Santa Prisca
June 20, 23:01
Rather than standing idle and tapping my foot, I channeled the nervous energy building up within into a more productive effort rather than worrying.
Carefully maneuvering about the mass of trunk-like limbs and bulging, skin-cracked frames, I scanned each unconscious captive to ensure they'd continue to stay under and also double checked their restraints.
All the while a significant portion of my mind was on the boys. Sending them off alone to where Ra's al Ghul was at his strongest generated no small amount of discomfort. Not to mention the presence of whoever or whatever The Light had sent to pry my secrets from Will's mind.
I didn't doubt the capabilities of the team, far from it. But sitting this one out, at least until the League arrived, felt wrong on every level.
"Specialist. We are one minute out," Kaldur's voice came through, interrupting my thoughts. "How are things on your end?"
"Nothing's changed since you guys left."
Mike chose this moment to interject, his update lifting my mood. "Sir, Superman has squared away the threat in Metropolis and is on his way to the island."
"How long?"
"22 seconds and counting."
Darting out of the mess of cultists and sorcerer, I jumped onto the platform and hastily chose my destination.
"Mike, when he gets here, give him the details."
"Will do sir."
I triggered the platform and the scenery changed from dark jungle to pale yellow light and then the familiar interior of the Zephyr.
"SP. You're joining us?" Robin said, asking the question on everyone's mind. The whole team vacated their seats and converged on me.
"Yes," I stepped off the platform, moving to the back of the ship, toward the cargo hold.
"You know the big guys are gonna come after us," KF said. "Probably gonna scold us after this too."
I gave him a glance before opening the crate I pulled out. He was unusually calm and insightful tonight. A friend getting kidnapped by some of the worst people to ever exist would do that to a person.
Within the large crate, Magneto style helmets sat in perfect indents, each of them designed with motifs and colors that fit every current member of the team. One by one, I grabbed them and tossed them to the boys, giving each the one that fit him.
Answering their looks of confusion, and the faint revulsion from Superboy, I pointed at my head and explained. "If we're right and Will was taken for what he knows, these will protect us if there's a telepath present."
"But we already have the comms. Aren't they enough?" Roy asked, both hands clutched tightly around his helmet.
"And why aren't you wearing one?" asked Superboy, the primary source of the revulsion.
"First. Mine is inbuilt into my mask. And two—
"You guys know this," said Rob. "The helmet does not just protect. It also hides. If The Light has fielded a telepath, this will allow us to get the jump on them."
"Woah! This thing is so cool," KF said and walked up to the rest of us, his yellow and red helm with lightning bolts on the sides sitting snugly on his head. "I can see normally. No, it's even better and clearer. It's like I'm not wearing a helmet at all."
If Rob's explanation didn't convince them, then KF's words did.
Leaving them to acquaint themselves with the new toys, I went to the cockpit to prepare for the mission ahead.
"Sir, we are here," Mike announced when I stepped behind the dashboard, forgoing the seat.
"Have you located him yet?"
"Yes, sir," his voice came through, and one of the buildings on the screen got highlighted by the ship's computer before a host of scanners revealed every lifeform and technological device in the structure.
At the bottom of the building, below ground level, Will, his identity confirmed by the hidden tracker and the scanners, had been strapped to a board in a cross shape.
Before him an individual with a bulging head that was visible even on our end stood before him and radiated levels of psionic energy beyond that of baseline humans.
Sensing the numerous presences behind me, I stopped keeping my thoughts to myself.
"Psimon," I said, and his colored silhouette on the screen got labeled.
"Icicle," I continued, this individual's lack of body heat and jagged edges being the dead giveaway to his identity. "Professor Ojo, Cheshire, Sportsmaster, Black Spider, and Hook."
"What about those three up here?" KF pointed at the subjects of his question and asked.
"It's not important. We're here for Will," Roy said with a bit more heat. "What are we waiting for?"
All eyes fell on me and I outlined my hastily thought out plan.
"Psimon is here, so the parameters of the mission will have to change a bit. We can't risk The Light getting a hold of what Will knows. So I'll be leading the charge. First, we get in, disable or distract everyone. Grab Will and Psimon during the chaos and get everyone out."
"And how do you propose we do that?" Rob asked, before gesturing at the live feed of the highlighted building with two gloved fingers pressed together. "Because those three KF pointed out have to be Ra's, his daughter, and Sensei. Or Ubu. I'm not sure. But it's not even them I'm worried about."
He shifted his fingers to a silhouette, musclebound and tall in a way that would make most do a double take due the presence of outward curvatures at the chest and hip areas.
"If I'm not wrong, that's Devastation, and she can go toe to toe with Wonder Woman. She will not make this easy."
"It doesn't matter. We're getting Will out," I leaned forward and rested my chin on my hand.
"No matter what."
.
.
.
.
POV: Talia al Ghul
Her father and the rest of his associates—The Light, had been quite… restless as of late.
For a reason they'd come to understand was an unidentified individual wearing a spider themed suit, carefully made plans and constructed machinations with timelines measuring in the decades if not centuries had been upended overnight.
Luthor had misplaced his prized creations, her father had lost their one main information pipeline into the League's affairs, and all of them, all the way to the top the immortal savage sat on, had lost the veil of secrecy they so enjoyed and thrived in.
All because of one man who chose to dress like a spider.
Her own intimate experiences with another animal-themed hero gave her an inkling of something to come, something so ridiculous she was finding it hard to trust or believe her own instincts.
In the same manner her beloved had appointed himself a consistent thorn in her father and by extension, his organization's side, this Spider-Man, would (if he hadn't already) become something similar to The Light.
Maybe even much worse.
He wouldn't be a thorn, he'd be a whole tangle of vines that would strangle the cabal and eventually rip them to shreds.
With the wealth and breadth of her father's knowledge and wisdom, such a notion seemed ridiculous and downright impossible. First, unlike Luthor, he had reacquired what had been taken, and the process to determine how the asset obtained its freedom was underway.
Of course, the more important thing was digging up every iota of knowledge about the Spider-Man, but the unsightly subordinate of Queen Bee didn't need to be told to do his job twice.
Other than the boy's obvious and staunch resistance at giving her father what he was owed, nothing about this situation supported that preposterous notion that a mere man could pose a hindrance to her father and his associates.
Still, she had to let her father know. He was the smartest and wisest man she knew. And she knew a lot of people. When you'd lived as long as she did, meeting all sorts of people was par for the course.
Keeping her eyes on the sweating and groaning young man, she said, "Fathe—"
BOOM!
Distracting her from the sudden explosion, a lance of pure white fell from the ceiling like lightning and struck the telepath, tearing a guttural scream out of him, his sadistic smile replaced by bulging red eyes and wide open mouth, an expression that could only accompany the lightning bolt she imagined.
Eclipsing his scream, two sudden and consecutive explosions followed the first and ripped through the air, each one louder than the last. She and everyone present saw the result of the third one, three circular chunks of ceiling falling to reveal a hole that allowed… no one entry.
She had no time to grow perplexed as black smoke began to billow from points she couldn't determine. They filled the room at a breakneck pace, and the last thing she saw was the lance of white freeing itself from what she thought was the corpse of the telepath.
As for sound, something about the smoke seemed to have robbed it completely from reality.
Her father, who remained still like the immovable rock she knew he was, grabbed her by the arm and dragged her through the mire to safety. The whole time she could hear whispers in front of her.
It wasn't until they left the domain of the cloying smoke did the whispers turn into full blow shouts and shows of concern for her well being.
"I'm okay father," she said and grabbed the hand he cradled her face with, turning to look at the sky above the building they vacated.
Scores of shadows funneled in from all over the island and formed around them—herself, her father, Sensei, and Ubu. But none of them paid any mind to these rank and file soldiers.
Their attention was fixed solely on the clear night sky, or more specifically, the cylinder of blue light that had captured Professor Ojo, Icicle, Cheshire, Sportsmaster, Black Spider, Hook, and Psimon its width, pulling them into a hole one after the other.
The men raised their guns to fire, and her father raised his hand, two fingers pointed up.
"Aim around the hole."
Gunfire ripped through the night at his command. Proving again his enduring wisdom, the hail of bullets that should've sailed through empty air pinged off an invisible wall.
However, instead of sparking against what they hit, the bullets just flattened and fell, their kinetic and impact energy seemingly absorbed entirely.
Her father's hand went up again when the continued storm of gunfire accomplished nothing after a while and the last of the captives disappeared into the hole. As though angry at the silence, someone unleashed a loud roar from within the building they vacated.
Devastation, the muscular and heavy set woman sporting corn rows and gargoyle grey skin covered in thorn tattoos shot forth from the top of the building, tongues of black smoke coiling off her form.
For a moment, the night held its breath as her flight brought her closer and closer to the hole. The onlookers, those hopeful among them, quickly grew disappointed when the hole closed and an explosion went off on the woman's face, messing up her jump and throwing it out of whack.
As if the explosion wasn't enough, Talia with her lifelong experience of combat noticed a sudden force impact the side of the woman's face, launching her towards the ground even faster.
A cloud of dust rose from top of the building when Devastation impacted it, but her attention was elsewhere. The rocket launchers were finally out, but there was nothing to hit.
For a moment, she wondered if her father would give the order anyway in hopes of even swiping the craft. He did no such thing, staring at the spot in the sky for a short moment before giving a dismissive flick of his hand.
Someone at his station didn't need to state what needed to be done in this situation. If those he'd delegated needed him to tell them to send the men on a full sweep of the island, clean up the mess, and tighten security, they were better off offering their heads to him.
"Father," Talia caught up to the eponymous man and matched his stride. "What do we do now? The group, whoever they are, they took our best operatives and one of Queen Bee's."
"This is no group," he responded. "It is the Spider-Man."
She wanted to ask how he knew specifically, but she didn't want to question him before his subordinates. "Him alone?" she asked instead.
"You are skeptical," he answered, seeing right through her. Like he always did.
This was her turn to tap into her training and feign impassiveness.
"The possibility that another individual or group employing similar tactics and technology displayed by the spider is low enough that I expect you to know better… daughter. Tell me, what really claws at you?"
Inside her father's study, she stood by herself while he sat in meditative pose on the bare wooden floor, his clear and piercing eyes calm and focused on her like an eagle's.
Huddling and wrapping her arms around herself, Talia looked away as her mask broke.
"Ah, I see. This is because of him," her father uttered, loud enough for her to hear but not enough for her to react.
"He and the spider share similarities. Not all of them, but the most important ones. The bat is indeed a prime among men, but he is still a man. There is no reason another like him cannot rise."
The mention of man triggered a different kind of emotion within Talia, and her father of course picked up on it before she could speak.
"Daughter. My stance on the matter will not change. Leave me."
The shouting contest she envisioned relegated to the recesses of her mind, Talia clenched her trembling fist and exited the room, "Man this! Man that!" reverberating through her head, her goal of warning her father about the spider thrown to the wayside.
He'd probably dismiss it. After all, according to him, a woman couldn't be the Demon's Head. Why then would the message her instincts were blaring to her mean anything to him? He would never trust her.
Especially when he had his own wealth of experience and instincts telling him otherwise.
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