Chương 1137: 35
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Chapter 35: Teamwork Makes The Dream Work
In the days following the escape of the Secret Six from the 'tender mercies' of The Society, all of the team members spent their time recovering and waiting for the next time they would be dispatched at the whim of Mockingbird.
Speaking of whom, Max hadn't managed to get any closer to determining just who their shadowy benefactor was.
He hadn't been in contact with them since they'd returned to their mansion base. Max hadn't felt a single transmission come in for him to try and intercept, and he'd been trying. There was just nothing to try and latch onto. A verbal conversation would have been best, as it would have given him seconds to minutes to try and trace the origin, but even a message of some sort would do when he was getting nothing.
It was frustrating. He wasn't an expert with that ability, but seriously, he'd been sitting and waiting for something related to Mockingbird. No joy, however.
Progress was made in other areas, however, and not entirely by his doing.
One day, while Max had been exercising in the gym that was open for use in the mansion, Scandal came in and set a very large, very secure jar filled with some kind of metallic powder on the floor.
Max paused in the middle of his workout and stared curiously at the team's organizer, "Uh, hi?"
"Hi," Scandal replied curtly, gesturing to the jar, "This is for you. Can you move it?"
Max popped the tightly secured jar open and ran his hands through the powder inside. Almost immediately upon opening the jar, he felt the potential to manipulate it with his magnetic powers.
"Huh. Metal," He hummed in interest, "What is this exactly?"
"Ironsand," Scandal told him, interested in how Max responded to what he'd been given.
Max gave her an odd look, "That's a thing?" Clearly it was, seeing as how he was sifting through it, "So, what do you want me to do with this?"
Scandal stood back, arms crossed under her bosom, "With your magnetic powers, having a constant source of some kind of metal around you at all times seems like it would be a boon to our team," She said, "Imagine, being able to take that, and turn it into whatever you need at a moment's notice."
He did think about it. It was a great thought. Almost too good to be true. That being said, Max found it hard to manipulate. He could lift all of it, but when he tried to mold it into something, he found it difficult. It felt like trying to do the same with real sand, only using water wouldn't help him pack it properly.
Max wasn't about to give up though, as could see no shortage of ways he could utilize such a thing once he figured it out, "...This is gonna take a while. Not saying it's not possible, because I can do it, but I need time to figure it out. It's not gonna be useful by the next mission," He told Scandal, "Where'd you even get this idea?"
"It's not mine. It's Mockingbird's," Scandal informed him, getting Max to scowl at his mentioning. When exactly had they communicated with each other? "Your position on the team has been reevaluated. I didn't believe it when Deadshot told me, but you're just as strong as he said you were."
"Thank you?" Max replied, uncertain of whether this was a good thing or not, "So, what does that mean?"
At that, Scandal smiled at him, "It means, you're officially the heavy-hitter of the Secret Six."
Max was taken aback. A heavy-hitter? Him? It hadn't been that long ago that he'd regularly had his backside handed to him by others, "Is that such a good idea?"
"Yes," Scandal said, "Trust me, we really needed one. Your powers are great for combat," She worked to reassure him.
Despite this, the lessons taught to Max to run and hide, and fight as a last resort held strong, "But I'm a thief. Isn't that what you brought me on for?"
He would have much rather held that role than to be expected to go head-to-head with whatever archbastard supervillain from The Society was to be set upon them next.
"No one said you aren't anymore," Scandal reasoned diplomatically, "But Max, you can block bullets, throw electricity, and move things twenty times your own body weight without even touching them. You have the most destructive power out of the six of us, even if your fighting ability doesn't quite measure up to those with more experience."
Max didn't like it, but there was always the chance that they'd run into something that Deadshot couldn't put a bullet through, that Cheshire couldn't poison, or that Catman couldn't dice up. It was what it was.
Max relented, "Fine. Just... fine," It wasn't like he couldn't throw his power around. He just didn't feel comfortable with it. It went against everything he'd ever learned. Whatever he needed to do at this point to survive this nightmare and get paid, "I like you guys, sans Cheshire, so I'll do it. But I do it my way. If I don't have to fight to a finish to make sure we all get away, I won't."
Scandal didn't seem to have any issues with that, "I'm not exactly of the mind to send anyone on a suicide mission."
"I don't put it past out illustrious 'Mockingbird', though" Max said, packing away his ironsand. If nothing else, he had a new thing to practice his control with in his spare time, "Seriously, he's going to give me Australia if this all works out? Who the hell does this guy think he is? Or girl. Because how the fuck do we know?"
"We don't. We don't know anything," Scandal said, taking that moment to leave the room, "Make sure you're ready, Max. I don't imagine that the next mission will be any easier than the last one."
XxX
(The Next Night – Acre Region - Brazil - 37 Miles From Peruvian Border)
Going to Gotham City for his first mission was no small piece of unpleasantness for Null. It was a place he was far too familiar with to be comfortable skulking around with some people he'd rather not be associated with. Going to the Brazilian rain forest was a different kind of discomfort. One of being wholly out of his element.
He was a city kid. He'd spent all of his time in the city. He had no desire to spend any time amongst plant life, and animal life, and especially without any modern amenities around. That last one was for more pragmatic reasons than for anything else. It meant there would be no electricity to absorb in a pinch.
Luckily, with the exception of Rag Doll, everyone else seemed to be comfortable, or at least familiar with operating out in the wilderness.
All members of the team were dressed in black versions of their outfits, provided, with the exception of Null, by Mockingbird. The group scouted the area from a cliffside, heavily concealed by trees, darkness of night, and heavy rainfall.
Below resided a large dome-like structure that nearly blended in with its surroundings. Even with high-tech binoculars, it was difficult to see, and from where they were, no doors or windows were visible.
"A place like this is perfect for The Society," Scandal remarked, still wearing business attire, albeit with rain boots and an umbrella, "Law is virtually nonexistent here, and the nearest city is very distant. As far away as the stars, I'd say."
Catman surveyed as far as he could with the help of the aforementioned binoculars, "Any possibility of local interference?" He asked.
"Most of the locals have been killed, Catman," Scandal told him, "The timbermen cut the trees, and the cattlemen need the land for their herds. The survivors are called the hiding tribes," A small smirk came to her face, "The last thing that would make them sad is if all of the outsiders slaughtered each other for a change."
"You know a lot about this place, Scandal," Null said, sitting off to the side with Deadshot, who was checking his weaponry, and Rag Doll, who was idly contorting himself to pass the time.
Scandal turned and walked towards the jeep of the man that guided them, "Yes, well, it's probably because I am one of the natives."
Well... everyone had to come from somewhere, after all.
Deadshot took her admission as an opening to follow up on, following her to the jeep as she spoke Portuguese to the old man driving, "Well, isn't that convenient. Our little hall monitor just happens to be from the same hellhole where Luthor put his... whatever we're here to destroy."
Scandal was annoyed, but kept her tone short and professional, "I admit the coincidence. Nothing more," She said, before returning her attention to the driver, who had been enraptured with her since they had enlisted his services.
The man didn't speak English, leaving Cheshire to freely speak of his possible fate, well within reasonable earshot, "We should kill the guide, even if he thinks Scandal is pretty. Bad eyes or bad brain, he's a loose end," She grinned, wiggling her fingers tipped with her gold-colored claws, "I'll do it. I'm good with loose ends."
Null sighed. Of course Cheshire volunteered to off some unfortunate old man, "Hey, just an idea here. Can we not murder random fuckers in the middle of the jungle, please?"
Cheshire circled Null and touched under his chin with her claws, "You were fine with turning Captain Nazi into a vegetable and then having Deadshot kill him," She pointed out.
"-Because he beat me and had me tortured for days!" Null replied, carefully moving his face away from her poison claws without nicking himself, "And his name was Captain Nazi. As in, the living embodiment of Nazism!" Null gestured to the man in the jeep, "That's an old-ass man that wants to see Scandal naked. These two things are not the same."
"Eh, a corpse is a corpse."
"All corpses are not created equal."
"Cheshire, no," Catman eventually put his foot down, and amazingly enough, Cheshire listened, "Scandal, you convince him. You tell him, he leaves this area any sooner than thirty minutes from now, he dies. Understand? Make him believe."
Though Cheshire listened, that didn't stop her from complaining about it regardless, "Are there no men left in the world, I ask you?"
Null hummed thoughtfully, "I wouldn't say that when one of the dudes here has been inside of you at various times this week," He then realized at this point that she was glaring at him, "...I mean, no shame to your game. Just saying."
If someone like Cheshire was what Catman felt like sticking his penis into, more power to him. Even though Null didn't like anything about Cheshire, to the extent that he couldn't have cared less that she was an extremely beautiful woman, it wasn't like Null had a leg to stand on in that department. His ex was Rose Wilson, after all. At the best of times, and at Rose's most calm and collected, she was still a terrible person.
Catman ignored the conversation between the thief and the assassin, choosing instead to informally brief the party, "We all know the plan. Two power sources are showing. We need to shut them down if we can, and hack every bit of data we can get out of the mainframe."
Deadshot piped up, filling in a few of the blanks just in case, "The stealth tech in these suits is only designed to baffle the sensors, so stay outta sight 'til the last possible moment on the perimeter. Savvy?"
"There are no roads or rails in or out," Rag Doll observed, taking his turn with the binoculars, "No river access or landing pads."
"Maybe they have transporter technology, stolen from the Justice League," Catman commented.
While it may have been of some interest as to how the Society got things in and out, it didn't really matter how they did it in the grand scheme of things. The Secret Six didn't plan on staying around long enough for any of that to matter, and once they were finished, the base would be useless.
Catman frowned at the soggy conditions, "Rain's not the best weather we can ask for, but that can't be helped," Forecasts showed that the downpour wasn't going to stop for days, "We're going in. Scandal, you can stay behind if you like."
Scandal scoffed and walked away, throwing her umbrella aside and shedding her suit as she did, "No, I don't think so. I'll be going with you."
Deadshot perked up, given the first opportunity to see some skin in quite a little while, "Hey, I'm okay with it."
Unconcerned, Scandal continued to change. She had shed her management attire for a high-collared sleeveless black top that revealed her stomach and had silver armor at the shoulders. On her lower half, she wore black pants and silver-trimmed boots.
To finish everything up, she grabbed a pair of silver gauntlets that she slid over her hands and wrists, "These have been in my family for... for a very long time," With a quick motion, retractable blades slid out of the ends, "They are called the Laminas Pesar - the Lamentation Blades."
Null had no problems with it. Scandal going with them just meant another body to help out if things went wrong, "Great! Let's go get ourselves paid then."
XxX
(Gotham City)
Selina didn't know what to expect when she got a knock at her balcony door. After resolving to spend a night in for once, the last thing she wanted was some kind of super community interaction, even if it was Batman himself rapping at her penthouse.
Whatever she'd had in mind, it definitely hadn't been Supergirl, in costume, looking quite uncomfortable.
That made two of them.
Supergirl didn't think she would feel so weird about going to see Catwoman until she was right there in front of her. They were both active in the hero-villain community, after all. Supergirl had more in common with Catwoman than with regular people.
The problem was though, that this wasn't just someone else she met in her line of work. This was more or less the foster sister for the boy she was smitten with.
"Can I help you?" Selina asked. Supergirl opened her mouth, only for her reply to be preempted, "-Help you in any way that doesn't require me to leave my home, or interact with you for longer than 5 minutes, I mean."
Selina didn't know why she opened the door for her in the first place, but something wouldn't let her just shoo the blonde Kryptonian away.
"Uh… is Max around?"Supergirl clumsily asked before launching into apology nearly immediately, "I'm sorry! Normally I wouldn't bother doing anything in Gotham City because Batman won't let me, but I was talking to Batgirl and she said if I really wanted to find him, to start with you-."
"-Hold on, hold on," Selina cut her off before Supergirl could overthink and ramble, "So, he's not with you?"
Supergirl ceased in her awkwardness and instead took on an air of confusion, "No. Why would you think he was with me?"
Selina rolled her eyes before replying matter-of-factly, "Because last time he up and vanished on me, he was with you," Supergirl had the good grace to look embarrassed at that. Still, it meant that now Selina was in the same boat as her, with no leads as to where Max was, "Well, there's just no telling where he is this time, is there?"
A measure of worry crept into Supergirl's tone, "He's missing?"
"I wouldn't say missing, because he messages and calls back," The older woman admitted, "He is being pretty cagey about where he is and what he's doing, but I do that to him all the time."
"Oh," Supergirl sighed in relief.
Selina belatedly figured saying that Max was 'missing' might have been a tad… drastic. They weren't relatives, so they had no obligation to inform each other of their comings and goings. Quite often, Max had found himself in some kind of situation and would only offer what amounted to an after-action report in the days or weeks that followed. One that Selina would guarantee he'd heavily edited in his head before the details reached her ears.
That he had been in touch at all in order to prove that he was alive, and was still well enough to be a cheeky dick-waffle about it, was enough.
"What do you want him for?" Selina asked, "Please don't tell me he has a super-stalker."
"What? No!" Supergirl took added offense to that, having just dealt with one of her own, "It's just… you're aware of what's going on, aren't you?"
Selina raised an eyebrow, "I'm afraid you're going to have to be more specific. I've been abroad for the last month or so."
Supergirl waved her arms and took a moment to clarify, "No-no. This was in the works before that. It's just... you really don't know anything about The Society?" Selina just gave off a blank expression in return, "The Secret Society of Supervillains?"
"No, I guess my invite was lost in the mail," The cat burglar quipped.
Supergirl spared a slight smile, "That, or your grayer moral outlook on things kept you off of their recruitment list. Which is good for you by the way. Those people play hardball. And they want everyone. Villains all over this city are getting involved."
At that, Selina scowled, "No. Not good for me," She said, "East End has always been a cesspool. Now you're telling me there's something capable of bringing the freaks that run around Gotham City together."
Supergirl shook her head, "Not just the city. All over the world. Seriously. And it's not exactly a recent thing."
To that end, Selina thought back to recent events that not only she, but her wayward protégé found themselves in, the people involved, and more.
"That... would explain some things," Selina remarked. Such as the assorted list of certain villainous individuals Max had to deal with simultaneously in some past situations, "...It would explain a lot of things, actually."
Supergirl rubbed her arm aimlessly. It was more difficult than she'd thought trying to talk to the closest thing to family her intended beau had, "I just wanted to warn Max, and make sure he's not involved. I care about what happens to him," She internally kicked herself for adding that last part, 'Am I really this bad at people-ing?' She thought to herself.
"You think he'd tell the truth if he was?" Selina ventured in an effort to dissuade Supergirl.
Supergirl chuckled, "Max doesn't lie. He omits details, tries to sidetrack, and lets people come to their own conclusions, but he's never lied, either to me, or in front of me."
If she cornered him on it, which she felt she wouldn't even have to, he would give up whether he had any involvement or not fairly easily. A thief who could be considered relatively honest. What even was that?
Selina noticed the fond way Supergirl smiled when talking about Max, and how she'd seemed to relax. Selina fought the urge to pick on her the way she would have for Max. That might have made the girl think she liked her or something.
"He doesn't keep a lot of company," Selina admitted. She could count Max's list of potential contacts on one hand, "If you don't know where he is, and I don't know, that's that. Just wait until he turns up again."
"-And hope he's not in some kind of trouble?" Supergirl added on.
Selina couldn't help but laugh, "Oh, honey. Of course he's in some kind of trouble. The hope is that it's some kind of trouble he can handle."
XxX
(Acre Region - Brazil - 37 Miles From Peruvian Border)
Getting into the Society stronghold without being noticed served to be a problem. Null was sent in to probe for an opening to use, but this was more of a military installation than any criminal fortress he'd set himself upon in the past.
There were sentries posted throughout, garbed in full black and yellow suits that made them resemble bees. Fitting, as the facility was staffed by an organization identified by the others as H.I.V.E.
Cute. Null had never dealt with or heard of them, but then again, he was the clear-cut rookie out of the lot of them. Either way, the whole point was to get as far as they could without tipping anyone off. His continued search for a clandestine way in led him to one possible point for infiltration.
Much as had been surmised from their previous vantage point, there was no doorway or window in. Null wondered how the sentries changed shifts, but realized they didn't have that kind of time. Thirty minutes, Catman had said. He was on the clock. Thus, that led him to really one one option.
-A drainage pipe for sewage runoff. Every building needed some way for the bad stuff to get out after people did their business.
The Six stood around the would-be vulnerable point, staring at it with varying degrees of distaste.
"This is it?" Deadshot drawled, wholly unimpressed, "Our way in involves crawling through a river of shit? Can a person even fit in there?"
"Past a certain point? I'd imagine not." Null admitted before turning to the contortionist of the group, "Sorry to pack the buck to you on this one, Rag Doll. I'd go, but I really can't fit in there."
Even if he tried to use his powers to force the pipes wider, there was only so much he could do to manage it.
Deadshot snorted in amusement, "Really? I thought you were passing the buck because this is clearly a shit pipe."
Despite that, Rag Doll seemed to be analyzing the pipe, gauging his chances of actually managing to squeeze through.
"This..." Rag Doll said, his voice betraying the excitement the challenge posed, "...This... shall be my aria."
As sick as it seemed, the impossibility and the detestable nature of the task made it that much more fulfilling for him. He didn't hesitate to pull himself into the opening. As long as his head could fit through, which was made easier by the fact that his skull was just as easy to contort as the rest of his body, he could make it work.
And so, Rag Doll was left to his lonely work of crawling and twisting himself through the sewage pipe, like a snake of urban legend.
Given that the whole thing had been Null's idea, he kept in contact with the avatar of its execution all the way through, "You alive in there, Rag Doll?"
More alive than ever, in fact. He relished the opportunity, "I wish my father could see this. It's a beautiful, odoriferous, masterpiece."
"Uh... okay. Well, since you're sneaking, and because I don't want to hear anymore about this, I'm gonna go silent until you're done."
In the end, Rag Doll pulled himself up through a toilet, in front of a lone H.I.V.E. soldier washing his hands after previously using it. The sheer horror behind the man's helmet as a horribly disjointed Rag Doll pounced on him was a picture worth a thousand words.
"Magnificent," Rag Doll reveled in his own success as he strangled the H.I.V.E. soldier to death with his malleable limbs.
XxX
On the outside, the team waited at the agreed upon area of the breach for any news of progress from Rag Doll. Null had done them all a favor and turned off communications after the point where they heard water and excrement from the toilet flushing shoot down the pipe onto Rag Doll.
Everyone there made the conscientious decision to stick Rag Doll in the hold during the flight back. The private jet they had at their disposal was nowhere near big enough to justify allowing him in the cabin without a half a dozen scalding showers first.
Eventually, the comm line came alive from Rag Doll's end, "The charge is now set, and I smell like an atrocity," He reported, quite pleased with his work.
Null sighed in relief, "You're a weird dude, but good job."
"Right. A command performance 'Doll," Catman declared in support, " Claws sharp, everyone. Scandal, if we're lucky, you'll have five minutes."
Not exactly a lot of time, even if they expected her to work unmolested. As it stood, once the charges went off, the soldiers of the H.I.V.E. would swarm upon them. It would be up to the rest of them to keep the enemy off of Scandal's back, but even then, she could expect to have to pull double duty and deal with some of them herself.
At least they would have the element of surprise on their side.
*BOOM!*
When the explosion went out, Null used the cover of smoke and debris to scurry inside of the opening and attach himself to the ceiling. Seconds after his entry, H.I.V.E. troops moved in to cover the brand new hole in the base they were manning.
A lithe woman with vertical black hair wearing a bee-themed outfit flew into the air, commanding the forces ahead, "We are under zzzsiege! Defend your queen bee! Protect the hive!"
"Secure the breach!" Soldiers shouted as they rushed into position, "Protect the queen!"
Catman stood at the opening as H.I.V.E. operatives advanced, "Evening. I'd like you all to meet my backup," He backflipped over Deadshot, revealing the man aiming his wrist-mounted guns that he proceeded to open fire with.
"Hi, guys," Deadshot greeted as he gunned down anything in black and yellow that moved into his field of vision, "This ain't personal."
Bodies dropped, and Cheshire and Scandal used the fall of the first wave to enter. The second wave approached, taking aim at the speedy women, only to find their blaster rifles taken away by an unseen force. Eyes gazed up to see where their weapons went, only to see them coming towards Null on the ceiling.
With their eyes on him, a great many H.I.V.E. agents were cut down by Scandal and Cheshire, the former taking off to find the mainframe of the base.
"I've got Scandal!" Null declared, dropping down from the ceiling to follow the path Scandal had cut through the enemy.
Cheshire delighted in slicing into hapless foes. Outmatched in hand-to-hand combat, many of them scrambled for their weapons that Null had disarmed them of. Eventually, a few managed to scoop them up, some of them behind Cheshire while she took their comrades to task.
The moment they pointed their blasters at Cheshire, Catman swooped in, slicing one down with the claws on his suit and smashing another's face in with an elbow strike. Cheshire spared him a grateful glance, and Catman nodded before they continued fighting on their own. Their interaction went unspoken... by them. Not by Deadshot.
"Funny how you can care, even about someone like her," Deadshot remarked, sliding over to Catman, firing at H.I.V.E. soldiers as he went back-to-back with his Secret Six ally.
"What?" Catman replied, feigning confusion.
He wanted to act as though nothing had happened. But the great thing about being a marksman at Deadshot's level was that you could see everything going on in your field of vision, "Her. Cheshire," He clarified, "I heard she set off a nuke."
Catman lifted a H.I.V.E. soldier over his head and threw it at an approaching group of them, "You don't know she did that," He didn't put it past her, though. Nor did he want to talk about his potential romantic partners any longer, "Null! Is Scandal at that mainframe yet?"
"Working on it!" Null replied, taking to fighting the H.I.V.E. agents hand-to-hand, and through his powers, "Can't really block bullets for Scandal if they're not using bullets!"
Using her bladed gauntlets, Scandal managed to reach the mainframe, cutting through the bellies of two H.I.V.E. operatives barring her path. Blood staining her hands, she set herself to work on the computer now at her fingertips.
As Null continued to protect her while she was vulnerable, a flying figure swept in, flying around him in disorienting patterns. Null couldn't keep track, despite his magnetic field warning him, and found himself swinging at areas in the air where he felt something, much like one would for a bee buzzing around their head.
H.I.V.E. soldiers took the opening to try and close in on him, but it was much easier for Null to sense when they approached. He blasted one of them with electricity, and the others were close enough for electricity to branch off and chain onto them. It continued on from there to anyone else close enough for the electricity to jump off to. Their weapons made outstanding conductors.
The distraction left Null open to a kick to the head from a flying enemy that knocked him to the ground. Null pushed himself up to a knee, blood dripping from his mouth where a cut had opened up inside.
"Zzzso zzzsorry, dear," The bee lady taunted, flying above the downed teenager, "But you have to die, you zzzsee. You and all your little friends," She took aim with a cannon mounted around her forearm.
Null desperately put up a magnetic shield as she fired. Unlike the rank-and-file H.I.V.E. fighters, this queen seemed to shoot metal stingers. Metal stingers that Null could deflect. A few unfortunate H.I.V.E. soldiers caught the business end of the stingers once they were sent flying. Even ones that didn't hit anything released a gas when the tips made contact with the ground or the wall.
Null rose back to his feet, taunting the queen as he did, "Nice shot, you team-killing fuck."
Killing her own people in the course of trying to stop the Secret Six didn't seem to be much of a concern for her, "They are just droneszzz. What do their liveszzz mean?" She said, "There are alwayszzz more where they came from."
"Really going in with the bee motif, aren't we?" Null grumbled.
The queen lifted her gauntlet to take another shot at Null when she noticed Scandal and grinned, taking aim at her instead, "You can stop my stingerszzz, but can she?"
Before she could fire, Deadshot shot her wrist-cannon, destroying it around her arm, "Come on now, Zazzala. No need to shoot the lady with the nice caboose."
The queen, Zazzala, glared at Deadshot and flew through H.I.V.E. operatives, using them as human shields to avoid his gunfire. By the time she took to the air again to search for Null, he was nowhere in her sight, "Where did the boy go?"
A heavy weight landed on Zazzala's back while she was in the air, as a pair of legs wrapped tight around her waist and hands grasped around her head. Electricity coursed through her body, shocking her into unconsciousness.
As she dropped from the sky, the perpetrator of her defeat, Null landed on his feet right next to her, having played the role of human bug zapper. Instead of the black supersuit he had entered the base with, the color was now a luminous red.
"Hah!" Null crowed victoriously as he jogged back over to Scandal. The remainder of the Six had finished taking down what was left of the H.I.V.E. soldiers, "I can't believe that bullshit actually worked! I was halfway screwing around 'cuz she's an alien bee lady."
"What did you do?" Catman asked, he and Deadshot also approaching Scandal at the mainframe terminal, "You were right in front of her. Why couldn't she see you?"
"Bees can't see red," Null said with a chuckle, "What a weakness."
Deadshot almost had to tear his eyes away from the blindingly red thief, "Why do you even know that?" He asked.
Null shrugged, "Jeopardy."
Deadshot squinted suspiciously at him from behind his mask, "...I'll allow it," He could admit that Alex Trebek was the man, "Now can you change that eyesore color? We all can't be as lucky as Zazzala to not have to see it."
Catman walked up to Scandal and put a hand on her shoulder. She had been engrossed in whatever she'd been taking from their mainframe for quite some time, "Where are we at, Scandal?"
"Merciful gods, what are they planning?" Scandal whispered before answering properly, "The whole complex... it's a power battery. It's using mammoth amounts of energy. They're going-. I can hardly believe it myself, but they're going to mindwipe the Justice League. All of the heroes. Every last one."
Seeing that there was a momentary respite, Deadshot pulled his mask off for a quick cigarette, "Tch. Good riddance. I say let 'em," He said as his lighter brought a flame to life.
Catman shook his head at Deadshot's nihilistic outlook, "You're not thinking, Lawton. You really want to hand over absolute power to the Society?"
"Better them than those sanctimonious, smug hypocrites," Deadshot argued back.
"I'm with Catman here," Null said, "I'd rather heroes like the Justice League be around than not. Unless you feel like going twelve rounds against the next alien invasion, or the next psycho who wants to sink a continent yourself."
When pressed with that perspective, Deadshot almost changed his mind. Almost, "Hmm. I still think they can all bite it," He persisted.
Null also had more pragmatic reasons to keep heroes in one piece, "Also, we're getting paid for this. And if the Society wins, we're all gonna die, so, uh..."
It didn't need to be said. By this point, it didn't matter how any of them felt. As long as they valued their own lives, they had to keep going. There was no stepping out of line now.
Eventually, Deadshot threw his hands up, not caring enough to insist upon his own point, "Alright, alright, whatever! Let's save the capes then."
At that moment, an uncharacteristically chipper Cheshire, followed by Rag Doll approached the rest of the team, "About that. Great news," She said, pointing her thumb in a different direction of the base, "I found that power source we're supposed to be shutting down."
XxX
The Secret Six stood on an observation deck in front of a massive containment chamber that served as the heart of the Society base. Several large nodes absorbed the energy from the focal point of the room - two people unconscious and suspended inside of a volatile field of energy.
A girl none of them recognized, and a more notable figure. A young black man in a red and yellow outfit with tall headgear containing his flaming scalp.
Deadshot was the first to say anything, "Is that who I think it is?"
"Yeah," Catman confirmed that he was seeing the same thing as the rest of them, "No wonder they hid this place so well. The power from just this guy alone could level the whole goddamn continent."
That got Null's attention. Someone with that much power was stuck there? They all seemed to be aware of who it was, except for him, of course, "This is supposed to be the power source? Who is he?"
"Firestorm," Deadshot explained, "Long story short, he's basically ten nuclear weapons all rolled into one person."
Null stared at the captured superhero, dumbfounded, "And we're just gonna let him out? When he sees what is obviously a group of bad guys, won't he start blasting first and asking questions second?"
Scandal, Rag Doll, and Null were kind of unknowns, but from the blood drying on Scandal's hands, it was a safe bet where her alignment was. Catman was more notable as a bad guy than they were. Of the six of the, Deadshot and Cheshire were easily the most notorious. The latter could admit that the possibility of tangling with the same person they'd come to release was a distinct possibility.
"All the more reason to let him out and get out of here before more troops arrive," Cheshire said.
"I'm afraid we're too late for that," Scandal said, still tapped into the mainframe of the base, "Remember how Catman mentioned a transporter? Well, they have one. It's powering up, and I can't shut it down from this side," Her tone was grave, "It's Black Adam, and he's bringing the Royal Flush Gang."
More supervillains. More name supervillains. One in particular easily stood head and shoulders above the rest, and Null couldn't help but feel a bit overmatched at the idea of dealing with him, "Uh, Scand? When you changed my job to 'team heavy', you said you weren't going to make me pull a suicide mission. Fighting Black fucking Adam sounds like suicide to me."
Instincts ran deep. Because of his training, Null would never consider fighting as a first option if he didn't see a reason to do it. Aside from that, going toe-to-toe with an avatar of Egyptian gods didn't sound like his idea of a good time anyway. He didn't even know where to begin in tackling that kind of a challenge.
Deadshot could see Null's trepidation, and couldn't blame him for it, "The kid's right. We can take the Royal Flush Gang, but I'm not sure he can take Black Adam, and he's the only one with any chance to."
"Does anyone have a plan then?" Catman asked, "Because there's no way we can make it to the plane before they find us."
Scandal had a plan - kill the enemy before the enemy killed them, "I still say we fight. Take them with us if we have to."
None of them knew that she could be so bloodthirsty. Biting a woman's entire ear off aside, she'd seemed to have such a level head on her shoulders, right up until she put that outfit on and donned the Lamentation Blades.
"I have some neural toxin," Cheshire offered, "It might kill some of their number."
Some didn't mean all, and that meant Null wasn't making it out, which he was far from okay with, "Last stands are for chumps. I'm not dying in the butt end of the rainforest," He knew however that complaint without an alternative solution offered was worthless, "...I've got an idea."
Deadshot scoffed, "What, does it involve peeling part of your hands off again?" He jeered.
"No, dick," Null said, eyeing the containment chamber, "But it does involve passing the buck."
XxX
On the base's transporter, a group of five appeared, riding on flying playing cards – the Royal Flush Gang. Though previous incarnations of the group took on the stereotypical attire of the face cards they represented, the newest version seemed more akin to thugs. The only thing tying them to the Royal Flush Gang motif was that they wore the images akin to their position – king, queen, jack, etc. That, and the flying cards they rode.
Leading the pack was a tall, muscular man in a black and gold outfit with a lightning bolt image going down the chest. He had dark skin, slick black hair, and pointed ears. His demeanor lent itself to leadership unopposed.
This was Black Adam.
"No quarter given," He demanded, once they were all through to the other side, "This is war."
The Queen of Clubs of the Royal Flush Gang voiced the very confident opinion of her team, "Oh, someone's gonna get popped."
The entire base was littered with various dead and wounded members of H.I.V.E., including the 'queen bee' of the organization. Zazzala sat injured, not too far from the mainframe.
Zazzala gazed up at the approach of Black Adam and company, "Must... zzzstop them..." She gestured in the direction of the power source.
Black Adam grit his teeth angrily and quickly took off flying that way. The Royal Flush Gang followed behind as fast as they could, "At all costs, protect the primary power source," Adam demanded, "He is indispensable. He is crucial. He is-."
The Society villains came to a stop at the entrance to the containment area. Instead of finding the Secret Six there, trying to obtain their power source, they found the source himself; out and about, brimming with raw power.
"-He is free," Black Adam finished gravely.
"Hi guys," The newly freed Firestorm said with faux pleasantness. The nuclear energy he was projecting in his hands and building up in his entire body was a dead giveaway, "I've been looking forward to a little chat since you locked me up in that containment field."
Black Adam braced himself for the very worst. With no one around to be concerned with protecting, and with quite the grudge built against those that had captured him, he had no reason to hold back his considerable destructive power.
None of the Royal Flush Gang didn't even bother pointing their weapons at him. They already knew the score. Black Adam had a chance, but they were entirely out of luck.
"Gotta warn you though," Firestorm's eyes glowed a dangerous bright nuclear yellow, "I'm grouchy as fuck when I first wake up."
XxX
*BOOM!*
While heading up the mountainside away from the Society base, the sound of the deafening explosion caused the Secret Six to turn around in time to see the massive explosion that obliterated the domed building.
"Oh, look," Cheshire remarked with a grin, "Fireworks."
Deadshot couldn't help but spare a chuckle at how their departure had worked out, "Nice job, kid. Couldn't have washed my hands of the situation better myself."
Null accepted the verbal pat on the back. He couldn't help but feel quite pleased with the outcome, "Hey, the mission was to shut the power source down. Nobody ever told us it was a person, and no one ever said we had to do anything afterwards."
Whether or not he could take on Black Adam was irrelevant. He didn't want to fight the man in the first place, so why go there when there was someone who was definitely powerful enough to do the job, and much more eager to, just sitting there right in front of them. It was outsourcing at its finest. Even the most bloodthirsty of them could appreciate that.
Catman wasn't one of the more bloodthirsty, and he absolutely could appreciate any outcome that got them out of there in one piece with the mission accomplished, "No need for anything else, clearly. Firestorm's a big boy and can take care of himself."
Scandal led the way up the mountainside back to their guide, "I still say we should have tried to kill some of them ourselves."
"If it makes you feel any better, you can say we secondhand killed them," Null offered with the experience of a person accustomed to dealing with woman who had violent tendencies, "I'm pretty sure at least a few of them aren't walking away from that."
Scandal let out a sigh, "It's just not the same."
As the one amongst them with the lowest taste for violence, Max could only defer to the 'expertise' of the others in that department, "I'll take your word for it."
XxX
(10 Hours Later - Somewhere in Rural Vermont - House of Secrets)
Catman relaxed in bed with Cheshire, both quite nude, relaxing post-coitus, as they had gotten accustomed to doing together, "I take back what I said, Blake. You're definitely male," Cheshire remarked, lying on her side.
"I'm happy to hear that, Jade," Catman remarked in return, I'd been suspecting that for some time now. Happy to have it confirmed."
Almost immediately after returning to the mansion, Cheshire had given him that look, and it had been off to the races. As they departed for Catman's room, Deadshot had snarkily remarked how they were the only two people there getting laid, or something along those lines. He hadn't paid much attention, seeing as how his hand had been underneath Cheshire's skirt by that point.
Thomas Blake knew he was playing with fire. The man known as Catman wasn't a fool, even though years of ill-fated endeavors and mounting failures.
Having Cheshire in his bed was one of the riskiest things he could have ever done, and yet he had. Several times, in fact. In his defense, she was a beautiful woman, and it had been some time since he'd last had relations. The adrenaline from near-death experiences certainly worked wonders on one's libido.
Cheshire gently ran a finger over Catman's chest, specifically around the claw scars he possessed, "I'd been told you were a fool, Thomas. But when you speak, dangerous people listen," She declared before asking a question, "...Were you really once eaten by a monkey?"
Catman chuckled at the absurd-sounding question, "Well, first, gorillas aren't monkeys. Second, that particular gorilla was an egomaniacal liar. I'm not sure how much of this story is true, and I was there. But you might say I was swallowed by metaphor, and digested by self-loathing." Any humor he might have felt quickly drifted away, "When a Frenchman and an ape think you're not even worth killing, that's a bit of a dark day."
He remembered how he'd made his debut on the stage of heroes and villains. He'd come from money and had squandered that fortune chasing his hobby surrounding his love of hunting big cats. He'd then turned to crime, using the fruits of that hobby in the process.
It was tough to think about, because things didn't start off badly, "I didn't begin as a joke, I had many advantages. And somehow, I'd allowed myself to become the lowest rung on an already short ladder," Catman said, "I'd let terror and stupidity dominate every part of my life."
When he fell off, he fell off hard, and there seemed to be no end to his descent. His skills dropped, he gained an exorbitant amount of weight. It became a vicious cycle.
"I once fought Batman to a standstill, and yet, years later I was reduced to a weeping mass in my own home by Green Arrow," The worse his mindset, the more his stock deteriorated in the eyes of villains and heroes alike, to the extent that he even came to hate himself, and everything around him, "...I abused women. Anything weaker than myself, I despised."
Cheshire was posted on her elbow, cheek in her hand as she listened curiously, "So, what happened?"
The best decision he'd ever made, that was what. One that turned everything around, "I chose to murder my old life – to break its neck in Africa, where money is only good for lighting fires," It was something he never regretted afterwards, "I traded up."
It had been a clean slate. A desperately needed fresh start. There, all he needed to worry about was keeping himself and the lions that he found and started to care for alive. Even if one of them wound up leaving their mark across his chest. He got back in shape, actually becoming more dangerous than ever. It had been a good way to live.
But all good things came to an end eventually.
"One day, I was retrieving water – humans don't store it as efficiently as the great cats," Catman explained, continuing his story, "I smelled tobacco on the wind... heard the sound of the chopper. I thought it was poachers, but when I came running back... Deathstroke had been to my camp," His expression turned grim, "The Society doesn't like people who say 'no', evidently."
His pride of lions, lying motionless, bloody on the ground, and Deathstroke looking down on him, flying off, out of his reach.
Catman spoke quietly, "He should have killed me. I was begging for the bullet. But he just left me there. Not worth killing. Again."
He had done his damndest to become a new man. But the world he'd come from only saw the old Thomas Blake. The failure. The disgrace. And he'd been unable to keep from proving them right.
That was what this was really for. Pride. Redemption. That, and an excuse to show them all to never make the mistake of thinking of him as a soft target again. Other things too, but he wasn't going to touch on those.
"My poor little kitten," Cheshire cooed, laying her head on Catman's shoulder, "Scratching out shameful tears into the dirt. And now, I know all your secrets."
"What's that supposed to mean?" Catman replied. None of the things he said were necessarily anything he'd tried to keep concealed.
Cheshire pushed herself up and smirked down at him, "I know about the letter you sent to Green Arrow," Her smirk grew when she felt Catman's body tense up, "I know you've consistently shown mercy to some of our worst enemies-."
"-Even Null did that," Catman said, trying to deflect.
Cheshire rolled her eyes, "Yes, but the boy is a boy. It's clear he's yet to take anyone's life in cold blood. But you don't mind that sort of thing."
"What's your point, Jade?" Catman asked defensively.
"You're a spy, Catman," Cheshire stated bluntly, hovering over the man, "You want to be one of them, the 'heroes'. You want to be respected by men of virtue. And now, I have to decide whether or not to kill you for your betrayal. It's arousing," She punctuated with a peck on the forehead.
Catman found himself frozen in place, though not from some horrible poisonous concoction from the woman in his bed. It was from uncertainty over what came next, "If that's what you think... if you believe that... why are you in my bed?" He asked, "Why tell me you wanted me to give you this?"
Cheshire rested herself back down on Catman's bare chest, as if she hadn't said something as potentially dangerous as she had, "Oh, no, Blake. It's not this I wanted from you. Not primarily, in any case."
Catman didn't say anything else, simply staring at Cheshire, as if to beseech her to elaborate. He quickly wished she kept what she said next to herself.
"I wanted you to give me a baby."
XxX
The Brazil assignment had been a success. A quick blitz of a mission, less than thirty minutes in length, with hardly a mark on them. A shock-and-awe display of what they were capable of when operating properly. Everything that the Gotham City mission wasn't.
The Secret Six had done their jobs and done them well. Even with the resources available to them, The Society had little appropriate response to such a swift carrying out of a plan. It was as successful as it could have been.
...Yet Max felt no satisfaction in a job well-done. Why? Because as far as he could see, he hadn't benefited from it, and there was no light at the end of the tunnel.
So what if they destroyed one Society installation? It wasn't as if they didn't have more all over the world. It wasn't as if their pockets weren't deep enough to replace the one that the Secret Six destroyed. It was a setback losing control of Firestorm, yes, but there were always alternatives to any plan. As things stood, they were harassing them at best.
It felt like swimming upstream against a river; they could fight it for as long as possible, but eventually, they'd be swept away.
If their purpose was to destroy The Society, none of them knew how Mockingbird expected just the six of them to do it. Their tactics were guerrilla in nature and in outcome. They hurt, but were more setups for something bigger from someone or something with more numbers and knockout power. Numbers and knockout power that they didn't have.
If they hadn't had a convenient decoy in Firestorm, they would have had to fight Black Adam and company. That sort of resistance hadn't been expected, but what if it happened again? They were all self-serving. None of them were the type to sacrifice themselves for the team. None of them could be counted on to lay their lives down for the others. At that point, it was a game of chance as to who this would come back to bite first.
Something had to give, sooner rather than later, and Max needed an exit strategy to make sure that it didn't give on him.
With nothing better to do stuck in the House of Secrets between missions, Max lay on a large rug on the floor of the parlor, staring up at the chandelier on the ceiling, spinning it with his powers while he tried to think this problem out.
He was smart enough, capable of adapting, and learned his lessons well, but he was an infant in the superhero world, and he wasn't a genius. The electricity coursing through his body and his brain allowed him faster reactions and thoughts, but those things didn't automatically make those thoughts any more potent than anyone else in his position. It just meant he could rifle through those thoughts faster and settle on decisions quicker.
The intellect of a teenager, crafty though he may be, would only get him so far. It had kept him alive here, without endangering perhaps his only loved one, but it couldn't get him out. Not yet, at least.
It was in this state that Deadshot wandered by, noticing the state of the boy.
"Jeez, kid," The mercenary chimed in as he walked past the room and saw Max lying on the floor like a lump, "There's couches all over the place, and you have a room. Why are you down there?"
Max blinked his eyes listlessly in response, "Do you mean down here in the parlor, or down here on the floor?"
"Both," Deadshot said, bored and with nothing else to occupy him.
At that prompting, a distasteful scowl crossed Max's face, "Catman and Cheshire have been fucking for the last three hours," He raised both of his index fingers and swirled them around, "While we were gone, the rooms in this place shifted again. Mine moved to a place close enough where I can hear them. They're both noisy. No bueno."
Deadshot smirked at the boy's misfortune. He had noticed the sounds and the claw mark on the closed door where the sounds emanated from. It was anyone's guess as to which of the two of them left the mark, "And as to why you're currently getting acquainted with the dust bunnies?"
Max didn't bother looking over at the man, instead continuing to stare straight up, "Plotting. Scheming. Thinking of a master plan. Failing at it, though."
Deadshot swished the glass of scotch he held idly, "Meaning what exactly?" The last scheme he remembered Max hatching in Brazil worked out fine for the lot of them.
Max sighed deeply and rolled over, deciding to reveal his issue, "I've been trying for a whole week to find Mockingbird. Nothing."
Finding Mockingbird? The bastard that had press-ganged him into playing ball with the Secret Six? Now Deadshot was interested, "How have you been trying?"
Max rolled over and pushed himself up off of the floor, "I can pick up on electronic waves and read them. I haven't gotten anything coming in the whole time, but Scandal is still getting orders through her comm watch thing, and I can't get anything from it."
That woman. Deadshot kind of respected her. She had guts. But he didn't know the first thing about her. He was at least familiar with the rest of the team, minus Rag Doll. But he was fairly straightforward. Scandal was hard to read, which meant it was hard to anticipate what she could or would do.
It made him feel vulnerable. Deadshot didn't do vulnerable.
Max punched into his palm and growled, "I want to get back at whoever pulled us into this. But at the very least, I want out."
"Some of us are too comfortable with just doing Mockingbird's bidding," Deadshot remarked, "Wonder why Scandal's the one he chose as the go-between for us and him."
"You could always just ask her."
Both Deadshot and Max turned to find Scandal hanging around the entrance to the parlor, an unreadable expression on her face. Neither of them could tell if she was upset, or if she felt anything at all really. Her poker face was marvelous.
Max decided to bite the bullet and deal with the woman directly, "You know what? You're right. I could just ask you. But I don't think you have any more to do with Mockingbird than the rest of us."
Scandal regarded Max with a shrewd look, "You don't?"
Even Deadshot didn't quite believe it, "Yeah, you don't?" Personally, he still had thoughts that leaned that way. He didn't even try to hide them.
Max shrugged, not knowing what else they wanted from him, "Scandal, you hate this as much as the rest of us do. And even if you're acting, if you were Mockingbird, you wouldn't have given me something to make me more dangerous, just in case I turned on you."
That ironsand would be a bitch for anyone else to have to deal with once he mastered it. Giving such a thing to anyone that you had wronged, even if you thought they had no chance at hurting you was foolish, it was arrogant.
To that point, Scandal had never shown a hint of arrogance.
Deadshot though, found it amusing that Max mentioned betrayal on his end, "Kid, you're too much of a gumdrop to turn on anyone. You're way too loyal."
Max had never been compared to such a thing before, and he wanted to dispute him, but couldn't. Despite being stuck with people he'd previously rather not have been around, he'd started adjusting. He was starting to like most of them.
"Probably," Max begrudgingly admitted, aware of one of his more glaring traits that had and would bite him.
He knew that it was stupid to be loyal. He knew that it wasn't in his best interests to try and be a team player. But he couldn't help himself.
Max had lived his life adapting as best he could to whatever situation he found himself in. He tried to work as best he could with what he had no matter what. That included with people. He could find something to like about most people, and he was extremely accepting of others. Given that he was a criminal, he didn't have much of a moral high ground to stand on, and he could separate what people did from who they were. It didn't help that he was fairly lonely as well.
It was how he'd wound up with amicable relationships with people who ranged from contract killers, to violent vigilantes, to serial burglars, to various superheroes. It was how he'd found a way to get along with Deadshot - a man that had put a bullet in his mentor.
That wasn't to say he trusted the Secret Six. He didn't trust any of them, even if he liked two of them in particular and was okay with two more. He hoped for the best, but was prepared for any of them to screw him over. It was just how he was.
Even the so-called good guys had pulled one over on him in the past. He would never forget how he was used by Batman, using him, a criminal, to get to another criminal. He didn't even know Dark Knight before that, and the man still screwed him over to try and flush Anarky out.
"I may not be much of a turncoat..." Max said, eyes hardening into a glare, "...But I know how to be an asshole to people who give me a reason."
"-And Mockingbird has given you a reason." Scandal said, a small smile forming on her face, "I'm happy to hear that, actually."
"You are?" Both Max and Deadshot said simultaneously before glancing at one another.
To be fair to them, Scandal had taken to the nature of their 'arrangement' with less complaint than the rest, not including Catman who joined for reasons of revenge.
"Yes," Scandal walked over to the pair of Deadshot and Max, "You are not the only one who resents being in this predicament. And you are not the only one who has been trying to find him," She said to the two of them respectively, "I have a lead to find information on him."
Deadshot let out a grunt, showing he was interested. He was still skeptical, though, "Not sure Mockingbird will be too happy about us traipsing off to do our own thing," He waved the surveillance bracelet on his wrist for emphasis.
Max could only nod in agreement. Otherwise, they would have been allowed to leave the House of Secrets between missions. As it stood, they were locked down unless dispatched to do what was assigned to them.
Scandal didn't seem particularly concerned about such a thing, "About that. I may have come up with something that might buy us a window of time, out of the sight of watchful eyes. And you, Max, helped."
Max had no recollection of helping Scandal with anything, either willingly or unwillingly, "What? How?"
"We can discuss that as we come up with a plan," Scandal said, choosing to reveal nothing at the moment, "...Are you two in?"
Deadshot seemed hesitant. He wanted badly to find some way to break free of the yoke, but he'd never played well with others, "I'm into the idea, even if I still don't quite trust you."
That much had always been obvious, "Nor do I, you, Deadshot. Either of you," Scandal said, "But what I do trust is that no one on this team takes well to the leash, and that we are all eager to bite the hand that pulls it."
Max was much quicker to make his decision, "Why not?" He said, "I was looking into a way to do it myself anyway. At least now, if we screw up, I won't go down alone."
With Max accepting first, Deadshot started coming around, "...Can you get the others onboard?" He asked.
Scandal looked up at the ceiling, to the floor of the mansion where the others were resting in their rooms, "I don't imagine it would be any harder than getting you two to agree," None of the Secret Six liked being blackmailed into being there.
Deadshot downed the rest of his drink in a single go and let out a grumpy groan, "Fine," He said, before pointing his index finger in Scandal's face, "But if you screw us over, lady, I've got a bullet with your name on it."
Scandal's only reaction was to smirk up at him, "I'd expect nothing less."
The two stared at each other for a tense moment before the youngest occupant of the room found himself to be over the bravado.
Max, tired of the posturing and guarded nature of every interaction on the team, rolled his eyes and started out of the parlor, "Why does everyone think that threatening each other does anything?" He complained, "People have tried to kill all of us before. We just got finished getting shot at 12 hours ago. Nothing anyone here does is gonna scare anyone else. Geez."
That was what he left them with, and it served to break the tension. Both Deadshot and Scandal watched him go with varying measures of amusement. In the end, Scandal offered her hand. After looking down at it for a moment, Deadshot grasped it in his and gave it a shake, striking an accord.
Whatever their differences were, whatever ther ability to interact with others was, whatever their lives outside of the House of Secrets just so happened to be, if there was one thing the Secret Six could agree on, it was that Mockingbird's hold on them had to be released.
...One way or another.
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