An Unexpected Complication
Following Batman's suggestion, Green Lantern got in touch with Admiral Strom. It was safe to say that the admiral was not happy. The man's hope for keeping the submarine's theft out of the public eye had been dashed, and now the navy had a black eye because of it.
It didn't matter that a man whom the Lantern was starting to learn as an international pirate with a very infamous reputation was behind the theft. In some ways that made it all the more humiliating. Such a well-known figure was on the United States' radar, but that such a man had gotten through any and all security apparatuses and made it to the mainland and remained hidden long enough to steal experimental military technology, and he had a perfect storm of embarrassment and humiliation.
Black Manta wanted that submarine to find the legendary lost city of Atlantis. The lunatic genuinely believed that such a place existed. There had been some crackpots in his time, but this pirate was in the top five, no question. Most people wanted to find it for the fame, to be the one who found it. Black Manta wanted to destroy it. That part really didn't make any sense.
Why destroy something that didn't exist? Well, perhaps some answers could be found on board that submarine. Getting access to it meant having to get permission from Strom. He could have barged in on the cordoned off site, but the Lantern was a military man, the training still held strong, and he respected the admiral too much to further antagonize him.
It took some talking, but Strom came around with the caveat that he didn't linger. With authorization, the Green Lantern went to the Gotham shipyard where the crime scene was still being processed. The Feds were trying to keep the area secure, but with how large it was, that was a monumental task in and of itself.
Handing over his authorization, he finally made it into the bowels of the sub, and here is where he began this part of the investigation. Using his ring, he began a sweep, letting the pseudo-jewelry scan the whole vessel. He didn't know all of the secrets that this ship contained, so he would have to rely on what he already knew about such submarines and make comparisons that way.
The power ring was designed by the Guardians. The Guardians had no need for submarines of any kind, and so that knowledge was limited in that respect. However, there were countless other species, alongside humanity, who had developed their own seafaring warships. Thanks to the Battery on Oa, recharging there was a lot like uploading any and all new information gathered into a singular library of knowledge. Exposure was key, and with a lack of exposure came a lack of knowledge.
He might be the one to fix that.
He already knew where to go to for the first of any kind of alternations that Black Manta had been planning. The control room was the brains of this kind of vessel. Any and all consoles here connected to the rest of the sub, and there was one specific console that the Lantern was keen on looking into.
The radar system that had been stolen from Wayne Enterprises was still in the process of being removed. A look at it raised some curiosity; it had been in the process of bring installed and there was a noticeable lack of the sub's original radar system. He could see the last of the device plugged in, but not completely integrated into the control room. This detail stood out, but why, he could not answer.
The most advanced radar system in the world, one made to map out the ocean floor with the best digital contrast, was being added into the cutting edge design of the United States' nuclear navy. When you understood that Black Manta was very interested in the ocean floor—because where else would a lost city like Atlantis be?—then it made sense to have the most cutting edge of mapping and detection systems around.
The light from his ring scanned it all, and he double checked all the other systems that could be found in here. Other than the radar, no other obvious signs of tampering or changes could be found here. Knowing he was on the clock, he moved on to the rest of the sub.
He found the galley, officer and crew cabins, the medical bay, shower room, engine room, and of course, the power room. The power room, in this case, was a nuclear reactor. Not surprising since this was a nuclear submarine. The United States was moving away from diesel, and had been for decades. You'd be hard pressed to find any of the older ships and subs that were fueled that way.
However, it was with the reactor that his ring alerted him to alterations.
That was alarming. Very alarming. He had been around nuclear and nuclear-based reactors before. Such knowledge was stored in the ring thanks to all of those personal encounters. Now it was paying dividends because if there was something up with the reactor, people were going to want to know about it.
Batman was going to want to know about it.
Knowing that this might put him further into Strom's ire, the Green Lantern knew he couldn't just ignore this, and so he had the reactor open up. It looked like a large cylinder in the middle of a circular room, but with the right buttons pressed, it now rose up and exposed its innards to him. Several rods remained attached to the rising side of the reactor, and the aura his ring provided him kept him protected from anything radioactive.
Another scan, a thought willing the ring to compare what it was detecting to any and all information that was stored in it. He eyed the rods that seemed like a number of spiked teeth, then glanced down to the floor below them and the rest of the reactor. There were reciprocating holes beneath each and every rod.
Abruptly, his ring notified him that one of the rods was missing. An alarm was sounding off in his head; why would one of the rods used in the nuclear reactor be missing? Why had Black Manta wanted it removed?
The pirate's words echoed in his head, but he couldn't see how one missing rod would help in that. A big plan with a big goal, but there were enough missing pieces that he couldn't take a guess as to how that plan would be carried out. It was bad enough the alterations with the radar, but this one?
You didn't need to be a genius to know it was bad news.
Lowering the reactor and letting the rods insert themselves back into their respective holes, the Green Lantern resumes his investigation of the submarines, continuing to scan it for other signs of tampering. As of right now, there were two major signs of Black Manta making changes to it.
Neither hinted at anything being good.
A lush jungle environment was what Wonder Woman admired as she flew across the Cambodian landscape. The forest of Themyscira was the closest she had been to such a biome, but a forest was much cooler and hardier, the growth more regulated. The jungle strangled itself both with its vegetation and its heat. Somehow, it managed to thrive in such a way, and the struggle for life within it was the tale of legends.
That a people could not only live here, but prosper, it grew her admiration for Man. This was not a place to build a civilization lightly, and yet that challenge was answered. Modern day Cambodia kept to more centralized urban areas, its rural regions spread out, and in between all of that, the jungle.
Within this jungle a civilization known as Angkor, the heart of Khmer, and the stories that Helena Sandsmark had told her of it could hold her fascination. Now, she was treading the world that her old friend had once excavated.
Based on Cassie's descriptions, she was not heading for Angkor Wat, the greatest of these ancient cities, but a more newly discovered one. Smaller in comparison to its more famous brethren, this site was where the armor that Cassie wore was found. Through the treetops, she was able to make out the tips of weathered spires, and as she descended, the Amazon was able to see more of the hidden structure.
Vegetation wrapped around manmade structures, cracks marring chiseled stone and ruining the facade. What had it looked like in its golden age? Had it glistened, reflected the light from Helios' chariot? How had Apollo's light shined on it?
From the steepled spires to the disturbed earth below, Diana felt she had located one of the excavation sites that were still in the process of being worked. Tiles that had once graced the ground now had plants breaking through them. So much care was taken to remove the soil that had once covered it up. Faded designs that may have been painted on the tiles hinted that something had been lost here.
As much as she would like to admire this place, it was not for pleasantries that the Amazon had come here. It was for answers. She kept to the air, gliding as she sought to retrace Cassie's movements that night years ago. To do that, she had to first locate the actual part of the site where the archaeologists had used as camp. This was easier said than done, but Cassie had given some details of what to look for.
A wall that had once lined this ancient plaza was a start, and following it until she found the clues that hinted at where the excavators felt was a safe place to set up living accommodations. However, some of the details did not match with the story she was told, and so she flew to another promising location, one that was also close to this wall.
The second site was a better match. Now she focused on what little the blonde fighter had told her. It had been dark that night, lanterns and an authorized campfire providing the only light. If she placed herself just right, she was able to get a look at the large structure beyond the wall, further into the plaza. It must have been a temple once, but that was not the entrance she needed to look for.
There had been wandering, that much Cassie had been clear on. The exact path of the wandering, not so much. She would be here for as long as it took.
Her eyes searched about, looking for the precise entrance that Cassie had used. The girl had admitted she had snuck around, and so a smaller—or lesser—entrance would be what the girl would have used. The main entrance always tended to be large, to express grandiosity. It was similar to Themyscira in that regard.
In time, she found a tucked away doorway. No doors, those would have been destroyed a long time ago due to how easy they would have been to dismantle. Into hallways that had been unwalked in centuries, the adventuring heroine took note of where she was now, comparing once more to the story she had been told.
Indeed, it was bigger on the inside compared to the outside. The ceiling was high, dark without any lighting. Pillars held up arches, and the design was so foreign to her that it may as well be described as exotic. The floor was littered with rubble and debris, portions of this building collapsing in over the ages. Cassie had picked her way through it once, and now so did she.
A hidden passage, this was what she sought. She had been told that it was in a wall, and it led deeper into this ancient complex. Where was it? Was it hidden in the shadows? There were so many, and her lack of knowledge about the architecture of this place meant she could be searching for a long time.
Diana could be patient in the heat of combat. She could be patient when aiding someone who was hurt. She could be patient when uncovering the truths about every myth she had ever come across.
Looking for a hidden passage was where her patience ended.
But perhaps she did not have to. It was clear the styling of this…temple? This site's styling was different from that of Themyscira and Ancient Greece. That, according to Cassie, the room she had found herself in bore all the hallmarks of Greek architecture, one that mismatched this ruin, there was another power at place.
Out came the lasso, but she held it coiled in loops. It was not unfurled yet; there was no need to. Its glow is what she used to aid in her search now, and when the Gods tried to hide anything, the lasso knew how to uncover it. This time was no different.
It was an alcove, and the way the lasso's light caused it to shimmer was all the clue Diana needed. She used brute force to open it, noting that it must have sealed itself after Cassie had left it. Another power was at work here indeed.
Through a dark corridor that truth illuminated, the Amazon walked down its length, alert to any traps that may be hiding and waiting for her. None were tripped, which also made sense. At the time, Cassie had had no training, did not possess any superhuman abilities, and had not obtained the armor yet. Such an individual would either need divine protection or there were no traps set.
The room was just as Cassie described it. The columns, the dais, every inch of it was Greek in design. She could see where the armor must have been kept. Diana craned her neck back, eyeing every detail she could. Even without the lasso, she could feel it. The presence of a god had been here long ago. More than likely, placing the armor here.
But which one? She knew the names of many. The Gods she had been raised to worship, however, could never resist placing their name near their work. The lasso would help uncover it.
Several minutes later, and she found herself frustrated. No inscriptions had been left behind. No warnings, no declarations, and no clue who had set this place to exist within a structure that it did not belong in. The power needed, she would suspect Zeus himself, but the King of Olympus would not move beyond his realm and risk interacting with the other Pantheons.
The Gods were very jealous when it came to their power. They did not share without reason.
So why was the armor shared with Cassie? For what purpose was that armor crafted?
She did not possess the skills that Batman, Hawkgirl, or J'onn utilized. She knew this. Seeking truth from small details was difficult for one in which truth came so easily. Others had to do the deducing for her, but place her on the battlefield, and she could read it like any book a scholar would devour.
Was she asking the right questions? Was she asking them the right way? Sometimes, when petitioning the divine, wording was crucial because the Gods did love their jokes, especially when it was on the mortal's head.
But perhaps the deductive skills of her colleagues was not necessary. There was a God's power at work here, was there not? One of them knew. One of them had to know. Reaching the one most likely to tell her what she needed to know would prove her next challenge.
If nothing else, Diana never could resist a challenge.
Batman hadn't moved from his position across from the GCPD. Bullock had ended his interrogation with David Hyde long ago, but the vigilante was far from convinced that the pirate was done talking. He hadn't tried to hide anything from the police lieutenant, no matter how insane it made him sound.
He was also convinced that there was no way one of Interpol's most wanted wouldn't have a contingency plan if he was ever caught. No one with his ambition ever wanted to be caught, but they didn't just throw up their hands in surrender when captured.
So when he got the call from Green Lantern, he was practically in the same place as when they had last talked. The few hours that had passed had gone by that quickly. "This is Batman," he replied.
"I've gone over the sub," Stewart told him. "It looks like Black Manta did more than just add that radar system."
"What did he do?" the dark-clad man quickly asked.
"You're not gonna like it, but it looks like he messed with the nuclear reactor."
Lantern was right; he didn't like it.
"As far as I can tell, he removed one of the rods from the reactor. I'm still looking for the rod to see if he's either done more alterations, or has other plans for it."
Batman nodded, even if the Lantern couldn't see him. A missing nuclear rod, most likely uranium—what was Black Manta up to with it? Was he planning on selling off the rod? If so, he could do that with the other rods as well, though that wasn't in line with his plan towards finding Atlantis.
So he had his doubts when it came to selling the rods. So what would happen to a nuclear reactor if it was missing one of the rods? Decrease power output, that was for certain. That wasn't beneficial either.
Which meant there had to be some sort of alteration being done. Would the alteration increase power? That would definitely be more beneficial. So how would one go about altering a uranium rod, without causing a meltdown?
I'm going to destroy it.
Those words popped into the vigilante's head. What if Black Manta wanted to destabilize the reactor core? Assuming he found Atlantis, he would have a veritable nuclear bomb just ready to go off. That would certainly get the job done, at the cost of the underwater ecosystem…not to mention oceanic currents…
There was just so much that could go wrong if the pirate had gotten away with detonating the equivalent of a nuclear bomb underwater. Batman found himself clenching his fists tightly.
"Find that rod," he said over the comm link. "Chances are that Black Manta has done something to destabilize it, or has plans to destabilize it. Either way, it needs to be found and properly disposed of."
"You really think he would want to mess with a nuclear reactor? What's the point of that?" Green Lantern asked dubiously.
"He said he wanted to destroy Atlantis. A nuclear reactor is only a few steps away from being a nuclear bomb, given the right tampering. We know his end goal, so it's not that much of a stretch that he plans on using the reactor that way."
There were a few moments of silence. "I'll find that rod," Stewart assured him. "Hell, it'd be best if we confiscated all of the uranium rods. There's no telling if he's done any tampering with any of them, and it's best we assume he did so that we don't regret it later."
That wasn't a bad idea. Better safe than sorry as the saying went. It would be nice if this was them catching this early and putting a stop to it. When it came to cases with the Justice League, there was a tendency for escalation until the whole world was at danger. That Earth hadn't been irreparably damaged or destroyed was a miracle in and of itself.
Still, he couldn't shake off the feeling that this was far from over.
That was due in large part to the fact that he knew Atlantis existed. While he had never been there, and the only person he did know who had either hadn't been born yet or was a small child, he himself had encountered one of its people, its own king to be exact. That had happened in the future timeline that shouldn't exist anymore.
Yet, there were people that still existed in the present timeline. If there was a king of Atlantis then, there was one that preceded him at some point, meaning the lost city had existed for as long as the ancient stories said it did. So he firmly believed that Black Manta was telling the truth when he said he was looking for the city to destroy it. His every action confirmed what he claimed.
"I agree. I don't care who you have to talk to, or piss off for that matter, get those rods off of the sub," Batman ordered. "It's too late for the Navy to cover this up. If we need to apply pressure through the media, we will."
"You really think the media can get us that kind of pressure?"
"So long as we use the right outlets. I'll handle that if you encounter any issues with your contact. They may very well agree with you, at least to the point of getting each rod inspected." Besides, he knew a reporter on page 8 of the Daily Planet that could use a good story.
Of course, that was when things got complicated. An alarm went off in his cowl, informing him that someone had entered the interrogation room with Black Manta. "So, say I believe you about Atlantis," he overheard Bullock say. "It sounds like you've got some friends wanting to speak with you—and they don't sound so friendly."
Batman raised an eyebrow. What the hell was going on now?
A partly cloudy sky hung over Gotham, large white puffs moving at their own pace over the island that the city inhabited. An unexpected breeze from the east, helped to chill the muggy outdoors. The city sidewalks were crowded with its citizens strolling from one location to another while traffic jammed the roads.
While the city lined the coast, Gotham was not known for its beaches. Too many outcroppings of rocks, coarse sand that was too rough, and the remnants of an oil spill that had happened years previous did much to dissuade many people from going there, much to City Hall's chagrin.
There was about to be another reason for the city natives to avoid it.
The river delta that lined the primary island that made up the heart of Gotham was discolored, a faded brown that hinted at some of the pollutants still in it. If you ventured out into the Atlantic, the water became a more dark blue. Waves that washed against land tended to cap with white. From these waves, the first ships began to emerge.
Water seemed to pull away where these vessels began to emerge, long and sleek, a light brown that hinted at green mixed in colored these ships. From the front, it appeared to be reminiscent of a whale, rudder-like fins stretching out on either side. A long line along the coast did they form, creating a blockade that had normal sea traffic veering off course to avoid them.
Behind the line, a much larger ship broke free from the ocean. It easily towered over the smaller ships, five triangular extensions stretching out from a circular center. The navy blues gave this ship a dark hue, and the green lights that glowed from within could raise the hairs on one's neck.
From the front of this massive ship, five smaller ships emerged. Four were smaller than the whale ships, these ones resembling that of hammerhead sharks minus the tail. The four shark ships surrounded the fifth ship, this one in the shape of a sunfish. The five sailed into Gotham Harbor, drawing attention from those working on the cargo ships docked there.
To one pier did these five ships cross the ocean waters, the sunfish ship beginning to take the lead while the two shark ships in front pulled back and created a new formation with the two in the back. The lips of the sunfish ship touched against the harbor pier and came to a stop. There it remained motionless while dockhands and sailors peered at it in confusion, curiosity, and anxiety.
A sharp hiss signaled the rising of the sunfish ship's upper lip, an opening forming. As this sliding door shuddered to a stop, two columns of armored men began to march out of it. Grays and blacks decorated the armor, a prominent symbol of what appeared to be an inverted V stamped onto each chest plate. The triangle could have been mistaken for the letter A.
The helms hid away faces under a bioluminescent plate. Curved extensions gave the impression of fins lining each helm. Gauntlets possessed the same fin-shaped extensions. Heavy boots stomped on the concrete, each footstep dull in its impact.
Each armored man carried what was clearly a rifle of some kind. Bioluminescence glowed along the sides of each weapon, the barrels aimed at the ground for now. It was the clearest sign that whoever these people were, they meant business.
Two columns of armored men lined this particular pier, leaving enough space between the two lines for more bodies to walk through. Stepping out as the newest arrival, this man was clearly in a position of authority and he looked nothing like these soldiers.
The golden armor he wore shimmered in the sunlight; it could blind a person who looked directly into it. Rounded shoulder guards did not seem to inhibit any movement, rotating with each swing of the arm. The legs and the gauntlets this man wore were of an emerald green, its luster clear for any layperson to see and know that they were valuable.
Unlike the other armored men, this man did not wear a helm, which exposed his head for all to see. Long, blond hair seemed to flow from his scalp, trickling down to the shoulders there the locks parted. Two locks continued down the front, ending just over the golden chestplate. The rest went down the back, ending close to the waist.
Much of this man's face also was covered with hair, primarily around the mouth. A short beard blocked off the sight of any neck that wasn't covered, and long, mustache whiskers stemmed from under the nose. Hard green eyes surveyed everything in front of him.
In one hand, he held a trident. Gold in color, richly crafted, and tips sharpened to a point that they could stab even the air. It was the most obvious sign of his authority.
He came to a stop just ahead of the two columns of armored men. He ignored the procession behind him, those who acted as guard and those who acted as entourage. His hard gaze swept around, spotting the nearest workers and zeroing in on them.
A strong voice that projected itself commanded, "You."
There were four workers who bore that commanding voice, and all four trembled without knowing why. From curiosity came fear, none knowing what to do next.
The man in golden armor, however, gave them an out. "I am looking to speak with anyone of authority in your city. The mayor, city council, chief of police, I don't care. I come here to negotiate an exchange for a wanted criminal."
The harbor workers had a number of responses. Two looked at each other. One couldn't take his eyes off the man in golden armor. The last was looking anywhere but at the man in the golden armor.
The long, blond-haired man remained patient, waiting for a response.
"Uhh…sure. Who are you…who's the criminal you're looking for?" the fourth harbor worker spoke up.
Tightening his grip on the trident, the man in the golden armor announced, "He calls himself Black Manta. He is wanted on charges of murder in the Kingdom of Atlantis. To your superior, tell them the King of Atlantis, King Orin, will remain here until custody of this man is turned over to the Atlantean military."
His proclamation stated, King Orin remained where he stood, unmoving and unconcerned. With what was clearly the Atlantean military backing him, who here was going to argue the point?
This is what the government was for.