Suicide Squad (31 page)

Harley shivers in anticipation. “I’ll make your favorite potato knishes. Good luck, honey.”

“I don’t need luck, honey. Not when I’ve got you.”

Harley stands on the tip of her toes and kisses him. Jo starts to leave, but stops as he remembers to take his tablet. He scoops it up and exits. Grinning ear to ear, Harley holds herself and giggles.

What a great life.

* * *

Rick Flag is fast asleep in the California king as the dreams begin. Suddenly, he screams and starts to grunt and throw wild punches.

“Rick. Honey. Rick,” June says, worried as she tries to shake her husband awake. “Wake up. Please wake up.”

Flag draws in a deep gasp and looks around, confused. June cradles him like he is a child.

“It’s okay, honey. You’re here. You’re with me.” Flag stares at her as the world begins to make some sense. “You were having a bad dream.”

“Just a dream?” he asks. “It was so real.”

He reaches up and sweetly brushes the back of his hand across her face. He loves her and is forever grateful she loves him back.

* * *

Digger Harkness sits cross-legged in the outback, his hands on his knees. His eyes are closed. He is listening to the sounds of the night, feeling that same sense of serenity he had experienced when he was all of fourteen. That spiritual walkabout took him nearly four months to complete, and once he returned home he thought he could hold onto that wonderful peace and it would guide him into adulthood.

His life since then has been harsh and violent, and he decides, finally, to do something about it.

He opens his eyes and looks behind him, to the fire he built. Hundreds of his boomerangs are on fire, roasting inside the inferno, blackening the weapons he once held so dear, turning them into soft, crumbling ash.

“No more death,” he says to himself. “Never again.” He closes his eyes and accepts the night. This time, perhaps, life will not be so cruel.

* * *

The TV is droning on and on but Diablo has stopped watching and listening. He doesn’t need to be entertained. All he cares about is nestling with his kids who are sleeping on the couch next to him.

They are both so beautiful and so innocent and he loves them more than he ever thought he could love anyone.

Grace enters the TV room and sets a beer on the coffee table next to him. She looks at her sleeping kids and smiles at him. She is so proud of them, and so happy to be with him.

“Help me put them to bed?”

He stares at her and then the kids. Something is wrong, and he’s not quite certain why.

“Babe, what is it?” she asks him. “You look, dare I say it, troubled?”

He keeps staring at her. He gets up and steam begins to bubble up from his skin. The wallpaper behind him blisters from the heat. He looks down at the table and the beer is boiling.

“You’re scaring me,” Grace says, reaching to pull the kids away.

Diablo stares at her and screams.

“I can’t change what I did, and neither can you.”

* * *

The whiteness dissolved, replaced by harsh reality.

“What the hell happened?” Harley asked. The others looked like they were all coming out of the same trance.

Diablo knew better, though. He had broken free on his own. He accepted the truth of what he was, and he never tried to hide from it.

“It’s not real,” he shouted. “No matter how good it felt, you don’t want it. We shouldn’t have it.”

Harley crouched, her face hidden behind her hands.

“Speak for yourself, Torchy. You shoulda seen my place. It coulda been the life.”

“No,” Diablo said. “Whatever you saw belonged to another. Before your path changed. Even if you were to change, and fully embrace it, that way is gone. You would have to build a different road.” He stepped from the shadows.

The others joined him. They saw Enchantress stare at them, intrigued that her illusion had been so easily pierced.

“How long have you been able to see, Fire Man?”

“My whole life,” Diablo said. “Look, lady, they’re with me. You can’t have them.”

Enchantress laughed and smiled at him.

“But it is our time. The sun is setting and magic is rising. The metahumans are but the first sign of the change, my friend.”

Diablo stepped closer, not at all intimidated by her power.

“I’m not your friend. I know what you are, and like me, you’re not supposed to be here.”

Enchantress frowned at his insolence. “Stop talking,” she ordered. “This should be simple. Are we friends or are we foes? And remember, we are not the ones who caged you.”

* * *

Deadshot stared. She was the face of the enemy and there was no way they would ever stand side by side.

“I’m a bad guy, yeah, but you, lady, you want to destroy my world,” he said. “You are evil.”

The others stood beside him. They were together in this.

Enchantress glanced up to the window. There was a glowing light in the distance.

“Brother, you were right. The pets won’t turn on their masters. So go ahead. Break their necks, but try not to disturb me. The machine requires my full attention now.” She turned back to finish working on her machine as Incubus appeared.

“You do what you need to, sister. I will destroy our enemies.”

“You are a dear, brother,” she replied, and she smiled. “Have fun.”

He marched to the colonnade, his magic armor fanning like a cobra hood. “I’ve been waiting for this for so very long.” His eyes glowed. A tentacle shot from his hands and slammed into the stone column, shattering it.

Flag hit his comm and screamed into it.

“GQ. You in position? GQ? Copy.”

They waited, but they heard nothing. Deadshot looked at Flag and shrugged.

“Your plan sucks. Just saying it.”

“Guys,” Harley shouted. “The big kahuna’s doing it again. Just letting you know.”

Incubus was powering up.

GQ was dressed in neoprene from head to toe, but he was still freezing as he swam through the flooded subway tunnels. His hood was firmly in place and he checked the collar of his wetsuit for leaks.

He felt cold splash against his neck. It was virtually impossible to create a perfect closure, but after nine years as a Navy SEAL, he was pretty sure he could deal with it.

The other SEALs followed behind. Gomez tapped his foot and pointed to the right. A half-dozen EAs were speeding toward them, knives held in crusted gnarled hands. The SEALs pulled out their own, and prepared for the fight.

Blades hacked and slashed, cutting through the neoprene. Through flesh. Through crusted skin and twisted bone.

GQ jerked back as an assailant’s knife tried to slice through his air line. He twisted until he was able to thrust his own blade up into the thing’s throat, lodging into its neck bone. GQ sawed the blade until he was able to yank it free, and watched as the EA fell back and floated off in a fountain of red.

Gomez wrestled with two EAs. GQ turned to assist, but before he could, one of the creatures thrust its knife into the soldier’s heart. His friend was dead before he could swim to help him.

Kowalski was fending off an attack. An EA clawed at his face, then ripped through his regulator. Streams of compressed air exploded from the hacked tube. The SEAL kept fighting, even as he ran out of air. Finally he went limp.

GQ dived at the thing that killed Kowalski, and stabbed it through its neck. In another time it might have been one of his men, someone he’d fight to protect, but that person was gone, and he desperately wanted to make certain his friends’ memories wouldn’t be sullied.

He cut at the creature, sawed through flesh and cartilage until its head fell from its neck and sank to the subway tracks below.

He was gasping for more air than his regulator would permit and he struggled to control his breathing. He closed his eyes and took long, steady, calming breaths. When he opened them again, he was alone, surrounded by broken combatants.

He wanted to swim to his men and carry their bodies back to the surface, but he knew that wasn’t going to happen. Now, or ever. The demo charge was still waiting for him, and if fortune was on their side, the blast would be powerful enough to destroy Incubus.

Which meant it would kill him, too.

Enchantress glanced up from the machine to watch Incubus, calmly firing his deadly energy at Flag and his Squad. His smile warmed her. He enjoyed playing with these children, firing his bolts closer and closer, but not yet hitting them. He’d kill them soon enough, but first he wanted to have some fun.

He’d been asleep for so long.

“Brother, enjoy yourself, but can you please be a bit quieter?” Enchantress asked. “This is a delicate instrument. I need to test it without you rattling the rafters. Maybe you should just kill them and be done with it.”

Incubus disagreed. “The humans no longer worship us as they once did. They even believe we are not gods. Sister, they have to pay for their affronts.”

“Fine,” she replied. “Hunt them down and torture them if it will make you happy—but for now, do it quietly.”

Incubus prepared to fire another tendril, but then decided not to. He was powerful enough that he didn’t need mystical incantations to destroy them. What he wanted now was a little physical exercise.

Enchantress stepped back and admired her machine. Giant black gears snapped into place, increasing the energy that fed the machine.

“It’s my turn now, brother. I am the power that empowers my machine. My life gives it its strength. Watch me and rejoice.” She smiled, then dropped her arms.

The machine opened its maw and swallowed its black smoke. Its gears kept turning and grinding and convulsing. Then, magical energy erupted from the machine and blew an outsized hole through the station roof.

“Brother, it has begun,” she cried. “This world will again be ours.” Bolts of lightning crackled through the shattered roof, angled toward the ring of street debris orbiting the station. Hurricane winds slammed the train station. They were now in the eye of a super storm.

Enchantress’s machine was a long-range weapons system, powered not by electricity, but by magic that had been forgotten millennia ago. Magic the modern world could no longer combat.

* * *

GQ swam to the surface and pulled himself up to the platform. He keyed in his comm.

“Rick? You up?”

Flag’s voice was loud and clear. “Yeah. We’re inside. You in position?”

“Negative,” GQ answered. “They’re down here. My guys are gone.”

“Hell. I’m sorry, man, but you gotta get to the southeast corner. We’ll drive him to you. Make it happen.”

“You got it, Flag. Take care.”

“Yeah. My thoughts are with you. Hell, the thoughts of everyone here are with you.”

GQ slipped his comm back into its case.
This is happening now. If it works, it’ll soon be over.
He hesitated a moment longer, then he took a deep breath and moved on. If he wanted to help save the world, he didn’t have any other choice. This was exactly what he had signed on for.

There was a heavy, thudding noise coming from behind him. Something was moving through the flooded tunnel.

Dammit. No. Not more of those monsters. His strength was mostly gone and he wasn’t sure he could fight anything else. He reached for his pistol and turned to face them. If he had to die he’d take out as many as he could.

A big hand grabbed him at his wrist. He felt its scales cut into him.

Croc.

GQ looked at him and opened fire. Not at Croc but at the EA surfacing behind him, shredding it. So many shots that his pistol was hot.

Croc pulled himself out of the water and looked at the corpse floating into the tunnel.

“Who else is dead?” Croc asked.

“I’m all that’s left. And you.”

“Sorry about that, man. This is all bad. Real bad.”

“You don’t have to tell me, but I’m glad you’re here. Can you help get me down this tunnel?”

“Follow me,” Croc answered. “And I’m glad you made it, too. C’mon.” He dived back into the tunnel. GQ followed. He wasn’t sure when his reality changed, but Croc had somehow become his brother-in-arms, and he was damn happy about it.

Diablo was in pain. His family was dead and nobody could bring them back. They’d never know if he was good or bad. They’d never know if he tried to save the world or condemned it to its own slow, painful death.

Deadshot was wrong. This wasn’t on them. This was on him. His wife and kids would never know what he did, and they’d never care—but he knew they’d want him to prove to himself that he wasn’t just the monster who slaughtered the only people who ever loved him.

He had to prove to himself that he was worth their love. Diablo looked at Deadshot and nodded.

“Thanks, brother. I got this.” He stepped into the light and walked up behind Incubus. “Hey, fool. You lookin’ for me? Well, I’m over here. So let’s do this.”

Incubus turned to face him. “You are right, burning man,” he said. “Let’s do this.”

Diablo’s arm shot out and whipped a blast of fire into Incubus’s face.

“That the best you have?” Incubus said, shrugging it off, grinning at his opponent. His armor rippled and dispersed the heat. “You are trying to fight a god, but there is no way you can survive, let alone be victorious.”

Incubus suddenly lunged and slammed Diablo into the station wall. The impact blinded him with pain. He yelped then slipped to the ground, unconscious.

Their most powerful warrior was downed even before he could throw the first punch.

“Well,” Harley said, looking lost and frightened. “No way that went well.”

Incubus turned to the others and gestured for them to come at him. He now had more toys with which to play, and he couldn’t wait. The battle was just beginning.

* * *

GQ was almost in position. He glanced to his side and saw Croc swimming next to him. Somehow it gave him the confidence to go on, and yet when he thought about it, SEAL and monster made for a crazy pairing.

He’d gotten used to the scales and spikes, but he still laughed at the crazy villain name and the wild images it conjured in his mind. For some reason super-villains adopted bizarre code names like Croc. Deadshot. Boomerang. Then again, the heroes did, too.