Titans: The Resistance Annual #2

Connor Hawke was not a person who often got nervous. He’d spent a lifetime learning how to control his emotions and maintain a level head in any situation. And yet, sitting aboard an aircraft with a collection of strangers was especially disconcerting to him.

The twenty-year-old vigilante called Green Arrow had met a young man in a suit, who had invited him to take a ride on a private jet. Connor was unsure, to say the least, but the stranger knew all about him; his secret identity, his ‘relationship’ with the League of Assassins, even his time with Rose Wilson aboard the Sweet Lilli. This young man knew everything about him, and Connor had a feeling he could use the information to tear him apart.

At present, Connor sat across from the stranger, dressed in the casual attire he had been picked up in. A stewardess approached the stranger and asked him for a drink order.

“A martini for me,” the stranger said. “And for our guest?” He looked at Connor expectantly.

“Nothing, thanks,” he responded. The stewardess nodded and smiled pleasantly as she walked away.

“I’ll tell you this, kid,” the stranger said, “Drinking one of those really makes you feel like a spy, y’know?”

“Sir, I’m not a spy,” Connor answered, “But you clearly are. So if you could explain to me exactly why I’m here…?”

“Right, right, of course;” he said, “Mr. Hawke, my name is Agent Lucas Carr. I work with a faction of the Central Intelligence Agency called Task Force X, a criminal rehabilitation program in which superhuman offenders are put to work, using their talents on behalf of the United States. Recently, there was an attempt on the President’s life by Markovian agents with metahuman abilities. A war with the empire seems inevitable, and we need to act. That’s where you come in. You and I will put together a black ops team, invade enemy lines, and work towards crippling the empire before open hostilities begin.”

It was then that the stewardess returned with Agent Carr’s drink. He took it and sipped it eagerly, savoring the drink. Connor waited patiently, until the agent returned his attention to the vigilante. Then Connor spoke.

“Now, I’m curious about something;” he said, “You’ve made it abundantly clear that you know all there is to know about me, as uncomfortable as that is. So I’m curious as to why you want me, someone who has no powers, abilities, or even any sort of fantastical device, to join this group.”

“That kind of thing never stopped your old man,” Agent Carr said. Those words made Connor feel more uneasy than he already did. Lucas, seeing this, exchanged his official tone of voice for a more relatable one. “Look, here’s the thing: Yes, we realize you don’t have powers, but the folks upstairs want at least one person working for them who’s…who’s human.”

“Having powers doesn’t take away your humanity.”

“You’re missing the point, kid; we want you because you’ve never had powers, and as far we can see it, you’ll never get powers. But that’s what we like about you. You’re more down-to-earth than any of these psychos. You bring a different point of view to the table and that’s why we want you.”

He leaned back, taking another sip of his drink, and added, “This is your chance to help defend your country and topple a despotic regime. Or, you can go back to Florida to shoot arrows at pickpockets and drug dealers. Your choice.”

Connor paused, staring at nothing and thinking intently about the offer. The nervous silence between them was finally broken when Connor said, “All right. I’m in.”

When supervillains needed to be imprisoned in a place that could successfully keep them imprisoned despite their powers, they would often go to the Slab or Belle Reve or, the most infamous of them all, the Lionel Luthor Maximum Security Penitentiary. Located on Ostrander Island off the coast of Metropolis, it was home to villains considered the worst of the worst, so powerful that only America’s greatest mind, Lex Luthor, could keep them locked up. That’s where Connor, Mikron, and Agent Carr were headed.

As they touched down on the landing pad on the roof of the sleek steel building, they were greeted by a man in uniform. “Good afternoon,” he said as they stepped out, “I’ve been expecting you. I’m John Corben, I’m the warden here.”

“Agent Lucas Carr, we spoke on the phone,” the agent answered, shaking the warden’s hand, “This is my associate Connor Hawke.”

“Right, you came to discuss the release of one of my inmates,” he responded, “Please, follow me.”

As Connor and Agent Carr stepped down to follow the warden, Connor turned back and asked Mikron, “Are you coming?”

“No,” he answered, “I need to make arrangements for another of our group.” Connor shrugged and went to catch up with his associate.

The warden, the agent, and the vigilante all came to a particularly large cell inside the prison. On the other side of the clear glass barrier was a grotesque figure. It was shaped like a person, but his skin was a disgusting purple, and sickly mutated and misshapen. The monstrous thing looked up at them as they approached.

“Rudy Jones, a.k.a. the Parasite,” Warden Corben explained, “He was involved in some sort of accident that gave him his powers. He then used them to murder seven people and injure nineteen until Lexcorp Security and the Metro PD brought him here. We don’t let him interact with the other inmates or leave his cell and we feed him in rats on a daily basis.”

He turned to the others and said, “Now tell me what exactly you want with him.”

“We’re a group that rehabilitates supercriminals by having them perform duties for the United States,” Agent Carr answered, “That’s all I can tell you.”

“Hey Metallo!” Parasite said from within his cell, catching all of their attentions, “Who’re these dicks?”

“Your new bosses,” Warden Corben responded with a smirk. He looked at Carr. “Come on, I’ll get the paperwork.”

Agent Carr looked over towards Parasite and said, “Welcome to the war.”

“Goody,” the monster replied sarcastically as they walked away.

The team’s next stop was far less prolific than the first two. In fact, it was not a prison at all, but an air field in Chicago. It was there that Agent Carr’s jet was met by another. Two passengers stepped out of it. The first was a prisoner, marked by his handcuffs and orange jumpsuit. He was escorted by a guard in uniform, a package under his right arm. After a lengthy conversation with both of them, Agent Carr introduced the prisoner to the team as the guard took off in the other jet.

“Guys, this is Larry Bolatinsky, a.k.a. Bolt,” he said, “He’ll be on the team too. Now why don’t you all get acquainted while I run into town and conduct some business?” As he was about to leave, he took the package from under his arm and tossed it to Gizmo. “You can fix it, right?” Mikron responded with a look of offense and anger. “Just checking,” Agent Carr said before he left.

“What are you fixing?” Connor asked.

“His suit,” Mikron responded. He opened up the package to reveal a black outfit, complete with a mask and a logo of a skull over a lightning bolt on the chest.

“What’s wrong with my suit?” Larry asked.

“Well, I haven’t gotten a good look at it yet,” Mikron answered, inspecting the costume carefully, “But from what I can tell, your power battery is functioning at one fifth of its potential, it’s not properly contained which could cause a leak, your teleporter has the range of a rubber-band gun, and its area of effect needs to be expanded, not to mention the fact that if we’re supposed to be incognito, you can’t walk around enemy territory dressed like a supervillain.” And with that, he began his work.

“A-and you can fix all that?” Larry pressed.

Not bothering to look up from the task at hand, Gizmo responded, “Why do people feel the need to question my talents?”

Understanding his meaning, Larry turned to the others and said, “So we’re really going to get to be heroes?”

“That’s what we’ve been lead to believe,” Parasite responded unenthusiastically.

“Yes, Mr. Bolatinsky,” Connor interjected, “We get to be heroes.”

“Oh man,” Larry said, clearly excited by the prospect, “Oh man…this is perfect. This is exactly what I’ve been looking for. I mean, ever since the last time Blue Devil took me down, I’ve been looking for a fresh start, y’know? A new opportunity. And then this comes along. It’s…this is great.”

The others didn’t match his enthusiasm. “C’mon, aren’t you guys excited? We get to be heroes!”

“Hey, dumbass, I didn’t want this,” Clayface addressed him, “Any of it. I just wanted to get out of this business altogether. No heroes, no villains, just a simple life. And then the asshole in the fancy suit tells me I have to work it off here or get dropped back into Arkham. Raw deal.”

“It’s more than I got,” Parasite responded, “I didn’t even get a choice. I was just drafted.”

“You do realize,” Mikron chipped in, “What the term ‘putting your talents to work on behalf of the government’ entails, right?”

Parasite’s inhuman face made an expression of confusion and curiosity. “Does it mean…does it mean I get to feed on people? Actual people? And I can get away with it?”

“Pretty much.”

Rudy Jones leaned back and smiled a bone-chilling smile as he imagined the possibilities.

“So tell me,” Connor said, addressing Mikron, “You’ve been in the project longer than all of us. How do you feel about this?”

Gizmo remained focused on reconstruction of the suit during the conversation. “Well, I haven’t had fieldwork opportunities in three years, so I suppose that’s a nice change of pace.”

“Well how did you feel when you first got offered the job?” Larry asked.

“Like it was the best opportunity available to me at the time.”

“And supposing a better opportunity came along,” Connor pointed out, “What then?”

For the first time since he had begun his work, Mikron shifted his focus, staring Connor straight in the eye and saying, “I’d take it in a heartbeat.” He let his mouth betray a sinister sneer before returning to the suit.

Connor knew what he meant. If given the chance, if offered something better than what Task Force X could give him, Mikron would betray the rest of the team without a second thought. And that notion terrified Connor to the bone.