Suicide Squad (9 page)

There were eclectic shops where visitors could buy small gifts, jewelry, clothing, or even get a tattoo if that was what they wanted. There were nearly a dozen restaurants scattered along the walk, as well, from American fast food to Mexican, Thai, Persian, Indian, and more, and places to enjoy several dozen flavors of ice cream and gelato for dessert.

None of them were open now, of course, but they calmed June because they reminded her of the way things had been. The walk went on for another couple of miles before circling back.

It was peaceful, but June was more than aware that it was a deceptive calm. Midway City was ground zero for a war she still didn’t understand, and she was Patient Zero.

She, or Enchantress.

“Hey,” a voice said, interrupting her reverie. “Looks like we both needed to get away,” Rick Flag continued as he approached.

“This seemed to be a time-out. I figured I’d grab a few minutes while I could.” He glanced in the direction of the violence, which seemed to have abated for the moment. “Everything’s gone to hell and back out there. I expect I’ll get a ping any second now, telling me to haul ass.”

June remained silent, still confounded by him. Thinking back to their first meeting, with her stuck in a bathtub, she fought the urge to be embarrassed, but…

Inexplicably, she felt something when she looked at him. He was talking to her, but she wasn’t sure he cared if she listened.

“I want to make sure you stay behind,” he said. “We can’t risk anything happening to you. If you get killed, Enchantress might be freed. I don’t think anyone knows.”

Shop talk, she realized. It’s all about the job. Is there anything else to him?

“This walk is better than I thought it would be,” she said, changing the subject. She pointed to a line of stores that stretched across the other side of the river. Most of them were still intact, but all were shuttered.

“I always wanted to check it out,” she added as they slowly headed toward one of the stone bridges that crossed the waterway.

* * *

“Nice,” Flag agreed, “but you should check out San Antonio’s river walk some day. It’s better, and bigger, too.” He looked at her, trying not to stare, but that was becoming harder to do.

Keep it professional, soldier
, he told himself.

“June, if you don’t mind,” he began. “I have so many questions about Enchantress…”

For some reason she looked exasperated, but she nodded.

“Colonel, you can’t possibly have as many as I do. Ever since the cave I’ve been asking myself a hundred new questions every day. I’ve not been able to answer any of them.”

“I still have to ask,” he responded.

* * *

That’s it
, she mused, and she could feel herself becoming angry.
All I am to him is business. Nothing more.
But if he could tell she was irritated, he didn’t show it.

“Are you one person or two?” he asked, and there was a barely concealed excitement to his words. “Is she living inside you? Oh, God, this is so damn bizarre that I don’t even have a clue how to phrase it.”

June laughed at that.

“Relax,” she said, and the anger dissipated. “It confuses the hell out of me, too. I’ve had these dreams, and she’s been in them for so long now. The last few months, they seemed to keep coming back every night. Every damn night.”

“How did you two… meet?”

This is an interrogation, then. Okay
, she told herself.
Keep it professional.

“First in the dreams,” she replied. “Ultimately they led me to that cave. That’s where I first saw her in person.”

“You saw her? So there are two of you? Two distinct bodies?” Flag asked.

“I think… but then there weren’t. This will sound insane, but in the cave it didn’t look as if she was all flesh and blood. She seemed to partially be, I don’t know, smoke.

“Each time I summon her by calling out her name, I become her. Then if she says her name, she becomes me again. It’s like there are two brains living in one body, only the body keeps changing, too. Like I said, I don’t understand it, but it scares me more than anyone can know.”

“When she’s her, when you’re gone, where do you go? Are you conscious? Do you know what’s happening?”

June thought about that for a moment. “It’s like I see what she’s seeing,” she said. “I hear what she’s saying, but it’s also like I’m not there—even though I am.” She paused.

“You okay?” Flag asked.

“Rick, I don’t want to talk about her any more. I really don’t. I’m sorry. It hurts too much.” Standing at the apex of the stone bridge, she stared at the moon’s reflection rippling in the water below.

“I came here because it lets me forget. I know it’s just for a little, but it’s enough. Having to talk about all this just brings me right back. I need a break.”

* * *

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I should have waited for later.” He stared down at that same reflection, breathing in the cool air. She put her hand on his.

For support? Or for something else?

He didn’t know.

“Please understand,” she said. He kept his hand there, under hers. For a long time they stood in silence, enjoying the brisk, clear night, knowing it would change very soon now.

Then she turned to face him, tears filling her eyes.

“When I become her I never know if I’ll be her forever. I don’t know what she’s going to have me do. I don’t know who I am, and it scares the hell out of me and I don’t know what that makes me.”

“It doesn’t change you, I know at least that much,” he responded. “You’re not her. She’s just using you, and I’m going to be with you until we find some way, any way, to stop her.”

He turned his hand and cupped hers with it. She didn’t move away. He felt nervous, the same kind of nervousness he’d had back in junior high school, with Marsha Lane. He laughed aloud, and she looked confused.

“Is something wrong?” she asked.

He looked at her and smiled. “Nothing’s wrong. We’re not even in the same neighborhood as wrong.”

Then he kissed her.

She kissed him back.

No. This night wasn’t at all going to be anything like junior high.

The prison yard was on fire. Orange jumpsuits raced crazily in all directions. Guards no longer tried to keep order—they just wanted out.

Another explosion erupted in the yard, spreading the fire even faster.

Burning inmates were screaming in agony before they fell to the ground, charred and dead. Others ran in fear, in a mad, impossible attempt to outrace the flames. They all wanted to find a way out of this sudden hell.

Almost all of them failed terribly.

The prison fire department barely put out one fire when another explosion rocked the yard. Then two more. The destruction was everywhere and nobody was exempt. Not the firefighters. Not the guards. Not the prisoners.

Diablo stood in the center of the inferno, arms outstretched in victory. A king’s fiery crown rested on his head, a look of pleasure on his face as the flames danced over him.

Two guards ran toward a truck already crowded with inmates. He let the duo reach it and clamber aboard. Once they were safely inside, and the truck began to move toward the steel gates, Diablo unleashed a series of fireballs. Mercifully, there was no time for any of them to scream.

“This is my hell,” he shouted over the chaos, “and nobody’s gettin’ out.”

Diablo was on his own here in the center of the inferno.

* * *

Some of the guards and prisoners were still writhing in the fires as Flag lowered the tablet, horrified by the violence. He stared at Diablo, sitting alone in his pressure chamber.

“You did this,” he said. “You killed them all. You burned them, and stood there while they were screaming in agony.”

“I know. I didn’t need to see it again. I’ll never forget.”

Flag turned to Waller. “Why the hell wasn’t he executed, and be done with? Why keep anything with that much goddamn power alive?”

“I wanted him alive… as a precaution,” she replied.

“For what? What could possibly be so bad you’d risk working with him?”

Waller smiled, but remained silent. Flag would have to learn why on his own. He stared again at the tablet, the scene paused, frozen in a moment of time. Flames surrounded the people. He saw them screaming, saw them dying, until he couldn’t look any longer. He handed the tablet back to Waller.

He had to focus on the mission.

“That isn’t me anymore,” Diablo said.

Waller studied him then gave a brief smile. “Sure looks like you, though. Would definitely pass recognition software—but just for my edification, if it isn’t you, who is it then?”

“That guy’s dead,” Diablo said, turning away. “He’s gone. Now please, leave me alone.”

“And yet,” Waller pressed, “you
say
you’re dead, but you’re still here, while all those you killed remain dead and buried. Which is why you were brought to Belle Reve, your hell away from hell.”

“And I deserve nothing less.”

* * *

Diablo walked to the rear of the chamber and sat, his back to Waller and Flag. He had worked so hard and for so long to forget his past, to shove it away where it could no longer affect him, but seeing the video, taken so very long ago, brought it all rushing back.

He knew in his heart that he wasn’t that killer anymore, but what did it matter, when the hell he had once caused would never go away? Wasn’t it enough that he was being punished for his past? Must it continue to be dredged up day after day, month after month, year after year?

Someone always made sure he wouldn’t forget, as if he ever could. Today it was Colonel Flag. He was probably a good guy in his head, too.

“Diablo, look,” Flag said. “You wanna die in here? I don’t think so. You got a real shot at walking the block again. Having a cold beer, a nice meal. A woman.”

Diablo laughed to himself but still didn’t face his tormentors.

“Is that what I want, or what you think I want?” he countered. “You’re not the first to ask, and you won’t be the last.”

“Ask what?” Flag wanted to know.

Perhaps if he talked to them now, maybe they would go away and leave him alone with his unwanted memories. After a moment he stood and walked back to the chamber door to stare at Flag and Waller staring at him.

“You want to recruit me as a soldier,” he said, certain he was right. “Like all the others, you want to ask me if I’ll be your one-man army. You want me to use my, umm, abilities as I’ve done in the past, but now in your name, for your cause, under your, shall we say, direction.

“Really,” he continued, “this is all about your needs and wants. Not mine.” He paused, knowing he had already lost them, but he continued anyway.
May as well get it out there to these Washington big shots.
He doubted it would sink in, but just maybe it would stop the next Rick Flag or Amanda Waller from coming here and bothering him.

“I’m a man, Colonel,” he said. “Not a weapon, and I swear I’ll die in peace before I raise my fists again. I’ve done enough harm.”

Flag heard the words but he wasn’t listening to the meaning.

“Diablo, you have to understand what we’re facing here. What the world is facing.”

“The world’s always facing one kind of hell or another, Colonel. But you know the good thing about being locked up in this crematorium for the rest of my life? Nothing that happens out there has any affect on what goes on in here.”

Diablo fanned his hands and a word was spelled out in flame.

“Bye.”

By the time the flames had faded, Diablo had returned to his chair at the far end of his chamber. His back to them. Not happy. He knew he’d never be happy again, but he supposed he was content.

* * *

Flag looked to Waller as they walked away, unsuccessful.

“Your gangbanger’s now a hippy, Waller,” he said. “This whole trip was a bust.”

“We need him,” Waller insisted. “There are ways. There are always ways.”

“Maybe there shouldn’t be,” he replied. “Not for everyone. Maybe we should just leave him alone to wallow in his own guilt. For God’s sake, Waller, the man doesn’t want to kill. We should be holding a party for him, not a wake.”

“He doesn’t necessarily get what he wants, Flag,” she said without looking at him. “But me, I always get what I want. That is what I do.”

Flag looked back to see Diablo alone at the far end of the chamber, his shoulders slumped.

“Looks to me like we’ve got ourselves one of those classic standoffs you always hear about—unstoppable force, meet the immovable object.”

Waller laughed. “I prefer Archimedes. ‘Give me a lever long enough and a fulcrum on which to place it, and I shall move the world.’” She walked away from Flag without waiting for a reply.

As she did, Flag got a text and hurried to the medical office, entering the records room. June was there as she said she’d be. He locked the door as she wrapped her arms around him and pressed closer.

“I’ve been a nervous wreck,” she said.

Flag gave her a long, soft kiss.

“I’m here,” he said, “and I’ll stay here until you ask me to go.”

“Then I guess you’re not going anywhere. Just having you here makes me feel better. This is the first time since this all began that I feel, I don’t know, maybe ‘calm’ is the word. That I’ve felt the way I think I should always feel.” She peered at him intently. “I’d want you to stay until it was all over, but I know you can’t. Not until it really is over. Until she’s no longer part of me.”

They kissed again, held each other even longer, then separated, went to their corners, and resumed the work of reviewing prisoner dossiers.

He separated the dossiers into two piles—one of files that might be of some interest, while the other with files he ruled out.

“Rick, am I the reason you just don’t walk away from her? You know, Waller?” June asked. “I can see how much you hate her.”

But it was so much more complicated than simply hating her.

“Nobody walks away from Waller,” he said. “It just isn’t done. I know what you’re going through, June, but we have to play her game, and hope it works.”

June paused, and put down the dossier she was holding.