Suicide Squad (30 page)

“We got us a bingo,” Boomer said. “We can dot the ‘I’ now.”

The drone slipped through the window and glided into the station.

Flag enlarged the video on his cell. “Can you move it over to the right? About forty-five degrees? I think I see something.”

“Yeah, mate. I’m seeing it, too.” An image of Incubus filled the screen. He was talking to his sister.

“Our big bads,” Deadshot said.

Incubus went still for just a moment then he turned and looked at them. Harley watched as he lifted a hand and pointed at the camera.

“Holy pizza,” she said. “He sees us. He knows we’re watching.” Incubus made a flicking movement with his hand and a pulsing tentacle of light shot from his fingers. A moment later the video turned to static, and died. “Something tells me that is
not
a technical error.”

Boomer shook his head. “Wish it was, Looney Tunes. But no.”

Flag stared at the static-covered screen as if by staring long and hard enough, he would make the video return. But nothing happened.

“Boomer, you got another drone in your coat?”

“Another big fat no, mate.”

“Well, that really sucks.” Harley blew a gum bubble, then burst it when it was the size of her head. “What do we do now?”

GQ stared at the blank screen, trying to come up with possible alternatives. “Flag, push comes to shove I have only one real idea. It might even work.”

“Yeah? What?”

“The demo charge is still in the subway.”

Flag shook his head. “No. I thought about that, too, and I ruled it out.”

GQ wasn’t about to let it go. “Why not? There’s a tunnel right under the building. I believe it can take out the big one, if we get in its face and distract it. I can do it.”

Flag was adamant. “No. The problem is you only have two seconds once you arm it. Enchantress could have magically transported herself away in time, but you can’t. None of us can. It would be a one-way trip.”

“I know,” GQ said. “I understand, but we literally have no other choice.”

“The concept is acceptable. The choice of personnel isn’t. I need you with me here. If we do this, you have to choose a man.”

GQ wasn’t about to let Flag dictate terms to him. “I understand, but I’m not going to ask any of my men to do something like that.”

“Then do it by lottery. Give them the chance to be the hero. It doesn’t have to be you.”

“It means exactly that. None of them have the training I have. Flag, trust me, I went through all the possibilities. Ultimately there’s only one choice who can get it done. You’re looking at him.”

Flag didn’t want to give in. Letting him go meant he’d never see GQ alive again, but he also recognized that there was no way GQ would send someone else in his place.

They embraced, and GQ went off to brief his men. Each one tried to change his mind, each one wanted to take his place, but he overruled them all.

* * *

Croc watched from a short distance away as GQ and Kowalski inventoried their explosives. They had hand grenades, 40mm grenades, blocks of C-4, and detcord. Kowalski dumped his ruck and a large magnetic limpet mine fell out. GQ saw it and laughed.

“Seriously, Kowalski? We’re not here to sink a Russian destroyer.”

Kowalski stared at it. “Huh? Oh, right—that’s from my last op.”

“Just thought of something,” GQ said as he saw Gomez walk past. “Gomez, you, Kowalski, and the others come with me. We passed a sporting goods store about a block back. We’re going to need some stuff.” He turned back to Kowalski. “And the limpet mine stays here.”

“Yes, sir,” Kowalski saluted. “It stays here.”

* * *

The door to the sporting goods shop was locked and its windows were still intact. During the apocalypse, people would break into food, bars, and weapons stores, but baseball gear wouldn’t necessarily enter their minds.

GQ kicked down the door, then stepped inside.

“We need scuba tanks, filled, masks, and swim fins.”

Kowalski looked confused. “There probably are more expensive things we could loot, sir.”

Gomez shook his head. “The subway’s flooded, dumbass, but don’t trip. I’ll pay for it on your card.”

* * *

Croc entered the store and found the SEALs. “I’m going with you,” he said, not expecting an argument. He wasn’t used to dealing with SEALs.

“We got this,” GQ said. “I’m sure Flag needs you for something.”

“I’m not asking, bruh.” Croc stood next to the man, trying to intimidate him. “I live underground. You’re just tourists.”

“Two things, Scales,” the SEAL replied. “One, you’re right. You’d be an asset down there. But two, don’t stick your face in mine. Try that again and we’ll see if a lizard can grow another head.”

“My name is Croc. As in crocodile. Not a lizard. Not an alligator. Crocodile.”

“And how is that my problem?” GQ said as he pushed past Croc and led his men back to Flag and company.

Croc definitely wasn’t used to dealing with Navy SEALs. But he was a fast learner.

The SEALs and the Suicide Squad prepped for their dual assaults.

Flag checked his gear. Harkness inspected each of his boomerangs, gauging them to determine the perfect aerodynamics. A nick here or cut there would throw off their balance and spell the difference between success and death.

Harley checked her magnum, aiming it like a movie detective going against the mob. Done, she twirled the gun and slipped it into its holster.

“Ready when you are, boys,” she said, chuckling.

Diablo was on one knee, praying. Katana crouched, going through her daily ritual. She held her sword as if it was a baby, and whispered to it.

“What’s up with her?” Boomer asked. “She one of yours or one of ours?”

“Some things are hard to know for sure.”

“True that, Flag, but what’s her story with the sword? I mean, c’mon, mate. She’s yakkin’ at it like it’s listening.”

“The man who killed her husband used that sword,” he replied. “His soul is now trapped inside. That’s who she’s talking to.”

“His soul is inside the sword? Right. You do know that makes no sense.”

Deadshot was walking past but stopped. “We got a guy with us who makes fires come out of his fingers. You’re sure you know the boundaries between sense and nonsense?”

Katana completed her ritual. Boomer turned away.

“Well, you know what they say about the crazy ones?”

Deadshot turned to see Harley blowing more gum bubbles.

“Yeah. I know.”

Flag waved for everyone to quiet down. Boomer leaned in to Deadshot and whispered.

“This when we get the big, rousing booyah speech? You know, how we’re all a team and crap?” Before Deadshot could answer, Flag started to speak.

“Everyone stay in line. We’re bugging out now.” He headed out and the others followed. Boomer stared at Deadshot, confused.

“That was the big ‘win one for the Gipper’ speech?”

“One way or another, it’s going to be a short fight,” Lawton observed. “Maybe he thought a short speech is all it deserved. ’Sides, we’re fighting for our lives. Do we really need a speech to do our best?” Deadshot cocked his wrist magnums and followed the others out.

Boomer stood for a while longer. Then he shrugged and followed.

Everyone dies eventually.

* * *

“Pay attention, everyone,” Flag said. “Bad as it’s been, something tells me it’s about to get that much worse. Listen to my instructions and most of us might just survive.”

“You’re a real cheerleader, Flag,” Deadshot said. “Makes us all tingly inside wanting to follow your lead.”

“Whatever turns you on,” Flag said, smiling.

* * *

Wearing the scuba tanks they appropriated from the sporting goods store, GQ and his SEALs swam through the darkness, their mask lights barely piercing the murky water.

Croc didn’t require gear or light. He moved on his own through the dark. He found an air pocket at the top of the tunnel, surfaced, took in a deep breath, then plunged back into the water and pressed forward. The body of a drowned man floated in front of him, blocking his way. Nonchalantly, he pushed it aside and swam on.

* * *

Flag and the others made their way inside the station. They quickly moved past the fallen soldiers, then headed for the subway platform. Deadshot walked alongside Flag.

“You must really love this girl—and no way you look like the loving kind,” he said. “No offense meant.”

“I’m not. I always thought love was bullshit.” Flag shot Lawton a glance. “Hey, don’t look at me like I’m nuts. I’m being serious.”

“Yeah, I know,” Deadshot said. “Just hard to believe. I mean, you know what kind of person I am, but even I found love.”

“She left you.”

“Yeah, there is that, but I found it. And it was mine to lose. Which I did—and that’s my point.”

“Actually, Lawton, that’s
my
point. Love’s tenuous. It doesn’t last. Hell, I don’t think it can last. Look, I get lust, desire, mutual benefit… whatever. But actual love? I rated that with UFOs. Lots of believers, but no proof.”

“Then you met June,” Deadshot said.

Flag nodded. “Yeah. Then I met June.”

They walked another few hundred feet in silence. Then Deadshot turned to Flag, as serious as Flag had ever seen him.

“Well, whatever you have to do, know I got your back.”

Flag was taken by surprise. The world was most definitely changing. Faster than he could believe. Faster than he could adapt. But for once, Flag approved of the change.

Hell
, he thought. Even while marching into hell Flag realized he was actually happy for once.
Yeah. The changes keep coming. Who’d have ever guessed?

They quietly moved through a tunnel, ready for whatever the enemy brought to them. Deadshot scanned the place with his monocle. No heat patterns ahead. They were in the clear. They reached the staircase leading up—to where the drone had showed Enchantress was waiting.

June would soon be his again, but Flag wasn’t sure what he’d find when he found her. If it was June, he knew he’d have to find a way to prevent Enchantress from ever taking her over again, but if it was the witch, he knew there was no alternative but to go into battle against a woman who would kill them all without a moment of regret.

Enchantress anxiously paced the hall at the far end of the building. The septagram was behind her, like the one Flag had seen in June’s bathroom, mystically floating off the ground, covering the entirety of the back wall. It looked like a mechanical bonfire with rows of gears that brought to mind a hungry, clamorous grinder.

“Okay, so tell me,” Harley said as quietly as she was capable of being. “Am I dreaming that thing, or does everyone else see all that trippy magic stuff? I mean, I’m off my meds, so you can’t go by me.”

“Hell yeah, it’s real,” Boomer said. “It’s like I’m flashing back to my college days, only I was never that high.”

“None of it’s making any sense,” Harley agreed. “And that’s coming from me.”

Deadshot turned to Flag. “C’mon, man,” Lawton said as he pointed to Enchantress, swaying to music only she could hear. “Your girlfriend’s there, right? So run up to her. Give her a big kiss and tell her to stop this garbage.”

Flag disagreed. “We need to follow the plan we already have. We draw out the big one, and then my guys detonate the bomb under him.”

“Yeah, fine, but where is the big guy?”

Enchantress was too busy powering the machine to pay attention as Flag and company moved deeper into the room, searching for Incubus. Then she spoke.

“Colonel Flag, is that you?” she said, her voice a mockery of June’s. “Good. I’ve been waiting all night. You can step out of the shadows now.”

Deadshot grabbed Harley’s arm before she could do something stupid, and pulled her close to him.

“Stay with me and stay quiet.”

“Why are you here?” Enchantress said, feeling their presence even if she couldn’t see them. “Is it because the soldier led you here? For Waller? But, boys—and I include you too, Harley Quinn—why do you serve those who cage you? I am your ally, and I know what you want.

“Exactly what you want.”

Wind and white light exploded suddenly in the room.

* * *

They are lost in timeless white space, and they are overwhelmed by it.

Deadshot is surrounded by the white. He feels his arm being tugged. He looks down and sees Zoe trying to pull him away. He looks up again and he is on a sidewalk in Gotham City. It is still night.

He smiles at her, confused, but the feeling of love is rushing through him.

“Zoe? But how did we get here?”

“C’mon, Daddy,” Zoe says, tugging at him. “We have to go. Before he comes.”

“Who?”

Suddenly, a dark-gloved hand grabs his shoulder.

Batman.

Batman tries to pull him away from Zoe, but Deadshot launches himself at his attacker, punching him in the face, sending him staggering back. The Bat, frightened, starts to turn. Deadshot activates his wrist magnums and fires them. Batman falls to the ground, shot between the eyes with a hollow-point.

“Daddy,” Zoe cries out. She is staring at her father. Bewildered, he sweeps her up in his arms and they run.

* * *

Harley Quinn’s vision blurs from the white blast.

She rubs the light from her eyes and realizes she is dressed in purple sweats. One baby is attached to her hip while a toddler holds onto her leg.

The kitchen is something to behold, with large, colorful appliances ready to perform any task a modern woman can possibly need. She stirs the oatmeal on the gas stove while she texts her daycare providers. Harley Quinn is a busy mom.

Actually, her name is now Harley Ker. She embroidered it on a lovely cross-stitch sampler. She sees her loving husband, Jo, enter the room amidst wild applause and great laughter. He is dressed in a natty purple business suit, just the article of clothing necessary for a busy exec.

Harley immediately has a glass of freshly squeezed orange juice in her hand. The oranges come from their backyard garden. Jo Ker checks his smart phone calendar.

“Honey, what’s for dinner tonight? I’ll pick up some wine on the way home.”