New Outsiders Special #1

1.

The ruins of the Starfish Hotel and Casino sat smack in the middle of the Las Vegas Strip, a pile of twisted steel, broken glass and smashed cement. It had been almost two years since the Royal Flush Gang had destroyed the building, and when the Great Recession hit Sin City, the money to clear the lot had just run out. Now it was roped-off with police tape and all-but ignored by the inebriated pedestrians, streetwalkers and tourists as they flowed by in seek of entertainment, few of them paying any attention that night to the blonde woman who pulled her bike off the Strip and onto the access road alongside the condemned site.

Black Canary parked her bike and killed the engine. She scanned the area as she climbed off, squinting into the shadows of the rubble heaps. For a moment, she just stood, there, hands on her hips, unsure of or unwilling to take the next step. She had never imagined herself returning to this place. It came with too many memories, some good, some… not so good.

The night they met. She was clad only in the thin sheet from their bed as she clung to him, and they swung out, high above the Strip, on the cable shot from a grappling arrow: “Hold on, Pretty Bird…!”

On Apokolips. Her screams echoed throughout the chambers of the dank and hopeless citadel. Desaad inhaled deeply of the scent off her burning flesh and shuddered with satisfaction. His eyes were blazing with madness and something very close to ecstasy.

She shut her eyes against the memories, but she was stronger than them, and beyond the hurt that came with them. When she opened her eyes again, she looked down at what she held in her gloved hand: a small metallic ‘O’, throbbing faintly.

“You too, huh?”

The voice came from the shadows above her. She looked up, a flood lamp causing her to shield her eyes; but of course, that was intentional. A figure clad in tatters of blue, black and purple dropped down from some half-melted scaffolding, and straightened up in front of Black Canary, hips cocked in a familiar, challenging stance.

“Huntress,” Black Canary greeted her former teammate with a guarded smile she noted was not returned. “Long time. I didn’t know you were still in Vegas.”

“Cut it, Dinah, you know I’m here for the same reason you are. The distress signel.” The raven-haired masked woman held out her hand, flashing the faintly pulsing ‘O’ shaped device, twin to the one in Black Canary’s. “We may not be a team anymore, but once an Outsider…” She left it hanging.

Black Canary nodded, glancing around. “I thought more of us would have responded.” She said in a quiet, disappointed tone.

Huntress studied her a moment before speaking, her dark eyes searching Black Canary’s face for some sign of recrimination. She found only a wistful sadness. “Maybe you and I are the only ones who still have a signal device.” She said, the tension in her body releasing a little. She was trying to be reassuring.

“Maybe,” Black Canary began wandering through the rubble, picking her way carefully through the open spaces between debris. “The way it all ended…” She shook her head, stepping over the remains of a well-stock liquor cabinet. She thought of the Gilded Cage, the lounge that was the jewel of the Starfish, and she thought of friendship and love and betrayal.

“I’ve already been over the site,” Huntress told her. “Took you long enough to get here. This way.” She turned with a flourish of her cape and bounded over mounds of wreckage.

Black Canary followed her to an open space, far from the road and the garish lights of the Strip. Huntress had a light attached to her crossbow that she used to illuminate the scene. On the ground was a body, metallic and red, also caped. An arm was torn off, and the head lay several feet from the torso, wires protruding from the neck. It was scored in places, as if by claws, wires and circuitry spilling out.

“Red Tornado,” Black Canary picked up the android’s head, turning it around in her hands, surveying the damage. There was no light behind the eye-slits, but a few of the fiber optic cables sparked and blinked. “Who did this to you, Reddy?”

There was a flash and a pop that surprised them both. Black Canary dropped Red Tornado’s head and raised her guard as Huntress aimed her crossbow, narrowing her eyes against the light.

“Leather and fishnets, Dinah, really? That is so five years ago.” drawled the new arrival as the spangling light faded.

“Zee!” Black Canary rushed up to hug the sorceress. Zatanna returned the embrace enthusiastically. “This new spandex look is a bit risqué for you.”

The young magician tossed her head back, her long black hair drawn into a ponytail, and twirled for her former comrade, flaring out her little cape. She wore a skin tight blue and red body suit with a high collar that opened in the front to a plunging neckline. “We all have to grow up sometime, right? I decided it was time for me to step out of shadows of my father’s legacy.”

“Time to make some shadows of your own, then?” Huntress sneered, then instantly regretted the dig. “I’m sorry, Zee. That was uncalled for.”

Zatanna was hurt, but after an awkward moment, she smiled through it. “No, it’s alright. We all have to come to terms with our sins.” Then she noticed Red Tornado’s body on the ground, saw the head where Black Canary had dropped it. “Poor Reddy. What happened here?”

“He was attacked, obviously,” Black Canary sighed, looking over the ground nearby. “Though why he was here, in the ruins of our old HQ, or who did this, is a mystery to me. I had hoped to find Babs here. She’s the detective. Helena, did you notice anything when you went over the scene?”

Huntress shook her head. “Are you kidding me, this place is a disaster. There’s debris all over, how would I even know what to look for. I was hoping maybe Zatanna could…” She wiggled the fingers of one hand in a mysterious manner.

“Found something!” Zee cried.

“Told you,” Huntress smirked at Black Canary with a little of the former warmth they had once shared.

But Zatanna had used no magic. Something had caught her eye, had glinted in the moonlight, peeking out from where it had fallen on the ground. The sorceress scooped it up and showed it to them: in her hand was an arrow, snapped in the middle, the shaft colored green.

Dinah was taken aback. “Ollie…?”

A roar split the night. Something big leaped from the darkness and fell into their midst, hitting them hard and scattering them like bowling pins. One razor-sharp claw flashed out, and was deflected from Zatanna’s throat with a hastily shouted, “Dleihs!” The monstrous form pressed her, though, swiping and slashing furiously, sparks erupting from where the claws raked the magical shield. Zatanna fell backward, her foot landing wrong on a rock, and she went down, hitting her head.

The thing reared up triumphantly and released a roar that rumbled across the wreckage of the Starfish Hotel. It had the head of a lion, was covered in long, orange hair, but stood upright like a man. Teeth like knives protruded from his maw, and in its eyes gleamed murder--- Zatanna was laying on her back, dazed and momentarily helpless.

First one crossbow bolt, then another sprouted from the creature’s back, and he whirled with a terrible growl. Huntress ducked back down behind a scree of rubble and jerked her head at Black Canary, “Now that I got his attention, he’s all yours.”

Black Canary wasted no time. She opened her mouth and blasted him with a sonic scream. Huntress hunched over and covered her ears, but the monster had been unprepared. He reeled from the attack, doubling over in pain, covering his head and moaning piteously. But he did not fall. Black Canary intended to remedy that, somersaulting over the ground and planting both feet in his solar plexus. It was like hitting a brick wall. She rebounded, bouncing across the treacherous ground, taking scrapes, cuts and bruises on the debris. He returned her sonic scream with a fearsome roar of his own. He trumpeted his murderous rage, shook his wild mane at her, bared his fangs, and charged.

“Dawson!”

A winged figure swooped out of the night sky. The leonine monster turned and extended his arms to meet the frontal assault with something like surprised glee. The man on metallic wings strafed the ground and swung a mace crackling with energy, like a batter at home plate in Yankee Stadium. The blow caught the creature square in the mid-section and knocked him twenty feet across the rubble.

“Hawkman!” Black Canary scrambled to her feet, holding her arm tightly to her; it felt like she had torn something.

“Stay back,” warned the Thanagarian out of one side of his mouth as he landed, never taking his attention from his prey. “This is Lion-Mane, a mutant and a maneater. And he’s mine.”

“Really? I thought he was an escapee from Siegfried and Roy’s Secret Garden,” quipped Black Canary. “And like hell will I stay back.”

Lion-Mane sprang back into the fray, fore-claws extended and glinting, gaping maw exposing rows of teeth. From her vantage point behind cover, Huntress fired off a bolt that sank into Lion-Mane’s shoulder to no effect, while Black Canary let loose with another tightly focused sonic scream. The scream burst Lion-Mane’s eyedrums, but he was in a homicidal frenzy, flinging himself straight at Hawkman. Which was right where Hawkman wanted him. He flung up his Nth Mace, catching the monster’s claws on the haft, and with one foot lashed out, hard. The kick, fueled by the psycho-receptive properties of the Nth metal Katar wore, broke ribs and knocked the wind out of the creature. Hurt, he staggered back--- and was unprepared when Katar brought his mace around in a wide swing that whipped Lion-Mane’s head around. The creature’s tongue lolled from his head and he collapsed, senseless.

Almost as quickly as it had begun, the fight was over.

Black Canary shuffled up to where Hawkman knelt by the fallen monster, as Huntress helped a shaken Zatanna to her feet.

“He’s a gruesome brute,” remarked Black Canary, studying the unconscious Lion-Mane.

“I told you to stay back,” Hawkman shot back at her, unheated, but annoyed. “I’ve been tracking Dawson for days, ever since he was broken out of the Slab. He is extremely dangerous, and could have---.”

“Hey, birdbrain, this isn’t my first rodeo,” Black Canary cut him off. “I can take care of myself.”

“We all can.” Zatanna said, as she, leaning on Huntress, joined them over Lion-Man.

“And we don’t take orders from Justice Leaguers,” Huntress added, holstering her crossbow, but keeping one hand on the stock.

“He’s not with the Justice League anymore,” Black Canary pointed out. “They kicked him off the team, isn’t that right Hawkman?”

Thanks to the mask, the only reaction she saw was a barely perceptible tightening of the jaw. “It’s true, I’m no longer in the Justice League,” he confirmed, and seemed about to say something else, but instead, clamped his mouth shut. He looked away, noticing the dismembered body of Red Tornado. He looked back to them. “What happened here?”

“Well, judging from the marks on Reddy’s body, I’d say your pet kitty here attacked our friends, then waited to ambush the rest of us.” Black Canary shot back at him.

“Friends?” Hawkman did not miss the plural. “Who else…?”

A small wrinkle of worry furrowed the otherwise smooth brow of Black Canary. She looked away, and breathed. “It’s Green Arrow. He’s missing.”


2.

Green Arrow instantly regretted his return to consciousness. He hung by his wrists, suspended from the ceiling only as far to make him strain on his tip-toes. Every part of him hurt, some parts more than others. A gash on his head, where Lion-Mane had clipped him, ached dully and he could feel the blood dripping down his face. He must have looked ghastly. Hasn’t hurt me with the ladies yet, he told himself, refusing to give into the panic any reasonable person should have felt in the same situation. But I really need to learn to duck.

At first he thought he was blind, because all was darkness, but deeper shadows shifted in front of him.

“Hey, how ‘bout some light?” he called out, his voice echoing in what must have been a vast chamber.

“Careful what you wish for,” came a clipped, nasally voice. Then someone snapped their fingers, and standing only a few feet from the bound hero was a man in a fin-topped costume of black and white, sporting a carefully groomed chin-beard and a malicious smirk, the light emanating from his upraised hand.

His eyes unused to the brightness, Green Arrow closed them and turned his head away. “Geez, Light, it’s just you. I was worried for a second there.”

“It’s Doctor Light, you imbecile,” the villain hissed. “And you’ll have cause to regret that remark soon enough.”

“Don’t you people ever get tired of talking like that?” Green Arrow sighed. He peeked one eye open and squinted at his captor. “So what’s your game this time, Arthur? Assault and kidnapping, so far, obviously. Gonna knock over a casino or a bank later?”

“Nothing so ambitious,” Light had a wicked look in his dark eyes. “Just good, old fashioned revenge.”

Green Arrow didn’t let this rattle him. Bound, injured and at the mercy of a psychopath, he’d been in worse scrapes before and come out just fine. “Well then, you’d better call your pet kitty back, because you couldn’t revenge yourself out of a paper bag, Doc.”

A blow rocked Green Arrow’s head back, an inexpert punch that was nevertheless delivered with gusto. Ollie spat out a gob of blood. “C’mon, Light. My ex used to hit me harder than that in bed.”

Doctor Light grabbed him by the hair and seethed into Ollie’s face, “I’m going to make you pay for every time you’ve belittled me, Green Arrow. I have friends now. Powerful friends! They gave me Lion-Mane to help bring you down. He tore apart your stupid robot and will kill anyone else who responds to my fake distress signal. But I have special plans for you.”

Ollie laughed weakly, looking up at Doctor Light through a swollen eye. “You think you have friends, Light? The people I have on speed dial will make you wet yourself. I once saw Batman glare a man to death. Damnedest thing I ever saw.” He shivered dramatically.

It was Light’s turn to laugh. “You’re lying. I’ve watched you carefully this last year, since I escaped the squalid hole your testimony condemned me to. Your old team, the Outsiders has fallen apart, the Seven Soldiers of Victory don’t want you anymore. And I doubt the Justice League even know who you are, Green Arrow.” He was worked up, his spittle flying in Ollie’s face. “But they will! Oh, everyone will know your name when I’m through with you. I’m going to make an example of you. And then all the world will fear the name of Doctor Light.”

Green Arrow was taken aback by the vehemence in Light’s speech. “What are you talking about, Light?”

“I’m going to show everyone the true consequences of putting on those ridiculous costumes, and what is waiting out there for them in the dark when they do.” He grabbed Ollie’s face in his gloved hands, his thumbs propping open Ollie’s eyes. “I’m going to end you, Green Arrow, and I want your last sight to be of the man who beat you. I’m going to show you the light!”

Brilliance brighter than the sun flared from his hands, flooding the room. Doctor Light cackled maniacally, and Green Arrow screamed.


3.

In his lab on the campus of Ivy Town University, Ray Palmer yawned, sipped his coffee, and put the finishing touches on his latest paper: The Effects of White Dwarf Stellar Radiation on Organic Compounds. He wasn’t sure he was going to be able to publish it, as it was going to be tough to get this one peer-reviewed, but he was nevertheless astounded by his findings. And if he was right, it would change his own life, forever.

A knock came at his door. It was long-past midnight, and everyone else had gone home hours ago. Through the frosted glass of his door, he saw the silhouette of a winged man, and relaxed.

“Evening, Katar,” he opened the door for his friend, raising an eyebrow at the others with him. “Can’t be good news at this time of night.” His eyes fell on the metallic red android head in Black Canary’s hands. He looked up at Hawkman. “Problem with your friend?”





“Well, at least Lion-Mane is back in custody,” Ray straddled his rolling chair belly-up to his work table, where the body of Red Tornado was placed so he could work on it. “I know there’s bad blood between the two of you. How’s Ken--- ahem, Hawkgirl?” He glanced apologetically over at Black Canary, Huntress and Zatanna, all of whom were leaning against whatever wall-, cabinet- or table-space they could find. Hawkman, helmet off, smiled thinly, his dark eyes glinting beneath closely-cropped black hair.

“Hawkgirl’s fine, Ray, thanks. That is, I think she is. We haven’t spoken for a while. She keeps pretty busy these days. As do I.”

“Yeah, I’ve been meaning to call you, myself, buddy.” Ray peered deeply into the open chestplate of the android, applying what looked like a surgical screwdriver to a nest of wiring. “About that business with the League. It’s just I’ve been so busy. I’m sure there’s more to it than was in the papers. Is there anything I can do? I mean, I’m only a reserve member, but I’d be happy to put in a word…”

“Let it lie,” Katar said without inflection, but with an undercurrent of tension in his voice his friend Ray Palmer did not miss.

Black Canary let out an exasperated breath and said, “I’m glad you two are so chummy and all, but Green Arrow is missing and as of right now, Red Tornado might be the only one who knows who took him. Less talk and more…” she waved her fingers at a bemused Ray. “Science-iness!” she finished lamely.

“I’m almost there, Canary,” Ray winked at her, the tip of his tongue protruding from his mouth as he worked. “But couldn’t Lion-Mane tell you anything?”

“Hawkman hit him pretty hard,” drawled Huntress. “It looks like he’ll be taking an extended catnap.”

“Magic?” Ray turned to Zatanna.

The young sorceress turned from where she was examining a specimen of White Dwarf material under glass. “I’m a magician, not a goddess. There are limits.” She shrugged. “I’m going to need something to go on.”

Just then, Ray exclaimed “Aha!” and Red Tornado sat up with a sudden, sharp motion, his chest plate still swinging open. His eyeslits glowed yellow and his re-attached head swiveled to regard those gathered in the lab.

“My friends…!” Came the modulated artificial voice. It carried a note of emotion Ray Palmer could not believe was contrived. The android’s creator, T.O. Morrow was a colleague and friend of Ray’s old rival Professor Ivo, and it had been a revelation rooting around in Reddy’s systems, but Ray knew he would have to save a more thorough examination for another time.

“Reddy!” Zatanna and the others drew closer, Hawkman hanging back to allow them their reunion.

Black Canary took the android by the arm. “Reddy, what happened? Did you see Green Arrow?”

Red Tornado fixed her with his gleaming stare. “Yes. He and I arrived at the same time, in response to the distress signal. He was afraid it was yours, Black Canary.”

“Best way to get him to come running, I suppose, the sentimental idiot,” Black Canary shook her head, cursing inwardly. “Somebody definitely had his number. But it was a trap.”

“Yes,” confirmed Red Tornado. “I am sorry, I did not get a good look at our attacker. It was a monstrous creature, and it surprised me. The last thing I saw before I was rendered inoperable was Green Arrow leaping on its back to pull it off me.”

“Idiot,” Black Canary repeated, and turned away in disappointment at the dead end.

For the second time that night, there was a knock on the door. Ray checked his watch; it was almost 3 A.M. now.

The man at the door was a handsome older man, clean shaven with fair hair, in the uniform of an Air Force colonel.

“Can I help you?” asked Ray, puzzled at this turn of events.

“Professor Palmer?”

“Yes…”

“Pardon me for calling at such a late hour, but your wife told me I could find you here. That you’d still be working.”

“What can I do for you, colonel?” Ray held the door open wider.

The military man stepped into the room, and the others saw his armed escort in the hallway outside. He glanced around the room, taking note of the assembled heroes, his eyes lingering briefly on Hawkman. “One exiled Leaguer and four second-stringers,” he muttered to himself, rubbing the bridge of his nose tiredly.

“What the hell do you mean by that?” Huntress demaned hotly.

The colonel put his hands up and assumed a contrite expression. “Forgive me, Huntress, it’s been a long night, and recent developments have taken their toll. I meant no disrespect.” He doffed his cap, and introduced himself. “I’m Colonel Kyle Morgan, and we have a mutual friend named Hal Jordan. Only I can’t seem to get in touch with Hal these days, and his only Justice League associate we have identified for sure is yourself, Professor Palmer. Or should I call you the Atom?”

Ray was about to sputter a denial when Hawkman stepped forward and said, “You can call him whatever you like, Colonel, but if you don’t tell us what you want with your next sentence, we’re going to have to ask you to leave. We have urgent business of our own.”

“Yes, I know,” said Colonel Morgan. “The whole world knows your business, Hawkman. Or soon will. I assume you haven’t seen it yet?”

At their blank stares, he strode across the room to an open laptop, typed one-handedly and brought up a video on a news-site.

They watched, aghast, as the visage of Doctor Light filled the screen. He was ranting, light flaring from his hands in fits and starts--- but the truly startling part was that behind the supervillain, dangling from a rope suspended from the ceiling was Green Arrow. He was bloodied and looking much the worse for wear. Worst of all, the area around his eyes was red, burnt and raw. Occasionally the camera focused on his face, showing his ravaged eyes: it was clear he had been blinded.

Black Canary inhaled sharply, one hand fluttering to cover her mouth. Zatanna moved closer to her, putting an arm around her friend’s shoulder, and while she didn’t reach out, Huntress stood protectively on her other side.

“… that I’m some kind of a joke, or a fraud. I will show you that I’m a man who’s not to be trifled with! When you see one of your beloved superheroes executed live on the internet, people will fear the name of Doctor Light! It was this second-rate Robin Hood’s testimony that put me away last time, and he laughed--- laughed!--- as they dragged me away, locked me up with the killers and the rapists. Well, his chickens have come home to roost. I bided my time, was released early on good behavior, but I never forgot. Oh, no! Every day in that prison, I endured the torment and the degradation until they said I was rehabilitated. All so I could have the last laugh…!” the video feed switched to a pre-recorded scene some time earlier. It showed the villain, holding Green Arrow by the head, blasting him with light, burning out his eyes. “Do you see the light now, Green Arrow? Do you see it?” he yelled repeatedly over the hero’s screams.

“My god, Ollie,” Black Canary breathed, forgetting herself in her distress, tears welling in her eyes.

The scene was replaced by a close-up of Doctor Light’s ghoulishly-pleased face. “What do you call an archer who can’t see to shoot his bow?” He licked his lips, amused at his mordant humor. “A broken arrow.”

Huntress swore under her breath, her hand dropping reflexively to the stock of her crossbow.

“I don’t even have to kill him,” Doctor Light crowed. “I’ve taken from him everything that makes him special. I’ve ended him! Green Arrow is no more. No, I don’t have to kill him,” the camera zoomed narrowly on his flabby, fluttering lips for his final words. “But I’m going to. Stay tuned kiddies. The fun is just beginning.”

The pictured flickered and recycled to the beginning. “People used to laugh at me, look at me down their nose and tell each other that I’m some kind of a joke or a fraud…”

Colonel Morgan killed the feed and looked up into the stunned silence of the room. “Years ago I used to go by the name Ace, and I ran with a group called the Challengers of the Unknown. We were a team, and when somebody hurt one of us, they hurt all of us. America’s superheroes are her greatest resource, and the government and people of the United States stands by them. We’re not going to let this psychopath kill Green Arrow. We’re in this together, and I’m here to help.”

“How?” demanded Hawkman. His hands clenched and unclenched, as if he was aching to throttle something.

In answer, Morgan spoke into a receiver on his cufflink, “Please tell Mr. Pierce to come in now.”

After a moment, another man joined them in the lab, one familiar to some of them, an African-American man in a domino mask and a blue, white and gold costume, emblazoned with lightning bolts.

“Jeff!” Black Canary gasped to see him.

Black Lightning went to her and enfolded her in a quick, tight hug. He greeted the others gruffly, as Morgan explained.

“Black Lightning came to us a few hours ago with intel, after seeing this video. An informant of his alerted him that Doctor Light was seeking out the services of a shadowy criminal organization called the H.I.V.E. for something big. We’ve been very interested in the activities of the H.I.V.E. for a while now, and we think we know where they have Light holed up.”

He looked at Black Lightning, who took it from there. “The trouble is, it would take too long to cut the red tape and go through the proper channels to stage a retrieval operation, and we don’t think Green Arrow has that kind of time. We need an extra-legal solution. That’s where we come in: superheroes can go and do what the US Army can’t. Not too long ago, Green Arrow came after me when I was in trouble, so I’m sure as hell not going to sit this one out. But I don’t know if I can do this alone. Are you guys with me?” He looked from one to the other, seeing the same resolve mirrored on their faces.

None of them hesitated. There were affirmatives all around.

“Well, I guess I better suit up,” Ray Palmer said with a lop-sided grin. “Because I’m not sitting this one out either. But give me a minute to call my wife…”


4.

Somewhere in the Canadian Rockies, Doctor Light stood on the balcony of an installation built high up into the side of a mountain, looking out over the pristine wilderness. It was an almost organic-looking installation of gleaming cream-colored metal, constructed to look like a honeycomb clinging to the side of the rock.

“I thought revenge would have tasted sweeter…” the supervillain mused, his breath frosting in the air, not turning to look at the robed figure at the entrance behind him. The H.I.V.E. Master offered no consolations, his face obscured by the shadows of his hood. “Still, I think I’ve left a mark they’ll not long forget.” Gone was the wild, frantic ranting of the recorded message. He was calm and calculating.

“Your resolve has not weakened, I trust?” asked the Master, his voice weird and tremulous. A buzzing undercurrent ran through it. It did not sound human.

“No,” sighed Doctor Light, and something of the anticipatory glee returned to his face. “If they think this is a bloody nose, wait until I shank them in the guts. After today, the world will tremble at the mention of my name. And no one will ever laugh at me again.”

A soft rustle of fabric indicated a nod from the H.I.V.E. Master.

Doctor Light opened his mouth to say something else, but just then a supersonic stealth aircraft of flat black material broke from the clouds and soared over the mountains. Light tracked it as it circled back around.

“They’re here,” announced the Master. “We must make ready.”





The double-door was octagonal and enormous, big enough for hovertanks to move through--- which was the idea. But it was no match for the blow of a fully charged Nth Metal-powered mace. The doors blew apart, scattering twisted hunks of debris across the cavernous garage bay as Hawkman, Black Lightning Red Tornado and Black Canary rushed in.

H.I.V.E. drone-soldiers stormed into battle, firing energy weapons, and taking cover behind high-tech armaments no national military possessed. Hawkman flew in an evasive pattern, engaging the airbound automated drones, with one hand smashing them with his mace, with the other firing a snub-nosed Thanagarian blaster. Red Tornado rode into a cluster of soldiers on a cyclone of wind and scattered them. Black Lightning fired arcs of electricity at another group, stunning them even in their insulated armor. Black Canary wove among their enemies, too fast for them to catch her, lashing out and striking hard, shattering faceplates with precisely-timed blows, and unleashing her sonic scream in tightly focused blasts to devastating effect.

As frontal assaults go, it was fairly effective. Within minutes, most of the resistance was flattened, and Hawkman landed next to the others. They were barely out of breath when the last of their foes retreated from the garage bay.

“Atom, we’ve breached the Nest,” Hawkman spoke into his wrist communicator. “Are you and your team in position?” Black Lightning and the two former Outsiders waited anxiously with him for the response.

“Thanks to some joint molecular manipulation, we are now inside, but I have a couple of new friends who never want to do that again,” the Atom’s voice crackled over the comm, but the sound of wretching could be heard in the background. “It takes some getting used to,” The Atom explained, then returned to business. “Zatanna says she has a lock on him. We’re headed there now. Burn this Nest out, Hawkman. Meet you at the exfiltration point. And don’t worry, Canary, well bring him out.”

“Save a piece of Doctor Light for me, guys,” Black Canary was deadly serious.

Hawkman terminated the comm. “You heard the man, folks. Let’s burn out this Nest.”





“Snug llaf trapa!” Zatanna pointed with the fingers of both hands at the line of incoming H.I.V.E. drone soldiers. The laser rifles in their hands suddenly stopped working, barrels, stocks and cartridges falling off them, the clatter echoing in the wide corridor. Before they could recover from the surprise, Huntress leaped up, grabbed a low-hanging pipe and swung into their midst, kicking with both feet, laying out the first pair. She landed at a crouch and swept out the feet of two more before springing up again with a roundhouse punch that laid out another. Barely a pace behind Huntress, the Atom shrank in a molecular dazzle down to a speck and bound with all the velocity and mass of his full 180 pounds into the last standing drone, knocking him out.

He returned to his full size just as Huntress delivered a final kick to a drone trying to rise. Zatanna called to them from further down the corridor, “This way, hurray!”

They ran down the hallway. An explosion rocked the installation, causing the floor to tilt. Klaxon alarms sounded.

“That would be Katar and the others.” Atom told them. “Subtlety is not a strong suit of a Thanagarian.”

“It’s not a virtue Black Canary shares, either,” Huntress shot back with a crooked smile.

Zatanna halted in front of an octagonal door, waving one hand and uttering a single word, “Nepo. Nepo!” But the door did not budge.

Without a word, the Atom activated his size control, shrinking, shrinking, shrinking down to a microscopic level. At that size, he was born aloft by the smallest stir in air currents, by the breath of his companions, or the wind of their slightly-moving limbs. The modifications he’d recently made to the micro-circuitry of his costume allowed him to ride the buffeting waves of subatomic particles like a body-surfer, so he literally flew between the imperceptible space between the door and floor. He emerged on the other side and sprang back to full-size. The room was awash in pulsing white light, making it hard for him to see anything. He fumbled awkwardly for the controls to open the door, and must have hit it blindly, because it whooshed open and Huntress and Zatanna rushed in.

“You’re just in time, heroes!” came the high, hysterical tones of Doctor Light. He was barely visible in the shimmering haze of white-hot light bathing the room. Green Arrow was a barely perceptible emerald blur behind him, struggling feebly in his chains. “Just in time to die with Green Arrow!”





Black Lightning unleashed a full charge into the power core of the H.I.V.E. installation. In the ruins of the smoking and smashed command center, the lights flickered and went out. All was dark until the emergency generators kicked in and the floodlights came on. “This joint’s dead as a doornail now,” Lightning turned to Hawkman, who nodded with satisfaction.

Across the room, Black Canary had a purple-robed H.I.V.E. Master pinned against a wall with the flat of her foot against his neck, maintaining the sidekick that was slowly choking him. “I’ll only ask this once: who the hell are you people, and what’s your game?”

The Master did not struggle. “We are the H.I.V.E. The Hierarchy for International Vengeance and Extermination. We have come to destroy the superheroes. We will show the world you can be defied. That you can be defeated. That you can be destroyed.”

“You mean kinda like what we’re doing to you today?” snarled Black Canary.

“This base is unimportant,” said the Master. “I am unimportant. We have served our purpose. The collective survives and our Queen will triumph.”

The dispassionate fatalism in his unearthly voice horrified Black Canary. She lowered her leg, allowing the Master to slump slowly to the floor. She turned, wordless, to Hawkman. Realization was dawning on the Thanagarian’s face.

“We’ve got to get out of here,” he said, and swore under his breath. “Red Tornado, find the others and help them evac back to the exfil point. The rest of us, we have to get these drone soldiers out of here, too. Let’s move!”

In a burst of wind, the android rode out of the command center, leaving the others behind to wonder if it already wasn’t too late.





“Atom, find Green Arrow and get the hell out of there! It’s a trap!” Hawkman’s voice crackled over the Atom’s comm, causing Doctor Light to laugh all the harder.

“Too little, too late, heroes!” He cawed. The power radiated off him in waves, washing out all color and distinct images in the room. It kept the Atom, Huntress and Zatanna at bay like the willpower-generated light constructs of a Green Lantern’s power ring. And it felt like it was building to some horrible climax. “My new friends have enhanced my powers! I’m super-saturated with photons and in seconds my body will explode with the force of a nuclear reaction! I’ll long be remembered as the man who killed so many so-called heroes! I’ll go down in---.”

Squinting against the radiance, Huntress raised her crossbow and fired. The bolt whizzed past Doctor Light, missing him by a foot or more.

“Ha!” He was wild-eyed and feverish, the power welling within him about ready to tear him apart. “You missed!”

Huntress lowered her weapon and said, so low he barely heard her: “No. I didn’t.”

Green Arrow, the rope suspending him from the ceiling cut by Huntress bolt, reared up behind the momentarily confused Doctor Light and came down with a two fisted hammerblow on the back of the villain’s neck. Light crumpled to the floor without a sound, unconscious.

But the waves of light pouring from him did not abate; if anything, they sputtered and grew fiercer.

The Atom assessed the situation quickly, and yelled, “Zatanna, teleport him out of here!”

Zatanna looked helpless, but before she could answer, Green Arrow called to them in a hoarse voice, “She can’t. Her magic doesn’t work on unwilling living things.” He raised his head to them, his eyes fully dilated and unseeing. “He’s going to blow any second. I’m sorry guys. I’m sorry I brought you here. Please tell me Dinah isn’t here, too…”

Before any of them could answer, Red Tornado gusted into the room, taking in the scene instantly. “Zatanna, an exit, if you please?” his voice was as calm as if he were asking her to pass the soup.

She complied without question. “Llaw kaerb nepo!” She jabbed a finger at the far wall, and a blast of magical might blew a hole right through it. A mountain vista opened up before them, and the chill air of the Canadian Rockies wafted in.

Red Tornado did not hesitate. He extended his arms and twin cyclones of force came from them. He aimed them at Doctor Light, and they scooped the body up, and carried him right out of the room. He tumbled end over end out of the installation, out into the open air, borne over the mountains by the artificial wind, flaring and blazing and then---

The entire mountainside shook with the detonation. The explosion was seen from miles away, and avalanches were set off across the range. And when the light died down, Doctor Light was gone.


5.

Not long after, on a crisp and clear Autumn morning, a press conference was held on the south lawn of the White House. It was a large gathering, attended by the leadership of both Houses of Congress and all the major news outlets covered it.

On the grandstand were gathered eight heroes and one Air Force colonel: Hawkman, Green Arrow, Black Canary, Zatanna, the Atom, Black Lightning, Huntress, Red Tornado and Colonel Kyle Morgan.

“I’m not sure how I feel about this,” Black Lightning said under his breath, looking out over the crowds of people gathered before them.

“Well, I’m sure how I feel about it: it stinks.” Muttered Green Arrow. He had his arms crossed and stood with an easy confidence despite his blindness. It had been several days since his blinding by Doctor Light, and still his sight had not fully returned. He disdained the injury by replacing his domino mask with a green blindfold, and showing off to the others that he could still hit a moving target with his other highly attuned senses.

“Then why are you here, Queen?” Hawkman shot back, looking every inch the warrior in his Thanagarian armor.

Green Arrow grunted. “Somebody’s got to keep an eye on you, Hol.”

“Boys, please.” Black Canary maintained her smile as she posed for a few still photographs. “Can we do this later?”

“Oh, let them go at it,” Huntress almost cracked a smile. “All that testosterone in the air is refreshing.” The mocking tone in her voice was lost on none of them.

“I, for one, think this is a great idea,” the Atom said, enjoying the moment and waving to folks out in the crowd. “And one long overdue.”

“You would,” grumbled Green Arrow. “You’ve never been an Outsider.”

“No,” Zatanna mused aloud. “But I have. And perhaps it’s time to try to work from within the system, Ollie. There’s a lot of good to be done.”

“And a lot of opportunities for abuse,” Green Arrow noted pointedly.

“That is why,” Red Tornado’s mechanical voice held a warmth and optimism usually only associated with humanity. “We must believe in each other. Stand up with and for each other, and fight for what we believe in.”

Green Arrow turned his sightless face towards the android, one eyebrow raised.

“Nicely put, Red Tornado,” approved Colonel Kyle Morgan. The Air Force man regarded them proudly. “I know a thing or two about living on borrowed time, and after run-in with the H.I.V.E., I’d say we have a once in a lifetime opportunity here. Let’s make the most of it.” A hush fell over the crowd. “Here comes the president.”

President Jeb Stuart took the podium at the front of the grandstand and addressed the crowd. “Good morning,” smiled the old war hero. “For too long we have neglected or outright mistrusted the selfless men and women who have risen up to defend us from threats criminal, cosmic or occult. From the persecution of the Justice Society of America by the House Un-American Activities Committee in the 50s, to the more recent Starro event that turned the Justice League into wanted fugitives. But time after time, they have proven themselves our friends and protectors. Our most loyal citizens and our most valuable resource. No more will we stand aside and see them reviled or attacked. Never again shall we cast them away or leave them on their own. From this moment forth, America embraces its heroes, and calls upon them to serve with pride the interests and values of our great nation. These eight individuals, born in battle and baptized in fire, have proven themselves worthy of this honor. To speak for them, I give you Hawkman!”

Enthusiastic applause greeted the Winged Avenger as he made his way to the podium to stand beside President Stuart.

“People of the United States,” he said into the microphone. “It is no secret that I am not of this world. I was born on Thanagar, a planet far away, and much different than Earth. But in my time here, I have come to cherish the values of my adopted home, and to hold them dear. I fight for them now. I would die for them. As would everyone one of us, including our liaison, Colonel Morgan.” He gazed out over the crowd, then back over his shoulder at his new teammates gathered there. Smiles and nods, even--- grudgingly--- from Green Arrow. Hawkman continued. “But there are many who don’t believe in what this nation stands for, in democracy, equality and the pursuit of justice. We will stand against those forces of chaos and evil. So, let wrongdoers take note, here and now: in the pursuit of justice, we will be the pursuers.”

He turned from the podium, and went to stand with his new-founded team. They gathered around him, as the press, electrified by Hawkman’s words, went wild with photographs and shouted questions. President Stuart stepped back to the microphone again. “Ladies and gentleman, people of the United States, I present to you your team of superheroes. I give you your new Justice League… of America!”