Teen Titans Fan Fiction ❯ Teen Titans: Future Storm ❯ Bullets ( Chapter 29 )

 

“Teen Titans: Future Storm”

Arc 6: “Justice”

Chapter 4: “Bullets”

Disclaimer: Teen Titans and Justice League belong to DC Comics and Warner Brothers, not me. Many of the characters you will see in here don't belong to me, but some of them do belong to me. I make no profit from this story, as I'm not writing professionally for DC; I'm just doing this for my own amusement.

Author's note: The proverbial crap has hit the proverbial fan and it's not going to stop there. The Titans and the League still have much, much more suffering to endure via the Society's machinations. In the meantime, you'll also be seeing the perspective of the ordinary humans, represented by one lone detective. Here goes.

Two men stood outside the holding cell of one Peter Maxwell Allen. Both of them were in their mid-forties and dressed similarly in button-down shirts and slacks. The former was a Caucasian man with whitening blond hair and the latter was a Hispanic man with brown hair that was starting to go gray. The Caucasian man, Detective Geoff Faerber, wore a white shirt with black tie and gray slacks. The Hispanic man, Detective John “J” Perez, wore a light gray-green shirt with a red tie and black slacks.

“Has he snapped out of it yet?” Faerber asked.

“No, he hasn't,” J replied. “And I'm not surprised. The kid isn't a cold-blooded killer. Doing something like that had to mess him up inside.”

“I don't care how messed-up inside he is,” Faerber retorted. “People like that, with that much power, don't get to go around being that reckless. When he wakes up . . .”

“You'll do what?” J asked. “He's just a kid.”

“Which is exactly why he shouldn't have been running around playing vigilante,” Faerber replied. “Kids shouldn't be doing the jobs of trained officers of the law.”

“Except most of the time, us `trained officers of the law' have been pretty much helpless against meta-criminals,” J rejoined. “Believe it or not, we need kids like him, kids who are willing to do something good with the abilities they got.”

“I can vaguely understand that,” Faerber admitted. “That's why there's the Watchmen Act. If these kids wanna fight crime that badly, they ought to be under some kind of oversight. That way, things like what happened to Richard Snow don't happen again.”

“Don't you get the feeling that things aren't quite right here?” J asked.

“What do you mean?” Faerber asked.

“The Titans are usually more careful than that,” J explained. “Even when they were in the middle of fights with meta-criminals, they'd be more careful about innocent people if they were in the area.”

“They slipped up,” Faerber stated. “What's so hard to grasp about that?”

“That's it, huh?” J remarked. “After all the good the Titans have done all these years, that's it. Screw them. Let them become government agents.”

“You do realize that you're sounding like that terrorist, right?” Faerber commented.

“You do realize that you're being suckered, right?” J shot back. “There's something not quite right here. If you checked out the scene where Snow was killed, you might see that something doesn't add up.”

“You and your conspiracies,” Faerber remarked with a derisive snort. “The answer's right in front of you. These kids, these metas, they're out of control and we need to rein them in before it's too late.”

“Too late for what?” J asked. “You make them sound like ticking time bombs.”

“That's because they are,” Faerber declared. “Ticking time bombs that could wipe out human life as we know it if we're not careful. The Watchmen Act's the best solution; they get to play hero and we get to keep them in check.”

“You do realize that you're sounding like those alarmists, right?” J commented, turning Faerber's earlier statement on him.

“I've got a right to be alarmed,” Faerber retorted. “You got people with the power of freaking Superman, for Christ's sake! Hell, one of those people took over a country twenty years ago all on their lonesome! You think people can actually be safe with people like that roaming the world?”

“It's like talking to a brick wall,” J muttered, starting to walk away.

“Hey, where are you going?” Faerber asked. “I'm not done yet!”

“I am,” J answered quietly.

The middle-aged detective made his way to his desk and began looking over the paperwork. In the background, the television set was chattering. He could hear enough to know that it was a replay of the Justice League's public conference last week. In light of that NewsNet webcast, the League needed all the positive spin it could put on this.

“We're not trying to conquer anything,” J could hear Superman saying. “That has never been our purpose. What we're trying to do is protect people. That's why we came together . . . and Batman took it to a level that the rest of us don't quite agree with. However, his reasons are understandable.”

“Understandable?” another detective, Mark Morrison, uttered in shocked anger. “They call setting up a shadow League to bust up other people's countries understandable?”

“They got a screwed-up definition of `understandable,'” Faerber remarked, having followed J. “Then again, these `superheroes' think they can do whatever the hell they want and expect us norms to go along with it. Arrogant bastards, all of them.”

“I'd like to know where all this is coming from,” J remarked.

“Good old investigative journalism, that's what,” Morrison replied. “It's about time someone looked under the curtain.”

“I'm glad you can be so accepting of what's presented to you,” J drawled sarcastically.

“Quit looking for hidden agendas in everything,” Morrison said.

“Morrison, if you were a competent detective at all, you'd know that there's almost always a hidden agenda somewhere,” J retorted.

“Really?” Morrison asked. “Because the only `hidden' agenda I see is theirs.”

“These people have been saving the world for years,” J brought up. “You'd think we'd give them the benefit of the doubt before we start making accusations.”

“We the actual police have been busting gangs for years and the public hardly gives us the benefit of the doubt when the news starts its spiels about us being corrupt,” Faerber answered. “I don't see why these meta-freaks, who by the way were never sanctioned by any kind of law, should be treated like saints.”

“Watch the language,” J said.

“You know what your problem is?” Faerber asked. “You put too much faith in these superheroes. Just because they throw on costumes and wave around flashy powers doesn't mean they don't have feet of clay.”

“I get that,” J answered. “Doesn't mean we tar them all with the same brush.”

“Where were you when Nightstar was breaking into our morgue?” Morrison asked. “When she attacked Nova Blue officers?”

“All right, I'll admit that's not easily justifiable, but there's something more going on here,” J replied. “I can feel it in my bones.”

“Well, your bones are getting brittle,” Morrison cracked.

“Screw you guys,” J said. “I'm gonna see the chief.” With that said, he exited for Chief Nauck's office and knocked on the window of her door.

“Who is it?” Chief Nauck asked.

“It's Perez,” J replied. “Mind if I come in?”

“Make it fast,” Chief Nauck answered.

J entered Chief Nauck's office and looked around, noticing a chair in front of her desk. He remained standing, not wanting to insult her by taking it upon himself to sit down. Finally, he bit the bullet and spoke what was on his mind. “I'd like to investigate Richard Snow's death,” he said.

“What for?” Chief Nauck asked.

“Some things just don't add up,” J replied. “What was he even doing in the tech sector that night? I read up on him and he wasn't a caterer for any tech firms. Even if he was, I don't see what he'd be doing out that late. Has the autopsy on him even been done yet?”

“Why do we need an autopsy?” Chief Nauck asked. “We know what killed him.”

“Even with that, there was something else going on,” J insisted.

“Look, John, I know you have a soft spot for these superheroes, but they broke the law,” Chief Nauck said. “They were breaking the law just by existing, anyway, but then they made it worse on themselves. As officers of the law, we have to enforce it and that means that we crack down on vigilantes.”

“I know you don't like it, but who's going to stop someone like Darkseid or Imperiex if they invade Earth?” J asked. “Whether you want to admit it or not, metahuman heroes have spent years protecting us from those kinds of threats without expecting anything in return.”

“We can learn to take care of our own damn selves instead of expecting superheroes to protect us all the time,” Chief Nauck answered.

“What about the Watchmen Act?” J asked. “You think it's ok to have the government controlling superheroes?”

“At least that way we can actually keep them from going too far,” Chief Nauck replied.

“Ok, I'm done,” J said.

“Just like that?” Chief Nauck questioned.

“Just like that,” J replied bitterly. “It's clear that you and the rest of this damn department don't give a fig about the truth. I'm just gonna have to find out what's going on myself, aren't I?”

“You won't get any backing from this department if you do that,” Chief Nauck stated.

“I already know that,” J retorted, standing up and walking out of the chief's office.

As J exited the police station, he considered his next move. The forensic scientists had been over the crime scene with a fine-tooth comb and they'd found the remains of an adhesive substance there. They'd also taken the blood spatter off the street and Mercury's glove. He could possibly ask one of them for extra analysis. Yeah, that'd be a good next move.

He returned to the police station and made a beeline for the forensic lab. Once there, he looked around until he spotted Kate Whistler. He walked up to her and greeted her politely. “Hi, Kate.”

“Hey, J,” Kate greeted morosely.

“Something bugging you?” J asked.

“Mercury,” Kate replied. “He's not a killer. He doesn't have it in him. However Richard Snow died, it was a setup.”

“That's what I've been thinking, too,” J agreed.

“And there's something else,” Kate added. “I took a closer look at Snow's blood . . . and I found something in it. I scanned at the nanoscopic level and his blood was swarming with mechanical probes of some kind. They're starting to decay, but they're still there.”

“Where do you think it came from?” J asked.

“Could have been biomedical,” Kate theorized. “However, nanomedicine isn't being widely used yet and there's nothing in his medical record that I've found to suggest that he'd need that kind of treatment.”

“Then we should check out his doctor,” J suggested. “See if he administered any nanomedical treatments to Snow before he died.”

“Good idea,” Kate said.

J exited the forensic lab and police station, only to feel his cell phone vibrating. He pulled it out and opened it, pressing the “answer” button and holding the phone to his ear. “Hello?” he asked.

“You're in danger,” a female voice, low in timbre, replied. “Get to your car now. Do not hurry.”

J walked to his car, moving at a relaxed pace. His walk was brisk, like someone who'd just walked away from a satisfying day at work, not someone who might be a target of unseen enemies. He reached his car, a 2025 Toyomi Solaris CRV, and unlocked the door. He slipped into his car, only to hear the voice again.

“You're in your car now. Good. Drive.”

“Where?” J asked.

“You won't find your answers from Richard Snow's doctor,” the voice answered. “I can provide you with them, though. You simply have to trust me.”

“Why should I do that?” J questioned. “I don't even know how you got this number. I don't even know who you are.”

“You don't need to know who I am,” the voice responded. “You simply have to trust me.”

“Could you at least tell me why I'm in danger?” J inquired.

“Drive and I'll tell you,” the voice replied.

J turned on the loudspeaker option of his cell phone and plugged it into the holder near the gear stick. He inserted the key card into the slot to start the car and backed out of his parking space. Upon reversing into the parking lot, he drove out.

“I'm driving now,” he said. “What is it?”

“You're looking into something nobody in particular wants you to look into,” the voice explained. “Some very powerful people in particular would prefer you not look into this. They're going to try to silence you, one way or another. Consider me your guardian angel.”

“Yeah, some guardian angel,” J grumbled. “So what are these answers you said you'd provide for me?”

“You're a good cop, Perez,” the voice answered. “One of the few willing to use those critical thinking and analytical skills you mastered to make detective. One of the few who doesn't just swallow what they're fed. That makes you special and thus, I'm willing to lend you a hand.”

“Quit with the flattery and just tell me,” J insisted.

“Typical male,” the voice mocked. “Always wanting to rush to the climax. If you insist. Richard Snow, like roughly seven million and eight hundred thousand other American citizens, had a nanovirus slipped into what was supposed to be a routine flu shot. The nanovirus was linked to a satellite that had been gathering intel on metahumans for years and when triggered, it would transform those citizens into cyber-soldiers programmed with one task: to hunt and kill metahumans.”

“How do you know this?” J asked.

“I've been working this case for a week,” the voice replied. “It was almost pathetically easy to deduce after I slipped past a sufficient number of firewalls and broke a sufficient number of fingers.”

“So somebody somewhere infected nearly eight million people with a nanovirus that would turn them into mask-hunting killing machines,” J uttered, sagging slightly as the enormity of what he'd just been told caught up with him. “Who would do this? Why would they do this?”

“Ever heard of the Department of Extranormal Operations?” the voice asked.

“Not really,” J replied.

“That's because publicly, they go by Bureau of Metahuman Affairs,” the voice explained. “It's a presidential cabinet department aimed at addressing metahuman activity in America. Secretly, they've created counter-meta weaponry, some of which they've supplied to Nova Blue teams in police departments all over the nation. The OMACs are their trump card.”

“OMACs?” J asked.

“Observational Metahuman Activity Constructs,” the voice explained. “Abbreviated as OMAC. That's what the nanovirus turns the infected into. Machines whose sole purpose is to eliminate metahumans.”

“Why would they do that?” J asked.

“Because to them, metahumans are too numerous,” the voice replied. “Ninety-nine-point-five percent of the metahuman population is nuisance level at best, like kids with minor telekinetic abilities and old ladies with limited prescient talents. Not that special at all. But the remaining half percent are the people you see on the news, the people you see in the flashy costumes throwing around energy blasts and flying . . . they're what the satellite classifies as Alpha- and Beta-level threats. They're the ones the D.E.O. particularly wants to eliminate, because they're the ones with such great power that they could subjugate humanity if they wanted to.”

“But they don't want to,” J said. “Not most of them, anyway.”

“It doesn't matter to the D.E.O.,” the voice answered. “Combined with the fact that Alpha-level and Beta-level metahumans are more numerous now than they were fifteen years ago, it's convinced them that humanity is in imminent danger of extinction. That's why the OMACs were created: to `protect' humanity.”

J continued to drive, his expression growing grimmer. “Hell,” he uttered. “How . . . what the freak is wrong with these people?”

“They want to ensure that they remain top dog,” the voice replied. “It's not really about protecting the human race; it's about ensuring that the elites can maintain their dominance.”

“What about the Watchmen Act?” J asked. “If they wanna eliminate metahumans, why pass the Watchmen Act?”

“The Watchmen Act was a congressional act, not a presidential one,” the voice explained. “However, it suits the D.E.O.'s purposes. With it, they can distinguish the `manageable' metas from the `unmanageable' ones. The latter get to be wasted by OMACs.”

Suddenly, J heard a loud noise on top of his car, as though someone had just landed on it. “What the -?” he uttered before he was torn from his car and thrown out onto the sidewalk. His car, which had been moving, kept moving based on sheer inertia and crashed into another car, which ultimately produced a four-car pile-up. “What's going on?”

“Detective John Perez?” a low baritone spoke. “This is your last stop.”

J looked up and saw a man standing over him, or at least what looked like a man. He was clad in black from head to toe, the material skintight and gleaming metallically. White eyes stared out from the mask and red lines ran through the uniform and mask. All in all, the man looked very menacing.

“Who are you?” J asked.

“Spin Doctor,” the man replied.

J rose to his feet and pulled out his handgun. “Not a single step closer!” he shouted. “I'll shoot if I have to!”

“Go ahead and shoot,” Spin Doctor answered. “You'll miss.”

J flipped off the safety and opened fire. To his shock, Spin Doctor's upper body was a blur of motion as every single bullet missed the black-clad metahuman. J's eyes were wide with horror when he realized that he'd spent his entire clip on someone who was too swift to be hit by bullets. Before the detective could reload, Spin Doctor slammed him into a nearby wall at superhuman speed.

“You really ought not to poke your nose in where it's not wanted,” Spin Doctor hissed. “You might get it shot off.”

“Now I know I'm on the right track,” J managed to gasp out despite Spin Doctor's forearm on his throat. “Who do you work for? The people who came up with the Watchmen Act? You one of their goons?” He suddenly felt something squeezing his heart and screamed in pain. He looked down and saw that Spin Doctor's arm had mysteriously cut off at the wrist, a wrist that was pressed against his chest. Just as he thought he was going to die, he unexpectedly felt the squeezing against his heart stop. He looked down again and saw Spin Doctor with an electrical arrow in his arm.

“Hey there, honey,” a female voice greeted sardonically, prompting J to turn around and see the Scarlet Archer, bow in hand.

“Scarlet Archer?” J asked. “Were you the voice on my cell?”

“No, that's someone else,” Scarlet Archer replied. “She just sent me here to look out for you while she told you what you needed to know. Come on, we'd better get to the Titans before that guy recovers.”

“Something tells me that it won't take a long time for him to do that,” J said.

Scarlet Archer guided J to a crimson motorcycle with an arrow-shaped fairing. She straddled the motorcycle and told him to get on behind her. J obeyed and she handed him a spare helmet after donning her own. He put on the helmet and wrapped his arms around the archer's leather-clad waist.

“Hold on tight,” she advised before starting the motorcycle and driving away at the motorcycle's full speed of 220 mph.

“Whoa!” J exclaimed. “Slow down!”

“What?” Scarlet Archer shouted over the wind resistance from the motorcycle's speed.

“Slow down!” J shouted.

“If you say so!” Scarlet Archer hollered and slowed down to a respectable 180 mph. She rode her motorcycle all the way to a secret doorway. She parked her motorcycle and got off, J following suit. Scarlet Archer removed her domino mask and locked her eye onto the retinal scanner.

“Identity confirmed. Scarlet Archer, formerly Speedy. Welcome,” an automated voice spoke. The door slid open, allowing Scarlet Archer and J access. They stepped down a stairway, Scarlet Archer placing her mask back on as she walked. At the bottom of the stairway, the two found a pod sitting on a watery surface.

“Are we supposed to get in there?” J asked.

“It's how we get to Titans Island,” Scarlet Archer replied, stepping into the pod. J followed her inside and the pod closed over them, sinking underneath the surface and launching itself across the bay to Titans Island. Once there, it rose to the surface and opened, releasing J and Scarlet Archer, who walked up to the entrance of Titans Tower. The door slid open and the two found Bladefire on the other side.

“Scarlet Archer,” Bladefire greeted. He looked over and saw J. “Who might you be?”

“Detective John Perez,” J replied.

“Mind if we come inside?” Scarlet Archer inquired. “Detective Perez is in some serious trouble.”

“Come in,” Bladefire answered. After they entered, Bladefire guided them into the common room.

“Heh, the Tower's changed since my days as a Titan,” Scarlet Archer commented.

“No time for nostalgia,” Inferno said. “Now, who's the suit and what's going on?”

“I've been trying to investigate what really happened that night Mercury killed Richard Snow,” J explained. “I talked to forensics and they found nanomachines in his blood. When I was about to go further, someone called me, a woman, and told me that I was in danger. She explained to me that Snow was infected with some kind of nanovirus that turned him into a killing machine aimed at metahumans. Called it an OMAC.”

“Those machines haven't just gone after you guys,” Scarlet Archer said. “They're targeting metahumans everywhere.”

“We know,” Samara said. “The Steel Angels were attacked at the last stop on their tour. Of course, there were anti-meta activists protesting at that particular concert, anyway . . .”

“And then there's the Titans East,” Scarlet Archer added. “And even more others.”

“Who would do something like this to us?” Beast Girl asked. “What kind of person thinks up ways to kill us?”

“The original Batman?” Inferno cracked darkly.

“It was the D.E.O.,” J asserted. “For them, the OMACs are a way of countering the surge in the metahuman population.”

“If the government is trying to kill us, why did they pass the Watchmen Act?” Inferno wondered.

“The Watchmen Act is the public stage of the government's attempt to check metahumans,” Scarlet Archer explained. “Make the ordinary American feel like he or she's safer with metas being under the control of the government than acting on their own. Then there's the secret phase and that's where the OMACs come in.”

“How many people have been infected with that nanovirus?” Bladefire asked.

“Roughly 7.8 million, which equals the current metahuman population,” Scarlet Archer answered.

“How do you know all this?” Beast Girl asked.

“Intrigue,” Scarlet Archer replied. “She was the one who brought me and Johnny here together.”

“I'm married, by the way,” J said.

“Then you're officially a philanderer,” Scarlet Archer joked, winking at him under her mask.

“Intrigue?” Beast Girl uttered in shock. “That conspiracy nut? You had her investigating this?”

“Fine, she's wound a little too tightly and has a few too many messianic aspirations for my liking, but if anyone could find the truth, she could,” Bladefire answered. “That's why I went to her.”

“Did you guys register?” Scarlet Archer asked.

“We got an offer from Roy Harper three days ago,” Bladefire replied. “He said that if we registered, the D.E.O. would convince the president to pardon Nightstar and Mercury. We told him to shove it, and with what you just told us, there's no way in hell we're registering. Not with a system that's trying to destroy us.”

“I understand,” Scarlet Archer said. “I quit after the League registered. So did Batman and Green Lantern. That's how Intrigue found me. Put me on Johnny's tail and the rest is history.”

“What's the danger?” Bladefire asked.

“Someone tried to kill me,” J replied. “A man in a black costume. I emptied my whole clip at him and hit nothing but air. Then he . . . he did something to me. I felt like my heart was being squeezed. Scarlet Archer saved me from him.”

“As you can tell from that statement, the people behind the Watchmen Act don't want people looking behind the curtain,” Scarlet Archer remarked.

“I think I get it now,” Beast Girl said. “Mercury killing Richard Snow was what got the government to stop talking about the Watchmen Act and actually pass it. Or, to be more accurate, that was just a setup so that the government would have a reason for passing the Watchmen Act that they could sell to the public.”

“And you win the prize,” Scarlet Archer quipped.

“And as if all that wasn't enough, the villains certainly haven't been lying low,” Samara replied. “But someone keeps warning us about them.”

“We don't know who it is,” Inferno added. “They use a scrambled channel so we can't trace it and disguise their voice, so we can't even tell if it's a man or a woman. Whoever it is, their intel has been dead on. Unfortunately, Infinity, Inc. keeps interfering with us, telling us to back off because we're not registered.”

“And the grace period's pretty much up, which means we're going to be outlaws pretty soon,” Beast Girl joined in.

Just then, the mainframe console began to beep, signaling a communication signal. Bladefire answered and the grim image of Chief Nauck filled the screen. “Chief,” he greeted tonelessly. “What brings you here?”

Chief Nauck glared at Beast Girl. “Did your boyfriend get you back to the Tower that fast?” she asked harshly.

“What are you talking about?” Beast Girl asked. “My boyfriend is still in a holding cell because you don't know all the facts and yet you wanna see him in Alcatraz, anyway!”

“He's not in his holding cell anymore,” Chief Nauck retorted. “He's not in it because you broke him out of it and killed several of my men in the process. I'd gladly see you all arrested and locked up forever for that, but I've been told by the BMA that you're no longer in my jurisdiction. Since the grace period is up, you're officially criminals under the Watchmen Act and that's a federal matter. It's out of my hands now, but I'm going to enjoy seeing you all locked away like the out-of-control brats you are.” She looked more closely and spotted J. “Ah, Detective Perez, my favorite Titan supporter. Since I have no choice but to assume that you're cooperating with these killers, I'm going to have to have you arrested.”

“You can't do that!” J exclaimed. “Don't you get it? This isn't what it looks like! Don't you see what kind of setup this is?”

“We'll sort that out later,” Chief Nauck responded. “Until then, you're under arrest and I'm sending Nova Blue to bring you in.”

“I thought this was out of your jurisdiction,” Scarlet Archer said.

“You costumes are,” Chief Nauck answered. “`Detective' Perez was one of my officers and I still have jurisdiction over him.” She closed the communication.

“Who are they going to send after us?” Beast Girl asked.

“Whoever it is, they're going to make you regret asking that question,” Scarlet Archer replied bleakly.

End Notes: And things keep getting worse, don't they? Who is the false Beast Girl who set Mercury free? Who has been warning the remaining Titans about villainous activity? When is Nightstar going to return? Will Mercury awaken from his catatonic state . . . or has he already? The answers to these questions and more will be coming next chapter.

In the meantime, “Geoff Faerber” is named for Geoff Johns and Jay Faerber, the current and former Titans comic writers respectively. “J Perez” is named for J. Torres, the current artist on Teen Titans Go and George Perez, the artist who collaborated with Marv Wolfman on New Teen Titans. “Mark Morrison” is named for Mark Millar, currently a Marvel writer and formerly the writer for The Authority on DC's Wildstorm imprint, and Grant Morrison, the initial writer for the previous volume of Justice League of America.

Anyway, I'd be pretty happy if you gave me some feedback to let me know how I'm doing.