Suicide Squad
Page 27
As Enchantress reveled in her own wonderment, she sensed Katana behind her, ready to slice down on her. Barely recognizing the human’s existence, she simply waved the sword away, flinging it out of Katana’s hand. Then she turned back to Boomerang and threw a bolt at him.
He ducked and spun, throwing two explosive ’rangs at her. They detonated and she fell back. He threw another ’rang, but Enchantress waved her hand and it harmlessly exploded in mid-air. She grabbed him and pushed him to the ground, then raised her sword high.
“Your sword girl intended to cut me in half,” she hissed. “Let’s first try that on you.” She started to bring down her sword, when her arm was suddenly grabbed by a powerful, scaly hand.
Croc. He looked down at her, his eyes glistening. His mouth twisted into a grim sneer.
“You’re dead,” she cried.
“I got better.”
He snapped his arm and sent her hurtling toward the station wall. She disappeared just before hitting it.
“Hey,” Harley called out. “You a ghost ’gator or the real thing?”
“Not a ghost, Quinn—and still not an alligator.”
“That’s your problem. Not mine,” she replied. “But welcome back an’ all that crap.”
“You missed me?”
“If you mean I missed having a monster to wise off to, yeah.”
“Yeah. Missed you, too, punky.” He looked around him. “The witch’s gone. Now what, Flag?”
“She has a nasty way of showing up when you least expect it. Keep on the alert.”
“I smashed her once. Next time I’ll rip her in half.”
Harley laughed. “That I gotta see. Hell, I’ll pay good money for a front-row seat.”
“You’re gonna have your chance, mates,” Boomer shouted. “Behind you.”
Suddenly she was on the platform, crouching in the light. Her machine was behind her, spewing water and wind. The Squad readied their weapons.
“On my command,” Flag said. “We’re not taking prisoners.”
But then Harley stepped in front of them.
“Hey. C’mon, guys. Knock it off. I mean, what are we doing? Aren’t we supposed to be heroes or something? You’re talking cold-blooded murder.”
“Out of our way, Quinn,” Flag shouted. “She intends to destroy the world.”
Harley glared at Flag as if he was speaking in Martian.
“Oh, jeez. Who cares about the world? What’s the world ever done for us? C’mon. You know it better’n anyone. The world hates us. Hell. You hate us, too.” She turned toward Enchantress and walked over to her. “I lost my Puddin’. You got magic powers, right? Can you bring him back to me?”
Enchantress smiled. “I can, my dear. Anything you want.”
Harley paused. Katana’s sword was lying on the platform by her feet. She leaned over and picked it up.
“Promise?”
“Yes, child,” Enchantress said. “But now, prove your loyalty to me. The sword. Bring it to me.”
Harley looked back and saw the Squad staring at her.
“Quinn. C’mon. You can’t do this,” Deadshot said.
“Quinn!” Flag shouted.
Enchantress held out her hand. “Give it to me. Then you only need to bow to me and swear subservience. If you do I will give you everything you have ever wanted.”
“That sounds nice,” Harley said.
“Don’t do it, girl,” Croc growled. “You know this is wrong.”
“Yeah.” She turned back for a moment and gave a defeated smile. “But she’ll bring my Puddin’ back to me.” Harley leaned over, bowing. “I like what you’ve been selling, lady,” Harley said as she looked up. “But there’s one, tiny problem.”
She held Katana’s sword firmly in hand.
And grinned.
“You messed with my friends.” In a single, swift movement, Harley swung the sword across Enchantress’s chest, slicing her open, exposing her heart. Then she made a face as she thrust her hand into the cavity, grabbed the pulsating organ, ripped it out, then looked at the bloody mass in her hand.
“God, that is like the weirdest garbage I’ve ever done,” she said. “And I’ve done some really weird stuff.” Harley turned to Flag and gave him a wink as Enchantress howled in pain.
The arcane machine began to shudder, its source of power suddenly taken from it. Flag turned to the others.
“Her heart’s out,” he said. “We can end this.” He reached into his backpack and removed a limpet mine. “Croc,” he called. “Take it.”
He tossed the mine to Croc, who threw it toward the machine’s grinding maw. At the same time, Harley tossed her magnum to Deadshot.
“Hey, man. I got only one shot left. So you better do that voodoo that you do so well.” Lawton grabbed the gun and cocked the hammer.
One bullet. One target.
As the bomb arced toward its target, he fired the gun, and the bullet slammed directly into the explosive.
It detonated.
Abruptly the wind reversed itself, and sucked up everything and anything that hadn’t been battened down. Piles of rubble, of debris, disappeared into the dark maw, ripping through the ring, shredding the machine until it could no longer contain all that it greedily absorbed.
The machine imploded, leaving behind a great, glowing cloud to mark that it had ever been there at all.
Seconds later that, too, was gone.
Fire and smoke rippled through the train station, slamming into Enchantress. She cried out as she was caught in the blast. She tried to conjure an enchantment to protect herself, but it was already too late. She was surrounded by an eruption of light and magic.
All her power, her strength, her magical energy, was gone.
It was over.
SIXTY-NINE
Deadshot stared as the machine he’d helped destroy rippled into non-existence. It was gone, he knew. Because of him.
Because of all of them.
Flag ran up and, before he could object, wrapped him in a bear hug. It hurt like hell. “You did it,” he said. Deadshot pushed himself free and stepped back.
“Hey, man. I am not a hugger.”
“I don’t care. You did it.”
“What about her?” Harley said. She stood next to Enchantress, who was lying bent on the ground, weak and fragile. “You mind giving me five minutes alone with her and my bat?”
“Watch it, Quinn,” Deadshot warned. “She may do more of that witch crap.”
“No.” Enchantress lifted her chin to give Katana a clear shot to her throat. “Help me join my brother.”
Harley gestured to her, grinning. “There you go, K. Ready to add another soul to your collection? You should number them all. You know. Collectable kills. They’ll be worth a lot more that way.”
Katana cocked her sword over her shoulder, ready to bring it down on Flag’s command.
“Don’t.” The colonel stepped in her way.
“What the hell are you doing, man?” Harley said. “We’re never gonna get a better chance.”
“You still have her heart,” he said, holding out his open hand. She looked at it, smiled, and gave it to him.
Suddenly Enchantress was frightened.
“Listen to me,” she said to Harley. “The soldier and his master will only put you back in cages—but I will free you.”
“June, please.” Flag was no longer looking at the witch, but the woman inside. “Hear me. Hear my voice. Send the witch away.”
“I am one of you,” she pleaded. “Return my heart to me and I will give you anything you ask for. What can he give you beside a long incarceration?”
“June, I don’t want to do this. Please.”
They stared at Flag. “It’s okay, man,” Deadshot said. “Do what you have to.”
Colonel Rick Flag looked at the heart for a long time. He had no choice. He only prayed June, wherever she was, would understand. He stared at the heart, gray and desiccated, then tightened his grip and crushed it.r />
Enchantress twisted in pain, jerked from side to side. Her body warped and her flesh reformed. Arms became legs, and legs arms.
She looked at Flag and spoke only one word.
“Enchantress.”
Then she died. Flag stared at the corpse, dirty and primordial. He fell to the ground and grabbed at her.
“She’s gone,” he moaned. June was gone with her.
He turned away. Harley’s hand shook as she rested it on his shoulder. He looked up at her, said nothing, but he nodded.
“Flag,” Deadshot said. “Behind you.”
He turned to see June Moone peeling off from Enchantress’s husk. She stood, naked, dazed, and muddled, and he rushed to her. He held her and swore to himself that he would never let her go.
“She’s gone,” June said, sounding relieved but still afraid.
* * *
They stood in silence, staring at the now-empty train station. The ceiling had collapsed and they could see daylight outside.
“Well. That was real,” Deadshot said. “Guess it’s time to split. I got business in Gotham City.”
Croc looked at the others and shrugged. “And if y’all don’t mind, I got a sewer to crawl back into.”
As the others started to walk off, Harley grimaced.
“Well, I can hotwire a car.”
“Maybe, but you ain’t driving,” Deadshot laughed.
Boomer gave the others a salute and started to leave when they saw Waller step onto the platform.
“It’s over?” she asked.
“Yeah,” Flag said. He looked at the Suicide Squad. Harley, Deadshot, Boomer, and Croc. Katana, too. They were scorched, battered and bloody—emotional and physical wrecks. They were a team. They’d escaped the jaws of hell, and they were bound together.
“What now?” he asked Waller. She looked at the group as if trying to decide.
“Yes, you’re right,” she said to Flag, and she smiled as she held up the detonator. “Now what?”
“Aw, c’mon,” Deadshot said.
Harley folded her arms over her chest. “Yeah, a thank you would be nice.”
“Thank you,” Waller said.
“Wait. No. That’s it?” Deadshot stepped in front of her and stuck his face in hers. “We get nothing out of it? After all this?”
* * *
“Tell you what,” she responded. “Any requests? What can I do for you? You can’t run, but I can give you each one thing. Think hard. What do you want? What do you really want? Besides ten years off your sentence.”
“That’s not enough,” Deadshot said. “I wanna see my daughter.”
“Okay. Any other requests?”
“An espresso machine?” Harley said.
Croc shrugged. “BET,” he said. Waller wasn’t sure if he meant he wanted the entire television network, or a subscription to cable TV—then she decided they’d sort that out later. She turned to Harkness and waited for his smart-ass request.
Boomerang shook his head. “Ten years off a triple life sentence? Not even close. I wanna walk outta here a free man. Or you’re gonna see what I can really do.”
Waller looked at him for a long time.
SEVENTY
Floyd Lawton was in his living room. It was a simple space, plain but big enough for him to be able to help Zoe with her math homework.
“You gotta figure this length,” he said, pointing to the hypotenuse. “You gotta know this angle.”
Zoe tried to understand. “So, if you’re up here like in a building, and you shoot a man down here on the street, the hypotenuse is how far the bullet actually travels?”
He took a sip of his coffee and hugged her. She was definitely his daughter. Then the door opened. Deadshot checked his watch. It was too soon. It was always too soon.
Flag entered with four U.S. Marshalls carrying chains and cuffs.
“It’s time,” he said.
Lawton hugged his daughter and she held onto him tight.
“I’ll come back,” he promised. “I will.”
Flag nodded for the Marshalls to do their job. Lawton was ready for them to handcuff him.
“You be good,” he said to Zoe. “I never want this for you.”
She watched as they took him away. Flag gave her a warm pat and walked her father to his cell.
* * *
Croc was walking, not to a Belle Reve cellblock, but through the muddy waters deep below the supermax prison. They had offered him a large cell, but he preferred it here. He was no longer avoiding the rest of the inmates, but to Croc, this was home.
Of course, the food was better now, as he no longer had to forage for rats or be served rancid goat heads. They were also giving him books to read, and even promised him a videogame console.
He still had time to serve, but he was doing it in style.
* * *
Boomerang paced his cell, pissed off at the world. The others seemed to be happy here, he thought, but they were all idiots. The very idea of confinement riled him. Why the hell were they so content being cooped up here with no place to go?
Boomer wanted to be back in Australia. Lost and forgotten in the outback. Anywhere but here, in this glorified closet. He trashed his cell, shredded his mattress and set fire to this little home away from home.
“You bastards,” he shouted. “Let me out.”
The guards never answered his pleas. Every few days he would go on a tear and destroy everything within reach, and then when he was calm again, they would bring in new supplies and set it up all over again.
“Necessary rage,” Waller had called it. That was her thank you for a job well done.
Tomorrow, he thought. Maybe they’ll finally let me go tomorrow. Who knows? It could happen.
* * *
Harley Quinn sat in her bunk at Belle Reve, sipping a cup of coffee brewed by her new espresso machine. Her little reward for helping to save the world. She flipped through the pages of a thick magazine. “Sixteen Ways To Find A Lover.”
Stupid article, she thought. She tossed the magazine away. Where the hell was she going to find sixteen lovers here? At least lovers who weren’t creeps, meta-powered maniacs, or alligators?
Grumbling, she jumped out of the bunk, retrieved the magazine and decided to finish reading the article, no matter how impractical it was. Just as she picked up where she had left off, the lights went out and the alarms blared.
She perked up as she heard gunfire. She knew what that meant and she couldn’t wait for him to make his appearance.
The wall behind her exploded. Paramilitary thugs in bulletproof armor and gas masks power-sawed their way into her cage.
Then he walked in. Barefoot and dancing, dressed like the finest Belle Reve guard.
And he was smiling The Smile.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
I want to thank everyone who made this possible.
From DC Comics, all the writers, artists, letterers and colorists who have created so many great characters, great stories and great memories.
From Warner Bros. David Ayer, who both wrote and directed the Suicide Squad movie, co-producer Andy Horwitz for his endless patience every time I asked yet another dumb question, and Josh Anderson, who did so much to make this process not quite easy, but definitely easy adjacent. Thanks also to Richard Suckle, Gary Barbosa, Spencer Douglas, and Shane Thompson for their invaluable input from outline through to completed manuscript.
From Titan Books: Nick Landau, Vivian Cheung, Laura Price, Natalie Laverick, Miranda Jewess, Cat Camacho, Paul Gill, Julia Lloyd, and Hayley Shepherd.
And of course my editor, Steve Saffel, for nearly everything else.
Thank you.
—Marv Wolfman
May 25, 2016
ABOUT THE AUTHOR
MARV WOLFMAN has written the adventures of many of the most famous characters in comic books, including Batman, Superman, Green Lantern, Fantastic Four, Spider-Man, and many others. He was the co-creator of the New Teen Titans, Blade the Vampir
e Hunter, Deathstroke the Terminator, and Nova, and wrote the universe-changing limited series Crisis on Infinite Earths. In the video-game world he contributed to Green Lantern, the DCU-Online massive multiplayer online game; Superman Returns; Dark Knight Returns; Flash, and more.
His novels include Batman: Arkham Knight, Crisis on Infinite Earths, Superman Returns, and The Oz Encounter. His awards include the Will Eisner Hall of Fame Award, the National Jewish Council Book Award, and the Scribe Award for Speculative Fiction (for Superman Returns).
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