Colonel Flag stood at his side along with another guard. They each had their machine guns aimed right at his head.

Victor just sat on his bed mattress, hands at his sides. He watched as a few men moved equipment into his room, then proceeded to put it together. It was some sort of computer station, if he were to guess.

Amanda Waller stood not too far away, also watching the assembly of the parts. This had been going on for nearly half an hour. Their sudden appearance had jarred Victor out of his sleep. He hadn't said a thing, just watched while his guards made certain he didn't make an ill-advised move.

"What is all of this?" he eventually asked. He could guess, but he wasn't in the mood for games.

"What does it look like, inmate?" Waller answered his question with another question. She was blunt in tone, but there was a hint of amusement there as well.

"It looks like a computer station."

"Then it is exactly what it looks like."

Victor faced forward, but his eyes stared in the direction of his new warden. "I fail to see the reason why you are assembling this in my cell."

"You are a brilliant man, Victor," Waller responded. "And a mind that is idle is a mind that is going to waste. If there is one thing you have that the other inmates here lack, it is that mind of yours, and I would hate for it to rot unnecessarily."

He narrowed his eyes. "If you are hoping to entice me with this computer, then you can remove it. You will not sway me so easily."

"Oh? Do you not want it?" The dark-skinned woman turned to better face him. "Is there anything else you would like me to remove as well? Your mattress? Your toilet seat? How about the tray we deliver your food on?"

The bald man just stared back, unimpressed by her response.

"Those are punishments, and you have yet to get into my doghouse, Victor." Waller turned away from him, regarding the computer assembly once more. "You are correct to assume I haven't given up on recruiting you to my task force, but I would be remiss to finally convince you only to discover your mind has gone lame. We need to keep it stimulated like any good muscle."

"You could have just sent me a puzzle," he retorted.

"Are you a fan of the thousand-piece puzzles? I can have one delivered to you if you wish."

Finally, Victor looked away from the woman. He could read her like a book. She saw herself as clever, though it was clear she was aware that he knew of her tactic. She was toying with him, and he did not much care for it. "A puzzle would be more useful if you haven't modified the computer."

"What sort of modification?" she asked.

"You are placing a computer into a room that remains at below zero temperatures. The cold slows electrical currents and technological hardware. The moment that computer was placed inside of this cell, it had begun its slow demise."

"An excellent point, though it wasn't until recently that we discovered an insulating mechanism to prevent such an occurrence." Waller glanced at him. "We have you to thank for that."

Victor frowned, returning his attention back to the woman. She seemed to like the confusion he was displaying.

"It's based on your own schematics on your infamous Freeze Suit," she told him. "After all, you must have realized that same flaw when building your suit, so you took steps to prevent that from happening. We're using the same methods you did to ensure this terminal works."

"How long have you been aware of this?"

"Wouldn't you like to know."

Victor stared at her before he turned his head back to the terminal. She was trying to get him invested, and damn it, it was working. However, she must have been referring to his original suit. The GCPD had taken it into their custody when he had been arrested, though there was no telling where its location was now. It wasn't a stretch of the imagination that someone would try to reverse-engineer it at some point. No doubt Waller had done the same thing within the last few days with his updated suit.

Feeling that she was getting the upper hand, the frozen man decided to change the subject. "What sort of access does it have?"

"A limited one, I assure you. If you decide to join my task force, that access can expand. I'll let you play with this new toy and you can figure out just what you can and cannot access."

Well, it would certainly give him something to pass the time. There was no point in asking further. Much of the simple setup was complete, and the guards working on the assembly were now turning it on. Victor was content to watch as the screen lit up.

"Did you really have to pick me to come in here?"

The voice was new. Victor glanced with his eyes to the doorway to discover there was a new person present. It was a woman, one that did not look happy to be there. Like Waller and her men, she was bundled up in a parka, the hood practically swallowing up her head. Her face was visible, and she looked quite disgruntled.

"Welcome, Louise," Waller greeted her, not even bothering to look at her to acknowledge her. "Allow me to introduce you to Dr. Victor Fries."

"The Iceman," she grunted back, turning her head to look at him. "I've heard a lot about you."

"And you are?" he inquired.

"You can call me Killer Frost."

"Consider her a research assistant," Waller interjected. "She shares your proclivity with ice, so I do hope you two will get along."

An assistant? No, she was more like another guard being assigned to him under the guise as an assistant. She did not look like she was enjoying being in his cell with the way she was shivering in spite of her clothes. Without a doubt, she was one of those poor souls Waller had conned into her program, and she had to do whatever it was that was asked of her.

And now she was stuck in this frozen cell with him. Perhaps she wasn't the only poor soul present here.

This was bullshit. This was complete bullshit. Why, out of everyone here, did she have to be the one for this job?

Killer Frost tried to keep herself warm, but this damn cell was constantly blasting cold air to the point it was frigid. No sane person could survive in here. Yet, there was a guy in literally just the prison uniform and he looked as if he were out on a warm summer's day. Didn't he even feel it?

Oh, right, she forgot for a moment just who the guy was. Victor Fries, the Iceman, the guy just about every person with control of ice was compared to. She had seen her first press clippings and there was always a mention of him back then. She could remember feeling satisfied then that she was viewed as such of a threat.

But now, looking at the guy, she didn't feel that impressed. He was soft-spoken, introverted, and not the threat the papers made him out to be. Even now he was just fiddling with the computer setup Waller had just dumped in here. Oh, what was she still doing here? That's right, she was the "lab assistant."

Yeah, a scenario right out of a goddamn porn video. That's what she had been reduced to.

"Frost, I have an assignment for you," Waller said from behind her desk.

"Who do you want me to kill now," she replied, one leg bent at the knee, the other bearing her weight. She even placed a hand on her hip as she waited.

"As you know, we have a high-profile guest now: Victor Fries. Your assignment is to gain his confidence by any means necessary. Be his friend, be his lover, seduce him until he's your plaything, I don't care how."

Frost stared at the bitch. "You've got to be kidding me! You want me to fuck this guy?"

"As long as it wins you his confidence, yes."

"Do I look like a skank to you?! I don't screw people, I freeze them. I kill and kill and kill. What part of that has to do with sleeping with someone?"

Waller just stared her down. It was an unnerving look, one that made Frost feel uneasy every time she saw it. A lot of that had to do with the fact that the fat bitch could literally press a button and blow her head to bloody pieces. She very much liked keeping it in one piece. Right now, that look the woman had on her face could be anything from ignoring whatever she was hearing to contemplating how useful Frost was. That last part was a big factor in keeping her alive.

"Look, there has to be someone more qualified for this. Someone, anyone," Frost attempted to persuade.

"No, I believe you are the best qualified here," Waller responded, much to her displeasure. "Fries can't be outside of his containment unit, so I need someone that can bear with it for short periods. Your ice powers are ideal here."

You had to be kidding. Didn't they just go over this? She was practically useless up in the Arctic because—and this was very important—she couldn't use her powers. Out of everyone here, she was the worst possible person to send into a cold environment because she needed heat to use her power.

"You do realize I'll be helpless in there," she tried in a second attempt.

"Precisely."

Huh? Frost blinked her eyes owlishly at that.

"I want you to be the helpless damsel. I want Fries to not view you as the threat that you are. Your affinity for ice can be used as an opening as well. Do whatever you have to do to get results. You're young, attractive, and have the body of a supermodel. Use them."

The conversation, such as it was, didn't go much better for her. So she was expected to fuck this guy, basically. Yeah, not gonna happen. Did she look like a prison bitch? No, no she did not.

Shivering from the cold, she glanced at the Iceman, who seemed to be focused on whatever was on the computer. Waller and the others were gone, leaving just the two of them. Feeling as if she needed to have some sort of conversation going, she asked, "Does it have to be this cold in here?"

"It does," Fries answered, not even bothering to look at her.

"Why? Would it kill them to turn the heater on a bit?"

"I would die if it was any warmer."

Oh, bummer. "So you're practically sweating right now, huh?"

"I am comfortable enough."

Well, this wasn't going anywhere. Those feminine wiles Waller wanted her to use were practically non-existent. Seriously, the longest conversations she had were about who she was going to kill and how to do it. None of that made for good pillow talk.

"What exactly are you looking up?" she then asked, taking stilted steps over to the computer. If she was stuck here for who knows how long, she might as well be entertained somehow, even if it was some boring nerd stuff on a computer monitor.

Fries didn't answer immediately, just tapped the keys on the keyboard with his fingers. Then, "I know why it is that you're here."

Shit, really? They had barely spoken and he knew Waller's crappy ass plan? She froze where she stood, pun not intended.

The guy turned his head to look at her. "You are here to keep tabs on me, nothing more. Neither of us has to talk to one another for you to do your job."

Oh, well, perhaps he wasn't wrong. That may have been a secondary objective that Waller failed to tell her about, which wouldn't be the first time. Naturally she would have to report her progress at some point. No doubt Waller would want to know what Fries was working on.

"I guess you caught me," Frost admitted. "Still, it means I'm stuck in here with you and time is going by real slow. Doesn't hurt for us to talk to pass some time off."

Fries didn't respond to that, choosing instead to play with his new computer.

Yeah, this job was going well. Not.

This was some unbelievable shite. It stunk rank, it rankled his keister, and just plain pissed him off.

Stewing in his cell, Boomerang glared at the wall in front of him like it had insulted his mother and stole his dog. Not that he had ever had a dog, but the feeling was all the same. He slouched back on the piece of shit mattress that Waller had deigned to issue to everyone in this hellhole, thin, hard, and uncomfortable as it was, his long legs stretched out and bent at the knees with his feet planted firmly on the floor.

The bossy bitch that ran this place had to have come straight out of Hell, no doubt about it. The first time he laid eyes on her, he should have said no and ignored everything that had come out of her mouth. But noooo, he had sat there and heard the pitch and had stupidly liked what he had heard.

After what he had pulled? Trying to steal government property, but not just any government property, an experimental military air fortress the length of maybe seven football fields—real football, not that American football shite—and all the federal charges that had come from that, to be served consecutively, he was looking at a long, long time in the clink.

The chance to shave off some years, hell, maybe even shave off enough to get early parole, let out for "good" behavior, that had seemed like a good idea at the time. He had so much else he could do instead of rotting behind bars while in the prime of his life, so he had agreed.

If only he had known. If only he had known! When you agree to join Amanda Waller godforsaken Suicide Squad, it wasn't just one tough mission, have a break, then do another; it was do another, do another, do another; tired, what a shame, do another right now. There were no breaks. There were no pats on the back, good job, mate. And those missions! They weren't some cakewalk, oh no.

Hard as hell, dangerous beyond all reason, in a word, suicidal. But Waller expected you to go in and do the job and get out just to do it all over again.

He never should have said yes. Never.

So what the hell was up with all the preferential treatment that blue-skinned son of a bitch was getting?

Don't get him wrong, he had heard all of the stories. You couldn't escape all the coverage of any of it anyway. Mob bosses frozen in solid ice, a random rampage in the street, a bomb was involved at some point, but it had all been crazy. Scary as hell too. He'd waited a few years himself before daring to take a try at getting a piece of the Gotham pie, but there had been too much competition there and making a name for yourself when you had a bunch of freaks wearing clown makeup running around and the remaining mob bosses consolidating their positions, you looked for greener pastures as a result. The best he had been able to do was a few home invasions, but those didn't get you as much as you would think.

While he was still eking it, the legend of Gotham's Iceman grew. Some force of nature you couldn't reason with. Pray that he remained in whatever dark hole Gotham stuck him in. It was like there was some kind of boogeyman just waiting around the corner for you to slip up.

But after that little retrieval mission, Boomerang was finding that he had a different option. The big bad man of ice didn't seem so big and bad anymore. Being a sucker for a couple of polar bears? Dumb animals that were going to go extinct anyways so why not make yourself a nice throw rug out of them while you could? How he had given up after getting all of their words to not hurt a hair on their furry bodies?

That didn't seem like a big mad monster that went toe to toe with the Batman. That was…that…he didn't know what to call any of that!

What he did know, it wasn't the kind of thing a scary monster did.

And Waller was treating him with kid gloves.

It was easy to see the bitch wanted something out of Fries, but Boomerang couldn't figure out what it was. Obviously, there was something, otherwise it would be more likely he would be scrapping brain off of a wall instead of lounging about here in his little cell, jiggity jig.

It just wasn't fair. Not at all. He had put his life on the line who knows how many times, and who knows how close he had been to having his own head blown sky high? Not him. And what was the thanks he got? Go on another, who cares if you're tired, you have a debt you owe and you will pay it.

Never should have said yes. Should have stayed in Iron Heights. He had heard the weather was bearable this time of year. At least in Iron Heights, he could have kept up to date with everything happening around Central City, get all the latest on who would try to take on the Flash and find themselves either heading for bars or getting career counseling, whichever one was the flavor of the day. Snart, Rory, Mardon, Scudder…maybe not Jesse, but getting together with those other guys, teaming up to stand a chance against the fastest man alive? Those had been the days.

Hadn't seen hide nor hair of the others, so they must have had seen sense and said no. Smart bastards.

This right stunk. It really did. If only there was a way to escape Waller's clutches. The one bloke who had wasn't keen on sharing either. So he was stuck as Waller's slave, probably until the day he actually died.

There was no escape. Well, not unless you counted death, and Boomerang quite liked living, thank you very much. The little show of Waller playing nice only pissed him off at the unfairness of it all.

He needed to hurt somebody. Didn't matter who it was. Didn't care if it was Waller, that popsicle man, or whoever Waller pointed him to next, somebody was going to get punched. Or hurt. Hurt really badly.

Then maybe he could finally feel something good again.

Even if Waller may wish it, you couldn't send a team to their death all of the time. First and foremost, you needed something to send them to. If there was a lack of any viable threat or interest, that meant there was such a time as down time for the various teams.

But you couldn't just lock people like them up in boxes and expect that they retain their skills and abilities. If you wanted your tools to work, you had to do the required maintenance. This meant time out of the cells and doing training regimens. Keeping in shape, exercising, and sharpening skills were how you kept a well-oiled machine like this going.

They weren't, however, the run-of-the-mill convicts though, and so there was no way Waller was letting them roam the yard aboveground. Part of this underground facility had a gym and room specifically for using the more specialized skills. There were guards there in case anyone got out of hand, and while they were armed, they didn't necessarily have to use them.

A call to Waller and a head blew up. The woman had little tolerance for dissent on her ship. Yes, this has happened once, and once was all that was needed until the next hothead was recruited and then there was a reminder.

Other than no fighting, the rules of this gym were like any other. Wipe down equipment when you were done, take care of it and put it back where you found it, exercise patience if you were waiting on someone, and of course, no damn fighting. Yes, that had to be said twice.

Lawton was working on cardio for today. Along the wall, except where a strip where the guards kept watch, painted lines on the floor outlined a track of sorts. Stay within those bounds and you could run around this room for however long you wanted or until called or told to stop.

There was something to running that helped to clear the head. The rhythmic steps, the slight twisting of the torso from right to left, and the control needed to keep breathing steady was almost meditative. It could allow a sniper of his caliber to ignore where he was if only for a short period of time.

He wasn't alone, though. There were others and they were using the equipment stationed in the middle of this large room. Some were active with the weights, some were taking short breaks in between reps, but one thing none were allowed to do was sit there and idly gossip. Well, ideally, that last one would be enforced, but the guards were just as keen to listen in on what the convicts in this place talked to one another about.

"Yeah! That's right! One damn hundred! Five hundred in one hundred! Beat that, you pussies!"

Sometimes one of the louder ones made for entertainment while you stood around watching for trouble. Lawton tried to power his way through such noise. The person bragging here was not one he was keen on in the first place.

"You know there are people here who can pick up whole houses, right?" Lawton noted that an uncostumed Punch had given that response. Good to see he wasn't being held back from his injuries. His wife, Jewelee, was absent, but that was mostly to Waller not keeping those two in the same space unless it was a mission.

"I'd like to see your scrawny ass do the same," the braggart retorted, swollen muscles glistening with sweat. Despite the name Peacemaker, the man didn't bring a lot of peace wherever he went, more death and destruction instead.

In a morbid view of it, there was peace after Peacemaker left. There was just no one left to enjoy it.

"Will you shut up?" That was Electrocutioner, and the man's patience for Peacemaker was very limited. "I think this is the only time I agree with that bitch's no talking rule.

Lawton glanced at the guards lining the room, noting how none of them were making any moves to act. They had to have known about Waller's decrees, but they didn't seem to be in a hurry right now to enforce any of them.

"Without your little gizmos, you're nothing but a little bitch yourself," Peacemaker retorted. "I don't know why Waller tapped you. I'm right here. I can do anything you can do, but better."

"I'd like to see you try," Electrocutioner growled back. The man was standing up, and Lawton noticed how the guard he was jogging past tensed up. Preparing for action, but not about to engage just yet. "I can fry you like an egg."

"Not without your little gizmos." Peacemaker stood up, his height imposing.

A snort. "Gizmos, no gizmos, you fry all the same," Electrocutioner sneered. "I'd say your brain would go first, but I don't there's one in the first place."

"Oh, yeah? Well…I'll pull yours out! After I ram my fist up your ass! I think I can get you all the way up to my shoulder! Then I'll grab your brain and rip it right out! I can do it too! Wanna see?" The two men were drawing closer to one another, and the guards still waited. They were enjoying the show here.

"You couldn't find my ass if I drew you a map!" Electrocutioner didn't know when to shut up himself.

"I could!" Peacemaker spoke without really thinking about what he was saying.

"Come on, guys, this is getting stupid," Punch tried to intervene.

"Fuck off!" both men snapped.

Glaring at Electrocutioner, Peacemaker didn't hesitate with his next words, "I could totally fuck him better than you."

Electrocutioner gave back a look of disgust. "You have been down here way too long."

Absent of a ticking clock, Lawton substituted with his own internal one, counting down the seconds until Peacemaker began to bluster back, "That's not—you know what I mean!"

Punch was inching away, trying to put some distance between himself and the much more massive Peacemaker.

Now, this could go any number of ways, but the sniper could think of at least two. Either these two idiots would keep egging each other on until the guards actually intervened, or they let this stupid conversation die right here, right now. He had already figured that the former was more likely than the other, so he cut his cardio short to approach the two.

"Knock it off," he commanded, all attention on him. "Either use the equipment, or get out of the way. No one here is interested in a cock fight unless one of you wants to lose their head."

"Butt out unless you want some of this!" Naturally, Peacemaker was going to be testing patience.

"No one wants any of that," Electrocutioner continued to not help matters.

He'd deal with asshole number two here later. Getting asshole number one to stop was going to have to be priority number one. "I know for a second neither of you are high on Waller's list of valuable assets. None of us here are. We're all expendable and if you can't wrap your mind around that, then go ahead, press your luck. We all know how that will turn out." Right here, he pointedly looked at Peacemaker, making eye contact with the larger man. "If Waller finds out you're giving her a headache, how's that going to help your little mission to bring world peace?"

"Leave my mission out of this." Blue eyes smoldered in anger and large muscles bulged with tension, but like the guards, no actions was taken. That had to take a significant amount of self-control, something the larger man was known not to have a lot of.

"Then get back to what you're supposed to be doing, or go back to your cell. Either way, the girl talk ends now. So get back to it." Lawton continued to remain calm, staring Peacemaker down first. Electrocutioner would get his turn later.

Peacemaker sneered. "You think just because you're Waller's favorite, you can tell everyone else what to do."

"I get the results, the kind Waller likes. Maybe you should be focusing on that one yourself," Lawton returned.

For a second, Peacemaker seemed to want to lash out, but even his own training was strong enough to prevent such a break in discipline. As far as Lawton knew, there was some paramilitary training in there, and those skills were cranked to eleven with a man like this.

"Enjoy it while it lasts, pussy. I'll show you all who the toughest son of a bitch is around here, and that's—"

"You," Lawton cut in.

"—you," Peacemaker unconsciously repeated. Then he frowned. "Wait, that didn't come out right."

"Take your time and get back to me on that." Now he turned to Electrocutioner, "You get back to work too. Don't get into arguments you aren't going to win."

Another snort. "Peacemaker's right about one thing."

"And I don't care. Now knock it off."