Suicide Squad

by Marv Wolfman

  “Never,” Deadshot cried. Suddenly his emergency Glocks appeared in his hands and he fired all four weapons into Incubus’s face. The bullets vaporized with bright flares as they tried to penetrate his armor. Incubus watched them disappear and again laughed at his target.

  “And this is why your worthless race will soon be extinct.”

  SIXTY-SIX

  Sprawled on the ground, Deadshot scanned the station, searching for a place to hide until he could recover. A maintenance door was about twenty yards south. He didn’t know if he had the strength to drag himself there, but he also knew he couldn’t give up.

  Only twenty yards. He grabbed a fallen drainpipe and pulled himself up to his feet. I can do this. I have to do this.

  * * *

  Diablo turned to Flag, angry and determined.

  “I’ll do it,” he said. “I’ll get him there. I lost one family. I’m not losing another.”

  Flag understood, but he wasn’t ready to lose another man.

  “Don’t.”

  Diablo grinned, his smile frightening.

  “You ain’t seen what I can really do,” he said. “An’, Flag?”

  “Yeah?”

  “You’re one real son of a bitch… but thanks. Thank you.” With that Diablo closed his eyes and concentrated. He had fought against his power for so long, but now he needed to embrace it. He began counting down to himself.

  * * *

  Leaning against the station wall for support, Deadshot slowly took a step. Then another… and another. He stifled a cry as he felt a sudden, harsh pain stab him in the side. He fell back against the wall, took several long breaths, then started again. He felt heat coming from somewhere, but he couldn’t tell where.

  Fifteen yards. I will do this. No matter what.

  His first steps hurt like hell, but then the pain seemed to fade as if each step shoved his bones back into position. He let go of the wall and picked up his pace. Ten yards. Only ten yards. He made it to the maintenance door and reached to open it.

  “You have to know you can’t escape me.” Incubus towered over him. “But I did enjoy watching your efforts.” The god’s hands glowed with rippling energy and he reached for Deadshot.

  Then a voice came from behind the giant.

  “Hey, you. Over there! Leave him alone.”

  * * *

  Diablo stood tall, arms spread wide, hands open, fingers splayed. Then he floated up from the ground, levitating as if he was some kind of deity, too.

  Incubus stared.

  “I said, get away from him.” Diablo was raging, nearly out of control. He wanted to hurt. He needed to kill. All his years of anger and pain boiled out of him and formed into a huge fiery skeleton, at least as tall as Incubus.

  Without another thought, he lunged for the god and slammed him away.

  “They are my friends,” he shouted as he whipped a jet-engine blast of fire into Incubus’s face. “I will not let you harm them.”

  Incubus shrugged it off. His iridescent armor rippled as it dispersed Diablo’s attack. He unleashed another tendril, which struck Diablo, blasting him back across the train station.

  But Diablo stood, surrounded by a huge skeleton of fire that formed around him. Harley Quinn stared at the giant and laughed.

  “Way to go. We got us a Mega Diablo!”

  They all stared as Diablo lunged at Incubus again, and thrust his fiery hands into Incubus’s face, exploding the false god’s flesh. Again and again Diablo slammed his burning fist into Incubus.

  “We’re running out of time. Drive him into the corner,” Flag shouted. “Do it now.”

  Diablo leaped at Incubus, forcing him back toward the corner. But the god fought back, resisting.

  * * *

  Harley stared at the burning giant, then rubbed her eyes to clear away what was obviously a fever dream. When she opened them again, nothing had changed. Diablo and Incubus were fighting a war normal humans could never hope to understand.

  “Now I get it,” she said. “Why he doesn’t let himself get angry.”

  Boomer rushed back to Deadshot’s side and pulled him to safety. Lawton looked at him and laughed.

  “See, if you’re nice to people, they’ll turn into fire skeletons and fight giant glowing man-gods.”

  Boomer grinned back at him. “Right. Point taken.”

  Showing fear, Incubus held his arms up to block Diablo’s repeated attacks. His attempts to counter Diablo’s blows were clumsy, showing that he had never really faced anyone who he had actually had to fight. He had always ordered others to do whatever he needed done.

  Diablo kept hitting him. Again and again, burning through his armor, then digging his fingers into its metal, forcing a gap just large enough to shove his fists inside and ignite the so-called god from within.

  During it all, Diablo never stopped screaming.

  * * *

  GQ surfaced, and pulled himself onto the platform. He balanced the nanite demolition charge and reprogrammed the detonator, then yanked the safety ring. There was no going back now.

  “Rick,” he said into his comm link. “Standing by. I’m in position.”

  SIXTY-SEVEN

  Incubus howled in pain. His arms flailed wildly, hammering at his assailant, desperate to keep him from forcing even more fire under his armor. Diablo had melted its outer layers and was now burning into Incubus’s flesh.

  “GQ’s in place,” Flag shouted. “Drive him into the corner.” Diablo allowed himself a rare smile as he shouldered Incubus toward the corner.

  “Our god burns, Colonel,” he said. “And I am ready.” Then success lessened his rage, and his power diminished with it.

  Deadshot called out to Flag.

  “D’s losing steam. Now would be a good time.”

  “No, I need him to be directly over the bomb. We can’t take the chance that he’ll survive. Diablo, I know you’re weakening, but I need you to keep pushing. Just a few more inches, man. You can do it.”

  Bellowing, Diablo again lunged for the giant. They both tumbled back, into the corner, directly over the SEAL and his explosives.

  “Stand by, GQ,” Flag said. “Almost…”

  Diablo’s fires were slowly fading, but he didn’t back down. Realization appeared on Incubus’s face, and the god fought furiously to escape.

  “Diablo, get out of there. It’s time to ankle,” Flag said. “GQ, on my order!” he bellowed into the comm. Diablo’s fire skeleton dissipated, yet he refused to let go.

  “I said get outta there,” Flag shouted. “Get clear.”

  “Flag. I can’t let him go.” Diablo was still caged in flame as the two combatants returned to their normal sizes. “I’m losing strength, man. Blow the bomb. Do it now.”

  Harley looked to Flag. “He’s going to die saving us?”

  “Not just us. The world.”

  Everyone was in place. There could be no more delays. Reluctantly, Flag spoke into his comm. “GQ. Diablo. The world owes you both.”

  Time had run out.

  “GQ,” Flag said. “Now.”

  * * *

  Directly below Diablo and Incubus, in the dark, flooded tunnels, GQ held his breath, then pulled the pin.

  He closed his eyes and smiled.

  The world would be safe.

  The platform floor erupted in a succession of massive underground explosions, geysering brick and water, obliterating the main tunnel and the other passageways connected to it. Flames crawled up the walls then hung from the tiled ceiling. The fire was everywhere.

  * * *

  There was a ball of fire, as Incubus’s mortal form shattered into an uncountable number of pieces, like soft chunks of amber.

  Then inexplicable consciousness, as he peered through his own eyes again. Although there was no sound, he knew he was screaming.

  For a moment there was motion.

  In that instant, Incubus knew his screaming would continue throughout eternity.

  * * *

  F
lag and the others were lost in the horror.

  GQ was gone. The SEAL had sacrificed himself, which was what they had been trained to do. GQ was a hero, and the whole world would know that. But Croc and Diablo—men Flag once thought were little more than barbaric murderers—had also died. Died saving the lives of all his friends. Perhaps saving the planet itself.

  Deadshot reached out and put a hand on his shoulder.

  “You had no choice.”

  “I know. Doesn’t make it any easier. Lost three men. Three damn good men.”

  Deadshot nodded. “The best.”

  Katana saw Incubus’s head lying alone and looking lost on the station floor, a faint glimmer of life somehow still sparking in his eyes. He was looking up at her, his fight not yet gone.

  She stared at the head, fractured and bloody, then plunged her sword into the former god. He howled, writhing, as it painfully wrenched free his soul.

  The Soultaker was satisfied.

  It was over.

  * * *

  Enchantress shuddered in pain. She felt her brother’s death, and it hurt as nothing else ever had before.

  “What have you done?” she shrieked as she appeared on the platform. She pushed past the Squad and saw her brother’s body, dead and dismembered. “This can’t be.” She looked up at the others, eyes red with hate. “This is a lie. You’re making me see a lie.”

  But she knew it was her brother, and that he was dead.

  Murdered by her enemies.

  Her head pounded and her eyes felt like drills had been taken to them. She whirled, raging, toward Flag and his Squad, but she could barely see them through the unrelenting, hammering pain. Her legs gave out and she sank to her knees.

  “Brother!” she screamed.

  Her shrieks became hurricane winds which battered the Squad. They watched helplessly as the powerful gale blew the weapons from their hands. Boomerangs, Magnums, Glocks, even the Soultaker disappeared into the storm.

  Enchantress began to exact her revenge.

  A pulse of coruscating, multi-colored energy washed over them, and they saw the witch as a prismatic, other-dimensional vision—not at all real, but still deadly and frightening.

  Deadshot shouted at her.

  “You’re next,” he screamed, but she only laughed.

  “My spell is complete,” she replied. “Once your armies are gone, my darkness will spread across your world, and it will be mine to rule.”

  Her machine pulsated, blasting wind and rain into the rail station. Dark, magic clouds surged with increasing power as the weapons fired, pulling scraps of metal from the ring into the main column, its lightning infusing with molten metal.

  A vortex of magic clouds spread, crackling bolts of lightning launched toward their targets, destroying everything they touched.

  * * *

  The Very Important People filed into the White House situation room and took their assigned seats. Tolliver looked to the others. They were in full crisis mode, and he knew it was only going to get worse.

  He sat and stared at the video displays.

  In space, a classified satellite exploded, shredded by bolts of magic energy. Planetside, secret military installations vaporized in the terrifying barrage of magic.

  Either Incubus or Enchantress was behind its destruction. Admiral Olsen, seated next to Tolliver, scrolled through a report on his phone, and leaned over.

  “That was our main satellite facility,” he whispered. “Worldwide military comms are down. We’re fighting blind.” He shook his head. “It was a secret facility. How the hell did the witch know to hit it? Hell. Most of you didn’t even know where it was.”

  “Damned if I know, but this is bad.” Tolliver rubbed the exhaustion from his eyes and sat back in his chair. “This is real bad.”

  * * *

  Waller screamed.

  She hung upside down as black tendrils burrowed into her ears, nose, and mouth, siphoning her thoughts and knowledge, stealing all the secrets from her mind. She was unable to resist.

  * * *

  Enchantress shrugged off the tendrils attached to her, connecting her to her machine, and she began to change, reverting to her feral self—the creature June Moone had found hidden away in that cave.

  A thing of evil.

  Deadshot tried to wipe the shock from his eyes.

  “Yo, Flag,” he shouted over the din. “Your girlfriend needs a shower.”

  Boomer laughed. “More like an exorcist.”

  Flag stared at this thing that had taken over June. He wanted to destroy the witch then and there but knew it wasn’t time. Not yet.

  “If we can get her heart back, we got a chance.”

  “Her heart?” Harley echoed, confused. Then she brightened. “Oh, right. Bitch Hazel’s got her heart stuck in a revolving door. Cool. Sick, but cool.”

  “So you’re saying we attack?” Boomer said. “We keep fighting? Without our two strongest fighters? The matchstick and the alligator?”

  “Crocodile,” Harley whispered under her breath. “Not alligator. Crocodile. Like his stupid name.”

  “Yeah,” Flag said.

  Boomer shook his head. “You know that’s suicide?”

  “Like Lawton said,” Flag replied. “That’s in our name.”

  “Well, when you put it that way.”

  Weapons ready, the Squad spread out. Boomer held two explosive ’rangs. Katana recovered her Soultaker. Deadshot clicked off the safeties on his wrist magnums. Flag loaded a new magazine into his pistols.

  Harley snapped her gum, grinned a big smile, and charged.

  Then Enchantress disappeared.

  “Guess she’s scared of us, huh?” Harley laughed, blowing another large gum bubble.

  Enchantress reappeared next to Deadshot. She grabbed him by the throat then tossed him aside, into Flag. Katana lunged, but once again Enchantress disappeared.

  They turned, waiting.

  Seconds passed.

  Still nothing…

  Then Flag saw her appear behind him. He whirled, firing, but the bullets went through her as if she wasn’t there. She grabbed him, again by the throat, and slammed him back into the station wall. He fell to the ground moaning in pain.

  Deadshot fired, but she disappeared yet again. Five seconds passed.

  Ten seconds.

  Then she was back again, just inches away from Lawton, manifesting two large swords in her hands. She sliced down with them, but Lawton was already moving, sidestepping out of their path.

  She fell back and pivoted, kicking Deadshot in the chest. He spun as she slid closer for another attack, and slammed Boomer to the ground.

  Suddenly Katana was behind her, the Soultaker held high over her head, ready to slam down. Enchantress held up a hand, magically blocking the sword without even looking, then sent a bolt of fractal energy into the warrior, blasting her back.

  She reached for Flag, sprawled on the ground, but Harley stood in her way, grinning happily and wielding the bat with anticipation. With barely a thought, Enchantress flicked her hands, magically throwing her aside. Harley pulled herself back to her feet, laughed, and attacked again.

  Enchantress swung her sword but Harley dropped to the ground, the blade slicing the air just above her.

  Deadshot and Flag shot continuously at Enchantress. She turned to meet each threat, but when she reached out to grab Boomer, Harley’s bat connected with the back of her head, knocking her to her knees.

  “Sorry?” Harley said.

  Enchantress kicked her, sending her flying, then spun to face Flag. She brought her swords down on him, but Deadshot blocked the blades with his wrist magnums. She looked at Flag, grinning, blew a fake kiss, and disappeared again.

  * * *

  In the White House situation room, Tolliver and the others were rooted to their seats, watching as fractal energy beams slashed toward the ocean, blasting apart an aircraft carrier, killing all on board.

  “We gotta put a nuke down on that witch rig
ht now.”

  They all agreed, but there was only one question.

  How?

  * * *

  The Squad was off balance. Where would she appear? Behind them? To the side? Alone? With an army of those thousand-eyed EAs?

  Then she was there.

  Behind Deadshot. Ready to slice off his head.

  Boomer threw his ’rangs, knocking her sword from her hands. She turned toward him and manifested two more blades.

  “Not nearly good enough to take me out, Aussie,” she said. “So c’mon. Let’s end this here and now.”

  SIXTY-EIGHT

  The tunnel below the station had caved in when the explosion took out GQ and Diablo. Mountains of stone, tiled walls, and twisted track filled the narrow spaces. It would take months to clear it all out, and perhaps years to rebuild it, bringing Midway City transit back to its original level of disrepair.

  For a very long time nothing moved.

  Until a scaled hand pushed up through the stone, smashing aside rock and bent steel. Croc had survived the explosion but had been buried beneath the mountain of debris.

  He could hear his friends fighting on the platform above. He was sure the explosion killed the false man-god, Incubus. So they were fighting the real threat. Enchantress.

  As he pulled himself free from the pile and made his way back to the surface, Croc wondered how Flag was dealing with having to give orders to kill the woman he obviously loved. He smiled. If any bastard could be that heartless and cold, it was Flag. Good thing they were on the same side.

  * * *

  Enchantress watched the bugs as they scrambled about, forever failing to jury-rig yet another way to stop her. There was no doubt in her mind—they were going to fail. They were savages, too ignorant to understand their destiny.

  They had only been able to kill Incubus because her brother was weak. He had been ready to let the humans have their world, while the two of them went off to live elsewhere.

  She looked at the septagram, its machine fueled with a mystical energy. Giving her more power. The machine itself was spinning faster, as well, thundering with ferocious energies. The bugs could not survive.

  A storm materialized. Rain blew sideways with unnatural intensity. The machine’s gears ground with staggering torque. Whatever the humans came up with now, they were too late. The sky overhead turned black, punctuated by flashes of lightning that allowed the world to witness her glory.