As he turned to face the person behind him, Gray's mind was in turmoil. However, he didn't allow it to show in his body language, calmly staring into her green, mesmerizing eyes.
The woman was of average height, 5.6 feet tall at best, with a wild mane of smooth, long red hair that naturally fluttered in the wind as she stood there with a smile tugging her lips.
Her face, easily one of her most distinctive features, was exquisite, delicate, and every other word one would use to describe beauty. However, most people would remember her by an even more distinguishing feature, her lustrous, light-green skin tone.
It made her look exotic, but by no means did it diminish her beauty. Her green skin emphasized it and made her look even more charming than her natural looks already had.
"You don't look happy to see me... I'm offended..." the woman, Pamela Isley, said, tilting her head as she faked a pout, to which her aura suddenly changed from a charming lady into an adorable young girl.
"Where I'm from, people don't usually throw parades when they meet internationally wanted terrorists..." Gray quipped, dismissively waving a hand to the side and scoffing at her remark.
"Let's cut to the chase. What do you want?" he quickly continued, cutting off Pamela as she seemed to have a quip of her own at the tip of her tongue to make the altercation as short as possible.
"Fair enough..." Pamela replied, still smiling as she chuckled. "You are friends with Harley Quinn...?" she continued, raising an eyebrow as she paused and waited for a reply, which was a simple no.
"No?" Pamela repeated, tilting her head in confusion. "Then maybe tell it to Harley. She seems to think you two are bosom buddies with how she talks about you..." she added, her smile exasperated as she shook her head.
"Believe me, I did, in more than one way and occasion..." Gray replied, allowing himself to let out a sigh of annoyance at the mention of the clingy, crazy, blonde psychiatrist.
"Either way, Harley is in serious trouble. I need your help to get her out of it..." Pamela said, shrugging her shoulders and dropping the subject of Gray and Harley's one-sided friendship.
"And why on god's green earth would I do that? It has nothing to do with me..." Gray replied, his tone blank, as he firmly shook his head to show his unwillingness to get involved further.
"Because I asked..." Pamela instantly replied with a soft smile that made her look even more charming. "And you can't resist me— no man could..." she continued, trailing off as she put a hand behind her head and raised her hair.
"Now come here, lover..." Pamela concluded, releasing her pheromones and extending her hand forward with a smile as she watched Gray's body stiffen.
Pausing for a second, Gray began moving towards Pamela, reaching forward as if to hold her extended hand halfway through. But before their fingers could touch, the unexpected happened.
A sword materialized in Gray's hand, and the tip of its blade settled on Pamela's neck, close enough to draw a drop of blood from, much to the latter's surprise.
"If there's one thing I hate, it's people who like to fuck with other people's minds..." Gray said, maintaining a battle-ready posture as if he was inclined to lob Pamela's head at a moment's notice.
"Get lost before you really piss me off," Gray continued, moving his sword away from Pamela's neck, but he didn't forget to give it another scratch to remind her of how close she came to dying.
Pamela slowly raised her hand to touch her neck, seemingly appalled by the wet sensation on her fingers as she brought her palm before her eyes and noticed the red color.
However, she quickly gathered her bearings and smiled. "Harley told me my pheromones might not work on you ..." Pamela said as she rubbed her fingers together, chuckling as she turned to Gray.
"I wonder how... is it the helmet...?" the botanist asked as she lowered her hand. Her tone was profoundly bewildered at her failure to control Gray as she gave him a curious look.
"Maybe, maybe not. Either way, this conversation is over. Next time I'll use a longer blade," Gray said as he turned around, walked to the roof's edge, and prepared to leave.
"Wait!" Pamela said, prompting Gray to stop just as he retrieved his steel wire and was ready to swing away. "You said it has nothing to do with you, but those people are targeting everyone..." she quickly added, seemingly sure that Gray understood who she meant without needing to elaborate.
"They took Harley, they came after me and many others. It's only a matter of time before they come after you..." Pamela continued, hoping her words of reason would sway Gray.
However, Gray's only response was silence as he jumped off the roof and swung away.
...
'Well, fuck...' I mused as I landed on a rooftop a respectable distance away and immediately began inspecting my clothes. 'Now that's just bullshit...' I sighed as I found a single blade of grass clinging to my back.
I was, pun intended, with extreme prejudice, green with jealousy at Poison Ivy's bullshit powers. Here I was, busting my ass and grinding my skills, and I could barely build a simple tracking device while she could achieve similar results with her green mojo by whispering to fucking plants.
I was less than enthused to meet Poison Ivy, even if she was one of my top 10 teenage crushes. The fact she was hunting down the Suicide Squad would only make matters complicated as well.
I didn't intend to antagonize Amanda Waller purposely. My only goal was to gather ammunition against her if she suddenly decided I was Suicide Squad material or wanted to get rid of me for whatever reason.
You never know what someone like Amanda would do, so it was better to be ready to deal with her, and the same goes for Poison Ivy. Both those two women were crazy and unpredictable in more than one way.
I would have probably killed Poison Ivy then and there if I was even a little weaker and less confident in my ability to defend myself should things turn awry.
I would even rather deal with Amanda Waller over Poison Ivy as the latter had a weakness I could conveniently grasp with my current abilities and use to 'end her whole career,' as one wise man once said in the greatest rap battle of all times.
Ivy, on the other hand, was tireless. She'd always find a way to bounce back and resume her so-called crusade to save the plants as the ultimate anti-vegan.
All jokes aside, though, Poison Ivy was prone to obsessive fits, and I didn't need that shit on my plate. I'll pass on having a personal nemesis, thank you very much.
'Hopefully, I won't have to deal with her anymore...' I mused as I finally received the notification that Killer Croc was on the move and immediately pursued.
I was intent on getting a digital trace, a phone call, or anything that would help me track Task Force X's database as soon as possible and avoid further contact with Poison Ivy since she might be there.
...
As he stood inside the secret basement of a fully functional hospital, Rick Flag's hand rested on the pistol at his hip, intently watching The Penguin's goons delivering the newest batch of Suicide Squad recruits.
He wasn't alone there, as King Faraday stood right beside him, just as vigilant and prepared to open fire at a moment's notice should the need arise.
The two men were some of the bravest, most lethal, and most efficient agents to work in service of The U.S. government. They worked for multiple branches of government, military, special ops, intelligence, and law enforcement agencies, achieving great success wherever they went.
However, such highly decorated soldiers didn't exist in any public record, and only the most privy government officials knew they even existed due to the nature of their current employment.
"Where is Virtuoso?" Rick Flag asked as he turned to King Faraday, frowning. "She should have been here by now..." he added, trailing off as he resumed watching The Penguin's subordinates.
"Who knows...? Nightshade is probably throwing another tantrum at Waller and refusing to work...." King Faraday replied, chuckling as he shook his head.
"We need Virtuoso to wipe these people's minds. We'll be comprised otherwise," Rick Flag said, unmindful of King Faraday's joke that failed to get a chuckle out of him.
"Why don't you try calling Waller if you're so worried? We can just put those scumbags down if it comes to it..." King Faraday replied, rolling his eyes at Rick, to which the latter sighed and made the call.
...
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