It seemed his warning was going unheaded.
This did not please Victor in the slightest.
Killer Frost had returned to his cell the last couple of days. At first she had kept her distance after he had told her he was not interested in any advance from her. They had already spoken to each other about her continued presence here, so they both knew the true reason why she was here.
But now she was standing next to him at the computer. She wasn't displaying herself so much as she was invading his personal space. She would "accidentally" brush herself against him, whether it was a hand, her hip, or once even her breasts. Admittingly the parka made it difficult to discern if the last one had occurred, but Victor was not unfamiliar with the attempts of a female vying for his attention. It had been a long time—a very long time—but he was still aware of that social dance.
"Will you please stand back?!" he eventually snapped as she once again "bumped" into him.
"Sorry, just trying to be useful," Killer Frost retorted, her tone voicing her offense. "If I have to be locked up in this freezing ass cell of yours, I might as well do something while I'm here. Sitting on your bed the entire time is boring."
"I do not require your assistance," he pressed.
"That's too bad. Waller is requiring that I make myself useful to you. You may be able to tell her to piss off, but I can't."
"That isn't my problem."
"Yeah, you're right, it's mine. So, whether you like it or not, you're going to have to use me to do something. I'd clean for you, but it's not like you make that much of a mess." At this, the woman looked around the cell, indicating the lack of any mess. The lack of furnishings was a major contribution to this. "So what does that leave for me?"
Victor refused to respond to that. In fact, he wished she would just go away. Waller needed her spy, so he knew that wasn't going to happen. She was as much of a prisoner as he was. Forcing herself into his studies, however, was not winning her his sympathy.
"I've got a question for ya," she suddenly asked. The researcher didn't bother looking at her, which left her to fill the silence. "You spent all of this time up at the North Pole. Had to be alone, I'm guessing. Didn't you get lonely up there?"
"I did not," he answered her.
"So you liked being alone."
"I did and do."
"Was it always that way? You just being a loner?"
He paused at that question. Perhaps he should have seen where she was going with her inquiries, but having it voiced still surprised him. To be honest, he had been a loner as a child, and even a young man. Most certainly since his accident, of course. However…
"I did strive for companionship once," he admitted after several moments, his tone wistful. "Those were the last happy moments in my life."
"Who managed to warm that icy heart of yours, hmm?" That was a jab at his previous rejection; he recognized it as such. Still, he answered her.
"My wife, if you must know."
Killer Frost blinked her eyes. "You were married."
"A long time ago, yes. She has passed away."
"Dead wife—bummer." She was silent for a few moments. "What did she do to get you to marry her?"
"She was herself, no more or less." Victor finally looked at the woman. "Why are you asking these questions?"
"I'm stuck here, remember?" she reminded him. "If I'm going to be here for hours on end, I might as well make use of them. Getting to know you seems like the best use of my time."
"So you can tell your boss about me?" He raised an eyebrow at her.
Frost rolled her eyes as she made an annoyed grunt. "I wouldn't be surprised if Waller already knew everything about you, including that dead wife of yours. She likes knowing everything. She probably even knows who your third-grade bully was."
"Then if I talk to you, will you cease your seduction attempts?"
"What, am I not your type?" she taunted him.
"You are not Nora," he coolly returned.
Killer Frost raised an eyebrow. "She was that good of a lay, huh?"
Anger flared within him. "Do not talk about my wife in that way," he growled lowly.
The woman held her hands up in surrender. "Sorry, forget I said anything, sheesh. She's a touchy subject for you, isn't she?"
Victor refused to respond to that. Instead, he returned his attention to the computer screen, a diagram of the nanotech bomb present. Such a device was inside of him as well as this Frost woman. It was their leash, as it were.
Well, to be more precise, it was Frost's leash.
"Do you know why I refused to do your boss' bidding?" he asked her then.
"No clue," she shrugged. "I guess to show Waller that she can't control you, right? It's a power move."
"I suppose, at its base, that is correct,' Victor mused. "This bomb of hers gives her ultimate control of life and death. For your average person, life is precious, so much so that they will do anything to prevent dying. That is the main reason for why cryogenics was being studied in the beginning."
"Okay. What are you getting at?"
"Because you value your life, you gave Waller power over you. All of you have. I, on the other hand, do not care whether I live or die. If she were to push the button that activates the bomb in my head, it would matter as much as if she doesn't push the button. There is nothing she can do to change my mind. Thus, the power she holds over you cannot be held over me. She can threaten me all she wants, I will not bend or break."
Killer Frost was silent. Then, "That's all it takes? Just not caring if you live or die?"
"For me, yes. I cannot say the same for you and your compatriots. It is too late for you. You've already shown her that you do care, and nothing you can say or do will change that dynamic."
"So you're just saying I'm screwed, is that it?" she spat at him. She clearly did not care for what he was telling her.
Victor didn't bother answering her. He didn't need to. The truth was seldom a comfort to those who wished it otherwise. He had learned this a long time ago, cruelly.
Life was just cruel.
Something was coming down the pipeline. Word of it had reached Waller long before the call from Bordeaux came in. The warden of Belle Reve had done her due diligence first, not wanting to be caught off guard.
It wasn't about the congressional hearings; those were going nowhere as expected. When you already knew what the outcome was going to be, there was nothing to fear. What were they going to do, indict her? It wouldn't be the first time nor would it be the first time for an indictment to be quietly dropped.
They needed her and what she could do more than a career politician. Waller was not going to be going anywhere anytime soon.
This meant that what Bordeaux wanted to speak of was business, the same kind they discussed prior to that disaster with the Teen Titans. This was her arena now, the place where she shone the best. If nothing else, Bordeaux would only confirm what she suspected.
When the call came in, and the pleasantries were taken care of, business began in earnest.
"There have been reports from Brazil. Attacks in the middle of the rainforest, injuries, no deaths, but it has halted development in the area." Bordeaux told her.
A certain senator with ties to some logging companies was trying to pull some strings, no surprise.
"We're not in the business of saving menial laborers from a hostile environment. That's what the Justice League is for," Waller expressed her opinion on the matter. There was also a backhanded compliment to the League if one cared to look for it. "We deal with the cleanup once the violence has stopped, and primarily we keep to North America. Why is anyone petitioning A.R.G.U.S. for this?"
Her answer was bullshit, but anyone in the business knew it. It just needed to be said in case anyone happened to be listening. Of course A.R.G.U.S. had interests in other parts of the world. Metahumans were unfortunately not restricted to America, and someone needed to keep an eye on them once they inevitably detonated. Just because a ticking time bomb was in the shape of a person did not make it any less destructive.
"From the reports I have been receiving, it's more than simple environmental sabotage," Bordeaux replied. "There are claims that the local wildlife is acting up. Again, injuries, but no deaths."
Not a Hollywood movie then. Animals didn't restrain themselves when they attacked humans. While possible to survive, it really depended on what was attacking.
"What kind of animals, specifically?"
"If the reports are to be believed, a jaguar was involved."
An incredibly rare event. If multiple people were injured by one jaguar, that was suspect.
"Is there a meta in the area?"
If A.R.G.U.S. was being appealed to, then there needed, at minimum, to be one metahuman in the area. Based on the intel so far, it might be an individual who was able to commune with and influence animals. Not a shapeshifter, but perhaps someone with powers similar to that of the Justice League member, Vixen.
"Speculations, primarily. There are descriptions of an individual in tribal garb. Something you might have seen on the Discovery Channel. There was one picture taken, but it's taken a few enhancements to be able to get its current quality. Take it with a grain of salt."
One email from Director Bordeaux arrived in her inbox. Waller opened it and accessed the attachment shortly after. Bordeaux was not kidding about the enhancements. There was still some blur, as if the picture had been taken while on the move. From what Waller was able to make out, tribal garb was an euphemism for scantily clad.
Hair was lush and free-flowing. There was a distinctive white streak in it. The skin was dark, but not as dark as hers. The woman's body was certainly fit, a kind of fitness that came from living in the wilderness. There might be something to that claim of tribal garb. Could she perhaps belong to one of the hidden tribes out there in the Amazon?
Hmm? Something was catching her eyes. It stood out from the lack of clothing and against that tanned skin. It was perhaps the only thing that could be claimed to be solid, more solid that the flesh and bone of the alleged meta.
"What is she wearing? Around her neck?" the warden found herself asking.
"Your guess is as good as mine." You could almost hear Bordeaux shrugging her shoulders. "This is perhaps the more interesting part of the reports. There were a few men who claimed it glowed. Some kind pendant, perhaps? They were spooked. So if not a metahuman, it could be an artifact of some kind."
"With a new home in the Black Room waiting for it," Waller surmised. The Black Room was where A.R.G.U.S. stored all of its magical items and objects, hiding them away from the world without its knowledge. "You want me to prepare a team then to investigate, if not neutralize the threat then?"
"Our…patron wants nothing more than that. I would prefect capture so we can determine the nature of this woman, and should she not possess innate powers, then we can verify if this pendant is the source of the problem and learn if there are more of them."
Not as effective at termination, but Waller understood the desire for more information. Threats were anywhere and everywhere, and you never knew when the next one would appear. If this pendent was a threat, and there were more of them, then they needed to be dealt with, preferably before they became a larger nuisance.
However, sending a squad in for capture was not a good idea. These scumbags were more likely to kill the girl before accomplishing anything more helpful than that. Their skillsets were limited with that capacity.
She wasn't about to send in her Alpha squad first. Not yet, at any rate. They were still getting back from Russia, and they better have good news. Beta squad then? Gamma? Delta? They were all expendable, but perhaps doing things quiet here would be better. A nothing problem fading away into the shadows was more preferable than something loud.
Which…the possibility…if it could be pulled off, then there might be another option. If she could bend Victor Fries to her will, then having a different approach to apprehending this Brazilian upstart would be within her grasp.
"In a few days, I may be able to send out a team," Waller said carefully. "I imagine we want this to be quiet. I have an investment that might be paying out sooner rather than later. Time is still going to be required, but I will take care of this situation all the same."
"Then I shall leave it in your capable hands. I'll make sure no one breathes down your back."
The call ended soon after, but as the receiver was being put back into its cradle, Waller's eyes gleamed. Stepping up her efforts on Fries was necessary to pull this off, and when next she spoke with Frost, she would dissect every single word for something that would grant her leverage.
The world would continue to spin, bringing new problems along with it, and whether Fries liked it or not, he too was a prisoner of that spin. He would need to be reminded of it.
This place was a frozen hellhole so why did anyone want to come here? Rocky and slippery all in one with snow crunching under every footstep. In the middle of enemy territory too. Most of their raggedy lot were American, and the Russians were going to fall in love with them if they caught them.
Love in the form of a bullet, if they were lucky, Deadshot mused to himself.
They had managed to stick together so far, and with Boomerang complaining half of the time. It was too cold to do it for long. Plastique had threatened to blow the Aussie up if he continued only for said Aussie to welcome it, claiming at least he would die warm. Plastique refused to give him that comfort.
The rendezvous point was somewhere close. The fastest and surest way out would be by air, but this was goddamn Russia. They were looking for that shit. How did Waller plan to get them out of here should they survive? Readings from the damn bombs in their heads would give away who was alive and who wasn't. Their movement should prove that no one was captured yet.
This place was going to be crawling with Russian troops any minute. The sniper felt it in his gut. They would have to fight their way out, and if their ride out of here wasn't waiting for them, then they would be dead. Just another glorious suicide mission, another day's work.
By now, even the loudest of them wasn't speaking. Walking through this snow, clamoring on rocks, seeing your breath with each time you breathed out, not even the most vocal of people would be able to complain long. So while they had peace, only the wind would break up the monotony.
After surmounting a steep ridge, the squad found themselves in relatively flat terrain with snow blanketing everything that could be seen. This was the spot that the coordinates told them to be, but there was nothing there waiting for them.
"Well...this is...bullocks," Boomerang remarked through his chattering teeth.
"Would you...shut up?" Plastique, also with chattering teeth. The annoyed look she threw the Aussie's way was wasted on him as he didn't look her way.
Deadshot paid them no mind, doing a quick look of the area. While he could agree with Boomerang, it didn't change that they were still here, waiting to either catch their deaths from the cold or from a bullet. The base they had blown up would be smoldering by now, so fresh troops could be sent out in every direction. They also knew the terrain better, so they...
Hold that thought, was that a quick slapping sound? Rapid too. Almost like a chopping instead of a slapping. Whose was it, though? The sniper glanced at the rest of the squad, the rest of them hearing what he was hearing.
Black Spider was bracing for a fight; Diablo not so much; Electrocutioner was prepping himself; Plastique was on edge; and Boomerang was turning his head from left to right, as if that would help.
Coming into sight through the falling snow was a helicopter, and it was pushing it. It stood out with its black color, but Deadshot didn't quite care about that. What he did care about was when it landed close to them, blowing snow all over the place due to the rapidly spinning propellers.
A side door slid open, and there was Flag waiting on them. Nothing else needed to be said as the lot of them hurried over as fast as they could.
"Taking your sweet time?" Deadshot remarked as he climbed into the aircraft.
"I'd say the same thing about you," Flag quipped back, a hint of good humor in his tone.
Exhaustion was starting to take hold of him, so Deadshot dropped it. As soon as the door was slammed closed, he could feel the pull of gravity as the helicopter lifted off and returned to the air. They were keeping low, attempting to fool any local radar. There was going to be a layaway along this trip, he could feel it. Once they were back on American soil, he could relax.
Relax as much as Waller would allow them to. He'd bet anything that she already had another mission lined up for them.
Sometimes, he wondered why not make the suicide quick instead of the slow one that Waller was forcing on them? It was a passing thought, one that Deadshot disregarded just as quickly as he thought of it. He wasn't done yet, not ready to hang it up either.
Deathstroke had proved there was a way out, it was just a matter of finding it. With Waller distracted by Fries, there might be a chance of finding out what it was. Again, that was a long shot, especially since that asshole Slade never passed along what it was.
He wasn't done, and so long as it remained that way, the world's deadliest sniper was going to get out of this.
The door opened. That was becoming too often of an event. Victor was beginning to miss the days in which no one came to visit him, the guards only providing him the required meals as per Blackgate protocol.
Killer Frost had left some time ago. For that he was thankful. With her gone, he could do more sensitive work, work he did not want getting back to Waller. If there was one thing the warden had been right about, it was keeping his mind stimulated. Although the computer only gave him some of that, it was becoming an addiction at this point. He needed to keep his mind occupied, working and reworking the thoughts and ideas that had come to him since his re-incarceration.
This time, his unwanted guest was Amanda Waller herself. Steam was billowing from her nose as she walked towards him, his cell door closing behind her. "Still enjoying the home entertainment system I've given you?" she questioned nonchalantly.
Victor just stared at her. She wanted him to engage; he would not give her the satisfaction.
"You do realize you would have greater access if you were to commit to me and my program," she continued, not the least bit perturbed by his silence. "You're aware that I keep tabs on your computer activity. I can see you cycling through all of the files and programs I've given access to you. It's only a matter of time until you grow bored of them."
"I will not be coerced into being a tool," he finally responded.
"You and I both know that you have greater worth than that." Waller came to a stop next to him, glancing at the computer screen. All she would see is a diagram of the coolant system that kept his cell at tolerable conditions. "Planning another escape, are you?"
It would seem she was familiar with his previous escape. Let her think that. Victor already knew there was no way to access the coolant system, not after her people had gone to the trouble of correcting the flaws in his cell at Blackgate. He had inspected those areas just to be safe when he first arrived her.
Still, he needed to let her think that all he desired was escape. He was here against his will thanks to her. Any incarcerated man would seek a way to change the sorry situation they were in. "I am only familiarizing myself with the system in the event there is an issue. My survival depends on maintaining sub-zero temperatures," he reminded her.
"Even if there were an issue, you wouldn't be allowed to fix it. You should really put your mind to more important matters," she countered.
He raised an eyebrow. "Such as?"
"I am in need of a way to capture a person of interest. My issue is that I only have access to people that kill and destroy whatever they set their minds to," Waller explained.
"I will not assist you in incarcerating someone else," he retorted.
"I wouldn't call it assisting so much as providing the means. If you decide to help me with this problem, I will reward you handsomely."
"Decreasing my concurrent life sentences does not interest me." Victor looked away, leaning back in his chair as he blatantly stared up at the computer screen. As far as he was concerned, this conversation was over.
That was when a photograph appeared in front of his face. He stared at it before he felt his stomach drop. For a man that thrived in the cold, he felt himself grow colder.
That photo, it contained the image of a woman of unspeakable beauty. Two hands ran through long hair, a teasing smile on her that was only meant for him. Her eyes were almost laughing at him, though they meant no offense. They were eyes that had shown him the warmth of love like none other.
Slowly, he raised a trembling hand. He half-expected the picture to be taken from him, but he managed to grab it, gently as he did not want to ruin it. He remembered this picture with a fondness he thought he had been incapable of for far too long.
"Nora…" he whispered softly.
"I have some of her affects," Waller said after several moments. "All of those can be returned to you as long as you help me."
Victor was too consumed with the image of his wife to feel the anger that would naturally come from such a statement. Waller had no right to hold his wife's memory over him—and yet he could not summon the outrage. It died a bitter death inside of him as he was too transfixed with the photograph.
Vaguely, he could recall this moment of frozen time. They had been…talking, hadn't they? Nora had been laughing. Yes, that was right. She had been laughing…about something, he couldn't remember. He had managed to take this photograph as she had finished, thus the teasing look on her face. She had said…what had she said? He could almost hear it. After so long, he had feared that he forgot what her voice sounded like, but for that instant, he thought he could almost hear her.
"I can show you…"
What? What could she show him? He…he couldn't remember. It was too long ago and his memories of the time had faded and dulled. What had they been talking about? What had they...
A hand moved into his sight and latched onto the picture. Fear gripped his heart as he realized what that meant. His head jerked up and he saw the arm attached to Waller, who was looking down at him dispassionately. "What's your answer, Victor?" she asked him, her tone hard and stern. "Do you want me to return your wife to you? Or would you rather know I have her trapped here, just like you."
"You will not," he growled lowly. His anger was beginning to return.
"It's up to you. You've been so adamant at maintaining the paltry power you have; so use it to give yourself something good in your life. Wouldn't Nora want you to have some happiness?"
Victor lowered his gaze back to the picture. Though Waller's hand was blocking it now, he could still see his beautiful Nora smiling back at him. He…he couldn't bear with not looking at her, not after having not seen her in so long.
His face twisted with resentment and resignation. As bitter as it tasted in his mouth, he knew that he would hate himself more if he lost this last reminder of his greatest love.
"Fine, you win."