Chương 258: CHAPTER 253
For a moment, it seemed like the attack might have an effect. But A.M.A.Z.O simply opened its mouth and unleashed a gust of freezing breath, extinguishing the flames as if they were nothing more than candlelight. Flash, undeterred, rushed directly at the android, delivering hundreds of punches in less than a second to its face. The rapid barrage caused the android to stumble slightly, but its chest soon displayed Flash's lightning crest.
Batman's eyes widened in realization. "Cyborg, run a scan! That thing is copying our abilities—figure out how we can shut it down before it adapts to all of us!"
Superman and Wonder Woman exchanged a quick glance, a silent understanding passing between them. Together, they charged toward A.M.A.Z.O, their combined might aiming to overwhelm the android. Green Arrow, stationed at a distance, fired more arrows, trying to distract the machine as much as possible.
"We need a plan!" Wonder Woman shouted as she blocked a blow from A.M.A.Z.O with her bracelets. "This thing is just getting stronger!"
"I'm working on it," Batman replied, his voice calm but tense. He and Cyborg were furiously analyzing the android's code, trying to find a weakness. But time was running out. A.M.A.Z.O was switching between the powers of a Kryptonian and a speedster, and if they didn't find a solution soon, there might not be anything left to save.
…
[Tom Hendricks POV]
Since the debacle with the Sparrows and the intense confrontation with their leader, Jamie, which ultimately led to our run-in with the Justice League, things have been unusually calm. Almost too calm. Business, in my role as Ghost, has been thriving—no setbacks, no leaks, no one poking around where they shouldn't. It's been smooth sailing, and while that should bring me peace, I can't help but anticipate the next storm.
To solidify my cover, I've made a few smart investments in legitimate industries, carefully crafting the narrative around my wealth. On the surface, I'm just another wealthy investor, putting my money into top-tier firms and overseas ventures.
Leo, connected me with some high-rollers in the real estate market. I bought up a few properties at a steal and flipped them, selling at double or even triple their original value. The perfect front—clean, profitable, and above suspicion.
Still, I know Jamie is out there, lurking. He knows my secret—that I'm Ace—and sooner or later, he'll come for me. The idea of that showdown stirs something in me.
I won't lie; there's a certain excitement in the thought of facing him again. Our last encounter left unfinished business, and I intend to settle it. It'll be fun—at least, for me—before I finally get rid of him for good. Once I've dealt with him, I'll make sure he's locked up far from here, in a place called White Prison in Venezuela where no one escapes. If he ever tells anyone in there about my identity as Ace, he would just be seen as another psycho.
As I mulled over these thoughts, the TV in my office flickered to life with breaking news. My gaze sharpened as I saw footage of the Justice League's award ceremony, rudely interrupted by what appeared to be a terrorist attack.
Civilians scattered in panic as the chaos unfolded. Then, the camera panned to the action—a battle between the League and a strange, hulking figure with orange skin. The guy didn't look human, and even more surprising, he was holding his own against Earth's mightiest heroes. Interesting.
The footage barely played for a few minutes when my phone buzzed on the desk. I glanced at the screen—Slade. I answered the call, the familiar gruffness in Slade's voice greeting me.
"Ghost," Slade started, his tone direct. "We've got a problem."
Of course, there was a problem. There always was.
"Go on," I replied, my eyes still on the screen as the battle between the League and the orange-skinned foe continued to rage.
"The shipments have been delayed again. The client's getting restless, and his dealers are starting to panic. They can't run business without the product, and that means your weekly cut is drying up."
A spark of irritation flickered in me. This was supposed to be handled.
"What's causing the delay?" I asked, leaning back in my chair, already anticipating the answer.
"The Feds," Slade said bluntly. "They've been hitting the shipments hard before the suppliers are able to deliver to our collaborators. It smells like there's a rat on the inside feeding them intel."
I clenched my jaw. A rat. Just what I didn't need. Someone was playing both sides, feeding the authorities information that was compromising my supplier's operations. I wasn't about to let that slide.
"I sent Jason to handle it, and I'm doing some digging of my own. We'll find the leak and patch it up," Slade continued, his voice hard with the promise of violence. "Just thought you'd want to know before things get out of hand."
I nodded to myself. Slade and Jason were the right men for the job, no doubt about that. If anyone could clean up this mess, it was them. Still, this whole situation reeked of betrayal, and I didn't like having loose ends.
"Keep me updated," I instructed. "And Slade… If you find the rat on their side, make sure they understand the cost of betrayal. Permanently, do not let their life get spared, even by their boss himself."
A brief pause, then Slade's cold, affirming grunt came through the phone before the line went dead.
I tossed the phone onto the desk and leaned forward, eyes drifting back to the news. The Justice League was still locked in battle with that android, or whatever it was.
For now, I'd let Slade and Jason handle the issue with the supplies, there are other things in need of my attention.
Whoever was feeding information to the Feds had made a fatal mistake. Ghost doesn't forgive. And once I've dealt with this rat, Jamie's time will come soon enough. After all, in my world, there's always someone waiting to be taught a lesson.
….
[Jason Todd's POV]
As soon as we touched down at the airport, a man who looked to be in his mid forties waved us down from a sleek, black sedan parked by the curb. He had a slight build, dark hair slicked back, and his olive complexion was set off by the unnervingly bright smile plastered across his face. He waved like we were old friends, which made the whole thing feel off, especially after hours of silence from Slade.
"Is that him?" I asked, glancing sideways at Slade, who hadn't uttered a single word since we got on the plane. The man was a brick wall of stoicism when he wanted to be.
Without even looking my way, Slade grunted, his voice as dry as the desert outside, "From the way he's grinning at us, I'd say that's our guy. If not, we've got a real creep on our hands."
I narrowed my eyes at the stranger. "It's already creepy as hell."
We walked up to the sedan. The man stepped forward, still wearing that unsettling grin, and greeted us with a thick accent. "Welcome to Morocco, my American friends!" He extended his hand to shake, his enthusiasm way too eager for my liking.
I just stared at his outstretched hand without saying a word, letting the awkward silence build. Slade, being his usual pragmatic self, didn't waste time with theatrics and shook the guy's hand firmly, his one good eye scanning the area for potential threats. He never dropped his guard—not for a second.
"You must be Mr. Wilson," the man continued, clearly unfazed by my cold shoulder. "I am Miguel. The boss sent me to collect you from the airport, said it might be your first time here in our beautiful country."
Miguel moved swiftly, opening the passenger side door for Slade and then the back door for me, like some kind of personal chauffeur.
I paused, giving him a once-over. His eager, almost sycophantic attitude was rubbing me the wrong way. Slade gave a quick, silent sweep of the area again, making sure there wasn't anyone else lurking nearby waiting to jump us. I could see the gears turning in his head as he assessed Miguel, calculating whether he was just a harmless middleman or someone who might need to be "dealt with" later.
As Miguel stood there holding the door, still smiling like an idiot, my instincts kicked in. The way this guy was acting had my suspicions on high alert. I wasn't about to let us walk blindly into whatever trap might be waiting down the road.
"What makes you so sure we're the people your boss wants you to pick up?" I asked, my voice low and dripping with distrust.
Miguel didn't miss a beat. "The boss told me to look for a man with white hair and an eyepatch traveling with a younger guy. Not exactly a common sight, is it?" he said, his smile stretching wider. "I figured it had to be you two. You don't see too many people sporting eye patches these days, do you?"
I rolled my eyes. Clearly, Tom had sent ahead a description before we landed. Still, something about this guy rubbed me the wrong way, and I wasn't about to drop my guard just because he seemed harmless.
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