It came out of nowhere. That was usually the joke when someone got hit, whether it was by a car, another person, or a random piece of debris launched through the air by some metahuman. That last one happened more often than you would think.
But in this case, it was something that shook the entire prison, or at least felt that way. As the members of Alpha team were leaving their personal breakroom, the entire place violently shuddered out of nowhere. There was no sound, no light of an explosion. Just the sudden tremor that nearly threw them off of their feet.
"The bloody hell was that?!" Harkness exclaimed, pretty much voicing what the rest of them were thinking.
"It felt like an explosion," Electrocutioner remarked, one hand braced against a wall to help steady himself. All of them were doing much the same, grabbing onto anything to help steady themselves, be it wall, door, door frame, or even crouching to the floor. "I do not like the thought of that."
Lawton was in agreement there. The last time there had been a noteworthy explosion here, it was because Major Force was blowing up above their heads. That had not been a fun experience to live through, even if living was preferable to dying.
"What could have caused it?" Plastique questioned out loud. There was a giddiness in her tone, one that made her seem excited. Considering she liked causing explosions, that sort of made sense. It was poor timing, but it made sense. "It was strong enough to shake this place, but not strong enough to tear it down."
"Is someone trying to break out?" Black Spider suggested. "Or perhaps break in?"
Harkness looked as if he were about to respond to that, most likely wondering why anyone would try to break in here of all places, but then remembered that had already happened—again, in regards to what led to Major Force blowing up. So it looked as if he were about to talk, but then cut himself off.
"Whatever it is, no doubt we're about to be called in," Lawton surmised. "Everyone, head to the armory. Waller's going to want us suited up and ready if there is another incursion. No way is she going to want Belle Reve to get exposed again."
There were nods of agreement before the team began heading for the armory. As Lawton made to turn away, he caught the sight of Killer Frost looking off down the opposite hallway, as if she were trying to figure out where the shockwave had come from. Maybe she had a good idea of what the cause was; maybe she didn't.
But it did get him to wonder…
The command center was the brain of the entire facility that was Belle Reve. For convenience, it too was where the upper levels could be operated as well as the lower ones. A push of a button was all it took to reroute to a station up there, but the true power was in here. It was also a place in which Task Force X could be monitored in the field, making sure no one got any bright ideas.
It was all secure, the walls were thickly reinforced, the cyberinfrastructure was so state-of-the-art that it could be its own country, and there was only one entrance in here that could be locked and given added protection in the form of a blast door.
Yet even in here, Waller could feel the explosion that had rocked the building. It could be best described as a shudder, a sensation that should not be felt in here. Automatically, she was alert and using the large monitor on the wall to feed her what data she needed to know just what the hell was going on.
A part of the facility was compromised, according to the readout. The monitor was showing an outline of the complex, a small part of it colored to make it easier to identify where the damage was at its greatest.
From what she could tell, the destruction wasn't widespread; Belle Reve wasn't compromised. The upper levels were showing no signs of being disturbed with perhaps the exception of feeling that shudder as well. From a Pad, she began bringing up what security feeds she could to try and get at least her eye on the situation.
She knew Belle Reve like the back of her hand, so she knew where that disturbance came from. It was the little lab she had gifted Fries; that bastard better still be alive. Confirmation came when she drew up a window to check on the status of the bomb in his head and found it still active.
However, that didn't mean that he wasn't injured. Damn it, and just when it was all coming together. Oh, and some of the cameras were damaged thanks to the source of that tremor. She couldn't get a feed from the lab. There must have been an explosion, one that took out the security measures there.
Now, as if that wasn't a thought…
Flag felt the shockwave run through his body and nearly send him to his knees. The colonel stumbled, but kept his footing, even as dust particles fell from the ceiling, sprinkling over everything in the hallway.
What the hell had that been? No, no, he had a pretty damn good idea.
Something just went off. Something powerful by the feel of it. The distant boom indicated something explosive—some kind of explosive detonation.
Immediately, Flag reviewed anything and everything that could have caused it. The first was one of the metahumans held here. The most obvious candidate was Plastique, but no, she knew the consequences of using her powers here without a damn good reason. While she liked blowing up anything she could get her hands on, she liked her head where it was.
He considered others, then dismissed them just as quickly. The nanobombs essentially removed any inmate with explosive tendencies as suspects. Next were more mundane possibilities. A gas leak? A flame near a gas leak? Someone trying to break out from the upper floors? A fault with the facility's generator? A lab explos—
All thoughts stopped. Reorienting himself, the colonel took off at a run. While he had nothing that would lead him to believe that anything had occurred over here, making sure that Victor Fries was secure was a priority. Even if the source of this disturbance had not originated from Fries' lab, confirming that they still had the Iceman secured had to be the first and foremost priority.
As his feet pounded on the floor with each stride he took, Flag could only focus on this one thing. Find Fries. Secure Fries. Get him back to his cell ASAP. Then find out what was going on.
The other possibilities would have to wait. This one had to be taken care of now.
He couldn't help his heavy breathing. The explosion had been powerful, and he had been close to it. The suit Waller had given him wasn't designed to withstand such force.
So there he was, in the hallway, using the wall to help brace himself. Smoke was filling up the corridor further back, indicating where the explosion had taken place. He didn't dare look back to confirm as that would be wasted effort. Victor grunted as he took one step and then another. He felt battered and bruised, something he hadn't felt in quite some time. It was a familiar and unfamiliar feeling all at once.
Perhaps the most alarming part was there was damage to his suit. There were small rips in it, even a crack in the glass of his helmet. This allowed the cold air that circulated inside of the suit to leak out, bluish steam rising up from the small openings. That…that wasn't good. While the suit was doing its best to keep him cold within its insulation, it was using up what remained in his tank to maintain the subzero condition. Whatever time he had previous was much shorter now.
He…he needed to go. He needed to go right now.
He hadn't gotten far away from the workshop, unfortunately. That had more to do with the weakened pace he traveled, but he didn't have the time to recover properly. He needed to be somewhere sooner rather than later. He could only hope that his strength would return.
The first obstacle came into view then.
Two guards came flying around a corner, immediately spotting him. "Popsicle, what the hell happened?!" one of the guards demanded.
Victor recognized the man—again. Why had he not learned his name yet? It didn't matter. He just needed him to continue seeing an injured man. "The core…" he gasped out. "It detonated."
"No shit! Were you trying to bring the roof down on our heads?" The two guards approached him, visibly relaxing. No doubt that had something to do with his weakened state, the fact that he was using the wall to help brace himself. Why would they be on their guard with such a man, one that was clearly showing injury?
"Not trying, no," Victor managed to answer. "I…I need to return…to my room…"
"Kinda figured that." The insulting guard looked to his partner. "Help him, Ramirez. I'm going to—"
What the two men failed to notice was Victor slowly removing the gloves around his hands. Though he felt the searing pain of room temperature air on them the moment his hands were uncovered, he willingly bore through it. As Ramirez moved to lend him support, the former vigilante grabbed onto the man's shoulder, his uniform providing momentary protection.
The other guard began to leave them, but Victor immediately reached out for him, his hand finding its way to the man's exposed throat.
"Hey, what are you—!" Ramirez began to shout, only for Victor to move his remaining hand from the man's shoulder and to the back of his neck, the collar offering minimal protection. This instantly cut him off.
Both men gagged, though it wasn't because they were being suffocated. No, the coldness of his hands was inducing frostbite to their skin and the tissue beneath. It also affected the blood vessels, cooling off the blood within them. This cooler blood was pumped right into their brains, which began inducing cell death there. After all, the brain was an organ and organs required a specific temperature range to survive. The brain strove to maintain homeostasis at all times, and was quite susceptible to prolonged changes in condition. Dropping internal body temperature by several degrees was an injury it could not withstand.
And those were just the internal effects. Externally, their faces became blue and pale, their eyes bulging wide. The gagging sounds they had been making quieted down to mere gasps before they went silent. Only then did Victor release them, dropping both men to the floor.
He then straightened out his posture. Yes, the shockwave from the explosion had done a number on him, but he had to admit to playing up the injuries, if only for these guards to underestimate him.
That would be their last mistake—ever.
Victor began walking with a stronger gait, not bothering to use the wall to help brace himself this time. Time was of the essence now; and he had a place to be, even if he did have a limp in his stride. There would be more guards coming and they would only pause long enough to realize just who was responsible for the state of their fallen comrades.
There were other worries, too. The main one was the warden herself. No doubt she would be going to a secured location, one that she could monitor the entire prison from. If she caught sight of him through the security cameras, then she could direct better personnel to apprehend him. No doubt the initial explosion would have knocked out most of the nearby security cameras, so there was some grace there. He would need to take advantage of that.
And yet, another concern was that Belle Reve was not just guarded by security guards. No, they had the inmates themselves, all of whom were waiting for their chance to prove themselves, to justify their usefulness. They would be coming too, and his encounter with their best team had shown him just what kind of people he was dealing with.
This time, he would not let them put him in an unfavorable position. This time, they would learn just how deadly his wrath was.
No new changes. That was good. Damage to the complex had not spread since the initial detonation. It was all contained for now, and containment was good. It meant nothing would be leaving that would draw unwanted attention back to Belle Reve and get an undesirable element to start sticking its nose in her business—again.
With the immediate questions about security out of the way, Waller now wanted a why. What caused the explosion? Who was caught up in it? What repairs needed to be made? Whose head needed to roll?
She was a woman who got results, and results meant answers. It didn't matter what they were, though she had a preference for what kind of answers she was willing to obtain.
The order was sent out for all available personnel to get down there and secure the area. Report back the second they had anything. Guards would be heading on down to serve as first responders. Noting a screen, she could tell that several members of Task Force X were in the armory, and a check on the camera in there revealed the Alpha squad to be suiting up.
Already, they were anticipating that she was going to send them in. Not bad, and she had to give points for the initiative. Simultaneously, she was reminded that the others inmates needed to be located just in case someone was pulling an inside job.
One confirmation after another, she was able to identify who was where and what they were doing. Many had retreated to their cells out of fear that being in the wrong place would have them lose their heads. They weren't necessarily wrong since her patience nowadays was at an all-time low. The stresses from Delta squad's incompetence, the Russia fiasco, and negotiating with Fries had taken an unexpected toll.
Needless to say, someone would be losing blood today, it was only a question of whose.
Flag hadn't called back in yet, and that was after she was able to make brief contact with the colonel who reported that he was heading towards the affected area. She would wait on him to message in some up-to-date intel once he had found some.
Fingers continued to tap on a keyboard, resolved and unhesitating. Nothing could be missed, not after everything that happened with Wilson and the Titans. It was supposed to be back to business as usual.
So far, everyone was where they were supposed to be. Those who weren't, she was able to confirm that they were doing what they were supposed to be doing. Everyone was…
Wait. Wait, what about that one?
With all the chaos occurring, it had almost escaped her, but there was a dot on the monitor, one that was on the move and not heading towards any approved location. These dots were signals, ones emitted by the bombs implanted in the head of each and every task force member. Prison personnel and other civilian roles did not have such signals coming from them.
Which one was this, and why was it not behaving appropriately?
First and foremost, which bomb was it and whose head was it implanted in? That information was quick to be received, and Waller frowned at the sight of it. This bomb, it was registered to Fries.
The explosion had occurred in his lab. It stood to reason that any signals emitted by Fries' bomb would be in that area, except according to the monitor, he was moving away from the lab. He shouldn't be moving at all, and if he was, he would more than likely require assistance.
Specifically, if Fries were to be on the move, he would be heading for his cell, the only place here guaranteed to keep him alive.
So why wasn't he?
With narrowed eyes, Waller considered the possibilities. A finger twitched, itching to seek out one particular button and press it. But no, not after all the resources expended to bring him here. She was going to need an explanation, a simple one, such as what did he think he was doing?
Alpha squad was getting ready. They would be the first ones volunteered to hunt down and find out the answers to the questions Waller had.
There was no choice in the matter.
He was close. The turn should be coming soon.
There had been a few more guards, each met the same fate as the first two guards Victor had encountered. By now, his hands were screaming with pain due to the exposure to the room temperature air. He was actively gritting his teeth as a coping mechanism, but he was going to have to cover them soon. Seeing as they were his own form of protection at the moment, he was loathe to relinquish them.
Making one last turn, he knew he was in the right hallway. It was empty, thankfully, but that could change at any moment. No doubt the bodies he had left behind had been discovered by now. Connections would be made that he was somehow involved, and a search would be performed.
Victor picked up his pace. Though he felt sore, he was not as hobbled as he had been after the initial explosion and subsequent shockwave. He had played up his injuries to lure the guards into underestimating him, and it was surprising how much that had worked. He was beginning to wonder if he was truly viewed as a threat despite the recognition by all he had encountered.
That didn't matter. If he was to succeed, he needed to be armed. The next few minutes would be crucial.
As he hurried down the corridor, he eventually reached the turn he had been searching for and came to a stop. Peering around the corner, he spotted what he had been seeking.
The vault door loomed around the corner. There were three guards there, each looking to each other for guidance. One was actively trying to get into communication with a radio, his constant demands for answers being heard.
These were the last obstacles. If there had been two of them, he would go with his current method. Three was just one too many. He needed to play this smart.
Gloving up one hand, he felt relief through the appendage once it was exposed to the cold air within his suit. It still pained him, but the pain was slowly lessening. Taking a couple steps back, Victor then began to hobble forward before he pitched himself forward. He fell to the floor right in front of the opening to the vault room, landing on his hands and knees. He grunted from the landing, clenching his hands into fists.
"What the?" he heard one of the guards exclaim, followed by another questioning out loud, "What's he's doing here?" Victor panted, trying to regain breath that he hadn't lost. It was all part of the deception.
"You better check him," the last one said. "He doesn't look good." This was followed by the sounds of footsteps that drew closer to him. Only one set—good.
The bald man only glanced out of the corner of his eye to see how far the approaching guard was, but made certain to not openly gape at him. He patiently waited until the man reached him, taking a knee as he placed his hand on his shoulder. "Damn, you look like shit," the guard commented.
Victor turned his head to regard the man before he tried to push himself up onto his knees. He wobbled, though he honestly wasn't certain if it was part of his deception, or if it was a real gesture. Regardless, the guard helped steady him until he was only on his knees.
That's when he acted. He shot up his uncovered hand and grabbed the guard by his throat. Instantly, the man began gagging as he shot his hands to grab onto the former vigilante's arm. He would fall in a couple seconds, so he was already finished. That meant he had to act quickly in regards to the two remaining guards.
As he slowly killed the guard next to him, Victor clumsily grabbed the machine gun he had, thankfully latching onto the handle with his gloved hand, a finger on the trigger. The machine gun hung from a strap around the guard, so it limited just how far he could move it at the moment. That didn't matter as Victor yanked the gun and pointed it around his guard, now his human shield. He pointed the barrel to the left side of the short hallway and squeezed the trigger. The machine gun immediately began firing, the scientist holding the trigger as he slowly swept the barrel to his right. By the time he reached the right side of the hallway, the gun's magazine was empty, rapid clicking sounds being made by the weapon's hammer.
The two other guards screamed, indicating they had been hit. Both took shots to their thighs, which caused both of them to fall to the floor. One guard lost his hold on his weapon, which sent it sliding across the floor, not that he seemed to care. He was grabbing at his legs as he screamed, blood leaking out of the fresh bullet holes.
The other guard, however, managed to retain his hold on his weapon. He wasn't going to let the pain he surely felt deter him either as he promptly took aim from his lying position on the floor. Victor immediately sought refuge behind his human shield, then heard the loud blast of gunfire ring out. The dead guard he held took the brunt of the bullets, the force of each hit causing the corpse to jerk back and forth.
Then, just as quickly as his gun had emptied, so did the retaliating guard's. Upon hearing the sudden quiet, Victor glanced around his shield and saw the guard hastily yanking the empty magazine out before grabbing at his waist for a new one.
He could not be allowed to complete that action.
Noticing a side arm on the dead guard in front of him, Victor pulled it out of its holster and released his hold, allowing the man to collapse to the floor. Standing up to his full height, he began walking to the last two guards, pointing the handgun at the one that was still a threat. "You should stop," he warned him.
"Fuck you!" the guard shouted back as he yanked a new magazine off of his belt. Instantly, Victor fired the handgun, his aim true as it struck the new magazine and knocked it out of the frantic man's hand.
"I may not look it, but I am an excellent marksman," Victor said. "I had to be in order to use my Freeze Gun. If you wish to test my ability, please, reach for another. The next shot will be to your head."
This caused the guard to freeze. It seemed he had finally realized the position he was in. "Now, if you would be so kind as to drag yourself to the console and open the vault," he told the man.
"Why the hell do you…" the defiant guard began to question before realization dawned on him. "Like hell I will! I can't let you in there!"
This rejection did not faze Victor in the slightest. In fact, he was expecting such an initial answer. "I only need one of you to open it. In fact, neither of you has to be alive. It would just be more convenient if you cooperated."
"Do you have any idea how much shit I'll be in? We'll be in? It'll be our asses if we let you in there!"
"If you let me in, then I give you my word that I will spare your life. Unlike your employer, I do keep my word."
The guard grimaced before his eyes glanced to a corner of the room. Victor followed the look and noticed a security camera trained on them. Turning his aim to it, he fired a shot, the camera shattering into a shower of sparks.
He then returned his aim to the guard. "There, there are no more witnesses. Now, do as I have asked, or die in the line of duty. The choice is yours."
The guard swallowed deeply before he finally caved. Rolling away from Victor, he began to drag himself across the floor until he reached the vault door. There was a control panel next to it and he used the wall to help climb up onto his feet, the pain in his legs no doubt making this difficult. He proceeded to enter in an access code.
A sharp beep was made and the vault door opened then. The guard promptly dropped to the floor, letting out a cry of pain as he did so. Victor paid him no mind as he walked right up to the opening door and peered through the gap between it and the wall.
And there it was, his latest and greatest battle suit. It stood upright in one piece, thankfully. There were cables and wires attached to it, no doubt used for diagnostic purposes. It was on a stand in the middle of the room on full display.
Victor slipped in through the opening between the door and the wall, then grabbed onto the backside of the vault door. Straining, he pulled it shut behind him, the locks moving into place. That was quite alright for the time being. He needed some time before he was confronted.
As he regarded his suit, he took one slow step after another as he approached it. He had feared that the men and women examining it would have taken it apart, rendering all of his efforts meaningless. Either they had respect for his craft, or they did not want to make the mistake of destroying his suit and earn the ire of the warden. It didn't matter their reasoning, not anymore.
Victor began to remove the suit he wore, undoing the various buckles that kept him confined within it. There would be some momentary discomfort as he changed, but he could bear with it. He could bear with anything now.
Soon, Belle Reve would fall witness to the might of the Iceman.