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[gagx]

The Suicide Squad: Montana Madness Part 3 (finale)

For Part 1, Click Here

For Part 2, Click Here

Location: Blue Dawn Ranch, Montana

Time: 21.9.8 20:46 PM MDT

Victoria sipped on brandy with Arnold and Sarno in Arnold’s kitchen. The presentation went well. Everyone knew their parts and the mission would commence within the next 72 hours once intel had been confirmed. She was proud to lead these men, and grateful that she had not had to prove herself. It had been a good while since she was shown the respect she deserved. She did not know if these men would survive her plan, as no mission, no matter how well thought out, went precisely as planned. This was especially true considering their goals. It would be difficult at best, but she admired their effort to keep casualties to a minimum.

She got up to get herself some more ice from the refrigerator. This was Arnold’s home. The majority of the land had been sold off to other farmers, but his parents before him kept a sizable estate for themselves. Arnold transformed this place into a place where others like him could come when they had nowhere else to turn--a place of peace for weary souls. All the men and women who were outside the window Victoria stood in front of as she sipped her third drink were here because they were loyal to Arnold, understood his position, and would follow him to the ends of the Earth. Victoria watched as two men walked off from the cabins to trade with men who were walking towards the cabin. The night shift was taking over the perimeter.

As Brooks and Cloud walked toward the perimeter, they began to place bets on how many planes they’d spot tonight. Brooks bet higher than he had the previous night after losing thirty bucks to Cloud. Cloud didn’t care about the actual number of planes that passed above so much as he cared whether or not he could goad Brooks into wagering more money than he actually had. They understood the seriousness of their job, but they both knew no one outside of this camp knew what was going on there. Guarding the perimeter was more of a precaution than a necessity, and it reminded them of their enlisted days. Neither missed those days or were thrilled to be doing this now, with their status as civilians. The night, like them, marched on.

They walked their path carefully. It wasn’t but a few weeks ago that they had helped bury some landmines for would-be enemies. Brooks didn’t think much of it beyond wanting to ensure not walking off the path, but Cloud had doubts about their necessity out of concern for local wildlife. He trusted Commander Schultz that the animals would be fine, but he remembered a time a deer had walked over one when he was deployed overseas. He tried not to remember the eyes of the fawn. He tried not to remember the smell even now.

Cloud looked up to see the thousands of stars in the sky. It never stopped being beautiful or full of possibility. Cloud always wondered if he’d meet one of the dozens of alien civilizations they now knew were just waiting out there. Would he get to go? He saw over to his right the blinking commercial lights of a domestic flight, and pointed it out to Brooks. One more and Brooks would lose.

What neither noticed was the telltale light wobble of a passing USAT. Luthorcop-manufactured for the USAF and other federal agencies, the sound-barrier breaking saucer-shaped United States Ariel Transport was capable of tactical invisibility, high-speed maneuverability beyond that of any jet, and armed with a tractor beam apparatus for quick release and retreat. This USAT circled the ranch and mapped the area with it’s sensors before circling back just ahead of the still oblivious Brooks and Cloud. Flag had the team gather up, then activated the tractor beam, and placed his team on the ground in a brief tunnel of magenta light.

Chase: Why aren’t you down here, Flag? I thought you were the agent in charge.

Flag: Three reasons--One, I am in charge from up here; two, I am air support in case any of you are incompotent and miss someone; and three, I don’t need to spend any more time with Boxy. You can have fun with him down there. Now go silent. You have two guards approaching. No gunfire yet.

Captain Kilgore walked away from the group a few feet and vomited a great deal--loudly. Strange and Chase looked at him in anger and disgust, and then quickly looked in the direction of the guards, trying to tell if their cover had been blown. A tense yet brief moment passed as they waited to see if the guards had heard, but nothing changed. They unclenched and watched as Boxy Foxy simply walked away in a straight line path towards the encampment with only the moonlight to guide him. Frustrated by their creepy, hulking teammate, Strange and Chase let it go and helped Kilgore to his feet. There was little they could or wanted to do about Boxy.

Chase (whispering): Are you telling me that the tiny bit of turbulence we had got to you? The guy who spent his life on boats?

Kilgore: Aye, lad. The seas can be choppy, but you can know it in your bones and steel yourself. That damned thing that carried us here is untrustworthy and unknowable. Give me an open ocean over the skies, or give me death.

Flag: If you don’t start moving, Waller will give you that death. We’re on a deadline. Move it.

Chase and Kilgore made their way into the forest while Strange moved to intercept the guards. Chase stopped before he completely lost sight of Strange or the guards, and put the guards in his sights as a precaution.

Hugo suppressed his joy as he pulled out his batarangs--collected from crime scenes before his turn from consulting profiler to supervillain. He threw his first low to the ground and angled for a return arc. It passed by just in front of the unsuspecting Brooks, who had gained about ten feet in front of Cloud in their patrol. It was far too quick and low to the ground for Brooks to have seen what it was as it passed through the grass, and Cloud was too far away to make it out in the dark and past Brooks’s legs. The batarang passed through the grass in a low, wide arc back towards Strange, and Brooks and Cloud followed it trying to determine what it was. While their backs were turned, Strange threw two more of his batarangs in quick succession to the back of their lower skulls. The batarangs were more than strong and sharp enough to shred through flesh and bone to destroy the medulla oblongata of each veteran. They fell to the ground with a thud as Strange caught his first batarang, and he pridefully yet quickly retrieved his first two from the skulls of his victims. This would be a cherished memory for Strange.

Chase and Kilgore proceeded ahead of Strange, and split up once they got close enough. No one had yet suspected them as they got into their respective positions. The squad was nearly ready to start their mission in earnest when Boxy Foxy the Killer with Moxie slowly walked up through a clearing, with the moonlight magically more intense and focused around him--as if a spotlight. From Arnold’s home, Sarno spotted Boxy as he had stepped out for a moment of fresh air. He pulled out his phone and sent a message to a group chat.

Sarno to TFJ Group: We are compromised. Weapons ready. Enemy approaching and number unknown.

Arnold stood in his kitchen, laughing with Victoria when he got the message. He looked across through another window and saw the lights in his cabins turn on. The men knew and were arming themselves. He quickly set his drink down and pulled out one of the many guns hidden throughout his kitchen.

Arnold: Victoria, Protocol L. Head northwest six klicks. You’ll see some haystacks at the edge of my neighbor’s property, and under some cover, there is an ATV that you can use to get out of range of any jamming. Here.

Arnold gave her a rifle and a flare gun. She took them and saluted him as Sarno came and armed himself.

Victoria: Good luck to you both. I better see you at the rendezvous.

Sarno: I’ll keep the old man alive. Don’t you worry, Ma’am.

Arnold: Sarno, I need you to get our special delivery. No point in having it if we don’t make it through the night.

Sarno: Yes, sir!

All three left the house in different directions. Arnold joined the first unit of his men, numbering five, who were approaching Boxy. The four other units spread out across the property in teams of seven searching for the enemy. Sarno went to a shed where a safe was buried, and he began the process necessary to gain it’s special contents. Victoria silently and quickly made her way through the forest. Arnold and his unit kept a safe distance behind cover as Boxy Foxy stood there under the magically brightening moonlight.

Arnold: Surrender now or be fired upon!

Everyone stood tensely as they waited for Boxy, but there was no movement. Only Boxy’s eyes, as everyone felt them dig into their souls. One soldier had a moment of recognition and whispered to their partner.

Greene: Holy Shit! I know who that is. That’s Boxy Foxy from Fawcett City. He’s the baseball team mascot, or he was until shit got dark and Captain Marvel had to put him down.

Hartford: Are you serious?! Captain Marvel had to put this guy down?. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

Arnold motioned the signal and his men opened fire. Boxy Foxy was littered with holes, and glowing purple blood oozed out the mascot as it fell to the ground. The light subdued for a moment, but remained unnatural. Chase saw what happened as he moved into position behind his own targets and twisted the sonic suppressor on his custom rifle. He hoped that Boxy was more resilient, but he brought plenty of ammo.

Victoria ran.

On the other side of the encampment, one of the units saw someone enter their obstacle course. They thought they had the advantage as they entered, but Strange instantly recognized the layout once inside; he had suspected what the shape was when he first saw the scans on the USAT shortly before Flag dropped them off. This mission was not what Waller had said, but he would live through it, unlike the overly confident soldiers walking into his trap.

Closer to the cabins, Kilgore crouched behind trash cans as one unit passed by him. Kilgore was not like his teammates; Chase and Strange with their little strategies or Boxy with its apparent death. Kilgore was a pirate and pirates do not fight fairly. He pulled out his cutlass and ornate pistol to stab one man in the back and fire at the head of another. The other men turned around to see their compatriots dying at the hands of a poorly dressed pirate, and they immediately unleashed metallic fury upon him. In a three second burst, ninety-seven bullets passed through Kilgore’s clothes and into a small building behind him. The veterans expected Kilgore to drop dead, yet he stood with a smile beaming through his black beard.

Kilgore: Arrr, no quarter given means none for me to give to you, you black-spotted lads!

Kilgore, still in his water form, charged the men with a wide and lethal swing of his cutlass.

Boxy lay there for a moment, but rose from its back like a statue being raised up. The light around it intensified again. Everyone prepared to fire, but right as they believed Boxy Foxy would charge them, it began to dance. This confused everyone who saw it, but Greene and Hartford were not confused. They could hear the music and it made them want to dance. They dropped their weapons and began to dance in synchronized movement. Arnold yelled for them to stop, but all they could hear were the poppy, synth beats of “What Does the Fox Say.” The other men opened fire again on Boxy while aiming away from their friends, but this did not stop Boxy, as the men kept getting closer to the cursed mascot.

Once close enough, the dance came to a stop. All three posed for the finale, and there was a brief stop in crossfire as the soldiers reloaded. Boxy grabbed the heads of Greene and Hartford, raised them up in the air, crushed their heads in its hands, began to spin them around, and threw their corpses at the other soldiers. Boxy charged the other soldiers and let out an unnatural howl. Arnold fired upon the demon, but no matter the bullets or the purple blood loss, it did not stop beating his men to death and howling. Arnold ran.

Victoria ran.

Chase perched on a roof as soldiers passed underneath him and he activated the remote rifle he had hidden. This took out the leg of one soldier, and caused the others to turn to return fire. This gave Chase his chance in their collective blind spot to open fire with barely a hint of noise. With his first two shots, his spot was unknown, but by the third body, the other three had instinctively figured out where to aim. It was too bad for them that Chase rolled off the roof and shot them dead before landing on the ground himself. Chase had hoped for more of a challenge. He was disappointed his tax dollars used to go to paying for this level of training. He started to walk away when he was shot in his left arm. Grazed, but still painful. He quickly turned and returned fire to the soldier who lost his leg.

Flag: Chase, we have a runner on thermal. Go after them.

Chase: Copy that.

The men inside the obstacle course watched their corners as they passed through quickly and decisively. They opened each door carefully--uncertain what they would find. Soon the split-up unit met at a single spot--a door leading to the last unchecked room. On the door was an upside down Batman symbol, and the men busted the door down to clear the room. They opened fire in the corner of the room where they saw a shadowy figure that resembled the figure dressed like Batman they followed into the course. But Strange dropped from the ceiling, shot his grappling hook through the door to pull it shut as he ran, and hit the button to the mini-explosives he had placed throughout that room. The men died instantly in a fiery finale.

As some of the last men tried to fight off Boxy Foxy, they could start to hear the music. It was growing louder in their minds--drowning out the sounds of their automatic rifles. They tried to resist the dancing, but it was becoming harder and harder every second. And then Sarno arrived.

Sarno, far more muscular now thanks to the Venom steroid injection, tackled Boxy with the fury of a truck at full speed. The men’s minds were freed and they ran in search of more ammunition, but they were met with a chestful of batarangs as Strange emerged from the training course. They fell to the ground and bled out in a matter of seconds. Strange saw the fight ongoing, and recognized the effects of Venom. He decided to hang back to see if Boxy would be able to withstand such punishment. The battle between the Venom-empowered Sarno and the cursed mascot was intense as they traded blow after blow that would have smashed the bones of mortal men. They tossed each other into trees, and the sounds of wood cracked every time.

Arnold ran across his ranch, and as he turned a corner, he saw a pirate standing over the bodies of his men. Before Kilgore could react or turn to water, Arnold shot him in the head, and Kilgore fell to the ground dead. Strange heard the gunshot from nearby, and proceeded to hunt this lone gunman. This felt more natural to him. This must be how he feels whenever he chases after me in the streets of Gotham, Strange thought.

Chase had ground to cover, so he hustled as hard as he could in the direction Flag dropped into his HUD. His days of marathon running were paying off as he soon got within range to fire. His first shot missed, as Victoria knew she wasn’t alone. She got cover and returned fire in the general direction. Chase got behind cover, but he did not stay there long as he tried to get closer and take shots at his target as he moved. He was off. Victoria had already moved. She did not retreat, but instead moved forward to take her shot. She watched as Chase fired into the wrong direction and returned fire. Chase was hit in his armor; the impact was painful, but he knew where she was. He turned to take aim and saw her standing in the open, but before he could fire, she fired her flare gun. The shot did not hit him, but it did not have to in order to work. Chase was blinded and screamed in pain. Flag was watching from the USAT.

Flag: Fuck. Pilot, follow her and get me in firing range.

The USAT pulled around as Victoria ran faster through the forest. She tried to send a text that would release an encoded message to send sensitive materials related to this operation to trusted members of the press. The message was still pending. Victoria did not know whether it was simply terrible reception in the area or if her enemy was jamming her, but it did not matter. She had to move and not look back. The truth needed to be out there.

Strange stalked his prey, but he knew to keep a safe distance. The man was armed and well trained. Strange was not Batman, a fact that drove him into jealous fits of rage, so he could not take the same chances the Batman might against such an opponent. Arnold had returned to a cabin to rearm himself and gain more ammunition, but his trip was cut short as a batarang entered his right tricep. He yelled in pain, but turned and fired off in the direction of Strange. Strange had taken cover behind the wall and avoided the bullets.

Arnold: Stop! Do you even know who we are?

Strange: I have been given answers and I have suspicions, but please enlighten me. Who do you think you are?

The USAT was clipping trees as it got low enough for Flag to fire. He had turned the searchlight on, and Victoria was chased by a beam of light from the sky. She knew what was after her. She only hoped the trees would give her cover long enough to lose it. He waited for a clear opening. Only a few seconds passed like this before his opportunity arrived, and he pulled the trigger. The target twisted in pain and fell to the ground, but Flag saw her face as this happened. He knew who he had just killed and was shocked.

Arnold: I’m Arnold Schutz. I was in the army. Every single man killed tonight was. It’s where we met, and where we learned a dirty secret none of us could tolerate. We banded together in hopes of helping you and every other prisoner in Belle Reve. This is Task Force J. We were going to free you from Amanda Waller, you murderous asshole.

Strange: Ahhh…Of course, you are, and so of course it makes sense Waller would send us after you instead of relying on another agency to handle you. There’s a dark poetry to it. Before your final moment, did you plan on freeing us or simply removing Waller?

Arnold: You’re murderers and terrorists. We can’t let you out, but that doesn’t mean you should be treated like disposable weapons to eliminate foreign policy issues. You can let me go. You don’t have to kill me. I can get your head free of that bomb in a way where you live.

Strange: What a kind offer, but you cannot deactivate the bomb faster than Waller can press the button. This only ends with one of our deaths, and I have unfinished business in Gotham.

Arnold: You’re going to miss that flight to Gotham, because I’m going to blow your goddamn head off.

Arnold pulled the trigger on his shotgun, and armor piercing rounds blasted through the wall and into Strange. The force knocked him down and flat on his face. Strange lay there as Arnold walked up to get a closer shot. The damage to his arm made it hard to keep the gun steady. But Arnold got close, a grappling hook blasted through his chest and Strange pulled him to the ground. Certain Arnold was dying, Strange decided to lay there. The bullet did not make it through his armor after passing through the wall, but the force of impact bruised his back.

Strange, Chase, Kilgore’s corpse, and a blood-soaked Boxy were pulled up into the USAT by an angry Flag. Flag was lied to and used. He had killed someone he respected and worked for before his time with Task Force X. The ride back to Belle Reve was silent between Flag’s mood and the injured Squad members. Boxy danced to himself, to the dismay of the others. Waller sat in her office and poured herself a glass of champagne. Another snake had tried to get her, but she cut off it’s head. Tonight was a good night, and tomorrow, the real work could continue.

What no one knew on the USAT or at Belle Reve was that Arnold was not dead yet. He pulled from his pocket a bootleg device he had hoped to never use--a Superman emergency beacon. He pressed it. A red light flashed, but no noise came from it. Arnold laid there waiting and grew colder and colder with each passing second. It became harder and harder to keep focus. Everything became distant and unreal. He had no idea how much time had passed, but the last thing he remembered was a sudden warmth and a red color from beyond. He passed out in the arms of Superman.

[gagx]

The Suicide Squad: Montana Madness Part 2

For Part 1, Go Here

Location: Blue Dawn Ranch, Montana

Time: 21.9. 8 15:07 PM MDT

Victoria Tanek drove through the countryside down a narrow and ghostly road in her boring, older silver four-door--a necessary pick to avoid attention. She had not seen but one vehicle in her two hours on this road to her destination. She brushed back her champagne-colored hair and decided to turn down the air conditioner. She could see mountain peaks that disappeared into the clouds through brief openings in the treeline. Her dash-mounted burner phone gave her the final directions and spoke again as if she had not heard it less than ten seconds before. She hated that.

She pulled into a long, tree-lined driveway and came to a stop at a gate. She met the digital gaze of a camera as she rolled down her window. There was a brief pause, but then the gate opened slowly for her. As she rolled her window back up, she noticed to her side some half-buried weapon system. A remote turret of some kind, she reasoned as she pulled down an even further stretch of driveway than what she had already been upon. Eventually she came to a fork in the road where a man dressed in brightly colored athletic clothes with a rifle hanging from a strap around his torso waved her to the right. She followed his direction, and she could see him run into the trees, presumably rejoining whatever training activity he was a part of before being pulled away to help.

Eventually the trees gave way to a wide open area. A few larger cabins were concentrated to her left while to the right of her appeared to be several different training areas neatly divided up to avoid crossfire; one was a simple shooting range, another an area for physical training, and two others divided into different yet connected obstacle courses for simulation combat. The repeating bursts of live fire filled the air as she pulled around to the parking area, filled with more than a couple dozen civilian vehicles of different years and models.

She stepped out of her car, and brushed off her mauve top and black pants of any lint or crumbs from her car ride snack. She was approached by two armed, but relaxed, men. They were both rather tall and muscular; if it were not for one’s greying hair, she might have mistaken them for action stars--or their stunt doubles. The slightly shorter one was still rather young with a shaved head, but scars along the right side of face and neck let Victoria know he had been through hell and back.

Some might become nervous or gawk at the sight of these two men, but Victoria remained focused on why she had been contacted. This was not her first time being surrounded by dozens of muscle-bound warriors. She had defeated and humiliated scores of them in her previous line of work, but that was then and this was now. She was going to need those muscles if her plan was going to work. The slightly taller one, with greying hair, held out his hand to shake.

Arnold: Arnold Schultz. It’s so good to finally meet you in person, Victoria. This is my second in command for this venture, Sylvester Sarno.

Sarno: The honor is all mine. You come highly recommended.

Victoria: It’s lovely to meet you both. I count twenty-eight, not including you two. Are there any more hidden away?

Arnold: Five men are on a supply run for a special delivery, but should be reporting back within the hour.

Victoria: Excellent. For what you want, the more volunteers we have, the more our chance of success increases. I’m sure they know what they’ve signed up for, but how much of the operational details do any of them know, yet?

Sarno: If I may, most know only the location and our goal. Only a handful know some details and are training for their respective roles as we speak. We felt it was only right to let you give them the full scope of operations once you arrived.

Victoria: Good, I like an audience that hangs on my every word.

There was a brief moment as Arnold and Sylvester exchanged glances.

Arnold: I know you wouldn’t drive out here if you weren’t committed, but I feel I need to ensure this is clear. The moment anyone knows what we’re up to, we will be labeled traitors and discredited, despite the just nature of our cause. Even after the operation, our lives will be turmoil at best. So I’m offering this now: do you want to turn around and deny any connection with us, or will you stand against those who hide behind the flag and tell us that what is inhumane is justice?

Victoria locked eyes with him.

Victoria: I have never backed out of a mission I knew would save lives, and I certainly won’t start now.

Arnold: Thank God for patriots like you, Victoria. Sarno, have the men gather near the mess hall and ready for briefing in the next hour while Victoria and I finish the presentation.

Sarno: Yes, sir.

Sarno ran off towards the training areas. Arnold led Victoria to his office. Spirits were high, but this was before nightfall

[gagx]

The Suicide Squad: Montana Madness Part 1

Introduction

Greetings! This is my first time posting fan fiction. I had fun writing this and I hope you will enjoy this. I am a big superhero comics fan, and since they’ve been on my mind recently, I had an idea for a Suicide Squad story. For some insight, I originally thought of this as an interlude issue between some ongoing threads in a series, but it was pointed out to me that DC probably wouldn’t allow this. Thus my interest in trying to write this story out in prose format.

I have divided this up into three parts to ensure proper copy/pasting, and because my story divides neatly into three parts.

Location: Area 43--Belle Reve Meta-Prison

Time: 21.9.8 14:37 PM CDT

The sky was partially cloudy over the yard, and it was a crowded place, as this prison was never expected to grow as big as it has. In the four hours a day the prisoners, all repeat offending supervillains, were allowed in daylight, they broke into their groups- some gangs formed and some friendships were being fostered. Workouts, fights, and petty gambles born of tedium all took place to pass the time before they were forced back into their cells. All of it happened under the supervision of guards in anti-tank personnel armor and those in the towers watching their vitals through the command collars all prisoners wore, lest their special abilities and powers be unleashed in deadly, retributive action against those who hold the keys to their cells.

There was a noise near one of the entryways. Guards with laser rifles poured out leading a new prisoner into the yard. Large, inhuman yet humanoid forms were not unusual among the population of Belle Reve, but even this new prisoner stood out. A cube-like head was atop a cube-like body. Shorter prisoners pushed their way forward as people gathered to get a look at their new neighbor, but as soon they came to the front, they regretted the choice. The figure seemed to be a fox mascot wearing boxing gloves for some sports team--where the name of the team once was on its gold colored jersey had been replaced, in a stylized font that linked the letters together, “Kill Kill Kill Kill.” But this was not what made those who looked upon this new prisoner regret their choice. It was the eyes. It’s googly eyes pierced into the soul and followed those who tried to look away. Everyone who gazed upon it felt this unnerving stare.

Amanda Waller came out in a crisp new navy pantsuit and rode upon a hover-platform that raised her to a height where she could see the entirety of the gathered prisoners. She pressed a button on her wrist control, and the audio function of every prisoner-retention device was active.

Amanda: Afternoon. This is your newest cellmate and yard friend straight from Maine Magical Dungeon Prison, Boxy Foxy the Killer with Moxie. It will also be joining some of you on a new mission.

Amanda looked upon the crowd to decide who she wanted for this mission. She noticed that a number of the prisoners looked unnerved. She enjoyed watching these murderers and masochists squirm. She also needed them to focus, so she looked for those who did not break their gaze.

Amanda: Chase, report to mission control.

The self-styled hero Vigilante gave Amanda a dagger filled glance, but did not press back against the order. It had been many months since he had seen the outside world, and this would likely be the only chance he had to escape this place--even briefly.

Amanda: Strange, report to mission control.

Strange: Can I wear my suit?

Amanda:….Yes, you can wear your off-color Batman suit.

Strange: Those are his true colors!

Amanda: *sighs* I’m not having this argument again, Strange. I have seen Batman.

Strange: I have seen his soul, and that allowed me to mock him by showing his true colors. It also allowed me to honor nature and present myself as the master predator that I am. You have weak eyes, Waller.

Amanada: You have lost to every Robin. You should be honored you’re even considered dangerous enough to be here.

The distinct laughter of the Australian supervillain, Captain Boomerang, erupted and interrupted.

Boomerang: You lost to the Robins? Ahahahahahaahhhaa. You suck!

Strange: There is no shame. Batman trains his welts well, and the Nightwing is no Robin. He’s bested Deathstroke, and as I recall, you pissed yourself when Deathstroke became involved during one of your missions.

Boomerang: Lying bastard. I did no such thing. I’ll have you know, I fought the Flash. I am not some loser who got beat by some sidekicks.

Strange: Your defeat is no greater than mine. You can tell yourself the glory of your battle all day, but we all remember how you smelled when you came back.

Boomerang mumbled something as he quickly reached down towards a small rock he had intended for the shining, gigantic dome that was Strange’s head, but Amanda raised her hand. The guards in watchtower three understood and acted nearly instantly to disable Boomerang through minor electrocution via his collar. Boomerang landed face first into the dry, warm dirt as laughter emerged around him. Catman offered a hand, but Boomerang angrily slapped it away as he slowly made his way up.

Amanda scanned the crowd one last time, and she saw him. The mad man who walked and talked like a pirate out of a children’s tale, dressed like poor man’s Pirates of the Caribbean knockoff when not in standard prison orange, and claimed to be from another Earth--Captain Kilgore. His tales of another world were not backed by any evidence, but his claims were logged in the event of an hostile extra-universal encounter. His only advantage over Chase or Strange was his ability to transform his body into water, which made him hard to kill. If he could change his shape or control more water, then Kilgore might have been one Belle Reve’s more dangerous inmates, but his apparent inability or lack of skill simply made him a useful moron to Amanda Waller.

Amanda: Captain Kilgore, report to mission control.

Kilgore: To the high seas, we be going, eh? I’ll be needing my parrot if I’m to lead your men across my treacherous love.

Amanda: Your parrot was eaten by Killer Croc, and you wouldn’t need that damn bird where you’re going.

Kilgore: Arrrrrgggggghhhhh!

Amanda: The rest of you can go back to your miserable lives. Yard time is being cut short an hour today. Deal with it.

She hovered her way back inside as groans, shouts, and threats filled the yard. The guards raised their weapons as they backed off. One of the men who fought over the name Blockbuster ran forward seeking revenge for the lost time, but was severely shocked and left twitching in front of the gathered prisoners. They soon disbanded and went their separate ways, as guards dragged Blockbuster back to his cell.