#36: "Trial By Fire, Pt 3 (HoM / DrDread)

James Gordon’s skin itched underneath the suit. He’d never enjoyed these functions, but as Commissioner he was expected to show, and show he did. He needed to keep up appearances, even though he was less inclined to agree with all the ‘elite’ chatting about their dislike of Batman in the wake of the destruction of half the city. That was his anger, and that anger was compromised by the sheer uncaring ‘dislike’ these people claimed to have. They chose the populist direction, tepid non-committal emotion over real connection. Like they knew the details. Like they cared that the Joker was the one who triggered the explosives. That Batman died fighting the man behind the entire attack on Gotham. Like they were bothered. The fact that he was amplified that anger inside of him.

“Dad?”

“Barbara?!” He rushed forward and embraced his adopted daughter tightly, spinning her and her dress around him 360. She was dressed in red, the silken material flowing down her body elegantly. “Honey, what are you doing here, I thought you were in Las Vegas, with your, hrm, ‘friends’.” He looked over to the man accompanying his daughter, and arched an eyebrow. “And who’s this?” Barbara blushed as James Gordon looked Ted Kord up and down. He leant in close to Kord’s face: “Green Arrow?”

Kord couldn’t hold in his laughter. “--Bwha!” He cleared his throat. “Sorry sir, no, I’m not anyone like that. I’m a business man. Well, less a business man, more an inventor by trade. Your daughter is an old college friend, it’s a long, convoluted story, and I don’t have the cue cards to get me through the conversation, so I’m just going to have to say: No. I am not who you think I am. I have less of a beard. No beard actually. And I’m rambling and I don’t know why.”

Gordon smiled, and sipped his drink, before replying. “…I was joking, Kord.”

Ted’s smile faded instantly.

“Dad, you’ve made Ted nervous,” she playfully punched Kord on the shoulder. “Isn’t it cute?”

“Yeah, cute.” Jim took a sip from his champagne. “It’s lovely to see you again, Barbara. I keep meaning to visit, but you know how things are down here, they get messy fast and clean up slow.”

“Completely. I came down in part to see you, we haven’t had the chance to talk. Ted and I just bumped into each other, and, well, here I am.”

“I’m surprised you aren’t here with Richard Grayson, to be honest, honey. I don’t see him around, and it’s basically his party.”

“By default,” mused Ted, before looking around the room. “Lot of glass in this place. That’s a bit,” he searched for the word, biting his bottom lip as he did so, “Kitsch, right?”

“I don’t like it,” replied Gordon. “I feel too--”

“--Exposed?” Ted offered, before nodding slowly. “Because that’s how I feel. Like I’m being watched.”

“Exactly.” James Gordon smiled. “So, Ted, you’re an inventor slash business man? How does that work?”



Rain, grumbled Dick. It had to be rain. He was crouched atop the Hyde Civic Centre, Robin hacking into the Wayne Enterprises satellite hundreds of miles above him. Even in the pouring rain the satellite image was 100% accurate, thanks to the extra addition of Kryptonian crystal technology absconded on board when no one was paying attention.

“No sign of the Squad yet, B. Want me to begin phase one?”

“Do it.”

Robin began to type furiously into the computer console. He was isolating signals across the city, no easy task, but thanks to his own technological leanings, and a computer upgrade courtesy of Vic Stone, the Bat-computer was up to the task. It was specific signal, and it would have to be high power, and also remote. The Suicide Squad was a covert black-ops team, and Dick surmised they wouldn’t be based in a densely populated area. They’d also need a quick and easy extraction, so Robin focused on the three airports leading in and out of the city. When that failed, he widened the search to any stretches of land that could serve as a landing strip, but then Tim Drake had a moment of inspiration. He started a secondary search, heat emissions in places where there shouldn’t be heat emissions. West Gotham Airfield. Abandoned in the 80s. A plan was prepped, weirdly enough, on the runway, and inside the terminal itself were a few emissions. Not enough to account for the entire Squad. Tim sparked up on the communications line again. “I think I have them. WGA.”

“Makes sense, R. You know what to do next.”

Tim continued with his work. He had two jobs. Locate the Squad and take down potentially the most dangerous member. The satellite shifted to heat sensitive again. And then Tim moved it over the city, and the heat was amazing. Even in the ruined city, even at night, the heat was so bright. He knew what he was looking for. Killer Frost was out there, and she absorbed heat to create ice. That was the layman’s version, anyway. So as he changed the readings, searching for the specific heat bend Killer Frost would create, he thought hard about what was going to happen next. Suicide Squad Vs Batman.

“Hot damn,” he whispered.

“How you doing, R?” Dick shivered, and wrapped his cape tighter around his body. The insulation helped, but still, rain.

“Got it, B!” Killer Frost was on the move, and as the satellite was able to isolate the number around her, Robin could see where the Squad were. “Thank you, terrifying ice lady, thank you a damn lot.”

“Sir, if I may say, language.” Alfred Pennyworth was watching over Robin’s shoulder. “And yes, thank you, Killer Frost.”

“Location? Within range?”

“Looks it, B.” Robin typed something else in. “They’re doing a wide search pattern, and pretty much following your usual patrol routes to a tee.”

Dick nodded. “I’ll have to alter them accordingly when this is all over. Something else to keep in mind.” He remained close to the floor, and fiddled with the second silver device that he’d attached to the damp concrete. Bruce Wayne had contacts all across the world, and this ‘gift’, as he called it, was inspired by the thesis by Kimiyo Hoshi, a scientist from Japan, and created in conjunction with Wayne Enterprises and the scientist’s observatory. He triggered it, and a blast of light shot up into the air.



The hell is that? Deadshot’s sniper rifle followed the light as it hit the clouds-- And floated back down. A signal flare? The white light splintered into dozens of different coloured shards, and rippled outwards, dissipating above the Hyde Civic Centre. His gun trailed down, and he saw Batman, standing tall, his cape flapping about in the rainy night sky. “Oh, you’re an idiot Batman. Shame it had to be this way, but Hell, you’re begging for it.” He aimed carefully, took into consideration the rain, the wind speed, and then pulled the trigger.





The bullet zipped right by Batman’s head, and slammed straight into the first silver device that Dick had carried to the top of the building. The abstract electro-magnetic orb that Dick had ‘borrowed’ from Wayne Research and Development snatched any high velocity bullets from the air and then attracted them to the reinforced promethium shielding that covered the generator.





“Why aren’t you dying, you stupid sonofabitch!?” Deadshot stood up from where he had been laying prone, and aimed once more, aiming straight for Batman’s forehead. He pulled the trigger, but his bullet flew wildly off course, and zipped against a silver sphere he hadn’t noticed before. “You cheated, $%^&!”

Floyd Lawton watched Batman smile, and then point to his eyes, and then at Deadshot. “No, you couldn’t possibly--” Batman slowly mouthed the words: ‘I see you’, and then vanished in a twirl of his cape, thunder cracking up above.



“Deadshot, damn.” Batman threw himself into the stairwell of the building, and caught his breath. He put his fingers to his ear, and then continued to speak. “You were right, R, sniper. Deadshot, damn.” It refused to sink in. “Our intel was off, Deadshot wasn’t a member of the team at last sighting.”

“If I may, B, we could come to the conclusion that ‘Deadshot’ has been brought in specifically for this mission. At least we know they are not taking it easy on you.”

“At least they care enough to bring in the big guns,” grunted Dick, as he continued down the stairwell. “Right, good call with informing me of the sniper’s position, R. If I was standing in the wrong place, that bullet could have still gone through me.”



“Do you see that?” Vixen pointed to the kaleidoscope of colours that erupted up in the sky. “What do you think?”

“I know it’s not fireworks,” mused Manhunter, as he held tightly to his bo-staff. “Let’s move on it. You know the drill, we move slow and steady, I don’t want us being seen by any of the soldiers on patrol. Knockout, you and Parademon are back-up, I don’t want you moving without my order, alright?”

“You’d deny my the pleasure of the hunt?” Knockout towered over Manhunter, the masked hero’s face squarely in front of her bosom. “You are lucky I respect you so, Mark Shaw, else that bo-staff you wield would not be in so comfortable a place.”

“Understood. June?” The Enchantress stepped forward, her eyes dark. “Oh. Enchantress. Right, you’re air support. You know what that means.”

“Yes, yes,” waved away Enchantress, before she floated up into the sky, and vanished from sight.

“That never gets comforting, mumbled Manhunter, before he continued. “The rest of you,” stated Shaw: “Think covert, people; think subtle.”

“Yeah, all things I’m fantastic at,” hissed Killer Frost.

“Oh, hell,” Resurrection Man, on point, put his hand up to stop the rest of the team proceeding. “You know where that blast came from? The Hyde centre. As in, charity ball.”

“He’s playing us,” growled Manhunter, looking at the other members of the team. “He knows we’re not going to go storming into the place guns blazing if there are civilians about.” He shook his head. “Damn, that’s a smart move.”

“He can’t stay there all night, Shaw,” barked up Electrocutioner. “So we could wait him out--”

“--Or draw him out.” Manhunter pointed at the Electrocutioner. “You’re going in.”

“Excuse me?!”

“We need you to make a splash. Malthus, take two of your automatons, you’re his back up.”

“I didn’t sign up for this, Shaw.” Stated Malthus calmly. “I’m not doing it.”

Manhunter grabbed Malthus by the collar and brought him up high, the mad scientist’s feet dangling off the floor frantically. “I will tear the arm off that robot of yours and feed it to you. The power saw attachment you brag about so often? It’ll be tickling your testes when I’m done with you.” He then shoved him against the wall . “Your life is in my hands. Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if no one cared if I dropped you off this building right now. Does anyone see what I’m doing to Malthus right now?” Shaw slapped the man across the face, and then looked to the other team members, who all turned away and looked preoccupied. “No. One. Cares[/i]. But if you do as I say, then I care, I don’t let you die. Do. You. Understand. Me?”

“Yes,” whimpered Malthus pathetically. “Fine.”

Shaw dropped him nonchalantly, and then brushed himself off. “Right. No one dies, people. You do a show and a dance.”

“The old pony show, damn right,” grinned Electrocutioner, as he flexed his gloves. “I was getting the itch, anyway.”

“Do it,” muttered Shaw, “you go and do it.”



The costume was thicker than his Nightwing costume. As he wore it underneath his tuxedo, he could feel his own sweat congealing beneath. As he approached Lucius Fox, took a glass of wine from a passing maitre-de, and stumbled, letting out a yelp, he couldn’t help but wince as the two materials rubbed against each other on impact with the floor. He stood up, and apologized profusely. “Sorry! Sorry, oh, God, typical, right, I’ve got to go find another tuxedo, I keep one somewhere, sorry! Sorry!”

Dick Grayson found himself frowning as he vanished from the Ball-room, realizing how numbing the ‘foppish playboy’ act truly was.

“Damn,” muttered Ted to Barbara, “that had to smart.”

“Part of the plan,” returned Barbara, as she looked around. “Ok, you know what to do.”

“Yeah, all sneaky and stuff, right.”

Barbara headed to her father, and whispered something in her ear. His eyes widened, and he nodded in understanding as she hurried out of the room. Ted Kord could see the Commissioner consciously patting his chest, checking if his piece was still in place. Seems like he never turned off. Ted was in the freight elevator before anyone noticed, and Barbara pressed the call button as soon as the doors closed. “Nice man.”

“Best dad,” she smiled back, before putting her fingers to her ear, where her mic was hidden. “A, we need access to the penthouse. You know which one.”

“On remote, miss.”

The elevator shuddered and rushed upwards, and then reached it’s destination. The two heroes stepped out, and turned left, and a wall rumbled open, revealing an array of weapons, some of which Ted recognized, some of which he didn’t. His costume was hung in front of some of his own creations, whilst Barbara’s was on the other side of the chamber. “Tonight is going to go down as one of my most painful adventures ever, isn’t it?”

“More than likely,” deadpanned Barbara, as she began to unzip her dress. “No peaking.”



“G-God,” Commissioner Gordon rubbed his shoulders, a sudden chill in the air freezing him in his tracks. He looked up to the air con, assuming it was some kind of malfunction, but it was still going. As soon as the cold front moved over the room, it was gone, and then that was when it got really weird. The hair on the back of James Gordon’s hand began to rise up. It tingled, not painfully, but noticeably. “Weird,” he murmured, before looking around and noticing that everyone was realizing the static charge in the air too, as well as recovering from the cold. The glass exploded inwards, shattering as a massive ball of electricity floated inwards, an ionized storm of energy causing the glass to float in mid air. “Sonofa--”

“This--” Grinned Electrocutioner, as he stepped forward, unbeknownst to the others inside, from an invisible ice slide created by Killer Frost, who had stolen a percentage of the civilians’ body heat to create it. “--Is a good old fashioned hold up. I need you all on your knees, or we see how painful it is for someone to under go defibrillation whilst conscious.” His hands crackled with electricity, and behind him, Doctor Malthus was flanked by his robot minions. “Is that understood?”

Electrocutioner, grunted Gordon, remembering his own confrontations with the man a few years back, “great.”

The villain strolled across the room, and smiled sinisterly as he found Mayor Krol. “Mr Krol! Your honour! My liege!” He grabbed the one-eyed major by the arm, and dragged him toward him. “This is what will happen. This man will be my hostage, and that means--”

“It means you let him go Electrocutioner,” snarled a distinct voice from behind the men and women gathered, “Malthus,” the Batman was standing in the doorway leading into the room, his cape flowing over him. His eyes were slits, staring daggers through the two villains, and his mouth was covered completely by an extension of his mask. “Get out of our city.” And then he pounced on the Electrocutioner, clearing Krol out of the way, electricity wracking over his insulated body armour as the villain screamed, and then within moments the two of them shot out of the building, grapnel in hand. The zipline took them across the void between the skyscrapers, and below on the street, Deadshot looked up, cursed his change of position, and continued toward the Hyde Civic Centre.

“Electrocutioner?” Tara Markov thought about the name for a moment, and Dick could see her thinking back to her times on the Suicide Squad, “I know his powers are gadget based, he’s not interalised like what’s-his-face, Static Shock?”

Dick nodded slowly. “I’ve faced Electrocutioner before. His armour is insulated, but--”

They collided with the empty Wayne Enterprises owned building opposite, glass showering the floor as they rolled to a stop inside. Dick leapt up, as did the Electrocutioner, both at each other’s throats in seconds. “How’s your brother, Paul? How is Josh?” The Electrocutioner’s eyes opened wide, shocked at the words leaving the Batman’s mouth. “Enjoying his coma?”

“You bastard!” The Electrocutioner’s hands shot forward recklessly, and Dick punched him in the face, even though his armour was blistering under the immense strain of the electrical bombardment. Dick took a batarang from his utility belt and slashed it against the villain’s chest, revealing pink flesh underneath. “Wh--?!”

Dick grinned devilishly, and smashed a vial of water against the hole. “Try me now, punk.” The Electrocutioner looked at his hands, realizing that one blast of his powers would shock himself, and the amount of electricity he was wanting to funnel into the Batman’s eyes would surely kill himself too. Before he had time to think on this any further, the Caped Crusader’s fist cracked against his jaw, sending him into the wall behind him, and the Dark Knight didn’t let up for one moment. The villain was a punching bag, blow after blow colliding with the Suicide Squader’s stomach, before, the villain staggering about, uneasy on his feet, Dick finished the job, a haymaker sending him through a wall and into another empty room behind them. The Batman span around, and fired a line back toward the Civic Centre.



“This was supposed to be painless,” hissed Malthus, his laser gun waving about recklessly. His robot creations surrounded him, and kept everyone at bay.

Gordon looked at the mad scientist, and shook his head. “You are under arrest.” He stepped forward, holding his badge high and his gun leveled straight at the man. “You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you in a court of law. You have the right to have an attorney present during questioning. If you cannot afford an attorney, one will be appointed for you.”

Malthus’ jaw dropped. “You don’t understand, I’m sup--”

“Doctor Malthus,” the voice was taunting, hollow, and the Batman swooped back inside the ball room, rolling up and pointing his finger at the mad scientist. “I’m sure you didn’t know I could do--” He mimicked shooting a robot with his finger, “--This.”

A robot fist slammed into Malthus’ head, and he crumpled to the floor. The other robots turned, and blocked the hole created by the two men’s entrances. The National Guard stormed up into the room, and leveled their weapons at the Dark Knight. “On your knees!”

“There are men and women out there who have only murder and mayhem on their mind,” replied Batman, his hands up passively, “You cannot stop them, but I can.”

“Stand down!” shouted Krol, as he rushed toward the caped crusader. “Go, Batman, do what you have to do.”

The Dark Knight nodded, and leapt out of the building, cape billowing outward in the wind. Gordon turned to Krol. “Your ratings could take a hit for this, sir.”

“Or they could go up. That doesn’t matter, what matter’s is,” Krol cleared his throat. “He saved me.”



“Donna told me how you lost control of your computer systems when that Malthus creep hacked you,” said Terra, slowly. “…He’s a slimy one, and I never worked side-by-side with him, only took the £%$^ down. He kept looking at me funny. Anyways, he’s an ego-maniac, thinks he’s God’s gift to science. Bull-£$%^, that. Anyone with half an idea of how to hack a computer could do exactly the same to him--”

“--If they had his broad wave signal.” Dick’s eyes flashed, and Terra smiled.

“You’re evil, Dicky-poo.”

“Thanks for that, R,” whispered Batman as he turned in mid air and zip-lined to the top of the building, “Very nice timing.”

“The hard part was getting into the robot’s inner workings. It’s easy enough to hack the security cameras, and B, that finger-gun move? Nice.”

“It’s all for the crowd’s tonight, R.”

“How’s the armour holding up?”

Batman hauled himself up to the top of the building, and found Manhunter standing there, Vixen and Resurrection Man flanking him. “Not good.”



“Bullock!” Deputy Commissioner Sarah Essen, currently running things whilst Commissioner Gordon himself was out rubbing shoulders with the kind of people he hated dealing with, stormed out of her office. “We’ve got a situation at the Hyde Civic Centre, some dress up is causing trouble, and the National Guard is already there--”

“Yeah, and?” mumbled Bullock, as he typed up a report lazily.

“So is the Batman.”

Bullock grabbed his coat and holster, throwing both on as they rushed for the garage. “Petite know?”

Sarah tied her long flowing hair in a pony-tail, and leapt into a squad car. “He’s en-route, and I’m sure as hell thinking that the National Guard ain’t gonna’ like that.”

“Tough £$%^, let’s get there before all hell breaks loose.” Bullock threw on the siren. “All cars, we’ve got a Code 13, major disaster activation, Code 77: Charlie. Alpha. Papa. Echo. Sierra.” He cleared his throat. He hated saying that. “We gotta’ CAPES at the Hyde Civic Centre. Commissioner Gordon is on-site, you know what to do.”



Where the Hell is Killer Frost, thought Dick as Manhunter dove into him, sending them both colliding with the stone chimney. Vixen was next, claws barred, slashing against the caped crusader’s chest, and an atomic blast of energy that tore a layer of Kevlar off of Batman’s chest was last. Killer Frost was who he was scared of (if he would admit that) especially after what Tara had told him.

“Mark, Shaw, I mean, Manhunter, you’ve seen him before, you’ve fought him. He’s tough, capable, but hell if he hasn’t got an imagination. He plays by the book mostly, and I haven’t seen him pushed against a wall, so I don’t really know who he is, because you can’t,” she searched for the words, “you can’t judge a man by the mask if he ain’t had everythin’ taken from him. £$%^, I’m ranting.”

“Don’t worry, I know what you mean. Creeps like the Joker and Scarecrow are at their most dangerous when they’re cornered. I just hope I don’t see Manhunter when he’s there.”

“Same, man, same,” replied Tara as she scratched her nose.

The punch sent him flying. Manhunter didn’t let up. It reminded Dick of mere minutes before, except now he was Electrocutioner and Manhunter was Batman. He was a punching bag. “You’re under arrest!”

Dick’s hand slapped on Shaw’s side pathetically, and then he collapsed to the floor. He tried to stand, but was punched to the concrete, slumping in a pile. It was like taking a punch from Mammoth. “Stay down!”

“You’re…”

Manhunter brought up his fist. One more punch, he thought, take him down, drag him back to Belle Reve, and then what? Would they put him on trial? Or give him an explosive ultimatum, work Taskforce X duty or rot away in a cell?

“…Y-You’re…”

“What? What have you got to say? I gave you a way out! I gave you a way to end this peacefully! You had to be proud, didn’t you? Had to fight to the end!” He shook his head, his hand still poised to strike. “Dammit, I hate this. You’re Batman. I respect you, and to be hunted like a dog just because of that bastard the Joker’s actions? This isn’t the life we want for ourselves--”

“…Y-You’re…”

“What?!”

“You’re going down.” He held a small trigger in his hand, and pointed to Manhunter’s side, who glanced down to see a circular piece of metal stuck there with a small bat-insignia scoured into the side. Dick triggered the device, and a concussive blast of explosive sent him flying up into the air, and out of sight.



Bullock and Essen pulled up to the building, and suddenly something collided with their bonnet, setting off their airbags and causing Harvey to swear profusely. “Sonofa-- What the-- Helling-- £$%^!”

“Calm down, Harv,” Essen pulled her weapon and climbed out, aiming her gun at the bonnet, wear Mark Shaw twitched. “Jesus!” The masked Manhunter pulled himself up, groaning, much to the surprise of the two officers. “You! Stay where you are!”

He looked at them lazily, and then swayed to the side, before collapsing once more.

“It’s raining supermen. $%^&!”

“He doesn’t look so super to me right now, Harv…”



“You don’t want to fight Vixen. I mean seriously, she’s up there with Knockout and that Parademon thing. She’s an engine of £$%^ing destruction--”

“Tara…”

Terra frowned. “Fine.” She sat up consciously, and began to speak in a posh English accent. “She’s a bloody well engine of destruction, chin-chin.” She slouched back down. “You want to take her out fast. She’s as fast as a cheetah, as strong as a rhino, all that stuff, she can tear you apart. Avoid her if you can, Dick.”

“Yeah, Tara, because that’s going to happen.”

“Point.”

“MARK!” Vixen reached out for her falling teammate, but was pinched in the neck and then grabbed by the shoulder. She span around, cheetah coming to the forefront, channeled through her amulet, but the hand didn’t stay on her shoulder for long. Batwoman pulled her face forward, and kneed her in the chest, causing the yellow-costumed woman to cough. “--Ghhhuuuh.”

Batwoman crouched down. “The reason your limbs feel so heavy? It’s because I don’t have time to mess around. There are 32 pressure points in the human body, and I found the one that’ll take you down painlessly. And on your shoulder? Heavy duty sedative. You’re dangerous, Vixen, and I don’t have time to be thrown around by you.”

“Ma…” Vixen nearly fell forward, but Batwoman caught her. “Mark….”

“He’s safe,” whispered Barbara. With that Vixen passed out, and Batwoman picked her up, threw her over her shoulder, and fired a zip-line across the city, to where Electrocutioner was tied up. This was Dick’s play, and he knew that above all he had to keep everyone safe.

“Batman, you killed--” The Resurrection Man’s hands crackled with atomic energy.

“Mitch? He’s nice and all, but something is definitely up. He’s currently mainlining Captain… Atom was it? Yeah, Captain Atom’s powers, and I don’t think anyone knows why. Thing is, I noticed that when he’s using his powers, they seem kind of unfocused. I don’t know what could help you, but if he was really channeling Atom’s powers, I heard you’d be a scorch mark right now.”

“I always wondered what was going on with him. Yeah, he’ll be a tough nut to crack, but if we can use the fact that he’s not really, you know, bad against him, then that… Hmm…”

“He’s not dead,” replied Batman, his hand up whilst he pulled himself up to from the ground. “Enhanced healing, enhanced,” he rubbed his jaw, “strength. Speed. He’ll be fine.”

“You can’t know that--”

“I do know that, you know why?” Batman cracked his neck, and Mitch Shelley watched him closely.

“…Why?”

“I’m Batman.” He stormed forward, and Shelley threw his hand up, atomic energy swarming forward, but Dick rolled to the side in mid air, spinning forward, and as he landed on the floor, he launched himself forward, and Blue Beetle emerged from the shadows, BB Gun in hand, aimed squarely at Shelley’s head.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Don’t move. Don’t think.” Beetle looked over to Batman. “How you holding up, Bats?”

“I’m fine. Keep your eye on him.”

Ted Kord kept the weapon leveled at Shelley’s head. “I know you can fly. I know you can fire blasts of nuclear fueled energy from your hands. Don’t move, don’t speak, and we’ll be fine.” Beetle sneered at Shelley, who looked at him in confusion. “Don’t. Speak.”

Commissioner Gordon, flanked by SWAT and the National Guard, swarmed on to the roof, and Batman threw up his hands. “This man is a living nuclear reactor, stay back!”

Gordon nodded. “You heard the man, everyone back--”

“He doesn’t hold any jurisdiction over me like he does you and your pussy cops, Gordon--” Colonel Lewis Taff charged forward, and then went down on one knee, aiming his rifle at Batman. “I want everyone on the floor. That means you too, Blue-Jeans.”

“Really?” Blue Beetle sighed. “Blue-Jeans?” His spare hand, obscured by his side, pointed a small pencil like device at the National Guardsman. “We’re serious guys, this guy’s emitting radiation at a dangerous rate, we’re inoculated but--”

Resurrection Man stared down the weapon that Beetle was holding to his face. “I am not emitting radiation! You’re ins--”

Kord shook his head, and then pressed down on the device, no one but Batman noticing, and Taff began to shake uncontrollably, and then vomited all over his weapon. “You need to go! Get out of here, we’ll hold him off!”

Gordon looked over to Batman, who nodded; “Alright everyone, go, let’s get out of here. Secure a perimeter around the building!”

When the roof was empty once more, Shelley looked over to Batman, who simply smiled. “The hell are you trying to pull?”

“You’re the bad guys, Shelley, no two ways about it. And what’s scarier than a guy dressed in blue and red armour? A guy that’s leaking radiation.” Batman surveyed the rooftops. “And Beetle’s got a friend who’s good with frequencies, and projectile vomiting? Easy enough to pull.”

Blue Beetle chuckled. “Thanks for going along with it.”

“You’re insane!”

“No, you’re naïve. I’m the hero. And my gun? Non-lethal.” He pulled the trigger, and Shelley collapsed in a haze of blue crackling energy. “Honestly…”

“This isn’t going as well as I expected.”

“Why not? We just took down Vixen, Manhunter, Resurrection Man. You had that Malthus douche, and Electrocutioner is down for the count as well.”

“They aren’t the only members of the Suicide Squad.”

Beetle gulped down on the lump in his throat. “Oh. Crap.”



“Shaw? Shaw, can you hear me?” Amanda Waller was tense. She couldn’t get through to Mark Shaw, Manhunter, and he was the field leader. What was going on? All she could get in Gotham was static, what was going on? She’d been trying for nearly twenty minutes now, shouting at all the members of the team, trying to get them to tell her what was going on, but she got nothing. “Dammit, I didn’t make you field leader of Taskforce X just so you could slouch, Shaw, where the hell are you? SHAW?”



Tim Drake grinned. He’d isolated Malthus’ remote control signal for his robots, and Batwoman had uploaded the signal from Vixen’s communication device directly to his computer. With that, he could cut off the Squad from their bosses up-on-high, among other things. “I’ve lost Killer Frost, B. The satellite’s moved, and we won’t have access to another for another 30 mins. I’m scanning the CCTV across the city, but she’s nowhere visible.”

“Thanks. And the others?”

“Enchantress, Knockout and the Parademon are off the grid too. Watch your back.”

“Always do,” replied Batman, as he watched Blue Beetle swing to the building opposite the Civic Centre, and then, suddenly and without warning, all the glass in the building shattered as he was thrown off the roof by an unseen force, a shard of glass lodging itself in his arm. “…Dammit--!”

Enchantress floated down from the sky. “Word in your ear, Bat-corpse?”

“June Moone? Enchantress? I have no idea anymore. It got blurry with her sometimes, and I don’t think that she even knows what’s going on. She’s close to Resurrection Man, so you might want to look out for the both of them. Look, Killer Frost, she’s a cold hard bitch, excuse the awful pun, but Enchantress is powerful. Maybe even more powerful than Raven even ,you k now? And that’s not even the worst bit of it: Frost is psycho in a creepy way; Enchantress is psycho in a smart way." If anyone is going to take you down, Dick, it’ll be her. You need to make sure she doesn’t work her mojo and turn you into a rodent or something. Hit her hard an’ £$%^ing fast.”

Dick let Tara have that one. He’d faced all sorts, magicians, warlocks, God-Kings, demon lords, and they always scared him more than he would ever admit. Enchantress would be a problem, and he’d need to sort her out hard and fast. Or he’d die.

Batman threw a zip-line around the spire at the top of the building, and swung around, landing on the roof. “Not dead yet.”

“That’s what they all say.” Her hand moved elegantly in the air, a spell weaving before Dick’s very eyes. His grapnel moved swiftly, and his aim was true--

--A line shot out of the end of the small canon, and whipped around the witch’s ankle. “What?! No!” He tugged hard, and she hurtled toward him. She landed hard, and Batman sprayed her with a small aerosol immediately, as she began to fade out.

“Knockout gas. Word in your ear, Enchantress?” He leant forward and whispered: “You couldn’t beat me on your best day.”

“Mmmmm--” She passed out completely, and Dick took the small communication device from her ear, and began to talk.

“Amanda Waller, I presume--”

B-DAM! B-DAM! B-DAM!

He stumbled forwards, his back exploding in pain. He spun around, and Deadshot smiled, his wrist-mounted weapons smoking.

B-DAMN! B-DAM! B-DAM!

Dick grimaced in pain, his body armour exploding outwards in chunks as magnum loads lodged into his Kevlar. Smoke and body armour fluttered into the air, and Dick could barely stand. Deadshot continued to fire, round after round colliding with his body armour, and Dick staggered backwards, the damp stickiness of his own blood caking his shoulder, and the feel that one or two of those bullets had penetrated his armour.

“I never miss.” Deadshot continued to fire, until Dick growled in pain and fell to the floor, his legs refusing to work. “I’ve been watching this whole mess, Batman, and I have to say, I’m impressed. I’ll have to remember all that happened here, just in case Waller intends to take me down again.” He laughed, and continued to fire into Dick’s back, causing him to stay flat against the floor. “And you’re not the only one with knowledge of pressure points. Each bullet I just sent into your body armour would cause enough impact to cause a bit of damage.” He crouched down, and pushed Dick over, who threw up his hand and sprayed the aerosol in Deadshot’s face. The assassin shook his head. “Oh, that’s pathetic.” He pushed it out of the Caped Crusader’s hand, and then stood. “So yeah, that numbness in your extremities? That’ll pass. But not soon enough.”

“Guh,” stuttered Batman. “God.”

“…Goodbye, Batman.” Deadshot’s wrist mounted gun cocked almost silently. Batman was gasping for breath, the symbol on his chest wrecked beyond all recognition, his arm bleeding from the large shard of glass he took in it a few minutes earlier. Floyd Lawton’s foot was pressed down hard on Dick Grayson’s neck, and he took great pleasure in pushing down with as much weight as he dared to without compromising his balance. “Goodnight.”

“Duh, don’t I get… a last… word… words…”

“Deadshot smiled beneath his mask. “Make it quick, cliché.”

“You... aren’t… the only… sniper… in Gotham… tonight.”

Deadshot’s eyes opened wide. “What?!”

Batman’s leg flew up straight in between Deadshot’s own, and Deadshot cringed as he bent forward abruptly. Batman’s hand shot up, and grabbed him around the throat.

“Psych.”

He swung his other fist into the assassin’s mask, and it cracked open on impact, and sent Lawton toppling toward the floor.

Dick’s body armour was reinforced. Layer upon layer of Kevlar reinforced weave, and a shock absorbent body cocoon delivered by Lucius Fox’s R n’ D department months back. It hurt like hell, but it had saved Dick from the brutal intended effects of Lawton’s attack. He pulled himself up, and began to disarm the assassin, before staggering across the rooftop and then proceeding to pick up the communication device again. He looked back at Lawton, breathed in deeply whilst the moment afforded him breathing. Seconds later he had hooked up his own cowl systems to the device, and placed his fingers to his ear: “Amanda Waller.”

“Who am I talking to?” returned the voice brusquely.

“I think you know.”

“Batman,” growled Waller in return. “Aren’t you supposed to be under arrest.”

“Apparently,” said Batman, a smile on his lips. “But I don’t see anyone around to follow through on that threat. Your team seems to be sleeping on the job.”

“My ‘team’? I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Waller leant back in her chair back in Belle Reve, and smiled. “You must have me confused with someone else.”

“Interesting play, Waller.” Dick pressed a button on his utility belt, and another voice joined the conversation: “‘…it, I didn’t make you field leader of Taskforce X just so you could slouch, Shaw…’ Sound familiar?”

Amanda Waller went pale. “Recordings can be faked. Evidence can be planted.”

“Yes, but the fact of the matter is, a covert black ops team comprising of mainly super villains operated in the open tonight in Gotham City. Witnesses saw your men attack a Charity Ball. I know what I saw, Waller, and those men and women downstairs know too. A lot of light could shine your way if you wanted to continue in the direction you’re going.”

Waller was silent. She still had an ace in her pocket. Two of them, Knockout and the Parademon, migrants from Apokolips. Her hand wandered over to the activation button, when another voice joined the conversation, just as her own had moments ago.

“The warrant has been withdrawn.” Sarge Steel held a mic to his mouth as he stepped into The Wall’s quarters. “Taskforce X will leave Gotham City tonight. Keep in mind Batman, if you try and take us down, we’ll take you down. It wouldn’t be hard for things to get downright dangerous for you in Gotham City, the way things are right now.”

“And you’ll be leaving me and mine. Understood, Sarge Steel.”

Steel’s eyes perked up. “You know me?”

“I’d recognize that voice anywhere. I’ll be watching you.” Batman cut the line, and then collapsed on the roof. “I did it.”

A line dropped from the clouds above, and Batman grabbed hold of it tight. Blue Beetle’s voice filled his cowl speakers, and Dick could tell that they’d won this one. “Hold on tight, Bats, we’re headed home.”



Commissioner Gordon sat in his office, filing the report on what occurred last night. Batman was no longer hated. Not to the extent he was mere days before. He couldn’t help but feel that he’d been played completely. He intended to do some research on the men and women he’d seen Batman fighting, but for now, he’d let it lie.

“They’re singing your praises,” he whispered quietly.

“That doesn’t matter.” Batman loomed in the shadows of the office, but Gordon could almost hear the smile on his lips. “It’s been a long few days.”

“You’re not wrong.”

“Maybe now the city will be quiet. I heard the National Guard are moving out.”

“Krol’s call. He said Gotham was back. In more ways than one, I’m assuming.”

“…How about you, Commissioner?”

“How about me what?” There was a long silence, and Gordon turned to the shadows, and saw that Batman had vanished. He shook his head. “Are we back? …I’m not sure.” He picked up his coat and turned off the desk light. “… I’m not sure at all.”



“Get off me,” Floyd Lawton pushed a prison transfer guard off of his arm, and lent on a wall. “I’m not going back to Belle Reve, this was a bit of work on the side.” He looked over to Mark Shaw, who was being patched up a medic before they boarded the plane. “Tell the Wall she knows where to find me.”

“You know you’re not allowed to go after the Batman, right?”

Floyd slung his duffel bag over his shoulder, and flicked open his Zippo, lighting the cigarette perched between his lips. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Maybe some other time. Knew this assignment was nothing but trouble.” He headed toward the terminal, leaving the rest of the Suicide Squad, along with their support crew, near the airplane itself.

“Batman played us completely,” grunted Manhunter, as he looked over to Vixen, who was only just coming round. “I was sitting in a cell in Gotham Central for two hours thanks to him.” He shook his head. “He played the game just like we should have. Fast and dirty.”

“Yeah, well, at least he didn’t make you out to be some kind of walking toxic waste heap,” mumbled Resurrection Man underneath his breath. “I’m quite happy there’s not going to be a next time with him, but that Blue Beetle…”

“Don’t even think about it,” replied Manhunter. “We’re not allowed to go after any of Batman’s allies. That was the agreement met. He can’t blow our cover, we can’t take him in. I can live with that.” He stretched to his side a bit, reaching over his head, freeing up the knot in his side. “Hrr. Where’s Killer Frost?”

The team looked around. “Yeah, where the hell is she?!”

Manhunter looked over to the Gotham City skyline, all gothic architecture and streaking purple skies. “Oh, God.”

Not the End!