“…You really don’t smell it?” Weather Wizard twitched his head back in the direction of Keystone, sniffing the air again.
“Not that I don’t smell it, Marky-Mark,” corrected the Trickster, not even turning to look at his companion. “Just that I don’t
care. Ooh wow, there’s smoke in the Twin Cities. Whatever it is, I’m just glad it’s keeping Flasher’s attention away from us.” The two super-villains stood on the roof of an office block in mid Central City- the workers had gone home for the night and the building was currently dark. As were most of the buildings on the street- except of course, for the tall one across the street. Central City Hospital was open 24 / 7.
“Remind me again why we don’t just smash the entire place open?” Trickster asked mockingly, cocking his head as Mardon scanned the side of it through binoculars.
“Because we only want Flasher’s wife and kid. Nothing else,” Mardon snapped in reply.
“Oh, right, I forgot, your babymama’s still there! You know, you may as well just end it now, because she ain’t showing any signs of coming out of that sleepy-…”
“Shut up,” Mardon snarled. “Just shut up.” Silence fell for a moment, and Mardon twitched again, alert to the smoke that seemed to be growing. “Whatever it is that’s keeping Flasher busy….” He murmured. “It must be pretty important to keep him away from ‘em…”
“Pff,” Jesse snorted behind him. “In twenty minutes, his wife and kid will be stiffs and we’ll finally have beaten the smug son of a bitch. What the hell could be as important as this?”
* * *
I’m living in a nightmare.
Keystone City is burning down all around me, the result of an attack from an army of psychotic, ravaging monsters. Their leader- the one controlling them, the most savage beast on the planet, is named Grodd. He’s standing on top of a building one street away, and thirty seconds ago, he crushed a woman’s skull into pulp before my very eyes. And there’s absolutely nothing I can do to stop him.
Because thirty-
one seconds ago, I was struck by two
moremonsters- except these ones are actually human. They are Savitar and Lady Savitar, both endowed with the gift of speed, both utterly merciless. They are standing a few feet in front of me right now. And each of them is holding one of my parents, terrified, by the neck, threatening to kill them if I make so much as a move.
Screams and the crunch of bone sound from behind me. Acrid smoke and the foul stench of blood mingle in my nostrils.
It’s a nightmare. No, that’s not right. Never, not in my worst dreams, have I encountered anything this barbaric. If it is a nightmare, then it’s long, and it’s painful, and I know I’m never going to wake up. Because even if I do make it out of this, I will remember this night, these sounds, these smells, for the rest of my life.
“Your city or your life, Flash.” Savitar has just said. “Thawne told you this life would destroy you.” Now he stares at me, unrelenting, a trace of a smile on his face, and I feel a little more hate stir up within me. And I choose, so help me- I choose. Between the screams of my parents and the screams of the city around me. I choose, hating myself as I do it, and as I do, I realise something that unsettles me even further.
I will kill them if I have to. I shouldn’t think it, it goes against all the laws of being a hero, it’s our unspoken rule- we do not kill, ever. But if I have to, to end this insanity, to save lives, I know in this instant that I will anyway. And still I make my decision, because that’s what heroes do.
My name is Barry Allen- I’m the Flash, the Fastest Man Alive. And this is the worst night of my entire life.
* * *
Iris Allen moaned as she lay back in her bead, twitching, eyes tightly shut, her tired pants growing ever more urgent. She could hear the nurse and Joan talking to her, knew they were trying to soothe her, but she couldn’t listen to them, couldn’t thank them, she could barely concentrate over the pain. All she could think, as she clenched Joan’s hand ever more tightly, was that Barry should be there. It wasn’t right that he miss little Carrie’s birth, it wasn’t right that some trouble should keep them apart at this time- but if he wasn’t there, it wasn’t his fault. She knew that. If something was stopping him from being here, it had to be urgent. She opened her eyes for a moment as the pressure eased ever so slightly, knowing the relapse was momentary at best.
…And just there, at the foot of her bed, she could have sworn she saw him. No, she told herself, it was foolish, he wasn’t there at all- and anyone, the momentary flicker she had seen had golden, rather than red. But there it was again, just another flicker, a Flash but wearing inverted colours, and this time there was a whisper with it
“You’renext,Iris…”* * *
I turn to run away from my parents, despising myself with every fibre of my being, tears stinging my eyes, knowing that I’ve just killed them both. I try to tune out my mom’s shouts of horror- this nightmare must seem impossible, less than a minute ago she was in my dad’s car, driving for dear life to reach the hospital in time to see my daughter’s birth. My baby… my Carrie. She’ll never know her grandparents, never meet them, never be held by them. The Savitars have taken this away from me, from her, from them- the Savitars and
Eobard Thawne… My parents…. A thousand jumbled memories flash before my eyes, and even for me, the next second is an agony as I run to help save the people around me. No matter how much it kills me, there’s only one choice- I have to put the people of this city ahead of my own relatives, no matter… no matter how much it hurts…
…And then, just as Savitar’s eyes narrow and I see his fingers about to clench to extinguish my father’s life, two faster than light streaks blaze past my eye.
“We’vegotemBarry” come two voices, coming out as a jumbled mass as they are spoken from bodies travelling faster than the speed of sound. And then my parents are gone, as are the blazes of light, and the Savitars are left, standing confused and uncertain. Sudden hope wells within me as I hesitate for just a second. Could it be…. Can they have…?
And then suddenly Max Mercury and Johnny Quick are standing there again, my parents presumably deposited in the nearest safe location- and both of them look mad. About as mad as I’m feeling myself.
“Go for the gorillas, Barry. End this insanity,” snaps Johnny, rolling up one sleeve. “We’ll deal with these clowns.” Lady Savitar merely grins, flashing her teeth.
“Fools. You think yourselves unexpected? Thawne allowed you to enter these cities- and you will
all die tonight.”“I’ve been fightin’ people a lot worse than you for a lot longer than you’ve been alive, witch,” Max says steadily, totally unfazed. “So… we’ll see.” Four speedsters move at once, and I race away, heart pounding, into the chaos of blood and ruin that my city has become. I swear to myself that if I make it out of this, I will repay the two old speedsters somehow, some way, though it can never equal what they’ve done for me. And for now, I charge through fire towards the source of the horror.
Towards Grodd.
* * *
The stooped figure paused to sniff the air, eyes widening as he did so. Sm… smoke? Yes, it was smoke. It was. He knew it was. That meant… what did it mean? The saying, yes, the saying. He knew the saying. There was a saying, right? Yes, no smoke without… without what? Without spinning? Without fear? Former? No, he had been educated in a top college, he knew this, of course he did. So why couldn’t he…? FIRE. That was it. No smoke without fire.
Fire. Warm. Warm was the opposite of cold. Captain Cold. Rrrr. An evil man. He had to be destroyed, of course he did. That was the only thing he could remember, the only thing that he could retain, that penetrated the fog of haze that clouded the man’s brain. He began to make his way towards the bridges, towards the fire, perking up as he did so. He might find Captain Cold there, might be able to kill him at last. And when he did, the figure thought, contemplating his striped outfit for a moment, Captain Cold would learn the most important lesson in life-
No-one topped the Top….
* * *
Jay Garrick couldn’t move.
Lord knew he wasn’t a man lacking in willpower, but that didn’t seem to matter right now. He was straining, pushing with every muscle in his body- or trying to- aching to move, to run, to attack the small, leering man who now stood over the battered body of the teenage boy he had come to love as his own grandson, but it didn’t make a bit of difference- not all the willpower in the world would move him.
“Tell…me… Flash…..” came the panting, wheezing voice of one of the more disgusting villains Jay had ever had the misfortune to encounter. “How….does….it…feel…to…be…slow?” He wasn’t even able to turn his eyes to look at the Turtle as the revolting super-villain approached him as slowly as his namesake, but he could imagine the twisted grin that crossed his sleepy features. His speed. The Turtle had stolen his speed, all of it, leaving him as immobile as a statue- and unable to look away from, or intervene in, the scene playing itself out before him.
“Little Kid Flash,” sneered Doctor Spectro, kicking Wally West’s bruised side. He could hear the boy’s breathing, could see his chest rise and fall, but he was unconscious- the only mercy in this entire event. Barry… He prayed silently,
Barry, we need you. Barry, or Johnny, or Max or SOMEONE, help… Spectro knelt down beside the boy, looking at him for a moment. “So… this is what you like, is it, old man?” He mocked. “Get ‘em young? Is that why he has the spandex? Kinky stuff, eh?”
Every impulse in Jay’s body was screaming to move, to punch this creep out, to stop him. But his terrible, his unspeakable verbal assault continued, and Jay could not look away, could not stop it, could not stop listening. But Spectro soon grew bored with merely torturing Jay with his words- so he decided to torture them both. The twisted villain reached down to Wally’s hand, holding it up. “Look at this. One finger broken. At least it’s only one, right?” His grip tightened, Jay let out a silent scream, and even from his unconscious state, Wally moaned a little, and then-
*Crunch*“Uh-oh, make that two. Still, could be worse, right?”
*Crunch*Jay could hear the Turtle wheezing out a chuckle beside him, could see Spectro taking twisted pleasure from each further torture.
Stop…. he pleaded silently, unable to do anything but look on.
Please… you have to stop…. NOW… Jay Garrick had been the Flash for over fifty years, and never could he remember feeling such paralysis, such heart-rending pain and despair in the face of his own uselessness.
*Crunch** * *
“OH MAN, THIS IS THE LIFE!” roared Tar Pit, as the shouts of policemen sounded from all around him. He forced himself down the throat of another officer, oozing his gelatinous mass wherever he pleased, and having a great deal of fun in doing so. Out of the corner of one eye, he could see Murmur silence another policeman’s screams with a single flick of his knife.
All in all, Tar Pit thought, it hadn’t been a bad evening. Oh sure, it had been a bit boring at first- they had agreed to go to the hospital in Central and level it, after all, so other than anyone unfortunate enough to be in the street between Iron Heights and the hospital, there weren’t too many people to target. Until of course they hit the police cordon a block away from the hospital, and then the fun began. Keystone police had come too from the looks of it- that was fine by him, after all, they were the scum who had put him away.
Oozing over the remains of a man unfortunate enough to come into close combat with the massive Girder, he grabbed another officer who was firing ineffectually at him. He only had time to pin his arms before a rain of razor sharp cards ended the threat- Double Down had stolen his kill! Tar Pit had always been frustrated when that happened in video games, let alone real life, but he supposed there’d be plenty more to do before the night was over. The New Rogues weren’t exactly a close knit group, mind you- they’d take care of the hospital, and then they’d go their separate ways, but he was okay with that. Tonight was all about showing these cities what they got for putting them away…. And tonight would be a long, long night.
* * *
“You want me to
what?” Chief Clancy asked, aghast, but the two cops from Keystone were firm.
“You have to pull
everyone back. They’re only getting themselves killed in there.” Police Officer Morillo repeated, wiping perspiration from his brow. “Listen Chief, I know we can’t let these monsters escape but we can’t stop them, not like this. Most of them are impervious to bullets, and those that aren’t are faster and deadlier than our boys can…”
“I don’t think you understand, officers,” The Chief said, gesturing behind them. “They are
less than three blocks from the city hospital. If they decide to have their fun in there…”
“We know,” Officer Chyre interrupted roughly. “And we know all the Flashes are missing, but we have an idea. There’s a risk, but…”
“…We want to call in our mole.” Morillo cut him off. “Our inside man in… an outside organisation. We think they might have a personal affair at stake.”
The chief hesitated, and then suddenly realised what they meant. “You’re insane. Firstly, you’ll blow his cover, and secondly, we do NOT need them back. They’re just as bad…” The sounds of screams of pain mixed with screams of delight came from just a block or so over, reaching a crescendo.
“No, sir,” Chyre said steadfastly. “They’re not.”
* * *
A colossal, shaggy beast descends on me, slavering jaws wide in a shout of fury. I can see what I’m pretty sure is blood encrusting its teeth, but I don’t hesitate, delivering thirty punches to its chest before it can attack, and then moving on. There are more roars and cries around me, but I don’t allow myself to hesitate. I’ve dealt with these beasts before, and I know that they aren’t acting under their own free will. The only way to stop them all is to stop their leader.
“FLASH!”[/i] A voice bellows inside my head, and I duck a piece of falling masonry, dodging to one side and absorbing the kinetic energy of a hurled car so that it drops to the ground harmlessly, then run up the side of a house just in time to scoop up two falling terrified civilians and to deposit them on the now dubious safety of the ground below. I don’t reply, don’t allow my anger to take control of me- I have to be measured, I have to do this right. Another gorilla is on the verge of tearing off a man’s arm, but I vibrate myself through the nearest wall- causing it to explode and rain enough chunks of debris down on the monster that it lets go of the man in pain and confusion.
“ARE YOU COMING TO ME, FLASH? ARE YOU GIVING ME THE PLEASURE OF FEASTING ON YOUR FLESH?”[/i]
Yes, Grodd, I think to myself.
I’m coming for you. But you won’t be eating more flesh, not today, not ever in this city. And I will avenge each and every person you have murdered here today- by yourself or through these poor enslaved creatures. I grab a young child under my arm, zipping across the street to return him to his wailing mother, and pause long enough to run a miniature tornado around the fire engulfing the nearest building, wiping it out. I can see Grodd now, see him roaring in the square ahead, standing on the burnt out hulk of a car, bellowing his challenge- a challenge I intend to meet in full. Finally, I zoom into the middle of the square.
“FLASH!”[/i] He greets me.
“SO YOU’VE…”[/i] I slam into him before he can finish, and the fight is on.
* * *
It had been over fifty years since Max Mercury fought a fellow speedster in a faster than sound battle- consciously at least.
Ironic, he thought.
I never figured that when I did it again, it would be the same guy. He could see Savitar snarling, though he couldn’t hear his threats at the speed they were travelling- though he could imagine them well enough. The two blazed through the streets of the Twin Cities, crossing and criss-crossing them dozens of times in minutes. Images flashed before Max’s eyes- fires, gorillas, Barry battling away, police, villains, chaos, Jay in trouble…. He wished he could do something to help, could stop, could intervene, but any second he took to do so was a second in which Savitar would wreak further havoc.
The younger man was letting him chase him, was deliberately fleeing from him, turning only occasionally to administer a rapid attack, or a feint, or to alter his direction and try and lose Max. If it came down to a battle of stamina in the end, then Max knew he could not win, but he persevered, not showing it for an instant- he would die before he betrayed any weakness. His only hope was to convince Savitar that his resolve came from confidence, and force him into a straight-up fight… and even then, Max didn’t fancy his chances.
It was all about time… whether or not he could reach him, could stop him, before Jay, or Barry, or Wally, or the police, or anyone else, were beyond help. And time was something he was rapidly running out of.
* * *
With roars of triumph, the New Rogues stormed into Central City Hospital’s lobby. It had been emptied of nurses and doctors, Tar Pit was disappointed to see. An evacuation? Probably. Not like it mattered- they couldn’t possibly have evacuated all the wards, and there’d be more than enough patients left. He did not think of himself as a sadistic man- he wouldn’t enjoy killing women and kids the way he did the men. But whoever had freed them from prison had been very clear- women and babies especially had to die at the hospital, and Tar Pit figured he owed the guy that much. So it would happen.
The elevators were probably busted, so he headed for the stairs, the other New Rogues with him. He could see the Clown racing ahead, gun in the air, followed closely by the massive, brutal Razorback. Both of them were grinning, but hey, whatever, Tar Pit wasn’t about to make any judgements. Kobra’s rasping pants sounded from his right, and with Double Down and Murmur in hasty pursuit, the entire group broke onto the right floor almost as one.
* * *
“Let’s go!” hissed Trickster, tugging on Weather Wizard’s arm, his voice nearly a frenzy. The two had just broken into the hospital, hiding in a room opposite Iris Allen’s, when the chaos on the street below had sounded, and the New Rogues had stormed into the building. Obviously others had their information too.
“Now!” James hissed, but Mark hesitated, a sudden thought springing into his mind.
“Lisa…” he whispered. His own former girlfriend, Lisa Snart, lying in a coma and pregnant with his own baby… just a few doors down from Iris. And these psychos weren’t known for their restraint….
“LET’S GO!” Trickster howled in his ear, and then the doors to the ward burst open and the vicious crooks stormed in, grins plastered on their faces, weapons raised. And Mark Mardon looked up, eyes crackling with lightning. “No,” He said quietly. Then he stood, using his wand to levitate his body from the ground and conjuring a miniature hurricane with crashing lightning around himself. A nurse was screaming, and a sharpened card flew through the air towards her…. Only to be snatched aside by a gust of wind.
The glass shattered and the Weather Wizard floated out, hardened resolve on his face.
“This ward,” He said quietly. “Is off
limits.”
* * *
“What’s going on out there?” growled Ira West, standing and taking a step towards the door, but Joan took his arm with her free hand, holding him back. He continued to stare, blinking and wide-eyed through the glass pane in the door. “Good…Lord…” He turned back to where the nurse was huddled over Iris, sharing a glance with Joan. “We need to move her! Now! Nurse, can my daughter be taken out of here safely?”
“Taken out of…” the nurse gasped, as Iris’ cries sounder louder- though they were now drowned out by the tumult sounding from the corridor behind them. “Mister West, your daughter is
having a baby.”“I know that,” he snapped, throwing a glance back over his shoulder as the room itself seemed to shake and- was that a hurricane in the corridor? Dammit, where was his son-in-law when he was needed? Why could he never seem to be on time? “But pandemonium’s broken loose out there and…”
“No, Mister West, you don’t understand….” The nurse tried to explain, bending over Iris as she let out a fresh moan. “I mean
right now. Mister West, your grandchild’s already on it’s way out. It’s being born
now.”
* * *
“Weak,” Lady Savitar’s fist smashed into Johnny Quick, causing him to sprawl backwards- a fall he arrested swiftly, but not swiftly enough to avoid another crushing punch to the gut. “How feeble. You’re tired, old man, while I am fresh.” She was gone before Johnny could retaliate, and he stayed on his guard, fists raised, looking around him. Their chase had taken him to the centre of the Walther B. Hudfield Bridge, which meant she could only come at him from one of two sides. A mistake- she had made a mistake at last.
“Maybe….” He growled. “But this old man isn’t done yet.” Suddenly, he drove his elbow backwards at the speed of sound, in time to catch the incoming Lady Savitar in the chest- hard. It wasn’t right to hit a lady, but whatever her name, this gal wasn’t any lady. He spat in triumph, and then raised a fist to bring down a blow on her, but she had recovered before he could, and drummed a series of punches into his head at sonic speeds, so that he couldn’t see clearly. Then she was gone, and before he could recover, she had smashed into him again, leaving him to stagger backwards.
“Yes,” her voice came. “He is.”
With a crack, she hit him so hard in the jaw that he actually fell to the ground, stunned. She smirked down at him.
“And it’s only a matter of time before you realise it…”
* * *
Mark Mardon’s anger quickly turned to desperation as the New Rogues piled on him. He blasted The Clown away with a bolt of lightning, but even his quick thinking was not able to stop the Girder from smashing him to the ground with one huge fist, dizzying him. He tried to conjure up a hurricane to give him some breathing space but they were relentless, with Tar Pit’s thick form forcing its way through in bits and pieces, and then re-massing to attack him.
Mardon had spent his entire life thinking about himself, acting entirely out of self interest. He had cut throats and done things he wasn’t proud of, and he had joined the Rogues- and betrayed them- whenever he saw the chance to profit. He had always put himself ahead of everything else. Which is why it was ironic that now, when he was finally acting to save
others, he was going to die. Here. Now.
Somehow, he’d never figured it would be like this….
* * *
Ouch. Okay, so slamming into an I-don’t-even-want-to-guess-how-many-ton gorilla, not a good idea. Duly registered. I can hear him shouting, but I’m filtering it out, my blood racing. There are screams everywhere, and the street is slippery- I don’t even want to speculate what with. And on top of all this pandemonium, there’s that trouble with Wally, and my wife is giving birth right now, and I will
notmiss my daughter’s birth. I will be there to see Carrie.
But it’s already been at least ten minutes, and nothing I can do seems to be hurting Grodd at all. I try to launch another volley of punches at him, but he shakes them off as if they were nothing and lashes out with surprising speed- I barely avoid it. I try to duck under him and lead him away, but he roars and lashes out again- and this time, he draws flesh. I feel his claws cut deep into my shoulder and barely refrain from shouting out in pain. Oh God… I’m scarcely up to fighting him normally. With so much else on my mind, I can’t… I can’t…
“GIVE IN”[/i] the words pound themselves into my skull. I try to shake my head, to clear them, but my senses are overwhelmed, and my shoulder is still flaring in pain. Too late, I remember to run, but Grodd grabs me, and he’s too strong for me to break out of. I squirm, shouting incoherently as I try to escape, but he’s holding me tighter now, raising me, his red eyes glinting with animal malice. I see him raise his other hand- he’s planning to pop my head as he did with that poor woman, and there’s nothing I can do.
My head is pounding ever more. Roars and screams and flames are fighting for my attention, and I can feel his iron grip upon me, and in my head, all I can see are images of my family screaming, of them in pain, of them being killed by his monstrous army as so many others are dying right now… why can’t I get rid of them? Why can’t I clear my mind? Why can’t I think? But it… Carrie… no, I can’t allow myself to… I can’t allow myself to… but I… I have to… a red mist is descending over my vision and I have to….
“GIVE IN.”[/i]
* * *
Jay stared, his face still impassive, at the madness unfolding before him as Spectro continued his assault upon the helpless boy. He was not by nature an emotional man, but if he could have, he would have wept at that moment. Wally had done nothing-
nothing to deserve the vindictive, cruel and cowardly attack… nothing except be a member of the Flash Family. He could still smell smoke, and knew that Barry must be dealing with chaos elsewhere… he could only thank the Lord that Joan was safe at the hospital, for it didn’t seem that he or the boy he loved as his own grandson would survive the night.
And then, to his shock, he found that there were tears in his eyes.
He was crying. That meant…. He tested, ever so slightly, by trying to move his little finger, and his eyes flickered over to the Turtle, salivating over the boy’s pain. The wretched old creature was distracted! There was a chance… a slim chance. He gathered up everything he had in him…
…And then in a blaze of light, he dashed towards the disgusting little brute, pounding him, pounding him with everything in his body. He knew that if he didn’t, then he would be frozen again, knew that they would lose everything, that the boy would die. Normally, Jay pulled his punches but here he held nothing back, allowing himself to vent every inch of the frustration and pain and torment he had just felt upon this brute.
Not… to…him…. You do not… do that…to…the…boy… He poured himself out, exhausting himself with a thousand blows per instant, praying it would be enough, praying…
And then the Turtle fell to the ground, and a surge of hope welled within him. He whirled to the stunned Doctor Spectro, leaping towards him, knowing he could do it…
…when suddenly he found himself nearly pitching forwards. He tried to move, but found his legs were stuck, and he couldn’t left them. In horror, he looked down…. To see that the earth beneath his feet had turned to quicksand.
“Game over, my dear man,” Doctor Alchemy smiled apologetically from the shadows, raising the Philosopher’s Stone. “A nice gamble… but I’m afraid you lose. You may continue, Doctor Spectro.”
* * *
Mark was unable to get up and they were piling closer now- a gunshot from the Clown took him in the shoulder so that he nearly dropped his wand, yelling in pain. Before he could recover, razor cards from Double Down slashed across his cheek- he could feel his blood hitting the ground, and the laughing… he could just hear the laughing.… With a roar of effort, he let fly a colossal torrent of lightning, blasting the corridor apart and hurling them backwards. Every door in the ward was blown from it’s hinges and he screaming sounded- the last thing he heard before a flick of a knife from Murmur caught him in the side of the head.
Now all he could hear was the pounding of blood inside his skull- and, more worryingly, outside it. He took a few halting steps back, feeling dizzy, and looked up. The faces of the New Rogues leered at him- they were anticipating his fall. Razorback was roaring, though Mark could hear none of it, and all he could think was that in one of the rooms around him was Flasher’s wife. He had come here to kill a pregnant lady, and now he’d die for one. Now that he really thought about it in perspective, it sickened him. Would he really have done it? Would he have killed a woman and a baby? He didn’t like to think so but…. But… somehow it didn’t matter now anyway. He just hoped Golden Glider survived somehow. And, come to think of it, he hoped Flasher’s girl did too. However impossible that might be.
The Weather Wand slipped from his nerveless fingers. As he sank to his knees, he belatedly wondered if this made him a hero…. Heh… a hero… imagine what the gang would have said about that.
* * *
As Mark collapsed to the ground, straining to maintain consciousness, the Clown stepped forwards and placed his gun right up to his head- as always, he was smiling. Beside him, Double Down juggled with the cards that made up his skin, grinning himself, already looking ahead to the wards behind. Weather Wizard had delayed them, nothing more. “And you call yourself a villain. Lookitya, ya disgrace.”
“He’s just a traitor,” Tar Pit grunted. “Finish him.”
The Clown’s finger moved to the trigger- when suddenly, both the gun and his hand turned ever so slightly blue. He frowned down at them for a moment- and then he gave a howl of pain as both broke cleanly from his wrist and fell to shatter on the ground into a thousand shards of ice.
“Sure he’s a traitor,” growled a gruff voice. “But he’s one of us. And the Rogues take care of their own.” And the New Rogues turned as one to see Captain Cold, Heatwave, Captain Boomerang and the Pied Piper standing defiantly, weapons raised. Behind them, the Mirror Master finished extracting himself from the remaining intact window, twirling his mirror gun merrily.
“Och, ye’re in trouble now….”
