction from the teenager. He got up slowly. "No..no. I can do it. I can."
"No one's making you. There's no shame in bowing out."
"Don't worry," said Dyna-Mite in a shaky voice. "I'll be alright. Right boss?"
"Right pal," said TNT, only a mite more confident.
This was the issue of leadership, the knowledge that you could be leading people to their doom.
"Let's go," said Sandman as his team headed further into the unfolding battle.
Black Canary had scarcely gotten through the portal of golden light before someone was shooting at her. Typical hero work. Pearl Harbor was a battleground once more, only this time facing a seaborne invasion from Japanese troops.
She dropped an invader with a kick, while Wonder Woman bowled through an entire squad. She was fortunate to be alongside familiar allies. More heroes streamed through Fate's ankh portals, while Johnny Thunder brought in his own groups, blinking in and out of the base. Sandman's message had stressed the urgency of the danger and Dinah was glad the All-Star Squadron respected his warning. The problem was that they were acting in a purely reactive manner, with no guiding thought beyond the defense of the base.
Another invader hit the ground hard, tossed by Hourman, while the Atom wrestled one to the ground.
"What do they hope to accomplish with this?" said Hourman. He picked up an errant tire, throwing it at an oncoming group of the masked soldiers.
His question was valid. There were loads of the, but between the American troops at the base, which was considerably more prepared than it was in '41, and the influx of heroes, they weren't making much progress. Every foot gained was paid for in scores of the invaders.
"It's a distraction. It has to be," said Dinah. "The real show has to be over there." She pointed at the storm, the ships.
That was the other oddity. The Japanese ships hadn't fired at all. She bought them not wanting to hit their own men, but why not soften up the base first? Dinah didn't like it at all.
"Hey birdie, watch it," shouted Wildcat.
Another landing craft had dumped its cargo, which in this case was a compact tank rumbling straight for Black Canary and her allies. She was mid-run when its turret found her. The shot exploded against a wall of green flame as Green Lantern flew overhead.
"Nice save," shouted Atom.
The tank didn't last much longer, with Wonder Woman twisting the top of it off the frame, while Green Lantern scooped out its crew. More tanks were joining the foot soldiers all along the waterfront. Something blew up on Ford Island. A few of the coastal guns were going off, through they didn't seem to be having much of an effect on the Japanese ships, which were largely obscured by the growing storm.
"That can't be good," said Hourman.
Japanese planes flew overhead. Strangely, they ignored the base, heading further inland.
"Or that," said the Atom. He was staring out over the water.
Dinah followed his line of sight. Rising on the horizon, dwarfing the other ships around it, was a massive black and red vessel. Even from this distance, its form was reminiscent of a fish, some Biblical leviathan cresting through the ocean.
Superman finished sealing one of the landing craft with his heat vision when he heard the woman's shriek. The scene was full of such conflicting noise, one that took real concentration to sift through, but this was a cry of agony. He was in the air before he had even pinpointed its source.
The origin was out on the water, a woman in a translucent orb that was tethered to two smaller boats. It was being pulled in front of the enormous craft that had just surfaced, the center point of the attack. Clark's vision revealed a woman he had seen before, at several of the All-Star Squadron's meetings. Tsunami, her kidnapping a part of Sandman's alert.
He raced towards her, ignoring the fire from the ships. With each cry of pain from Tsunami, the water shook and reformed. Superman discerned the pattern. Costumed figures danced in the clouds above the giant ship. A problem for after he rescued Tsunami. Clark didn't understand Japanese, but he could hear it spoken all throughout the area. One word was repeated: Nuru, Nuru, Nuru.
The lightness that characterized his flight flicked off as he crossed an invisible threshold. All he could do was brace for the ocean's surface. The impact hurt, another shock. The sensation lacked the acidic vigor of the green rock's poison, though the effect was similar. His powers were dimmed.
As Superman spat up salt water he had no time to adjust. Something seized his ankle, dragging him down into the depths.
Wonder Woman watched Superman fall from the sky. She hadn't seen anything hit him that would have caused such a rapid descent. She was about to go after him when Hawkwoman blocked her, wings fully outstretched,
"Wait," she said.
"He needs our help," said Wonder Woman. She wasn't even sure if Superman could swim. Maybe he never had to.
"I've seen something like that happen once before. On Bataan. They have a weapon that can affect our powers."
Diana strained against Hawkwoman's warning. There was no obvious threat, no field of influence that was visible to the naked eye. Her impulses screamed to rush to her companion's aid. Yet, Hawkwoman lacked even a shred of doubt.
"Can we stop it?"
Hawkwoman nodded. "It's a sphere with a person trapped inside. There must be one nearby. We just have to find it."
Wonder Woman was denied the opportunity to inquire further as a jeep landed between the two women, its front caving in from the impact. The deliverer of the danger was a bulky man in a blue costume with a red cross that converged on a swastika insignia. A woman on a winged horse waited behind him. The same woman that attacked President Roosevelt years past. Valkyrie.
"I hope I did not interrupt any precious final moments," called out the man. He lumbered towards them. "I had wished to kill your Superman today, but you will do, Fraulein."
It was remarkable how fast Libby found herself back in Warsaw, in that long slog through occupied Europe, as soon as the bullets started flying. She kept her head low, following Sandman as he led them deeper into the base. Scattered fights raged all over Pearl Harbor, as more craft landed. One of the hangars on Ford Island was ablaze.
"Those planes are dropping something," said Tarantula.
Individual Japanese planes were flying past the harbor, their paths destined further inland. Ground gunners made their job harder, though their ability to guard the skies was compromised by the invaders. The American planes were unable to take off, on account of the storm and the runways being used as battlegrounds. Libby saw a thin black object fall from one of the planes, landing somewhere in Pearl City, the neighborhood north of the base, but there was no explosion. They weren't bombs, at least not standard ones. The Japanese were not entirely without worry in the air. Starman was pursuing one of them, while another plane's wings were sheared off when it was rammed by the conical capped Bulletman and Bulletgirl.
"We're nearly at the heart of all this," said Sandman. He kept reaching a hand to steady a hat that had long ago flown away, a tic Libby would have found quite charming if not for the surrounding danger.
"I could run out to those ships and back. Give us a look," said Johnny, who had been offering that route periodically.
Sandman shot it down. "Not now. If you get caught alone out there, there's little chance we could rescue you. Wait till we have a real plan."
If Sandman's consistent dismissal frustrated Johnny, he was at least able to take it out on another round of invaders, giving each of them a couple punches, a blur of activity Libby could only see glimpses of.
Near the dry docks came the kind of concussive impacts that Libby had come to know as the sign that two superhumanly strong individuals were striking one another. Her intuition proved correct, as Wonder Woman locked in combat with a burly Nazi superhuman.
"Could that be one of our Axis Alliance members?" said Libby.
"I'd buy it," offered Tarantula.
In the background of Wonder Woman's duel, Hawkwoman was in an aerial battle with a warrior on a winged horse. They spiraled higher and higher with each pass. The warrior thrust out her spear as the two met. Hawkwoman arched her back, her wings curling inwards as she dropped.
"Johnny, Hawkwoman's going down," shouted Libby.
Johnny Quick found the soon-to-be point of impact, offering up a gust of wind that buffeted her landing. Still, Hawkwoman bounced hard on the ground, coming to a skidding halt. Libby ran to help her.
"Liberty Belle?" said Hawkwoman. She had a nasty cut on her side. "Sandman.." He was beside them.
"We're here for you," said Libby.
She stole a look over her shoulder, aware the warrior woman could be on her way to finish the job. She was occupied, with Hawkman taking his partner's place in the clash.
"We'll patch you up," said Sandman. He was ripping off a strip of his coat to use as a makeshift bandage.
"Listen," said Hawkwoman, grabbing at Libby's arm. "The Japanese have a device that turns off our powers. It got Superman. It's protecting those ships. You have to find it. It'll be on the water, shaped like a sphere."
"We can do that," said Libby, unnerved by how much blood continued to seep through the bandage.
"Tarantula," called Sandman, beckoning him over. "Use your gun on that wound."
"But…"
"Do it. It'll buy her time to get properly treated."
With hesitance, Tarantula fired a small glob of his webbing over the cut, reinforcing the bandage and seemingly plugging the hole.
"Robotman, get her out of the line of fire. Find a medic if you can. A doctor even, I know there's a hospital nearby," said Sandman. "TNT, Dyna-Mite make sure they make it safely.
Robotman lifted Hawkwoman up gingerly. He stomped off, his allies in tow.
"How are we going to find the device?" said Libby.
Sandman sat with the question for a moment, before he jabbed a finger at Airwave. "Patch in to anything you can. Every radio signal. We're looking for a spherical device on the water. Johnny spread the word about what we're looking for." He turned back to Libby as Johnny Quick zipped off. "While he's doing that we need to find a vantage point."
A quick survey gave Libby her answer as to what could serve such a purpose, though she didn't enjoy the answer. Sandman was staring at the same thing.
"You know those are fuel tanks?"
"We don't have to be up there for long," said Sandman, already on the move.
The fight was hectic enough that even the Flash had his hands full. He raced across Pearl Harbor, painfully aware of his last time here, knocking down invaders, disarming them, pulling their bullets out of the air, while moving soldiers and personnel out of harm's way.
On one of his circuits through the area someone appeared beside him. It was Johnny Quick.
"Hey there," said Jay.
"Long time no see Flash."
"We have to quit meeting here," said Jay. The pair ran through a squad, removing their magazines as they did so. Jay made sure to tie a couple pairs of laces together here and there.
"I've got information to spread. Figured you'd be a good starting point." Johnny went on to describe a device that Jay immediately recognized from the aftermath of their mission to Bataan. He had never seen it, but Shiera's descriptions were comprehensive in their debriefs.
"I'll get right on that," said Jay.
The two speedsters split off, heading from group to group, hero to hero to let them know what to look for. Jay had to slow down his speech more than once, lest his message be discounted as gibberish. He told Doctor Fate as the man dismantled a tank, Plastic Man while he coiled around a group of masked soldiers, Guardian and Shining Knight as they defended a group of mechanics from gunfire, and more.
He was on his way to Atom and Hourman, who were making short work of a squad, when he realized it was taking a long time to get there. Just like that, Jay's speed was gone. It didn't stop him from running into the brawl, delivering a strike that laid out the last of the masked men.
"Running out of steam buddy? That's the slowest punch you've ever thrown," asked Atom.
"I wish. My powers aren't working," said Jay.
"Same here," added Hourman. "My hour of Miraculo is over at around twenty minutes."
Jay explained the device. "..which means they've brought it closer to shore. If its effects have spread."
There was a loud thump to their left. Wonder Woman flew by, crashing through a parked truck. The villain that did the deed was on his way to continue their fight.
"That shouldn't be possible," said Hourman. "His powers should be gone too…"
"Guess someone forgot to tell the bad guys to play fair," said the Atom.
The moment at which the heroes lost their powers was easy to discern due to the simple, disturbing implications of all those who were in the air when it happened. Libby was a helpless observer as Hawkman fell, cast down from his duel with Valkyrie not through injury, but the pitiless rules of gravity. Starman crashed on the roof of one of the hangars. Bulletman and Bulletgirl fell from truly dizzying heights, their fates unknown as they landed on the far side of the harbor. Green Lantern was spared a painful landing, having been on the ground already, though he was nearly cut down by a group of masked gunmen, only saved through the intervention of Vigilante and Crimson Avenger.
Libby and Sandman were able to see the full scope of the fight on the base from the top of the fuel tank. The most apparent element for her was that their initial advantage was slipping, particularly with the distortion provided by the Japanese device. Wonder Woman and a group of heroes was having a nasty time with the hulking German. She appeared to be somewhat resistant to the power loss, shrugging off hits that would have killed the unprotected, though the fight had shifted from an even one to a decidedly unfair contest.
The American defenders and the heroes were being pushed back by sheer numbers, having effectively lost control of the dry docks and the coastline around the airfields. Libby worried for Johnny, who she had not seen since they split up. Could he handle the loss of his speed? Or had the switch happened in a moment of peril?
"Look, over there," said Sandman.
The duo was forced to stay low, lest the buffeting wind knock them off the fuel tank. The ocean was all crashing whitecaps, the storm marching closer, as the fleet closed its distance, apparently confident they would be unthreatened by the coastal guns at this point. The sheer scale of the lead craft was only becoming more absurd as it neared.
She caught what Sandman was trying to show her. In front of the vessels, there was an aberrant strip of water, at least several miles long. The water did not flow, instead it appeared to rise. It took Libby a moment to recognize she was watching a tsunami form, artificial though it was.
"Good god," she whispered. "That's why they took Miya."
"We don't have long. That won't just hit Pearl Harbor."
There, on the water, far enough ahead of its escorts was a sphere being towed by a pair of boats. Libby pointed it out to Sandman. Now if they could reach it before Honolulu was wiped off the map.
From time to time, Clark had wondered if he could drown. When he was younger, before his powers fully manifested, it had been a real danger. After the change, he had occasionally tried to time how long he could hold his breath, but would get bored long before he found an accurate measurement. It appeared he was going to get an answer soon as he was dragged deeper and deeper.
He tried to kick free from the machine which had him in its grip, but he was too weak. His body was swung around, smashing into the seabed. It took all his effort to keep from letting loose the air in his lungs. The mechanical monstrosity that had him pinned was roughly humanoid in form, though no one would mistake its true nature. It was twice his size, its limbs and joints twisting and sliding with a complex array of mechanical parts. A screen served as its face, projecting the gaunt face of an old, bald man. His eyes smoldered with hatred.
"You're going to die here Superman," said the man, his voice clear in spite of the water. That voice. It called Superman back to the complex below Metropolis, the man he spoke to after his capture.
Another mechanical hand crashed onto his chest. Clark clenched his jaw. He willed his eyes to produce heat vision, but they refused to obey, stolen along with his flight.
"Again and again you have impeded my plans. You have stood in the way of inexorable progress. Humanity's very destiny." He smashed Superman once more.
Superman managed to brace his other foot against the seabed. He pushed off, with enough force to slip from the machines grip. He began to swim frantically upwards.
He felt his cape go taut. "Not so fast Superman." The man dragged him back down, swinging him back into the murky sand.
When Clark pushed his body up something exploded against his backside. A torpedo. Then another. His body recoiled with pain. A trio of submarines had joined the fight.
"Still resilient? No matter, it only prolongs my enjoyment."
Wonder Woman caught Iron Cross's fist with both her hands. Her arms cried out at the exertion, her feet digging into the concrete. Some invisible thief had sapped her might.
The Nazi enjoyed his clear advantage, a hungry smile on his broad face as he continued to walk her back. "This has been an interesting bout, Fraulein. If you are amenable to domestication, there could be a place for you in the new order."
"You mistake your might for skill," said Wonder Woman. She let her heels catch in the divots, falling backwards. Iron Cross was caught off-kilter by the loss of resistance, stumbling forwards. Diana kept her grip on his hand as she used the momentum to fling him. He crashed down, sending out shards of concrete.
She was back on her feet immediately, lasso drawn. Diana leapt onto his back, wrapping the cord around his upper body, pinning his arms. "You will submit," she commanded. He roared, staggering about as he tried to free his arms. The lasso held.
Iron Cross took a page out of her book, jumping up and falling flat on his back. Diana was forced to dismount to avoid being crushed. By the time she righted herself, he had slipped from the lasso. She was given a punch to the jaw for her troubles, one that sent her to her knees. Diana tasted blood on her lip.
"Submit? I am an Aryan. We do not bow to our lessers," said Iron Cross.
"Really? Cause you should consider it," shouted the Atom as he charged the man.
Either the Nazi was taken by surprise or he had no fear that the much smaller man would manage anything, because he made no effort to avoid the Atom's tackle. What he could not have known, what Diana saw from her kneeling position was Hourman and the Flash throwing their full weight into the back of his knees. The result was Diana's three companions toppling the man. When the Iron Cross landed on his back, the hero Tarantula ran up, firing his web gun till the man was entirely covered in it.
The Atom offered Wonder Woman a hand. "I am in your debt my friend," said Diana.
"Aw shucks. You're gonna make me blush so hard you'll see it through the mask," said the Atom.
Hourman got their attention. "Save your speech pal. Those webs ain't holding him for long."
They were already snapping, as Iron Cross writhed in anger. Diana's lasso was too far away for her to retrieve it before he would be free.
"Yeesh. Some schmucks just don't know when they're beat" said the Atom.
Wonder Woman smiled in spite of the ache from her split lip. "Let us deliver the lesson properly this time."
The muzzle of the Thompson machine gun flashed with death as Captain Storm ran across for the docks. Behind him, Iron Munro and Neptune Perkins followed, as bullets whizzed their way, a gift from the many Japanese troops that had landed here. Perkins was still loopy without salt water. Iron Munro had shown more of his hand, taking a chest full of bullets without so much as a ruffled hair earlier.
Storm didn't have much of a plan beyond get a boat, but he found the beauty was in the process. The world had turned to such madness here that if he stopped to consider any of it, he might fall apart.
There were dozens more of the costumed crowd, though they didn't appear to be having a good time. A number of them had created a makeshift fort around one of the hangars out of overturned jeeps and trucks, with supply crates piled for cover.
"Nearly there," said Captain Storm. Neptune Perkins groaned in response. He was just short of crawling at this point.
The docks were relatively unscathed in spite of the assault. The Japanese troops were preoccupied with tying down the defenders rather than trying to sabotage any of the base's facilities. Damage to that was largely collateral so far.
"Come on now, come on," muttered Storm. Not just any boat would do.
Iron Munro dragged Neptune to the docks, where he let the man fall into the water with a dull splash. He did not resurface. Movement by the docked boats made Storm swing up his gun, finger curling at the trigger.
"Wait," shouted the masked woman. She had a cracked red and yellow bell on her chest. Her companion was a man in a gas mask and a tattered trench coat.
"Odd getup for Hawaii," said Storm. "Speak your case."
"Easy captain. These are American superheroes."
Storm lowered the gun. "About to abandon the fight?" He nodded to the boats.
"Looking to even the odds," said the woman. She explained their mission. Their target. It was all a bunch of nonsense from people who had their heads hit one too many times, but here was Storm about to go after a mechanical monstrosity, so his capacity for judgement was limited.
"That's why my strength waned," said Iron Munro.
"Only one problem with your plan. Do either of you know how to pilot a boat?"
The woman and gas masked fellow shook their heads.
"Leave this to the professionals then," said Captain Storm, shouldering past them. "Go help your pals back there. Was looking mighty grim in a few spots."
He didn't look back to see if they followed his advice. He was too busy searching the dock till he saw it. The only one for him.
"Eighty feet of wood and weaponry," said Storm. A PT boat.
Captain Storm hopped aboard. Iron Munro followed him. "How many crew members does this take?"
"Eleven's the norm," said Storm as he checked to make sure it was seaworthy. Enough fuel, enough ammo and torpedos in the tubes. She was about to be sent out anyways. "We'll have to manage with only two."
"Make it three," said Neptune as he climbed over the edge of the boat. He was less sickly already, his skin returned to a ruddy pallor.
The engine shuddered to life as they cast off, the anger of the ocean apparent from the moment they left the docks. "Let's get hunting."
The sounds of the battle carried far past the edges of the base, as Starman followed Sergeant Lowell and his men. He felt no small guilt over leaving the thick of the conflict, but the soldier had been most persuasive as to the urgency of the problem they now confronted. Miss America and Plastic Man were with them, out of proximity more than anything else.
"Reinforcements should be on the way from Honolulu, but the Japanese have them buttoned down on the road," said the sergeant. "That and the storm's made it impossible to get any ships or planes over here."
The storm was what worried Starman the most out of the threats they faced. During his short, ill-fated time in the air, he caught a real glimpse of how enormous it was.
"You still haven't told us what it is you're dragging us away from that mess for," said Plastic Man. "Not really."
"I'm only going off of what my men told me over the radio. They said it was bad."
They were in a patch of undeveloped land, past Pearl City, the neighborhood the peninsula at the north part of the base. Why a Japanese plane would drop anything here was beyond Ted's imagination. At a certain point, Ted felt his cosmic rod come back to life. Plastic Man confirmed his suspicions that they had left the field that stole their powers as the man began to morph and stretch once again.
"Finally," said Plastic Man. "That was too constricting for my taste."
"Is the effect gone or are we simply far enough away now?" said Miss America.
"No way to know right now," said Starman.
The group hiked along a service road, till they reached a small clearing.
"That's why we're here," said Sergeant Lowell.
Standing in the middle, its front end buried in the earth, was a long metal rod, around fifteen feet tall from what was visible alone. The rod was made up of segments, like an armadillo's shell, with machinery visible through the thin gaps. The soldiers that found it stood a ways away from it, as though frightened.
"They dropped a metal stick?" said Plastic Man.
"Oh, it's more than that," said one of the soldiers.
"We've found at least three more of these," said the sergeant.
Starman approached the rod.
"Careful," cried one of the soldiers. "It can mighty temperamental."
As if on cue, the segments slammed against one another, in a cascade down the entire length of the device, continuing into the ground. The metal glowed red hot and the ground rumbled with enough force that Ted stumbled. Plastic Man caught Miss America as she fell, while a number of the soldiers ended up on the ground.
"What was that?" said Miss America.
"It's been doing that every couple of minutes," said a soldier, picking himself up.
"Each time is sooner than the last. And stronger," said a man who was staring at his watch. "That was two minutes since the last one. It lasted four seconds longer."
Ted considered the device, the attack, the storm. This was a hedging of bets on the part of the Japanese.
"These rods conduct seismic activity. Earthquakes."
"Meaning?" said the sergeant.
"If that storm doesn't do us in, they're going to shake the island apart."
The PT boat skimmed along the surface of the raging ocean, each wave reverberating through the hull. The salty spray had soaked Captain Storm to the bone, while the wind had stolen his cap. This was where he belonged.
Iron Munro and Neptune Perkins played their parts as best they could, the former handling the torpedos, the latter on the front mounted cannon. He was used to working with a crew that treated the vessel as though it were an extension of them. His crew, the reason for this entire foolhardy venture. It took a great deal of will to avoid turning the boat directly towards the leviathan, for one desperate run against it.
"Anything?," shouted Captain Storm.
"Nothing..wait...wait, there, to port," said Neptune Perkins.
Storm spotted their target. It was a large sphere, like a giant marble attached to a floating buoy. The sphere was tethered to two boats, the rough equivalents of the very craft that Captain Storm currently piloted. He adjusted their heading towards the device.
"Get ready Perkins. They won't make it easy for us," said Storm.
They were the only American boat on the water right now, their survival predicated on going unnoticed by the destroyers and cruisers that accompanied the leviathan. Storm suspected that their hesitance to fire only extended to the battle on the base.
"Munro, those torpedoes need to fire as soon as I give the signal. A moment late and we're all wet," said Captain Storm.
They bounced along the top of the waves, the boat rising and falling in a choppy rhythm. An unnoticed attack run proved too much to ask for as the burst of a cannon rose above the wind. The water alongside their PT boat exploded upwards as the shots skimmed by them.
"Perkins! Return the favor."
His companion did as commanded, unloading his own cannon at the Japanese. Captain Storm grimaced as he felt some of their shots land. The boat was tough, but it couldn't withstand sustained fire.
"Munro, get ready. Nearly time for their delivery," said Storm.
The device was a smaller target than he would have liked, bobbing along in the rough swells. Perkins's shots raced the length of one of the Japanese patrol boats, its gun falling silent.
"Good shooting."
At last, they were within range. "Munro, fire the torpedo!"
The torpedo rolled off the side of the boat, its propulsion activating as it hit the water. Captain Storm followed its deadly trail through the water as best he could. He held his breath, weaving the boat's course back and forth as the other Japanese boat returned fire.
Nothing. A dud or a miss.
"What now?" said Iron Munro, ducking as cannon fire ripped up the length of their boat. It tore through the radio mast by Captain Storm's head.
They were close, close enough that another torpedo would be a threat to them as well, especially if it went off early. But, the Japanese boats were on the move, shifting the sphere away. There was no certainty they would get another attack run, not now that their existence had no doubt been relayed to the fleet.
"Prepare another one," said Captain Storm. He gripped the controls with white knuckles.
He angled the bow slightly ahead of the ships, leading them. They would pay the price for this maneuver soon.
"We're too close," said Neptune. Another salvo of enemy fire dug into the nose of the boat. He hoped they weren't taking on water.
"No! No. Iron Munro, fire on my command."
Storm lined up the shot. He cursed his one eye. Always made this part tricky. This was why he relied on Buddy. Buddy and all the rest. This was for them.
"Fire," he yelled.
There was no time to watch this one race away, their boat so close he could see the panicked face of the Japanese sailors on the lead craft. As soon as Captain Storm heard the splash, he jerked the controls to starboard, fighting the speed of the ship and the temperament of the waves. His companions braced, cling to whatever they could as the PT boat tilted, threatening to overturn as swells slapped against its side.
"Come on now, come one," said Storm, coaxing it, feeling each vibration. "There we go, there we go."
He was so focused on his task that he couldn't enjoy the explosion behind them. They were close enough that water displaced by the blast rained on them as he fought the tide, bringing the boat back down.
"We got them!" shouted Iron Munro.
Captain Storm permitted himself a smile. That was the easy part done.
"They've neutralized your inhibitor," said Vandal Savage. His tone was even, his face still, but Dragon King could detect the smugness. In spite of it all, the brute was happy to see complications in their plans. He had been surprised that Savage hadn't joined the ground assault. Even the Ultra-Humanite's machine was busy hunting Superman.
They had watched the Nuru explode from the bridge of the Namazu. Its loss was unfortunate, but not unforeseen. "This is why we have contingencies. Besides, it has delayed them sufficiently."
Though many of his troops had been felled they had done their job. The Axis Alliance remained largely intact, continuing to harry the American defenders. Tsunami had nearly produced her namesake before them. Combined with Susanoo and the others, with the seismic generators as a force multiplier and there was little hope for their foes.
"I would not be so certain. A consistent trait of these Americans is their persistence. To underestimate them now would be unwise," said Vandal Savage.
Dragon King spoke to one of his underlings. "Deploy Rising Sun and Amaterasu directly."
"They need us to do what? I've barely had a second to catch my breath," said Johnny Quick.
Jay sighed. He understood the man's hesitance. Since their powers returned, he had been a messenger for nearly everyone in the Squadron, coordinating Sandman and Black Canary's plan. Now, he was here with Johnny and Quicksilver for their part in the grand scheme.
"What's the matter? Too slow to keep up?" said Quicksilver. Johnny shot the man a dirty look. Tempers were short at this point, everyone running on close to empty.
"Easy Quicksilver. This isn't the race track. This only works if we all work together," said the Flash.
Quicksilver scoffed. "I'm only making sure our friend here has it in him to get the job done. I don't want to pluck him out of the water."
Johnny Quick jabbed a finger to Quicksilver's chest. "If anyone's getting left in the dust, it's you." He turned to Jay. "I can do it, just run it by me one more time."
"The Japanese are fixing to take us out with one big wave. The others think they can stop it, but only if we buy them time."
"And to do that they need us to run on the water," said Quicksilver.
"The job would be too much for any one of us. Together, though, together we can generate a counter-force. A wall of wind and water, kicked up by our speed."
Johnny ran his hand through his messy hair. "It still sounds nuts."
"It is nuts. But, I don't have anything better."
Johnny Quick addressed Quicksilver. "Let's see who's faster then."
Another wave crashed against the side of Black Canary's boat, drenching everyone within. She resisted the urge to complain, instead making sure that her wig would hold on. The material she used to affix it was water proof, but the conditions were providing a real stress test.
"I shoulda stayed on land," complained Wildcat.
"You can still swim back," said the Atom.
Black Canary intervened as Hawkwoman groaned. "We are not listening to you two argue the entire way."
"I'm just looking out for our resident feline. I know how much they hate water," said Al.
Another wave hit, dumping more water right on Al. Wildcat laughed, while the rest of their group ignored him. Black Canary could feel the shivers starting. They were forced to take a wide route towards their destination, avoiding both the burgeoning tsunami and the threat of the Japanese fleet. She and the others in the boat had earned the task of infiltrating the Namazu, what Airwave had discerned was the Japanese flagship, to disable the power dampening field on board. It was invulnerable to their heavy hitters as it stood. They were in little more than a dinghy, piloted by Batman. Black Canary wasn't at all surprised that that was among his many skills. Every time you thought he had reached the limits of his various expertises, he unveiled a new facet. There was also Sandman, Hawkwoman, devoid of her flight harness, the Atom, Wildcat, Liberty Belle and Red Bee. Their final companion was an odd choice, but he claimed to be an excellent swimmer and Doctor Midnight had vouched for him.
"Aren't your bees going to drown?" said Wildcat.
"This is waterproof," said Red Bee, indicating the belt he wore.
"I thought the bee guy was Yellowjacket?" said Atom.
"No, he's the yellowjacket guy," said Red Bee.
"There's more than one hero with a stinging insect gimmick?" said Liberty Belle, incredulous.
"Why not?" said Red Bee. "It's a sizeable field."
It was going to be a long boat ride.
Green Lantern blocked the beam of heat with a shield of his own flame. He rose higher into the sky, wary of the possibility that his ring could fail again, but wanting to draw this fight away from the people left on the base. His opponent was a Japanese superhuman in a white costume with a red sun insignia on their chest.
"I remember reading about you in the paper when you first appeared," said the man. He followed Alan into the grey clouds, his flight illuminated by the glow of orange fire.
Another wave of flames rained forth. Alan braced against them, his willpower shunting it off.
"I never dreamt I would be battling the Green Lantern," continued his opponent.
"We don't have to fight," said Alan. He returned the favor, swinging out with a green club. The man was hit by it, though he blunted the impact.
"Were it only that simple. Our nations are at war. I have my orders."
A distant beam of light split through the clouds. Doctor Fate was fighting his own partner, a woman glowing like the sun.
"I do not speak to you as a diversionary measure. I merely wish to convey the gratitude I feel in facing an honorable opponent," said the man.
Green Lantern rammed through the cloud cover, crashing into him, as the two spiraled and fought, two flaming objects raging in the sky. It was going to be a polite battle, at least.
If he was being candid, Daniel Dunbar should have been back home, studying for his upcoming tests, rather than fighting a Japanese invasion at Pearl Harbor. He justified it with the fact that his chemistry teacher Mr. Thomas was here with him, in the guise of TNT. Their powers only worked in concert, a result of the accidental exposure to radioactive salts in their lab back home. He had no right to be so scared. This is what he wanted after all, what he badgered Mr. Thomas into allowing him to partake in.
"This way pal," said TNT. The pair were following Johnny Thunder as he put out fires and cleared rubble, using his own partner, a glowing pink thing he called his Thunderbolt. He was a bit of a goof, but there were few limits to what his guardian could do.
"Say you: Move that debris off those men," said Johnny Thunder. The pink figure zipped off of him, as the collapsed building shifted away, revealing those trapped within.
Dyna-Mite helped them up, guiding the men over to the ambulances that had begun to arrive since the heroes got their powers back. Things had been looking mighty bleak for a time. There was still a real sense of dread hanging over the whole affair, with a giant wave forming off the shore. If he squinted, Dan could see the red, yellow and blue blurs of the speedsters racing back and forth across the ocean's surface.
They combed through one of the collapsed administrative buildings, which had been subject to a tank's assault. TNT and Dyna-Mite were checking one of the few intact rooms, while out in the hall Johnny was about to issue a command. Something swished through the air. Johnny yelped. Dan reached the hall in time to see Johnny Thunder collapse, two blades sticking from his back.
TNT slammed into Dan's side, pushing him to the ground, as another throwing knife cut through the air where his head had been. Standing down the hallway, in the direction of the exit, were two villains. The taller of the two wore a red and green costume, with a twin horned cowl. He was reminiscent of Batman. The smaller, younger one was blue and gray, with red hair peeking from his mask. His hands held the knives.
"Complications Der Uhu," said the smaller one.
"Opportunities, Fledermaus," said the taller one.
Dyna-Mite and TNT got to their feet. Behind them Johnny moaned in pain, completely out of it.
"I have not heard of these two," said Fledermaus. "I had at least heard of that magician we killed."
"They are likely not worth hearing of. Unless, you wish to prove us wrong." That these Germans chose to speak in English was no doubt to mess with them.
"There is poison on my blade. Your comrade will be dead within minutes," said the young one with a malicious smile. "Though to be fair, so will you."
TNT held his fist towards Dan. Dan met it with his own, their rings sparking, the point of impact providing the catalyst for the atomic charge within their bodies to be activated. Dyna-Mite felt the telltale burning sensation that told him he was activated. Yellow and red energy bled off of their hands.
When Der Uhu and Fledermaus made their move, TNT and Dynamite struck the floor and the hallway exploded.
A seam in the earth split open as Miya's family collapsed into it, swallowed along with her childhood home. She watched car crashes, infernos, land slides, bombings, all manner of death and destruction befall them. Over and over they perished, their cries for her help an incessant chorus to her ears.
She could feel the tidal wave building, all her rage and anguish poured into one focal point. Some small sliver could grasp the artificiality of this torment, but not with enough clarity to break free. She was becoming the wave, the embodiment of her fury, a way to make it all wash away.
Superman crumpled the machine's head between his hands. He had enough of its masters gloating, taking no time at all to dismantle it as soon as his strength came rushing back to him. Still, another torpedo burst against his torso, knocking him back to the sea floor. Rejuvenated or not, he was almost out of oxygen, his lungs burning and straining in his chest.
The subs maintained their bombardment, granting him no time to retaliate. Every time he rose, he was knocked down again. His movements were more sluggish at this depth, the pressure of so much water working against every action.
It was as he was being tossed around that Clark's vision was obscured by a school of fish, so dense that it enveloped him. Hundreds if not thousands of them swarmed his body, pushing him along, a current of life that lifted him through the water.
He braced for an explosion to rip through the fish, but it never arrived. There was an echoing clang through the water. One of the submarines was going down, its midsection caved in. The perpetrator, a humpback whale, wasted no time in ramming the next one.
The remaining submarine was completely covered by all manner of sea life, from fish to octopuses. Superman could still hear a torpedo being readied to fire as the crew inside adjusted to their new complication. Till something seized the submarine from behind. Or someone. A man with blond hair dug his hands into the metal of the sub, towing it down to the sea floor. Clark watched as his rescuer ripped off the propeller.
The fish continued to lift Superman until his head burst through the surface. Oxygen, sweet oxygen, filled his lungs. The fish scattered. Superman scanned for the aquatic man, but he had vanished as quickly as he arrived.
What he could see were the desperate crew members trapped within the submarines that had just been attacking him. Superman dove back under to rescue them.
"Brace yourselves," shouted Captain Storm.
Iron Munro had quickly learned to listen to the man, as he found something to hold onto in the cabin. They were headed straight for the rising wave, intent on punching through it.
"Either we make it to the other side or you and I better learn how to swim like your friend," said Captain Storm.
Through the windows, Iron Munro watched as the world vanished save for the wall of water in front of them. The bow hit the wave, an impact that carried through the entire boat. Captain Storm cursed, his face nearly smacking into the controls. Water slid over the surface of the boat as it continued through the wave. Water crashed into the cabin as the boat was fully enveloped. Iron Munro held his breath.
In what must have been seconds, the bow split out into open air again as the PT boat rose. A layer of water, ankle deep, remained on the cabin floor. Iron Munro let go of his handhold, suddenly aware that he had completely crushed it with his grip.
"I'll check on Neptune," said Iron Munro, leaving the cabin.
His aquatic friend remained on the exterior of the boat, somehow maintaining his position in spite of their path.
"We're nearly there. I can see her," said Neptune. He pointed Iron to a similar scene to the jammer they destroyed earlier, nearly identical in setup. Only this time they couldn't blow it up. One of their own was trapped inside.
The ground rumbled around Ted Knight as he examined the machine more violently than before. He was undisturbed by the shaking as he floated off the ground, though his companions were not so lucky. Plastic Man was able to absorb the vibrations with ease, but Miss America was knocked down, as was Sergeant Lowell.
"It's accelerating," said Ted. His rod had determined that the machine was linked to others, as they reached a critical mass. His efforts to disrupt the signal were in vain thus far. As was his attempt to dismantle it in a more forceful manner. The seismic pillar, as he conceptualized it, was made of highly resilient materials of a kind Ted had never encountered before.
"What's that mean for us?" said Miss America.
"We're within minutes of a catastrophic seismic event, likely timed to coincide with the arrival of that tsunami. Even without the wave, it will be devastating. These are geologically active islands after all."
"Can you interrupt it?" said Miss America.
"My cosmic rod hasn't made so much as a dent in this thing. It isn't responsive to electromagnetism."
Miss America frowned, examining the seismic pillar. She paced around it, getting close, then stepping further away.
"What if you dislodged it without going after the pillar? Carved away the substances it was buried in?"
Ted snapped his fingers. "That's worth a shot." He dropped his head again. "Only it will take too long."
"Allow me to gum up the works," said Plastic Man. "Literally."
"Are you proposing?"
"If the alternative is this island gets a lot more beachfront property in the next few minutes, I'm game to try anything," said Plastic Man.
Starman didn't like the idea, but the math was not in their favor. He allowed Plastic Man to approach the machine. The man stretched towards the gaps in the segments, his body flattening out to fill into it. Miss America gasped as Plastic Man vanished into the machine, the various mechanical parts gradually becoming encased in red and black.
Starman aimed the cosmic rod at the earth around the pillar and began to carve away.
The machine attempted to contract, another seismic pulse, but it was dampened considerably by the living shock absorption of Plastic Man. For his part, he let out a groan.
"Are you okay?" said Miss America.
"This thing's the worst chiropractor I've had, and let me tell you, there are some bad ones in Mammoth City. Starguy, I wouldn't say no to a healthy dose of hustle on your part."
Pat Dugan had barely stepped off the boat onto Ford Island when an arrow lodged itself next to his head. He and Star-Spangled Kid dashed for cover, while Shining Knight blocked another arrow with his shield.
"This your idea of a welcome?" shouted Vigilante, firing one of his revolvers over the barricades. All he got for an answer was another arrow as bullets joined the mix.
The Seven Soldiers had been given the task of clearing out the Ford Island airbase of the remaining Japanese invaders. It was apparent that said invaders had help from at least one member of the Axis Alliance. They were pinned on the wrong side of coastal fortifications put in place after the last attack on Pearl Harbor.
"Gimme a clean shot and I'll make it quick," said a man in English.
"That an Australian accent?" asked Star-Spangled Kid. "I thought they were on our side."
"I would comply with my compatriot," said another.
"That one is Italian for sure," offered Vigilante.
"I think the first one was South African," said Blue Beetle. "Queer accent that."
"We can't stay here," said Crimson Avenger. It wouldn't take much for the enemy to circle around and catch them while they were exposed.
Blue Beetle offered a solution. "I can draw their fire. Decent chance they can't get through my shell anyway. Rest of you can flank around."
"You shall not do so alone," said Shining Knight, always ready for the sacrificial play. If the man was honest about being banished from another time, it was no wonder how his impulses got him here.
"Fine by me," said Vigilante.
Beetle and Knight leapt up, running along the rim of the fortifications. Sure enough, arrows and bullets soared their way. Vigilante, Crimson Avenger and Wing, Avenger's partner headed after them on a delay, staying below the wall.
"Come on Stripsey," said Star-Spangled Kid. Typical that it was Pat's younger partner giving out orders. They went in the opposite direction, the better to encircle their aggressors.
When they rounded the end of the fortifications, the duo saw their foes. A man in a golden mask was firing arrows at Blue Beetle and Shining Knight, his bow gleaming gold with each pull of the string. The other was a well-armed cowboy type who was exchanging fire with Vigilante and Crimson Avenger. In between, Stripsey and them was a man dressed in battle armor, with a broad shield and a short sword.
"You a knight or something? We got one a those" asked Pat.
"He's a legionary. You know like the Romans," said Sylvester.
"Ah."
The legionary stamped his shield on the runway. "Address me as Invictus dogs. This is for the glory of Rome, the empire reborn. The empire everlasting"
"Uh-huh," said Stripsey. "I'm not as well read on history as my friend here, but I can tell you right now that by the time we're through, you won't be more than a footnote."
Invictus advanced, his wide shield covering most of his body. Pat couldn't tell if he was one of these powered types or just a man with a dream.
"Ramp attack?" said Stripsey.
"Ramp attack," said Sylvester.
Pat rushed the Roman. Right before he collided with the shield, he took a knee, spinning around to face Sylvester, hands cupped low. Star-Spangled Kid ran at him, stepping onto Pat's hands. Stripsey stood and swung his arms up with as much might as he could muster, sending the kid flying over their foe.
Invictus made the decision that Pat was the greater threat (too often they did), keeping his shield on him, while he slashed at Star-Spangled Kid as he landed. Sylvester rolled past the swipe, right into a punch that caught the man in the gut. The blow, enhanced by Star-Spangled Kid's stellar belt, knocked him off his feet, setting up an overhead slam by Stripsey. They left the would-be conqueror in the dirt.
"You really need to read more, buddy," said Sylvester.
"I think better with my hands."
"Well, there was your lesson on the fall of Rome."
The Flash had traveled back and forth across the same stretch of water thousands of times at this point. One might suppose that it was purely repetitive. Yet, the challenge came in the gradual shifting of the water, even as the three speedsters leveled it out with their continued efforts. The power of the oncoming wave was sufficient that they were only delaying, not containing, with Jay aware that they were at odds with an active, shaped force.
He couldn't keep this up forever. This was nearing the fastest the Flash had ever gone and to maintain it for a prolonged period was eating away at his strength. He wasn't alone in that. Jay glimpsed sweat trailing down the faces of Johnny Quick and Quicksilver each time he passed them by. They were holding up as best they could, but it was arduous work.
It was on a routine revolution that they hit a snag. Maybe it was the exhaustion or the active work of the power behind the tsunami. Quicksilver's foot hit a thick patch of water, dipping into it rather than gliding along the surface of it. He slapped down hard onto the water, ricocheting off it like a skipped stone. He vanished into the body of the tsunami.
"Dammit," said the Flash.
He matched his run to be alongside Johnny.
"I gotta get him," said Jay. "If he was fine he would have resurfaced by now; it's been nearly three seconds."
"I can't hold it alone," said Johnny.
Jay put a hand on his shoulder. "I'm not asking you to."
"But…"
"We've done what we can. This is where we put faith in our teammates."
Johnny grimaced, but nodded. He ran on to finish a final lap, while the Flash sprung into a dive, his arms squeezed against his ears as he plunged into the wave. Swimming at speed was always trickier. Jay did it so rarely he hadn't had time to learn how to apply his skills to it.
Quicksilver's limp body nearly blended in with the background underwater. He must have been stunned by the impact. The Flash kicked over to him, wrapping his arms around him and jetting out from the wave. He didn't stop till he was back on solid land, by the Hickam Air Field.
The other man spat out a gout of water. Jay helped sit him up.
"I hope I didn't just kill us all," said Quicksilver with a hoarse voice.
Iron Munro towed the sphere with Tsunami in it towards their PT boat. Neptune Perkins had surprised the crews of the boats it was attached to, subduing them without much trouble. All they had to do was free the poor girl from her containment chamber, which would hopefully dispel the wave.
"Careful. You don't want to snap that cable," said Captain Storm. He wasn't in the cabin, instead taking up a position on the rear turret, where he watched for incoming Japanese boats and planes.
She was almost to them when there was a splash to Iron's right. Someone slammed into him, knocking him off of the boat. He felt claws rake across his skin, seeking purchase, only barely defeated by his hardy nature.
Iron thrashed about in the water. His assailant let him go, circling him instead. Through blurry eyes, he saw a furry creature swim around him. He tried to strike his foe, but the beast was too fast, with each rake of the claws closer to breaking the skin.
The beast dug its claws into Iron Munro's backside. He gurgled in pain as he felt the nails breach. Relief came as Neptune yanked the creature from him. The two grappled underwater, their struggle taking them further away from Iron.
He broke the surface, swimming clumsily.
"Hurry lad. That wave is on its way," shouted Captain Storm, who leaned over the edge of the boat, aiming his machine gun.
Iron swam not for the PT boat, instead directing his efforts to the spherical prison. He tried not to think too much about the proliferation of blood in the water around him.
"That wave is coming," yelled Commander Steel. "Everyone pull back!"
The tsunami was coming in fast, stretching for miles, tall enough that Wonder Woman could no longer see the ocean behind it, or much of the sky for that matter. It touched the clouds. She flew towards it, not yet in possession of an adequate plan to slow the wave.
This was one of Diana's shortcomings, at least relative to some of her peers. She had no array of options for controlling the environment around her, like Superman's freeze breath or Green Lantern's burning constructs.
This was no time for envy. Only action mattered. Wonder Woman was mighty, but might alone wouldn't save everyone on the coast. She needed a way to counteract the forces at work.
Another force. Diana held up her bracelets, extending her arms fully at both sides. She brought the bracelets crashing together as forcefully as she could, ignoring the strain on her body as she did so. A concussive wave rocked out from their collision, pushing back against the tsunami.
Seconds bought. Seconds might be all that matter.
"In need of a hand?" said Superman. His hair was slicked to his forehead, his costume soaked.
"Thank Hera. I feared we lost you," said Diana.
Superman winked. "Not a chance. Now let's see what we can do to stop this wave."
He let out a long exhale of frost breath that formed a wall of ice, flying along the length of the tsunami. Strangely, wherever the ice reached the wave itself, it shattered immediately, as though the water rebelled at the very idea of being frozen. Wonder Woman continued to let out concussive impacts along the way. They remained at a disadvantage without Green Lantern or Doctor Fate.
Iron Munro clambered up the side of the metal sphere. He could see Tsunami thrashing within, caught in the grip of a private nightmare. He pressed his hand on the exterior and began to apply pressure.
A wicked sensation sliced through Iron's mind. His vision split. Was he here at Pearl Harbor? Or back in his father's island watching it burn? He tried to keep pushing, but the echoes of dread dulled his sense of place. He could feel the heat of the fire lapping at his face, smell the smoke and the burning wires.
That scream… His father..his mother, caught in the flames. Iron ran into the blazing laboratory, blinded by the smoke and choking on it.
Jonathan Law stopped running as the shadow of the wave covered the base. His instincts screamed at him to keep going, but there was no escape, not from anything of this scale. Superman and Wonder Woman themselves were fighting to stop it to no avail. At least that absolved him of trying in some respects.
His mind was already working out how best to transcribe the scene into text. The way it blotted out everything for miles. The realization that the wind had ceased, as the wall of water blocked it.
A shame he wouldn't get the chance.
The tsunami was seconds away from crashing. Captain Storm snapped his head back to the spherical device. Iron Munro sat on it, blank eyed and slack, as if he had lost consciousness. Neptune Perkins was down in the water, fighting that mangy Nazi. Shooting the sphere hadn't worked.
Maybe it was too late already. Captain Storm aimed the gun at Iron Munro. He hoped he wasn't imagining it earlier when he saw those bullets bounce off of him.
He pulled the trigger.
Iron Munro ran to where his mother was crying for help. She was trapped underneath a pile of burning wreckage, only the panic of her eyes visible through the haze of smoke and flame. Every step took him no closer, the distance only stretching out. He wouldn't reach his mother in time.
His mother.
His mother.
Iron Munro's mother.
Iron Munro didn't know his mother. His father had often told him he didn't have one, not in any conventional sense.
He gasped, the last bullet bouncing off of him. His legs straddled the sphere, as it rocked in the ocean.
"Wake up man!" screamed Captain Storm.
Iron Munro placed his hands on the exterior of the sphere and squeezed.
The railway fell away. The camps fell away. Miya's home fell away. Her family fell away.
The rage, the hatred, the sheer, gnawing primal terror fell away.
What was left was the ocean, the ebb and flow of every particle of water under her power, every drop that had been harnessed into a weapon of mass destruction. A weapon that would vindicate every fear here to destroy.
She felt the wave, a wave far larger than any she dreamed herself capable of controlling, about to crash down and wipe it all away. Not just Pearl Harbor. Not just the military base. But, Honolulu. And its people. The good and the bad. The righteous and the wicked. A flood that would claim them all.
Miya let the wave break. She let it collapse. Back to the ocean. Back to where it belonged.
Then she turned her attention to Sea Wolf. With a curl of her finger she yanked him from the water, ensnared in that which he had called his domain. She could hear him talking, threatening, rationalizing, then pleading.
Miya no longer needed to listen to men like him.
Batman cleared his throat after around a minute of applying his cutting torch to the exterior of the Namazu. "It's ineffective."
Black Canary was disappointed, but not surprised. Their boat was right next to the enormous vessel, moored via one of Batman's grappling hooks. Remaining this close, in the open, was a risk. If they weren't smashed into the hull by a rogue wave, they'd be spotted by its escorts. Or one of the Japanese superhumans who continued to flit through the clouds in spite of their tsunami falling apart. Getting into the ship had proven to be a challenging prospect.
"We've done it your way. Let me try mine," said Shiera. She hefted her mace.
"Why not?" said Wildcat.
Batman stepped out of her way, as everyone huddled on one side or the other of the boat, not wanting to get the business end of her mace. The weapon smacked the metal hull of the vessel, producing an uncanny ringing noise that forced Dinah and her allies to cover their ears. Even Shiera was stunned.
"That's not right," she said, staring at her mace, mouth agape.
"So we're stuck out here," said the Atom.
"Maybe not," said Red Bee. Everyone turned to look at him.
"Nothing was working, so I sent a few of my bees out to take a look. They may have found us a way in."
"Your bees told you this?" said Wildcat.
"They did." If Red Bee noticed Wildcat's incredulity, he did not show it. "There's a hatch about sixty feet up, that way," he said, pointing. "The exterior is the same type of metal as the hull, but there's enough of a gap that we can work the interior latch."
"Oh, only sixty feet up along smooth metal. Easy," said the Atom.
Batman and Sandman both produced grappling guns.
Johnny Thunder was heavier than Dyna-mite expected, particularly after dragging him several hundred feet. He continued to steal glances back at the crumbling building, where he had left TNT. He tried not to think about his mentor up against those maniacs. Alone. Or how much blood Johnny had lost. Or the poison.
"Keep it together Dan," he muttered.
The fizzle that ran through his nerves was fading. He would need another charge soon. Which meant TNT would too. No. He couldn't fixate on that. He had a job to do, a life to save.
He was within a few hundred feet of the hangar that the All-Star Squadron was using as a makeshift rallying point when a blade nicked his arm. Dan laid Johnny down, whirling around, in time to avoid a second weapon.
Fledermaus awaited him, his cape shredded, the right sleeve of his costume in tatters. He was hunched over, breathing heavily. His raggedy state had little impact on how much fear he inspired in Dan. He couldn't be much older than the hero, but he was a real killer, no doubt about it.
"You..you are not getting away from us," said Fledermaus.
Dyna-mite's arm stung. Was it poisoned too or was that just the pain of being cut? He got between the villain and Johnny's body.
"It would have been better to stay and die with your companion," said the Nazi.
A mind game. It was all Dan could rationalize. The blood rushed between his ears, his cheeks growing hot. The last of his power crackled around his fingertips.
Dyna-mite lunged at Fledermaus. He put too much momentum into the charge, overshooting the nimble villain as Fledermaus rolled past him. The German swept Dan's leg from under him. His back hit the ground hard.
Fledermaus seized his moment, pouncing on Dyna-mite. Spindly fingers wrapped around Dan's throat as his attacker began to throttle him. He tried to lift his arms, but the villain had his knees on them, his fully bodyweight pinning him.
"Die for me. Die for me," Fledermaus repeated maniacally.
Dan's eyesight exploded out into a field of blurry colors and double vision as the darkness set in. He scraped his palm over the concrete, searching for purchase, finding none. Atomic power concentrated in Dan's right hand. Using what little flex he had in his wrist, he slapped the ground.
Shards of concrete burst from the ground. Some of it found its way into Dyna-mite's shoulder. A decent portion must have hit Fledermaus, judging from the boy's screams. His fingers left Dan's throat, letting him roll to his knees and swallow air.
"You swine, you mongrel," Fledermaus spat.
The German had no chance for retaliation as a cluster of pellets rolled beside him. A black cloud puffed around him. There was the sound of brief struggle, before Fledermaus fell face first out of the cloud. Doctor Midnight stepped out after him.
"He needs help," whimpered Dan, hand extended to Johnny Thunder as the poison put him under.
One might have thought that Batman had been on this ship before from how confidently he led the group of heroes through its underbelly. Liberty Belle followed him without a word, as they crept deeper into the beast. Red Bee's hatch had worked, an exhaust port or something of the like. Beyond a pair of quietly subdued technicians, they hadn't encountered any of the crew.
Batman halted as the group came to a junction. "Hm. We're going to need to work in two groups."
"You think that's wise? This place has got to take a lot of bodies to run," said Black Canary.
"We'll never cover enough ground all together."
Libby didn't love the idea, but it was a gargantuan ship. So large, she couldn't even feel that they were on the ocean, so little did the whims of the waves mean anything to this behemoth.
"He's right," said Hawkwoman.
"Without schematics, we're looking for targets of opportunity. The engines, the bridge, the power nullifier. Whatever we can find that shuts this thing down," said Batman.
They divided up into two groups. Batman, Black Canary, Red Bee and Hawkwoman would go straight, while Liberty Belle, Sandman, Wildcat and Atom would go left. She wasn't sure it was wise to have the two that kept bickering in the same group, but she never got a choice to voice those concerns.
The group wound their way through the vast machine, each turn taking them deeper into a labyrinth of corridors. Few crew members were to be found, brought down with swift force when they were. Each of them wore the same masks and dragon insignia as their fellows that had made up the invaders.
"You never see these folks in the newsreels," said Wildcat.
It wasn't much longer when they heard, or rather felt, a rumble that reverberated through the halls. Libby imagined some primordial machine heart, beating oil and flame. Sandman set their course towards the rumble. The din grew louder with each step.
Their journey brought them to an expansive room, which they could observe from an elevated catwalk around twenty feet up from the base. Libby's imagination was not all that far off as the source of the noise. It was as though they had trapped a star within an armored cylinder, the intense light shunted out of twin rotating glass portals. Thick pipes fed into the cylinder, which traced the length of the ceiling and floor of the chamber, vanishing off into a circulatory system that gave life to the behemoth.
"Get down," said Sandman.
The group huddled behind railing. Below, an assembly of masked men soot guard, while others of their kind worked the machine, adjusting valves, switches and knobs. An extended bank of instruments spit out incomprehensible figures.
"I suppose this qualifies as one of those targets of opportunity," said Wildcat.
"You get brighter every minute," whispered the Atom.
"Hush," said Libby, "You're liable to get us…"
She trailed off as a door below them slid open. A towering man in a black suit entered, flanked by an escort of armed soldiers. She knew who he was even before he reached a proper angle. His was a face Libby had seen in dreams for years on end. The one who killed her father.
Vandal Savage.
Sandman was saying something now, laying out a plan for how they could sabotage the power supply, preferably when this new group left the room, but Libby wasn't listening. All she could think of was how unbothered Savage was as he conferred with the technicians. Unbothered by the suffering he had caused so many. Caused Libby.
She was over the railing before the Atom could so much as reach for her. Libby hit the metal floor, dropping into a somersault before coming to a halt behind Savage.
"You," she said, ignoring the various guns that were now pointed her way.
Vandal Savage, turned around leisurely, as if bemused by the unfolding events. "The reports of intruders were correct then." His eyes squinted slightly, as if there was a glint of recognition. "Have you something to tell me, before my men kill you?"
"I'm here to end you. To pay you in kind for what you did to my father."
A smile tugged at the corners of Vandal Savage's weathered, scarred face. "If only you had any inkling of how often this happens to me."
"Plastic Man, talk to us," said Miss America.
Their stretchy friend had become less and less vocal with each pulse, which were happening every fifteen seconds at this point. If not for Plastic Man, the chain of pillars would be complete, shaking the island apart.
Starman continued to cut away at the earth below the seismic pillar, having produced a miniature strip mine in the clearing. The metal branched out the deeper down he dug, as through it was a root system. He had to be cautious with his beam, as every time it touched the metal, new branches formed, the pillar fighting the attempt to uproot it.
"Starman. He's not doing well," said Miss America.
"I'm nearly there." Ted hoped that his prediction was correct, that breaking off one pillar from the network would disrupt the entire feedback loop.
He was on what was likely the final thread of the root system, when Ted heard the plane overhead.
"That's not one of ours," said Miss America.
From the sound of it, the plane made one pass, then another, coming around for a third time. Miss America inhaled sharply.
"It's bombing us."
Starman decided too sluggishly, worried that stopping now would only give the pillar time to reform. That Plastic Man was seconds from giving out. That their failure would mean the death of an island. The bombs raced to their target, unimpeded.
Out of the corner of his eye, Miss America raised her hands. There was a blue flash of light. Ted blinked it away.
A few seconds later and no one was dead. Starman clipped off the last piece of rock, using the gravitational setting of the rod to create a scaffold around the pillar, plucking it out like a thorn. He kept it raised above the earth, concerned that it would renew its process should he set it down.
Miss America was sitting down, massaging her temples. A red flower settled on Starman's shoulder. A light rain of them drifted by.
"Are you okay?" said Ted.
"I will be...just a migraine. I get them when I use my powers."
He wasn't aware she had any. "Is that why we're still alive?"
"I think so. It's hard to explain how they work," she said, face scrunched in discomfort.
A red, black and yellow substance oozed from pillar's gaps. Plastic Man pooled himself together, not appearing entirely solid.
"We win boss?"
"Close enough," said Starman.
"Aces. What's the matter, Miss America? Don't get bent out of shape. That's my job."
"Concentrate fire on the destroyer. All batteries together now. On my mark. Fire!" bellowed Commander Steel. Beside him, Airwave tapped into the radio, broadcasting his commands to the remaining coastal guns. It was good to exercise more than his raw might for once.
A chorus of firepower rang out. The grey form of the destroyer blossomed into a plume of smoke and fire as enough of the shots reached their mark. He repeated this pattern, coordinating the defenders against the attacking fleet. No sense in letting the enemy regroup. Superman, Wonder Woman and Tsunami were holding off the Japanese superhumans, the ones that maintained what was left of the storm.
The sole point of failure was against their flagship, which sloughed off the coastal rounds without concern.
Al Pratt would have lost the bet on which one of their group was going to blow their lid first. He figured that Wildcat would get his whiskers in a bunch and do something dumb. Instead, it was Liberty Belle that jumped headfirst into an all-out brawl. But, that was the job. You didn't get to pick where and when the fisticuffs began.
He sailed from the railing overhead, landing on one of the many masked gunmen. Wildcat, for his many shortcomings, had had the same instincts, crashing into the ranks of the would-be defenders of this vessel. A masked man that was fixing to give them a taste of lead got an early night's sleep as Sandman opened up on them from above, using that hard powder mix.
Liberty Belle was busy, having her own personal tussle with the fellow who ate more than his share of wheat cakes. He was a giant, even beyond Al's standards (not that he'd ever admit it.) She was going to town on him, not that it fazed the brute. The Atom made up his mind to work his way over to their side of the battle. He threw a man over his shoulders, broke another one's arm, then leap frogged over a third.
The big brute was saying something to Liberty Belle as he swung at her with those meaty hands. "..I was hoping for the Hawks, seeing as we have unfinished business, but you will suffice." She scampered out of the way of a blow that left a dent in the flooring. Al hustled, elbowing, kneeing and shoving through the melee.
"Unfortunately I cannot recall the genesis of our animosity. Perhaps you could enlighten me?"
Liberty Belle didn't answer the man in words. Instead, she screamed with as much hate as Al had ever heard, driving her fists into the man's face, neck and sides. Al knew what was coming, when a fighter was taking the hits to win the day. The brute snatched her wrist mid-swing, lifting her up, till she dangled.
"You need to work harder than that," taunted the man.
The Atom buried his head down, putting his full weight into his shoulder as he smashed into the giant's back. The guy was solid, but physics were physics and he gave enough ground. Al reached his arms around the man's thick midsection, exploiting that moment of imbalance to swing him around, driving him to the ground. Somewhere in there Liberty Belle got free. She wasted no time resuming her attack, kicking at the big man while he was down. The Atom tried for a fresh hold, grasping at his shoulders and neck.
Al had been in a lot of fights, enough that he considered himself a subject matter expert. Running with the Justice Society had put his tutelage under Joe Morgan to the test. He had come to posses a keen sense for understanding when the momentum of a given fight was about to shift, for better or worse. Which was how Al understood what was about to happen when his cape went taut. He lost his hold as the giant whipped him around, a human sling. He experienced a couple seconds of flight before his back slammed into the railing above, still leaving the painful drop back to the ground.
He tried to get up without much success, his body wracked with pain. Liberty Belle didn't escape unscathed, as she was tossed across the room, vanishing from the Atom's sight. A boot planted itself on Al's back, reacquainting his face with the floor.
The brute shifted, interrupted. The muted thuds of direct punches landed in rapid succession, coupled with grunts of exertion and pain. The pressure on Al's back was lifted, though his limbs did not want to cooperate still. From the edge of his vision, he watched Wildcat work their foe, an animated punching bag, ducking and weaving through each swipe of the man's thick hands. Al could see what Wildcat could not.
"He's..boxing you in," said the Atom, his voice too weak to reach his teammate.
The brute had backed Wildcat into a corner, where his speed no longer did him any favors. Wildcat was undeterred, letting loose a series of strikes, to try and brute force his way out of the situation. It came up short. The giant dropped him with a single blow that landed on the costumed hero's shoulders.
Al continued to struggle with getting up. The brute ran a hand through his hair, slicking it back, while he appraised the aftermath. Wildcat was out, Liberty Belle out of sight and Al had no idea what had happened to Sandman. The giant stomped back over to the Atom, erasing all his hard won progress with a kick to the side. Al cursed and clutched his ribs. The brute crouched down, seizing him by the mask. Fingers curled around his head.
"Remember this moment. Remember how you were at my mercy." The fingers dug in, enough that Al got the picture. "Let it eat at you, keep you up at night. Let it burn. I want that anger next time."
He bounced Al's head on the metal flooring, causing it to go dark.
Lighting ricocheted off of Wonder Woman's bracelets. The Japanese superhuman that cast it at her retreated further into the clouds. They were no match for her up close and they knew it. Below, Superman wrestled with the wind as the one they called Susanoo threw the full force of the tempest at him.
Their contest was disrupted when a prodigious clamor rang out from the metal leviathan. The fish ship rocked from an unknown malady. A blast tore through the left flank of the vessel.
Wonder Woman disregarded her pursuit, joining Superman. Susanoo had taken the chance to fade into the grey cloud bank.
"You said we had people going there?" said Superman.
"It would appear they were successful," said Wonder Woman. The leviathan was already listing to its left.
Al Pratt's temple was swollen, throbbing with pain. Blood or water dripped from his forehead. It was only after he got up that he realized there was water up to his knees.
The generator room had gone through an aggressive remodeling after he lost consciousness. The energy source was no longer entirely contained in its cylinder, instead it was venting a hole through what looked like the rest of the ship, which accounted for the influx of seawater.
"Libety Belle? Sandman? Wildcat" said Al. No replies.
He found Wildcat taking a boxer's nap, his back slumped against a wall. It was a miracle he hadn't drowned. Al couldn't rouse him. He settled for painfully slinging the man over his back. Joe Morgan would be proud. Al's thighs were less pleased, pleading with each slow step.
"You ain't drowning here. I'd never hear the end of it from Shiera," said Al for his own benefit.
The stairs hadn't collapsed, but the doorway had. There was just enough space to tantalize. He couldn't squeeze through with Wildcat. The water lapped at the top of the stairs.
If not for Red Bee navigating a path through the collapsing halls with his bees. If not for Black Canary for taking down the gunman who had a clear shot. If not for Hawkwoman being able to break down the blast door to the control room. If not for Batman having improved his explosive charges after trouble he and Robin had had with one of Joker's deathtraps, they wouldn't have worked on the thick windows in the control room. If not for Wonder Woman and Superman being close enough to pull them for the water so they didn't end up dragged down by the undertow or crushed by flaming debris as it shed from the craft.
Liberty Belle was sure Vandal Savage had gone this way. There were only so many paths, especially now that the ship was breaking apart. He hadn't deigned to finish her off. His mistake. She ignored the smoke, the water that spurted through widening seams in the halls.
"Liberty Belle!" someone shouted, echoing through the murk.
Sandman. He was alive. But, she was close. Savage couldn't get away. Not when she was this close. Not after he had smirked at her with that murderous face.
"Liberty Belle I need you!"
Libby wasn't certain when it happened. Maybe it was the desperation in Sandman's cry. Maybe it was simple cowardice on her part. She got turned around, back towards where he was shouting from. Sandman was hunched by a crumpled hallway, with water pooling from the far end. One of the lenses on his gas mask was gone, revealing a wide and wild eye.
"Thank goodness. They're trapped. Atom and Wildcat."
Through the wreckage Libby could see the dark forms of her companions, on the wrong side of too much metal.
"I can't lift that. I couldn't even fit through that," said Libby. She understood Sandman's desperation.
"What about your powers?"
"Shake it apart? If you want this whole level to come down, sure."
"What other choice do we have?" said Sandman.
"I promise I won't hold it against you if you squish us," said the Atom. His voice was weak, wavering with pain. "Beats drowning anyway."
Libby shook her head, but she kneeled by the wreckage all the same. It was her reckless haste that caused this calamity. Their lives were on her head. She put her hands on the metal, concentrating on it, on keeping her vibrations in this tight space. Any wide discharge would mean catastrophe.
The debris shook, lightly, then faster, faster, with small pieces falling away. A beam sheared off, broken by the stress. The hall around them groaned.
"Keep going," urged Sandman. "Be ready to run," he said to the Atom.
Another chunk dropped, the larger bits falling apart. It hit its critical moment as the way cleared. The structure voiced its displeasure. The Atom half-ran, half-stumbled through, Wildcat's head bouncing on his shoulder.
"Come on, come on. Hurry," said Libby.
An unseen support snapped, the hall caving in conclusively. The Atom fell forward, a second before the space behind him crumpled up. Sandman and Libby helped him up.
"My name was about to mean something much more literal."
"Stop this American. I yield," said Rising Sun.
He didn't have to tell Green Lantern twice. Still, he kept his personal barrier up. For a reluctant combatant, the man had put up a hell of a fight, as the charred remains of a sugar cane field attested to.
"I love my country. Do you American?"
A complicated question for Alan. "I love what it wants to be. What it wishes it was."
Rising Sun gave him a smile tinged with bitterness. "I am the same. I was a scientist. Am a scientist. Yet, for too long I have been companion to nothing but death."
A flame lit around the man's hand. Alan must have reacted because Rising Sun chuckled a hollow laugh. "This is no trick. These abilities...they cost me dearly. They cost many before me everything. Did yours exact a price?"
The train. The terrible cacophony of metal and fire. Jimmy. The ring. "Yes."
"Perhaps no such power comes without it."
Dragon King followed Vandal Savage through the flooded hallways. He had left the control room only after making sure he had dispatched the staff. Their escape route was limited in its capacity and his men, devout though they were, were not infallible. As today had demonstrated. They could not be granted the luxury of falling into the enemy's hands.
Their salvation was a submarine, piloted by one of Savage's lackeys, a flamboyant Nazi going by the crass moniker of Baron Death. Dragon King half-expected the betrayal to arrive here, as he boarded the vessel, a perfect moment of vulnerability. Instead, he was whisked away, into the deep water. His shame was victory enough for his supposed allies.
Superman had dropped off both groups of heroes that escaped the sinking hulk of the ship when he heard a worrying noise coming from it. A thorough scan of his x-ray vision, able to penetrate now that it was full of holes, revealed that its power source was on a quick route to exploding. The last, vindictive act of its crew had been to set it on a course towards shore. Damaged, taking on water and slow, an explosion of the magnitude he could predict would be trouble if it was anywhere in sight of the shore.
He pushed low and Wonder Woman pushed high. Green Lantern arrived before too long, generating a series of struts that kept the whole thing in one piece as they drove it into deeper water. Tsunami joined them, turning the currents to their purposes.
Their pace remained too slow. Superman ran through the options, all the ways they could dampen the blast. He continued to find fault in each one. He was so busy fixating on the challenge, he didn't notice at first when the load lightened that little bit more.
"Sorry sir," said Captain Marvel. "We had a crisis of our own in Fawcett." His younger ally was alongside him, helping move the load as well.
"You're just in time Captain."
Mister America picked his way through the rubble of the building, careful to make as little noise as possible. Each bit of crumbled wall threatened to give him away. He braced against the husk of a doorway.
Inside, TNT loomed over Der Uhu, who had been wedged beneath a hunk of the ceiling. The hero was readying a final blow against the German operative. He never got the chance. TNT dropped to the ground. Mr. America rubbed his wrist.
"That one will cost you," said Mr. America.
"Get me out of here," hissed Der Uhu. "Before more of your heroes come."
"I have conditions."
"We do not have time for this."
Mr. America made like he was leaving.
"Stop. Stop. Go on," said Der Uhu.
"Don't get spotted. You don't get to kill him," he said, nudging TNT with his foot. "This risks enough exposure. His death would get detectives involved. I'm good, but I'm not Batman good."
"Yes, yes," said Der Uhu.
"And next time, tell your masters to give me forewarning. I nearly died fighting your damn invasion today. The least they owe me is a chance to prepare."
"All can be arranged. Now free me."
Mr. America liked seeing the Nazi squirm. It would be mighty enjoyable to leave him here. Instead, he buried that feeling and helped lift off the rubble. The German crawled out, cursing in his native tongue.
"Get going. My side has won. They'll be by soon."
Der Uhu made to leave.
"Oh, one more thing," said Mr. America, stopping him. "I know where they've got your son."
It was around two minutes after Captain Marvel and Jr. flew by that the last rain cloud came to dump on Black Canary's parade. She was busy checking up on the wounded when the Japanese cruiser, untouched by the coastal guns opened fire on the base.
The first salvo was largely stopped through a combination of Doctor Fate, Sargon the Sorcerer, Starman and Miss America. Even then, a few shells got through, one of them cracking open a coastal fortifications. Their own heavy hitters were occupied with the giant ship.
"Just our luck," mumbled Al Pratt, still loopy from his head injury. "I survive all that and these bums are gonna rub us out."
Dinah couldn't watch as the guns erupted again. She heard screams and shouts. No pain though. No sudden engulfing of flame and shrapnel. Was this death? Heaven? Oblivion? Hell?
That last thought bore some relevancy as Dinah finally worked up the courage to open her eyes. The reason for her continued existence was apparent as was the impetus for the screams.
The Japanese cruiser wasn't in the water anymore, instead being held in green gloved hands, as one would cradle a bath toy. Taller than reason, than comprehension, with that same air of indignant menace towered the Spectre. Without the slightest trace of hesitation, the Spectre crumpled the cruiser up.
"My god," said Tarantula.
He may have been right.
Captain Storm was back at the docks when the leviathan went up, a brief, second sun that set the horizon ablaze before sizzling out. The sky was starting to clear, against all odds, heralding the return of blue. He fished his pipe out of his shirt pocked. Storm chuckled.
Someone sat down next to him. Iron Munro. Perkins had to be out in the water still, helping that Tsunami girl.
"I'm not sharing," said Captain Storm.
"I wouldn't want you to."
"Shame we didn't get the bastards."
"You sure we didn't?"
Not in the way he had wanted. Not in the way that filled the gap of his crew. If that was ever an option.
"You made a difference here captain," said Iron. "Maybe the difference."
He waved his pipe at Iron. "Don't go getting sentimental. All I did was drive a boat. These caped folks were the ones that did the heavy lifting."
"There could be a place for you in all this. Neptune and I are thinking of staying, pitching in."
It was Storm's turn to laugh. "I know what you're going for lad, but don't mistake me for anything more than I am. A one-eyed, one-legged sailor."
"What now then?"
"I suppose I need a new boat."
June 9, 1942
The reports inspired a migraine in Wesley Dodds. They were preliminary, a shade of what the official, published version would look like, but they served his purposes for now. The rational part of him understood that they had done what was asked of them. It remained the losses that stood out. While there was no denying that the All-Star Squadron's intervention prevented an unmitigated disaster, they had not emerged without loss. Around thirty personnel from Pearl Harbor were killed with dozens more wounded. An entire squadron of planes destroyed. Two hangars collapsed, with around eight more buildings damaged, including one of the fuel tanks.
The Squadron had paid their own pound of flesh. Yellow Jacket was gunned down by a squad of invaders. Ibis the Invincible, one of Doctor Fate's compatriots, slain by a pair of German operatives. Less than his namesake. Bulletman perished when he fell from a considerable height after their powers were lost. Nearly half of the heroes were injured.
They had captured two Japanese superhumans, Rising Sun and Amaterasu, along with nearly two hundred of the invading soldiers. The only Axis Alliance member successfully detained was Iron Cross. The others had been freed in the last stretch of the crisis. The massive ship had detonated, but they were combing the water for pieces to study.
Something didn't fit, that niggling prick of doubt. Wesley ignored the migraine and started from the top.
King Faraday and General Mercer entered the Perisphere's meeting room. Wonder Woman, Superman, Hawkman, Liberty Belle, Green Lantern, Commander Steel and Tsunami awaited them. Faraday had an inkling of what was about to be dropped in their lap. From the general's reaction, he could tell the man was less prepared as he greeted them.
"I admit I was somewhat surprised when you requested a meeting so soon after the attack. I should know that for people of your inclinations, the country's needs never wait," said General Mercer.
"That is what we're here to talk about general," said Superman.
Faraday noted the fading smile on the general. He had clocked the somber atmosphere. The potential animosity.
"We need to talk about the internment of the Japanese people," said Hawkman.
"My people," said Tsunami.
General Mercer stiffened, almost imperceptibly. "A regrettable decision. One driven by security concerns and public fears. A decision that is in no way under my control."
"Yet you have access to those with control. You represent their interests," said Wonder Woman.
The general did not respond.
"It has to end. Immediately," said Superman. "We are no better than our enemies if we behave like this."
"I don't disagree with the principle, but these are political realities we're discussing. A lot of effort and money has been invested in the safe and secure transfer of the Japanese people to these camps."
"We're talking about people's lives. They're worth the money and more," said Green Lantern.
This wasn't a rush job. They had prepared for this moment. Faraday could see it in their stances, their unity. No one was glancing at one another. No nervousness given away.
"A Japanese American was largely responsible for saving our collective asses at Pearl Harbor," said Hawkman. "Without Tsunami, there would be no Pearl Harbor. Or Honolulu. Or All-Star Squadron for that matter. Yet, virtually no paper has reported that fact."
"Except for the Daily Planet," said Faraday. His observation was unappreciated.
Tsunami addressed them earnestly. "I am an American. My family is American. Our lives were built here. I don't know how else I can prove my loyalty to this country. If this didn't do it, nothing will."
"Folks, I agree with all of this, I do. But, that doesn't make it viable for the president."
"How viable will it be if the Squadron and the Justice Society make it known they take issue with his policies?" said Green Lantern.
"How will it play when President Roosevelt looks out the Oval Office tomorrow and sees us waiting for him?" said Hawkman.
"Careful son," said General Mercer, his veneer of civility slipping. "That sounded dangerously close to a threat."
"Consider it protest, general. Our right," said Superman.
"We have the backing of the Squadron," said Liberty Belle.
"Commander, what do you have to say for yourself?" said General Mercer, turning to the military man.
"Sir, I admit to hesitance on my part, but they are correct. My life and the lives of countless others are owed to Tsunami. If her people show even half the courage and tenacity she displayed in Pearl Harbor, they would be the best of us."
"Is that so? Hmmm," said Mercer.
"We are here to serve the people general. Not an administration," said Wonder Woman. "There can be no peace while people are deprived of their freedom. Not abroad. Not here
General Mercer was backed into a corner. He could refuse, but this group would go through with their protests. Faraday wasn't certain how that would go down in the long run. All he was certain about was that it would get ugly.
"I'll see what I can do," said the general. "You have given me much to think about."
The general and the group dispersed. Faraday hung around after they left.
"You can come out now."
A shadow split from the wall. Batman landed near him without so much as a sound.
"I'm surprised they didn't have you with them. Here to contribute to the extortion?" said Faraday.
"I don't think that will be required."
"Humor me."
"We know that Tsunami phoned someone from Vanguard. Right before she got kidnapped by Axis agents. That's not coincidence."
"Flimsy."
"Coupled with the loss of those prisoners? One doesn't need to be a detective to read into that."
"Banking on public mistrust? How cynical. You could undermine the war effort with that."
"Your government is undermining our people with your camps," said Batman.
Faraday waved the thought away. "Save your blackmail. Mercer will fold. Just the thought of Superman on the president's lawn will give him an ulcer."
That was all Faraday had to hear. He made to leave, turning as he got to the exit.
"I'd wouldn't get too comfortable. You're not as beloved as the company you keep. Superman, Wonder Woman, the Flash, those are heroes. You though, most of your own city doesn't like you. Director Hoover's been dying to have his boys take a crack at you. So remember, one day this war will be over. We might not have room for a ghoul."
Batman melded back into the shadows of the unlit room. "I wouldn't project Agent Faraday."
June 12, 1942
Bushwhacker peeked through the blinds. No cops. Still, every pedestrian made hims sweat.
"Tell him to stop. He's making me nervous," said Usil. The archer was restringing his bow, his own tic.
They were in an abandoned house in California, having stowed away in the hold of a freighter. Hawaii was crawling with military and police, looking for their kind. The price of putting any faith in a backwards nation of savages.
"Sebastian, relax. No one knows we are here," said Der Uhu. The Nazi spook and his son gave Sebastian the creeps, but he was what passed for a leader amongst their outfit, especially now that Iron Cross was imprisoned.
He left the blinds, stomping over to the table. "What now then? We sit here forever?"
"Nein my friend. Nein. Now comes the hard part."
"What?"
"We go to ground. We become someone else. We wait and watch and weaken. Valkyrie will regroup. Iron Cross will be freed. Today's losses will be avenged."
June 14, 1942
"Are you sure?" said Carter.
Ted wished he could communicate properly to Carter and the others gathered around his workstation in the JSA headquarters just how certain he could be. How he checked and double-checked and triple-checked and had Batman and the Flash and the Atom do their own tests.
"As sure as I can be."
The fragment was the only one Ted recovered from the attack. The rest had been swept up by the government, kept locked in their own facilities. Vanguard or an equivalent, no doubt.
"It's resistant or impervious to nearly every form of energy I could think of. It can conduct and disperse impossibly high voltages. It's atomic structure is beyond the complexity of any substance I worked with. And it's the exact same material as that which makes up your mace and harness."
"Nth metal," said Carter. "We know it as Nth metal." Where that information came from, Ted had no clue.
"How do the Japanese have it?" said Shiera.
"I don't know, but I would bet my doctorate on the fact that this is the same material as those war wheels in Russia and that flying fortress the Blackhawks shot down over Britain. Nothing else comes close to matching the profile."
"Does this coincide with what you found from studying the Japanese superhumans?" said Black Canary.
"No, as a matter of fact. The signature I got off of the Nth metal as Carter refers to it and the Japanese superhumans are two distinct forms of cosmic radiation."
"Distinct?" said Carter.
"These are not coming from the same sources. In fact, I have a working theory that the Nth metal was on loan from the Germans. There has been no other reports of Japanese forces using that material, while its consistent in Europe. Likewise, Iron Cross hasn't got a whiff of whatever's on these Japanese operatives."
"The more we know, the more we need to know," said Shiera.
"The joys of science," said Ted.
July 1, 1942
Miya Shimida was at a train station. She was not alone. Each moment threatened to undo the last, to at last reveal that this was a fantasy. That she waited for no one.
The train pulled up at the platform, its windows packed with bodies, each passenger with the same wonderment and desperation Miya knew to be on her own face. When the doors opened and they flooded out, she whirled about, looking and not seeing.
Until she did. Her mother, her father. Her brother and sister. Her aunt and uncle and cousins. Her people. It was not till she was in their arms, the tears running down her cheeks, born of relief, that Miya was sure this was no dream.