Batman & Robin #6 - Damage Control (Return Flight, Part Four)
DC Next presents:
Issue Six: Damage Control
Written by AdamantAce
Scene by deadislandman1
Edited by deadislandman1 & PatrollinTheMojave
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RETURN FLIGHT - Recommended Reading:
- Part One: Suicide Squad #11
- Part Two: Batman & Robin #5
- Part Three: Suicide Squad #12
Ethan Avery wiped the sweat from his brow, trudging offstage after a five-star performance as Mister Damage. Pulling a depowered big rig was already a big feat, but when the truck’s brakes were engaged at all times, it made for a challenge that he alone could conquer. Still, he was a human weapon now, and an unfortunate side effect of that was that he needed to discharge that weapon from time to time if he wanted to keep control of his own body when he needed to. Exiting the tent, Avery began to walk towards his trailer, desperate to reach its confines before unleashing the primal force that threatened to burst from beneath his skin.
“Mister Damage...or if I’m guessing right, Corporal Avery.” An unknown voice caused Avery to jump, but what truly terrified him was that the voice knew his name.
“Who—who are you?!” said Avery, “How do you know that name?!”
A figure descended from the darkness, landing behind Avery and prompting him to turn around. A muscular build, pointy ears, a flowing cape, the figure was unmistakable, “B—Batman?”
“Relax, Corporal. I’m not going to hurt you and I don’t want to put you away,” said Batman, “I don’t even know who you are, other than your name - I don't know your story - but I do know there’s some dangerous people after you and they’ll be closing in fast.”
“Who?!” said Avery, “More government freaks?”
“I don’t know who they’re working for or what they want - not really - but I do have a hunch,” Batman explained, holding out his hand, “You have to trust me.”
Avery glanced at the hand, seemingly considering the offer before reaching out. However, just as his hand met Batman’s navy glove, he felt a surge of pain ripple throughout his body, prompting him to howl before tearing himself away from Batman. Falling to the ground, Avery’s body began to change, his skin turning grey as his eyes began to become blood red.
“R—Runnnn….AAAARRGHHH—!” managed Avery, much of his feeble cry lost in an animalistic growl. Batman’s eyes widened as he stepped back, watching as Avery slowly warped into something increasingly less human. His pale skin was replaced with cracked, stony hide, his arms plated in what appeared to be natural black plating. As Avery’s eyes landed on Batman, now seemingly devoid of the humanity they once held, he raised his fist, ready to strike the Dark Knight down.
But before Dick Grayson could react, thick claws ripped through the colorful fabric of a nearby tent. Waylon Jones stepped out, a beastly cannibal with thick reptilian skin better known as Killer Croc .
Croc tackled the hulking Avery to the ground, and moments later was joined by yet another giant. This figure was easily seven feet tall, with ebony skin so dark they would have appeared as a silhouette if not for the white hot flames that clothed their body.
Dick steadied himself, sizing up his two oversized opponents, but before he could make a move was caught unawares by a third opponent. A golden gauntlet thrust forth, its razor sharp talons glimmering. The assailant’s grip closed, taking a fistful of Batman’s cape before flipping it up and over Dick’s head. And though Dick struggled, it was only a second later that the man dragged him back, putting him into a headlock and forcing him to the ground. It was then that Dick saw him, a bronze-skinned man in a white and orange coat and a beak-nosed mask to match. Disappointment washed over the young vigilante as he reasoned the man with the glove had to be the mystery man Ric - friend of Dick’s parents and likely his namesake.
Then, a final assailant arrived on the scene, another the Caped Crusader recognised, if only slightly, and Dick realised just how terrible the company this man Ric kept really was. A cocksure man in a garish yellow shirt, with slicked brown hair, his sidearm in hand. Dick hoped he wouldn’t see him when he saw he had metahumans and supervillains teaming up in the shadows, but it was undeniable with Rick Flag in attendance that the new Batman was dealing with Task Force X - the government’s off-the-books Suicide Squad.
“We received intel about some resistance from Avery, our strongman-turned-stronger man.” said Flag, squatting next to Batman as Ric kept his head pressed against the grass, “But we didn’t expect to see you of all people here.”
“Why not?” Dick sneered, not even bothering to struggle. “Blüdhaven’s hardly a stone's throw from my stomping grounds.”
Flag raised his eyebrow, “You’d have done well to keep your guano-sniffing nose out, Batman.” Pulling back the hammer on his pistol, Flag leveled it at Dick’s head, “Now I have to do something I don’t want to.”
However, just as Flag prepared to pull the trigger, the inhuman strongman Avery roared, tossing Killer Croc off his back before swinging at the burning giant, who had to dive out of the way to avoid being pulverized. Flag threw his attention at his target, whose acts served to be the perfect distraction for Dick to make his move. Pulling his knee up towards his chest, he kicked out, catching the gauntlet-wielding Ric in the knee. The man’s grip loosened abruptly, allowing Dick to whirl around and elbow him in the jaw. Flag turned back to face the Dark Knight, only for Dick to knock him on his ass with a well-placed backhand. He then moved quickly, retreating until he was back to back with Corporal Avery.
As the Suicide Squad surrounded them, nursing their wounds, Batman and Avery glanced at each other. Even in this state, the strongman seemed to discern that Dick wanted to help. They understood each other and the stakes now, and poised themselves against their opponents, ready to fight to get out alive.
🔹🔹 🦇 🔹🔹
Years ago.
One night, one stupid accident. No, a murder. No-one believed him, not the guys at the circus or the police, or social services, but Dick Grayson knew differently. He saw how that gangster threatened Mr Haly, he remembered his exact words.
“Help us move our product with you across a few borders, or we can’t guarantee your safety.”
Then that same night the Graysons’ ropes just happened to snap by themselves? That was impossible. Their ropes never broke, that’s why they were confident enough to fly without a net. The Flying Graysons... killed for drug money. Yet, for as furious as that thought made the young boy, as he stood over two holes clawed in the earth, twin graves, the strongman Clay’s heavy hand on his shoulder while the aloof Bruce Wayne stood several steps back among the rest of those come to mourn John and Mary, Dick couldn’t escape the question: What did anything matter?
That chapter in his life was over, the chapter where he had it all, the chapter where he actually thought his parents would live to see the day he took flight by himself and flew the nest, the day he’d make something of himself. They were gone, and so was the hope of ever getting the chance to make them proud. He stared deeply into those graves, past the humble coffins laid therein and into the empty below. Suddenly he was back atop the trapeze platform that seemed to loom a million fit up off the ground, staring over the edge as his parents sunk into the abyss, falling for eternity despite their looming demise at what they’d find at the bottom of the abyss. There, Dick felt truly helpless as his world fell to pieces. But then, as a tear streamed down his left cheek, Clay’s grip on Dick’s shoulder grew tighter, warmer, and Dick was back in reality.
He looked around at those assembled to mourn: Mr Haly, everyone from the circus, the newly-christened police commissioner and his wife, and more. With great unease, as the priest’s service came to a solemn close, Dick Grayson smiled, prompting waterworks from the bearded lady Jana. He smiled as he came to a comforting truth: He was never alone; he never would be.
All that was left was to consider the billionaire Bruce Wayne’s offer.
Across the churchground, another man choked back a tear as he watched the light return to the young boy’s face. He stood alone, apart from the rest, just like in the movies. He couldn’t pretend he was out of sight, but he knew that anyone that would recognise him would respect his choice to keep his distance. Tearing himself away from the scene, determined to close the book on this cursed chapter, he then saw he wasn’t nearly as alone as he thought. By the road stood a tall and broad man with a dusty black suit and striking features. He was deathly pale, his hair silver despite seeming far from geriactric. Ric almost jumped at the sight of him, if not for realising he wasn’t here for him. No, the mysterious man’s tawny eyes looked right past him to the heart-wrenching display on the churchground.
“You, um…” Ric began, “Are you a friend of the family?”
“Yes,” the man replied, blinking slowly. He shook his head. “It’s a crime.”
“Some people are saying that,” Ric nodded.
“No, I mean it’s not right,” the man gritted his teeth, his voice deep and cracked. “I turned my back for a heartbeat and—”
Stunned in confusion by this man Ric had certainly never seen before, he broke only to laugh to himself. He couldn’t help it. Between himself, the boy, and now this guy, it seemed people were lining up to blame themselves for Mary’s death.
“You did well to care for the girl,” the man replied, unflinching from Ric’s laughter, still with his eyes upon the funeral scene. Ric was taken aback by this phrasing - the ‘girl’? - but his heart bled as the man said what he did, regardless of his wording, for it was exactly what he wished to believe.
“I failed her,” Ric bowed his head. “I failed them all, but… But I can still save the kid.”
The man blinked again, even slower than before. “No,” he said plainly, gesturing ahead. “He has Bruce Wayne now. He is much safer under his wing than by the side of either of us.”
Ric grimaced as he knew the man was right. Satisfied he had done all he had to, he then moved to leave before stopping once more. He had to ask. “What’s your name?”
Quietly, the man smiled. “Nowadays they call me David.”
🔹🔹 🦇 🔹🔹
Now.
Brimstone burst forth, her huge black-as-coal frame roaring with intense flames. As a flaming fist came hurtling towards him, the hulking Mister Damage, rooted himself to the ground, throwing up his hands and catching the fiery creature’s fist in the air with ease. Yet while Avery’s grew paw totally enveloped Brimstone’s burning implement, he couldn’t sustain it for longer than a second as agonising pain coursed through his body, his stony skin melting from the heat. Pulling back by reflex, Avery stumbled back and Raptor moved in, closing the distance and skidding across the dirt, around to the strongman’s flank. There, Raptor brandished his taloned gauntlet and raked Avery across the back. And though Avery felt entirely unfazed by the three superficial claw marks on his hide, as Raptor squeezed his index finger against his thumb Avery realised the rogue’s play. In an instant, the plastic explosive inlays Raptor had painted across his body detonated, and he was staggered further.
Meanwhile, Batman was focusing on the creeps there were more his pace. Naturally, the first thing he did was disarm Flag, wrapping his grappling wire around his wrists and yanking his sidearm free from his grip. Then, as Flag scrambled to find another weapon, Killer Croc pushed in. As big and scary as he was, Dick knew his secret: he was just a tall man with sharp teeth and a nasty skin condition. So while Croc swiped at the new Batman with rage and determination, Dick faced little to not resistance. In fact, he had elected to play with his food - to give Waylon a taste of his own medicine - evading each of his attacks with his signature acrobatic flair. He leapt up as Croc lunged for him, turning through the air as he sailed overhead. Once, twice, three times, and four times he somersaulted blindly, spinning leg over head. He stuck the landing with grace, hardly a surprise. Except to the rest of his combatants, it was plenty of a surprise, so much so that as Avery hit the ground dazed, the whole squad turned their gaze on the attention-seeking vigilante. Especially Raptor.
Dick readied himself, knowing Flag would have something new up his sleeve. But as Batman turned to face Flag, who returned with a new firearm equipped, all the while evading Croc’s attacks, he saw that the squad’s commander wasn’t training on him at all. Instead, Rick Flag had a stunned Ethan Avery in his sights. No worry, there surely wasn’t much that could break through Mister Damage’s impenetrable skin, except—
Oh no. Flag was packing a high-energy photon-powered Light-Rifle. A hit from that could cut through most anything. But not the Batsuit, not this one. That was the theory at least, Alfred hadn’t exactly been rushing Dick to test it. So as Flag’s finger stroked at the trigger, Dick dived forward, placing himself between Flag and Avery. Then, with a high-pitched whine a flash of light glanced across the black Bat insignia on Dick’s chest. He was alive, except… Dick collapsed to the ground, his chest searing.
“Goddamn it, Batman!” Flag exclaimed. “Always have to make things difficult.”
As Flag approached, Dick looked over to Avery, who was pinned down by Brimstone.
“Okay, I’m done playing,” Flag shook his head. “Croc, sic.”
Waylon Jones licked his lips and cracked his knuckles. “Ohohoho,” he grumbled, “I’m been lookin’ forward to tasting bat meat!” He approached the incapacitated Batman and grabbed his head from behind with one hand, dragging him to his feet. “Let’s give it a try.”
“Croc, stop!” exclaimed a voice. Dick squirmed in Croc’s grasp to look for who it was, but couldn’t see. But from the sound of it, it was Raptor. Ric.
“Raptor, you don’t give orders,” Flag shook his head. “Croc, git!”
“Killing Batman is a terrible idea! Ask Waller!” Raptor persisted. Did he know something he wasn’t supposed to? “We kill him and suddenly she’s dealing with the wrath of the whole Justice Legion.”
“I don’t care about any Justice Legion…!” Croc growled, snapping his razored maw open and shut.
“Flag, order him to stop!” Raptor appeared in Dick’s vision as he charged up to Flag’s side. “We don’t need this kind of heat. The girl’s already secured the target.”
Flag smiled. “It’s already decided. Waller said if we ever needed to off a super to get the job done, JL or not, to not hesitate, come hell or high water. She can take whatever they wanna try throwing at her.”
Raptor said nothing at first, his shoulders dropping. That’s when Dick knew he knew. Quietly, Raptor replied, “Please.”
Nothing.
“Okay,” Raptor balled up his fist.
Dick watched as Raptor - Ric - dived towards him, claws out, gunning for Croc. But Flag was quicker on the draw. A single shot rang out a bullet punched through Raptor’s shoulder. But he pushed on, unaffected by what should have been unbearable pain. So Flag fired again before Raptor could close the distance, then again. Twin bullets through the back of his thighs. Still he kept standing.
“Goddamn it, Raptor,” Flag spat. “Don’t make me blow your brain bomb!”
“Do it!” he dared him.
Flag cursed, “Croc!”
Croc responded, dropping Batman to the ground and labouring to drive his scaly fist against Raptor’s head, knocking him to the ground.
Flag glanced quickly at his watch. “Croc, ditch the Dark Knight and grab the traitor. Girl,” he looked to the fiery Brimstone, “Make sure the target’s secured.”
“What about me?” came a voice. The voice of the new Batman. But the voice echoed and verberated far too much coming from someone who was meant to be sprawled out on the floor than a foot from Croc’s feet. Alert, Croc turned back to the patch of grass he had deposited the Caped Crusader to find it newly vacant.
A hearty laugh rang through the windy field, over the tops of the tents.
“You never told me he laughs,” Flag looked to Croc, thoroughly disappointed.
“I s’pose this one does…” Croc replied.
“Give it up, Batman!” Flag cried. “We have Avery, and you’re outnumbered three to one!”
“Am I?” replied the voice of the Bat.
From out of the sky, a red-and-green blur sailed down. Rising from the ground now stood the new Robin, a girl with golden hair. Beside her landed Batgirl in black and gold, then Batman beside her, escrima sticks in hand.
“Second-rate Batman and his two third-rate sidekicks?” Croc sneered. He looked over his shoulder to Brimstone who kneeled with her knee on Avery’s back, immobilising him. “Colour me scared.”
Then came another voice. “Try three.”
Jets roared through the air as a black-and-silver streak soared. A large metal object collided with Brimstone, knocking her off of Avery and sending her tumbling. Her flames flared up brighter and more intense, but the armour of the airborne Batwing only absorbed the heat she was pumping out. He landed by Avery’s side and helped him to his feet.
Now it was Mister Damage, Batwing, Batgirl, Batman and Robin against a discombobulated Brimstone, an overeager Killer Croc, and Flag the squishy human with a cool gun. From the ground, as he continued to haemorrhage blood painlessly, Raptor grinned. “Come on, Rick, you know we’re beat.”
Flag paused, sizing up each of his foes before sighing. “Croc, grab Raptor. Brimstone, ready manoeuvre H-03.”
As Avery and the Bat Family encircled the Suicide Squad, Croc scraped Raptor up off of the ground. The group of rogues then huddled up, each grabbing a hold of Brimstone, whose flames she had tempered to allow them to do so. Then, as Dick shared one knowing, appreciative look at Raptor, as Dick watched the man witness the extent of Dick’s new found family and smile an uneasy smile, Brimstone bent her knees and then launched up into the sky, sending tremors through the ground below and leaving a trail of flame in her wake, carrying the whole squad from the scene. Dick looked to Avery, whose face finally began to regain some of his human colouring. The strongman smiled, knowing he was safe.
🔹🔹 🦇 🔹🔹
“I wonder if I should tell him,” said Dick, standing atop a cliff overlooking the bright lights of the circus in the distance.
“Who?” asked Steph.
“Mr Haly,” Dick replied. “That I was Robin. That I’m Batman. I wonder if he’d be proud.”
“What do you think?”
“I wonder if my parents would be proud.”
Steph laughed. “Are you kidding me?” she moved closer. “From the sounds of it, what they wanted was for you to put your talents to use. I don’t see a better use for your flippage than fighting crime in Gotham City!”
“I don’t know,” he joined her with a grin, “It’s not exactly efficient.”
“Yeah, well neither is giving up backflips and spandex and becoming a cop for two years!” she teased him.
“You’re not wrong,” Dick laughed, shaking his head.
“Oh my god...!” someone else spoke. Behind the Dynamic Duo, Barbara Gordon approached the edge of the cliff just enough to see the full glory of Haly’s Circus from above. “So this is where you grew up.”
Steph looked between Dick and Babs, the latter of whom still hid between her black cowl, and silently nodded, excusing herself to go find Luke, leaving the pair alone.
“You saw it down there earlier,” Dick replied, inviting her up to the edge with him.
“Right, but up here it looks so big and… bright,” Barbara moved towards him, her eyes still transfixed on the neon lights.
“Here’s a Flying Graysons secret for you:” Dick raised his eyebrow, “Everything looks better from up in the sky.”
Barbara scoffed loudly. “Woooow,” she exclaimed dryly. “Did Superman give you that one?”
“What? No!” Dick insisted.
“The old one or the new one?”
“That was a Dick Grayson original!” he protested.
“Yeah? Well stick to backflips, Boy Wonder!” Barbara teased.
Wow, Dick thought to himself. Thinking back to how they argued when Babs first took up Betty’s old mantle, how little they had spoken since, it felt good to be this loose with her again. Maybe there was hope for their friendship after all.
A short silence was then punctuated by Dick looking off to the horizon, by Babs catching him slipping into a staple Batman brood. “What is it?” she asked.
“I need to follow them,” Dick said, clearing carrying some more darkness than was usually characteristic of him. “The Suicide Squad. They’re villains, but they’re being forced into this, their lives threatened. I need to confront the one pulling their strings.”
“Well,” Babs began, “Are you talking Robin 4.0 with you?”
Dick looked over to her. “Do you think I should?”
Babs smiled. “Maybe,” she replied. “She might help you keep balanced, not do something you might regret. Batman needs a Robin.”
“You should like Tim,” Dick kissed his teeth.
“I should like I know what I’m talking about.”
And she did.
🔹🔹 🦇 🔹🔹
Even despite not being able to consult Bruce’s notes in his stolen black casebook, it didn’t take much of the Dynamic Duo’s time to locate the base of operations of Task Force X. Deep in the swamplands of Terrebonne Parish, Louisiana, the concrete fortress of Belle Reve Penitentiary loomed large. Publicly, it was regarded as a maximum security facility for the containment of metahuman criminals and other otherwise uncontainable threats. What the public didn’t know were the conditions these inmates lived in.
Up from an empty observation deck, lit only by the glow of the myriad monitors, Batman and Robin looked upon the feeds from a swathe of cells. Most lived in their own filth, many had to fight in illegal rings to earn their lunch, or do favours for the guards if they were too weak to compete.
“How do they get away with this?” spoke Steph, harrowed and horrified. “Don’t they have inspectors?”
“Same way Arkham gets away with it,” Dick replied coldly, sadly all too used to this reality.
Steph scoffed, “This place makes Arkham look like Disneyland.”
“Most people on the street reckon the kind of people that end up here deserve it,” Dick explained. “To them, this is justice.”
Steph felt a pit swell in her stomach, as she realised she couldn’t say for sure that she wholly disagreed. “Who’s in charge here?”
“Her name’s Amanda Waller,” Dick recounted. “One of the most feared people in the US government, despite the fact she holds no formal position.”
“Why’s that? Is she a metahuman?”
“She doesn’t need to be.”
In silence, the pair continued into the facility before coming to a tall wooden door. Waller’s office.
“That was easy,” Steph laughed.
“It would be,” Dick shrugged. “We were invited in.”
Dick moved forward, placing his gloved hand flat on the door and pushed it inwards. There, the doors opened out into a large office, immaculate and grandiose. In the centre of the office was a desk housing an amber lamp that lit the room in a claustrophobic glow. Behind the desk stood the small but mighty Amanda Waller in a magenta pantsuit.
“Good evening, Batman,” Waller spoke plainly. Steph looked around the room, searching every shadow. They truly were alone.
“I thought you shut down this operation years ago,” Dick shook his head, sick at the sight of the vile woman who would subject someone to what she put the members of the squad through.
“I certainly wanted everyone to think I did,” Waller replied with a playful smirk. “Task Force X is as operational as it's ever been.”
“Batman said the Suicide Squad was over,” he affirmed. “That you were through playing a wicked god with people’s lives.”
“And that’s what he wanted you to think,” she smiled. “And I do not play God with anyone’s lives. No, the ones who do that are your Jokers, your Black Mantas, sometimes even your Lex Luthors. They wreak havoc without consequence, without cause or concern for anything but themselves. Sometimes not even themselves.”
“So what do you do?” Stephanie interjected.
“Was I talking to you, little girl!?” Waller barked suddenly before turning her attention back on Batman. “I am their cause and their greatest concern. I take that havoc, that chaos that we all know is unavoidable, and I channel it, I focus it, and I make sure it’s only the bad guys who get hurt.”
“And the civilians who get in the way?” Dick challenged her.
But Waller simply shrugged. “Nobody’s perfect.”
In an instant, Dick lurched forward, arching his back and pounding his fist on Waller’s desk. But she just froze, unimpressed. Steph however flinched back, seeing a new side to her mentor and friend.
“You’re done,” said Dick firmly. “I won’t stop til there’s nothing left of your operation, til all of your victims are back where they belong somewhere that respects their rights.”
“And how are you going to do that?”
“Are you really asking me that?” Dick sneered, gesturing to his cloak and general regalia. “I’ll tell the Justice Legion what’s happening out here in the swamp. Hell, I’ll tell President Cale. She hates metahumans, good or bad, and as much as she’d love to see them suffer she wouldn’t allow her government to make any use of them, not when she’s trying to prove we don’t need superheroes.”
“Then tell her,” Waller gestured to the dial-phone that sat on her desk. “But first I’ll tell you just what I said to the real Batman when he came for my operation: I know who you really are under that mask.”
Steph kissed her teeth. “You’re bluffing.”
“She’s not,” Dick replied, his eyes fixed in a staring contest with the devil woman. “But I don’t care.”
“That’s what he said,” Waller chuckled. “Then I gave him part two.” She looked to the young Robin ahead of her. “I know who she is too. I know who all of you are, Dick Grayson. And I could out any or all of you if I needed to. Stephanie, Helena, Tim, Jason, Barbara, Bruce.”
Dick stood still, quietly seething.
“If people knew Bruce Wayne was Batman, or - oh God above - if they knew Jason Todd, streetboy-turned-fully indoctrinated rich boy, was the one who brutalised the ones who dared protest against the actions of the Wayne family… God, Gotham might just implode.”
Stephanie blinked, paralysed. She was ready for a tense confrontation, but she thought they’d be celebrating putting the fear of God in this woman by now, not at her mercy. “Batman…” she mumbled. “Dick, we can’t.”
“Oh, you can,” Waller leaned forward with a devilish grin, provoking him. “There’s always a choice, Dick Grayson. You just have to live with the consequences.”
And while Dick absolutely had a choice, it was already made for him. Free the Suicide Squad or endanger the lives of his family and threaten Gotham’s complete upheaval. There was no choice; once again he was helpless.
🔹🔹 🦇 🔹🔹
Ethan Avery huffed and puffed, his heart nearly bursting as he dived into the nearby Blüdhaven alley, having successfully evaded the Suicide Squad’s capture. Still, he had been outed, and now the task force of villains would continue to hunt him. Haly’s Circus had been the perfect cover, but that wasn’t an option anymore. Where could he hide, now that he knew the dogs would never stop chasing him?
“There you are, I was worried they’d gotten to you first.”
Avery jumped at the voice of yet another mysterious figure. He wasn’t quite at peak strength, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t still throw a good punch, “Who are you? Are you with them?”
“I’m no friend of Task Force X, Corporal. In fact, you could call me their nemesis.” Out of the shadows, a gloved hand reached out to Avery, “Come with me. I can help you.”
“Why should I trust you?”
“Corporal, if you don’t come with me, the task force that came after you tonight will find you again. Then, I doubt Batman and his friends will be there to save you.” said the voice, “While I am dedicated to bringing down the system that wants you dead, I won’t ask you to fight, not if you don’t wish to. Whether you join our cause or not, I am your greatest chance at survival.” The hand stretched out further, “So...are you with me?”
As sirens began to blare behind him, Avery knew there was no more time to deliberate. He took the man’s hand. “Okay.”
“Good,” smiled the man. “Now let’s get moving. We’ve got some busy months ahead of us.”
Next: The team unwinds in Suicide Squad #13 - Coming July 7th
And
The shadows creep in Batman & Robin #7 - Coming July 21st
Posted Jun 17, 2021, 12:51 AM UTC