#6: The Underground Pt. 6: "Damages"

Hub City:

The lights went out. Deathstroke, the Terminator could hear the static sting of a scrambling device, and went low on instinct. The attack didn't come. He slowly drew his blade from its sheath, and he rose up, moving through the darkness of the landing bay that was situated inside the Society's Hub City base of operations. "Very well played." He focused his abilities to their outer limits, and smiled as he felt the hairs on the back of his neck prickle up. "I sincerely didn't see this coming."

"That was the idea, Wilson--!" The Guardian, clad in the blue and yellow of his uniform, emerged from the shadows, shield in hand, and threw a punch that should have sent Deathstroke flying, but was dodged.

Jim Harper vanished again into the darkness, and Slade again focused his being. "We've been tracking you criminals down for a long time." Wilson couldn't tell where Harper's voice was coming from, and suddenly found himself against the wall of the bay. His gloved fingers moved slowly against the surface. "And you're going down, I can promise you that."

"Don't make promises you can't keep, old man," replied Deathstroke, as he pulled off his mask, relishing the cool air on his face. "It's embarrassing."

[/i]
Part Six (of Six): “Damages”
Written by House Of Mystery
Cover by Ramon Villalobos
Edited by Alex Vasquez[/center]



<It is time.> The words echoed through the complex, the heavy metal walls causing the vibrations to be sent up and through every room. <Prepare the data procured from STAR Labs. Synch coordinates with the Boom Tube. It. Is. Time.>

Catman pulled himself off the bunk, clutching his ribs. "Time for what?"

The Voice replied slowly. <It is now no longer your concern, Thomas.>

"It is my concern. The last gig you sent us all out on? We nearly got taken down by the League. You were supposed to plan these things! We're supposed to be unstoppable! They were never supposed to be a £$%^ing factor!"

"Blake." A heavy hand found Catman's shoulder, and Blake turned to see John Corben staring down at him. "Don't shout."

"What the £$%^ are--" Catman was pushed down onto the bunk, one hand around his throat, the other palm open and slowly clicking open as Metallo activated his internal weapon systems. "What the £$%^ are you doing, Corben?"

"You got £$%^ on, Blake," Corben said slowly. "You're hurting. You aren't up for this. Take your medicine, get up to scratch, and then come shouting for a fight. Until then--" Corben moved his head close to Blake's. "--Don't be an idiot."

"I'll kill you," growled Blake, struggling under the cyborg's grip. “Now or later, you’ll die.”

Corben released his grip, and then turned away from Catman. "Too late, Blake. I'm already dead."

Catman held his neck, his costume creased where Corben's hand had held him tight. "Really? 'Cause you ain't dead enough for me. Not yet, anyways."

<Ignore him, John. He's not the one I need right now.> The Voice spoke directly into John's head, and Metallo didn't mind one bit. <I need you, John. Throughout it all, I've needed you.> In fact, he was starting to care less and less about things as the minutes passed...

[/b]

"Deep cover." Steve Trevor, White King of Checkmate was speaking, and as such, when he speaks, people listened. He was addressing Hawkman, The Question, Adam Strange, Green Arrow, Stripe and Blue Beetle. He was flanked by his Knight, Paul Kirk, aka Manhunter, and they were in a mobile Checkmate spider-hole. "Jim Harper has been under deep cover for months now. We created an identity for him to put Deathstroke off guard, the 'Ravager' persona was keyed to create certain reactions in Slade Wilson. And with help of Metropolis' Special Crimes Unit, We staged The Guardian's death using a stand in, and set up 'Ravager' with the Rogue credentials required to go up and up in the underground."

Adam Strange nodded slowly. "I can corroborate that. Some of the technology used for the Ravager armour is a cargo cult version of the Rann hard-light weaponry. Part of an agreement made between the United Nations and Rann itself."

"Yeah? And how come I haven't seen people flying around in jet-packs across the world then, Adam?" said Green Arrow, as he shook his head. "I can only guess where the schematics for your tech have ended up." He shrugged. "I'm leaving, got places to be. Good luck with your operation, but I don't see any reason for us to stick around. Pat?" Pat Dugan smiled at the other heroes, and nodded at Steve Trevor, before he and Green Arrow left the base.

"What's this all about then?" asked Blue Beetle, as he looked to the others.

The Question took off his hat. "My turn for exposition. We knew of the Society. There have been groups-- organizations-- of this type in one form or another since before even the Justice League/America debacle a while back, but it was Lex Luthor and his kin that invaded the Hall of Justice, and were running circles around the League during that event. Soon after that I picked up word and whispers of Injustice, Unlimited.. Thanks to these two organisations, the smaller Rogue groups vanished, relatively, these organizations absorbing them. The only large super-villain groups active now are this... 'Society'... and Injustice, Unlimited. But we’re not talking about IJ. They aren’t all bad, and we know they’ve assisted the League out on occasion. We’re talking abut the Society…” The Question paused, and cleared his throat. Blue Beetle could tell this was difficult for him, but the faceless-vigilante continued none the less. “They were operating out of Hub City, they were causing trouble, and I asked Wonder Woman for help in taking them down. She got in touch with the White king over there--" he motioned to Steve Trevor, "--and informed me of an ongoing investigation that Checkmate was undertaking. I was reluctant at first to share information, but it was a necessary evil."

"Yes, Question. We're all aware of your feelings toward the American government," scoffed Manhunter. "I thought you would have grown out of that by now."

"Not the American government, Manhunter," snapped Question. "All governments. Anyway, with Hub City being their base of operations, I had to get help. With the League restructuring after the Black Sun incident, I didn't think a shock-and-awe operation was needed."

"I think what The Question is trying to say is," said Steve Trevor, "Checkmate provided the finesse required to shut these guys down."

"Harper informed me of his progress in the air above STAR Labs,” Adam Strange said, after he cleared his throat. “That's why we were out of the fight; Harper's armour was dumping a load of information into my own armour. I contacted Hawkman through his helm communication systems, and he took the fall necessary to let the Society get out, and for Harper to keep his cover."

"And this was all in an effort to track down The Society's home base?" asked Blue Beetle.

Steve Trevor nodded. "Yes, well, we know they're somewhere in Hub City, but that place is a labyrinth of secret underground sewer passages and the like. With Harper's help, we were going to open up a direct link with said base and our forces, and take it by force."

Ted Kord nodded slowly. "So why are we still here?"

"Warp doesn't show up on the satellites," said The Question, "and wherever they've gone is so heavily shielded that need Harper to activate his emergency beacon. If he hasn't..."

"... Then it means we lost a good soldier," finished Steve Trevor, shaking his head. "But I have faith in Jim. He’s been at this war for longer than any of us, and if anyone can get out of a tight spot, it's him."

Hub City:

The Guardian and Deathstroke were testing each other. Blow after blow was thrown, shield clashed against sword and vice-versa. But whilst no quarter was given, there was no clear winner so far. It was a dance for them, a test, and as such, they did so with smiles on their faces.

Harper paused for a moment, stopped his attack, and instead went back to circling his opponent. "You're good, kid."

Deathstroke smiled. "S'been a long time since I was called kid, Guardian. Can't say I like it."

"Then I apologize. Not right to insult your opponent, I don't think. Never liked that kind of banter. I figure, I'm going to put you in the ground, you don't need to go down hearing me insult your mother."

"Yeah, if you brought my mother into it, I'd stop this game and go for your throat. You wouldn't be able to stop me."

"You really think that, don't you?" Harper smiled. "Confident."

"I'm not built to be a coward, Guardian. They don't call me kinda-Deathstroke, the kinda-Terminator, do they? I wasn't built to lose."

The Guardian smiled. "But you weren't built, were you, Wilson? You were doped into existence, with adrenal gland stimulants that have played havoc with your system."

Wilson shrugged, and then leveled his sword at Harper. "So you read my file? Is that it?" he took a cigarette from his belt and placed it in his mouth. "'Scuse me." He then lit a match, and put it to the cigarette. "Mm. Am I right? Are you a fan, Guardian?"

"Not a fan. But I have followed your career, with acute interest."

Deathstroke smiled, the cigarette clinging to his lips tightly. "Alright, you've piqued my curiosity: Why?"

"Because I was the first, Slade. And you were the second."



<It started when Kanjar Ro brought Thanagar to its knees with his so-called 'Gamma Gong'. I would like you to understand why I am doing this. What it is I-- we-- seek to accomplish.>

"Continue then, please," said John Corben, as Lex Luthor-- still under the complete control of the Voice-- fitted the metal man with another suit of protective armour, ready for the journey ahead of him.

<Thank you, the Gamma Gong is constructed from Nth metal. It was brought back to Earth by the Justice League, to ensure that it was kept away from any so-called 'villain' that might want to use it for his or hers own ends. But bringing it here bridged the worlds of Thanagar and Earth.>

Lex Luthor turned away from John Corben, and then went toward a mess of wires and cables, all strung up to the Boom Tube machine that the Society stole from Injustice, Unlimited. He began to type, to input data, and the machine began throbbing to life.

<The Boom Tube is needed to bring me back. I had the Justice League in the palm of my hand. I would have destroyed them. They won by luck, and luck alone, and now, John, I have an army to command. When I come to Earth, not even Deathstroke or any others will be able to resist my psychic presence. If I am able to speak to the 'villains' of the world due to the presence of the Gamma Gong, then imagine what it would be like to witness my immensity... in the flesh?>

"The Boom Tube is ready for activation, sir," said John Corben.

<The Boom Tube matrix was broken though. Leaking data. When we retrieved it, it was obvious that we would need more than just what remained inside its dying circuits to complete the journey. I sent Parasite to absorb information from Senator Callahan, because he had access to STAR Labs' top-secret locations. We knew that they were working with the Justice League to map the universe, and so, with their help, we had a straight line from here to Thanagar. I must remember to thank that Hawk-Knight for his assistance.>



<Go forth, John. You know what to do.> And with that, Metallo stepped through the open Boom Tube, and travelled across the universe--

Hub City:

"What are you trying to say?" Deathstroke no longer cared about the dance. He leaped at The Guardian, and drove his sword down, but Harper deflected the blow with his shield, and pushed the Terminator back across the room.

"America's super-soldier program. Don't tell me you didn't hear the urban legends from the Second World War. The Germans tried to pour the occult into their greatest soldiers. The Russians attempted to use black-science to make theirs, and the Japanese attempted to harness honest, handmade technologies to create theirs. They were all failures though, in their own ways. They couldn't harness the processes to mass-make an army of super-powered soldiers."

"Every soldier working special-operations has heard the stories. But I was just a guinea pig, I wasn't part of any--"

The Guardian interrupted, kicked Deathstroke in the face and sent him sprawling. "Eye open, soldier. You're better than that." Harper went to press his advantage, but Wilson pushed back, and his sword dug deep into Guardian's body armour. "Hh. Good. But Wilson, you think they'd tell you if you were part of a top secret program to build better war machines?"

"I can see where you're coming from," said Wilson, slashing and cutting, sparks flying as his blade connected with the shield, "but frankly, I don't care."

"I know you wouldn't. But we're different. You were made with drugs. Typical modern day approach. Sure, I had all kinds of chemicals pumped into my veins. I was a cop before all this-- a beat cop that had his own streets to patrol, but when my government came calling, I dove head first into whatever they needed me to do. And so they made me better. Artificial hormones were poured into me. Highly durable, way-before-it's-time plastics were inserted beneath my skin. I don't know how they did it back then, and how they completed the process-- or I survived-- but I've been walking around ever since with the ability to do one thing--"

"And what would that be?" asked Deathstroke.

"Kick bastards' asses."

The Guardian punched Deathstroke in the face. Wilson grabbed the fist without blinking, even as it became covered in his own blood. "My ass hasn't been kicked yet." Deathstroke drove his blade through The Guardians' hand, and then grinned. "You strike me as the honest sort, Harper. So I'm going to believe you. But the thing is, you ain't ever fought anyone like me before. You think you're unkillable? If I can die, so can you--"

"Our healing abilities? I think we both know we can come back from anything. Last Checkmate heard from you, you were shot point blank out of a plane-- in air. You fell hard, Deathstroke, and I still think you're running on fumes."

"You'd be wrong." Deathstroke brought his sword forward, slicing through the Guardian's hand, and causing him to scream. "You’re old. You’re an old man and an old model, and I'm better in so many ways. You should retire. I should cut your head off, and see if you can come back from that."

"Try me, boy." The Guardian held his injured hand against his chest, and barreled straight into Deathstroke's chest, shield first. Wilson's sword clattered out of his hand, and Harper kicked him hard in the ribs, sending a shard of bone against Slade's lung. "Because you're right, I am old. I've been doing this for nearly a century, and I'll keep doing it until punks like you are locked up or six feet under."

"Ahh, haaaa," wheezed Wilson, as he kicked up into Harper's chest, and catching the gash in the Guardian's hand. "We... seem to be... at a bit of an impasse."

The Guardian grunted, and shook his head. "No we don't, Wilson. Surrender… Or I take you down."

"I’m too proud for that. I knew this assignment would get me hurt. You're right, by the way. I’m still hurting from that beating Deadshot gave me. And you know what? It gave me a whole new outlook on life. Lying on a beach, fishing bullets out of your stomach with a blunt knife and no anesthetic just so you can heal-- well aware that sea water keeps lapping into your wounds-- that's the kind of thing that puts this £$%^ into perspective."

"Surrender."

"No. Die." Deathstroke took a small device from his belt and pressed it. The entire complex began to shake. "Now, I did you a favour. I jammed all outgoing signals barring this one. I wanted to hurt you ever since you swaggered into our lives, 'Ravager'. I'm not going to take down scores of good men just for petty revenge. I've just unjammed the signals, and now your bosses have your location. The problem is, unjamming signals activates the self destruct that's been running in the background during this little dance we've had. So you need to run."

"You'll die as well--!" snapped Harper.

"No, I won't, because I've got a teleporter on my side."

"Ah, dat would be my cue, oui?" Warp popped his head out of a portal, and the Guardian snarled, even as Deathstroke was pulled through, and reality popped as the hole closed.

"Dammit," said Harper, looking around. He activated his communication systems, and Steve Trevor's voice suddenly came alive in his ear.

"What’s going on, Harper? What’s the good word?"

"The whole place is falling down on top of me, White King, I need instant evac. Do you have my location?"

"We're sending our man in!" replied Trevor.

As if on cue, a teenage boy, clad in red and blue and grinning from ear to ear popped into existence beside the Guardian, and gave him a thumbs up even as Harper shook his head. "Split, they really pushed the boat out didn't they?"

"Don't you know it, boss-man! Let's get you out of here--!"

A Secret Location:

Warp and Deathstroke appeared in the new base of operations of the Society, and Wilson didn't waste a moment. "Where is he?"

Catman limped toward the Terminator, and pointed down the hallway. "Corben was acting weird; The Voice is moving toward his big end game, whatever that is. I don't know what, but I know where they went."

"Lead away, Blake. Where's Toyman? Where's Disaster?"

"Disaster is being seen by the Crime Doctor. He got beaten to £$%^. Toyman is already rebuilding himself. One of his arms just up and went at himself, picking together the bits and pieces to sort out the problem." The two of them were now hurrying down the winding metal corridors, leaving Warp to his own devices, muttering to himself in French. "What's going on?"

Deathstroke continued following Catman for a while, before saying anything. "I lied about this whole thing, Blake,” Wilson said, finally. “Being here wasn’t for the ‘secret society’. It wasn’t for the money The Voice was paying, and you should know that I don't care about the camaraderie or any of the bull£$%^ he was spewing. I'm on a different assignment entirely."

Catman didn't blink; instead, he continued leading Deathstroke, until they reached a huge pair of metal doors. "Here." He turned. "Why are you telling me?"

"Why not? Trust has to start somewhere. Through here?" Deathstroke grunted, and felt the solid steel doors. "We’re not getting through here."

"Maybe I could help?" Toyman staggered into view, swaying from side to side. "Sorry about my somewhat embarrassing movements, but my equilibrium is shot. Such a shame, I had developed such a wonderful way of walk about me..." The robot's chest cavity folded out, and an explosion of glittere shot out against the door, before settling to the floor. There was a long silence.

"Misfire?" offered Deathstroke.

"Nano-dust. It's currently working its way through the lock mechanism, until, until, until--!"

The doors shrieked open. Catman drew his knives, and Toyman collapsed to the ground, the effort too much for his damaged body. Deathstroke looked to the fallen robot, and then drew his sword. "Good soldier."

Catman and Deathstroke entered the massive laboratory, and Slade Wilson immediately saw Lex Luthor, emaciated, pale and gaunt, standing in front of the open Boom Tube. "That's Lex Luthor--!"

"I know, Blake. He's why I'm here." Deathstroke approached Luthor, and then looked back to Catman. "He hired me the first time he ever heard of me and my reputation. We set up a system. If he fails to contact me after a set period of time, I have to come find him. It was in case Superman got a bit too gung-ho, or another one of his peers got a bit jealous and tried to wipe him off the map. He paid me an extra ten million for a revenge clause. I kill whoever crossed him."

"You're serious."

"This is a serious business. He didn't make the call. I came looking. Trail lead me to the Society, and I insinuated myself into The Voice's upper echelons. I figured out The Voice's deal pretty quickly-- he's a psychic. You operate on a different level of thinking, so do I, so did Ravager. Toyman's a robot. That's why we had laptops brought to us by Mr. Blink, whenever The Voice needed to communicate. The others? They had psychic projections or voices spoken directly into their minds."

"Jesus..." Catman shook his head, and then looked at the open Boom Tube. "What's that?"

"I'm guessing that whoever's on the other side of that Boom Tube is the bastard that set us all up for this fall." Deathstroke was rummaging through his pouches, and finally took a device that folded out into a wire-strewn crown. "Luthor gave this to me. Just... in... case." Wilson placed the crown over Luthor's head, and then stepped back. "Now, according to what he told me, this'll either free of him any brainwashing, or fry his mind. He didn't want anyone else using it for their own ends."

Luthor blinked slowly. He blinked twice more after that. "Hhff." He fell to his knees, and clutched his head as the crown sang an ultrasonic tune into the world. Catman growled, his ears piqued to attention, and Deathstroke just watched. "Tthh..." Luthor looked around. "Thh..." Deathstroke's eyes met Luthor's. "Thank you, Slade."

Slade smiled, and put out his hand. "My pleasure, Mr. Luthor. You know my fee."

Lex Luthor pulled himself up with the help of Deathstroke, and then looked to the Boom Tube projector. "Oh, no."

"What is it?"

"Metallo could already be there. The science of the New Gods is one I have yet to take time to master. But if I'm not too late--" Luthor was a wonder to watch at work. He took pieces of machinery from throughout the lab, and then constructed a device that neither Wilson nor Blake knew the purpose of. "He held me in mental thrall. You don't seem to understand the immensity of the threat that this thing poses--"

"Who is it, Luthor?" asked Deathstroke, urgently. "Who is The Voice?"



John Corben blasted through the rich Nth metal ore that he had landed on top of. The metal screamed under the kryptonite induced punishment it was receiving. Massive chunks of the metal flew every-which-way, until finally, the man-- the alien-- behind the curtain was revealed.

The purple monstrosity clambered out of his Justice League induced prison, his massive clawed hands allowing him to easily scale the cavern that had been revealed and pull himself outside. He put out his alien hand to take Metallo's, and his mouth, full of needle-sharp teeth when he smiled, opened wide: "Good work, John. Now, let us journey back to Earth, and to my new kingdom."

"I don't think so, Despero." John Corben grinned from ear to ear. His chest laser grew in size, all the shards of kryptonite in his body sliding into place to form a massive lens. "You shouldn't have come after me, alien. I don't take too kindly to it."

"That's not your..." Despero's three eyes opened wide, and Corben's chest beam caught him in the face, purple flesh scouring off muscle and bone, and causing Despero to scream. "--Luuuuthorrr!"

"In mind, if not in person. You thought me in your thrall? Even under your mental control, I allowed myself to construct Metallo's new body to my specifications. Including, of course, an emergency override." Metallo turned, and began to sprint toward the open Boom Tube, and then dove for it. Despero's eyes opened wide. He didn't want Thanagar-- he wanted Earth, he wanted his revenge! His massive body began to move toward the portal, his size belying incredible speed, and then he reached the Tube, leaped through and entered the event horizon--!



Metallo hit the metal floor hard, and his body careened across until he hit the far wall. "He's coming through, Luthor!" shouted Catman, seeing Despero appear in the distance of the portal.

"That's the idea," said Luthor, before he pressed another button on the Boom Tube projector, and the tunnel vanished from sight. "Aaaand goodnight, you alien bastard."

Catman slowly approached the twitching body of Metallo, and climbed on top of him, pressing his heels down on his chest. “Not yet, robot, but soon, when you’re back and operational? I’m going to cut you into little metal bits, and I’m going to send them to all the corners of the globe. And you ain’t even going to be able to stop me?” Blake moved close to Corben’s face, and grinned maliciously. “You understand me?”

John Corben said nothing, his systems requiring complete reboot. Catman climbed back off him, and then headed toward the other two Rogues, contented at his actions for the time being.

Deathstroke's eyebrow slowly rose, and he returned to the subject at hand. "Where'd you send him, Luthor?"

"Far and away. The League was weak. Nth metal is good for insulating against psychics, but the Gamma Gong allowed him a presence on Earth… albeit a weak one. If it were me, I would have put him down then and there. If it weren't for us, the entire planet would have been under his control within, say, a month."

"Does that make us the good guys?" said Catman, sheathing his knives.

Lex Luthor laughed, and patted Catman on the back. "Oh, Mr. Blake! I'm always the 'good guy'. It's the Justice League and their allies that are the villains of this piece. They blunt our awareness of threats, our ability to combat them, and then expect us to follow them blindly? I do not approve. I do not approve one bit."

"So, what now?" asked Deathstroke, as he lit up another cigarette. "You headed back to Metropolis?"

"I have nothing left for me there. My company is in ruins, dragged into the dirt by Pete Ross and his ilk. No, I seem to remember there being a Society of sorts all around us, one full of mutually-minded-individuals. I think we could be great, my friends. What do you say, Slade? Are you going to stick around?"

Deathstroke shrugged, and walked out of the lab. "You have my number. But I don't have any reason to stick around for the time being. If you have a problem regarding The Guardian though, do give me a call. I wouldn't mind beating him to death in the near future."

"The Guardian...?" repeated Catman, "but I thought he was dead?"

Deathstroke turned. "No one is as they seem, Blake. Remember that. You’re a mean sonofabitch, I trained you well. Luthor, you'd be good to keep him working. He's a solid bastard if I ever saw one. Ravager was a Checkmate plant. You might have some problems with the ol' US of A in the coming weeks. And don't forget Injustice, Unlimited. Despero pissed them right off."

"All things that can be rectified, Deathstroke."

Alarms began to blare. Deathstroke vanished from the laboratory, and could be heard shouting Warp's name, and calling for his attention in the Frenchman's native tongue. "What's that alarm mean?"

Lex Luthor removed his lab-coat, and then looked at his Despero-induced state of disheveled disarray. "Hhuh. The Voice has been using a number of very special LexCorp bunkers for Society goings-on. That means that the sensors have detected radio transmissions in the atmosphere that are hostile to this location. We've been located--!"



"Don't think to track our location," the recorded voice said, "We’re bouncing our signal through all kinds of software. No, you'd be wasting precious time and breathe if you cared about who we are. I think what's important are the coordinates that are now in your servers Checkmate. We find a hole a few months back. You might want to seal it. Don't worry, it's nothing malicious. We just thought you'd like to know the location of the Society that's been causing you all kinds of trouble."

"And that's the whole message?" asked Steve Trevor. "And we can't track the source?"

"Appears so, sir," said one of the operators in front of the White King. "I've brought the location up on the main screen."

"That's an old LexCorp site, isn't it? Something was going to be built there until Luthor's fall from grace." Steve Trevor rapped his fingers across the desk in front of him. "That bastard... it's underneath! Ready the troops, we're going in hard, and we’re going in fast." He turned to Adam Strange, Hawkman, Blue Beetle and The Question. "You want in on this?"

"Totally," said Blue Beetle. Hawkman simply cracked his knuckles behind him.

[/b]

"Why dirty our own hands, if a bit of information brokering will do?" Ira Quimby smiled. "Checkmate can do our dirty work, and they'll remove the Society from our list of woes for the time being. Now, we can continue to reinforce our foundation and foothold in the world."

"It's good to have you back, Ira," said Temple Fugit, as he checked his watch. "Checkmate has teleporters. They should be there round about... now."

"Good luck to our brothers-in-sin," said Ira, as he raised his glass to his comrades. "To Injustice, Unlimited! And to the world!"

[/b]

Catman was dazed, and looked up to Lex Luthor as the genius smiled. Blake was still on the ground, his head spinning, whilst Luthor was on his feet, and surveying the scene. "What was that?"

Lex turned immediately to his comrade, and smiled knowingly. "Mass matter transit. The foundations of the bunker are laced with cargo cult technology that work as a teleport grid in time for those awkward emergency exits." Lex then looked back around, and saw dozens of super-villains, all dazed and confused. He checked his watch, and began to think outloud to the confused Blake. “I think I have time in my schedule for a grass-roots campaign toward world domination. And what better place to start than here? It's time for a new beginning, Catman. I'll need someone at my right hand side, of course, and you come highly recommended. Join me?"

Catman smiled, and nodded, flanking Luthor as he approached the crowds.

"First, a speech for the masses, and then secondly, we need to talk to the residents of this island, and the man that rules it with an iron fist."

Blake bristled in the staid heat of their new location, and then asked the question that had nagged at him since their unorthodox arrival in this new locale. "Where are we, anyway?"

"Questions, questions, questions, Catman! We're in Santa Prisca. The worst place on Earth. And from here, we're going to save the world from itself--!"