Chapter 33: The Secret Six and The Society
It had been a good day.
Max sported a big smile on his face as he walked out onto the street. He'd treated himself to a pop-up concert he'd discovered while making a list of things to do that day, "London is so much better than the last place you took me," He said on the phone.
London was infinitely cooler than Saint Tropez had been, as far as Max was concerned. His last few days had been great. It made sense, as one was a nation's capital, and the other was a significantly smaller town that rich people liked to visit. There was much more for him to do in London, as he didn't have to suit up for entertainment. That, and he could actually speak the language of the locals, which helped with everything.
Unlike in France, however, Selina wasn't about to let Max have free reign, lest he get into more trouble. He had to re-earn trust, so to speak. That meant constantly having to check in. But it was a small price to pay for the vacation he was on.
"I told you I would make it up to you, didn't I?" Selina replied over the phone during one of these wellness check calls.
Max had to admit, after a bit of a shaky start, and a few dodgy moments afterwards, he had indeed started having fun on the trip, "I'm not entirely sure that you didn't step your vacation game up so I didn't get into more trouble," He accused.
That was absolutely a reason, and Selina didn't deny it, "When you were bored, you called your little girlfriend for some fun, and wound up getting shot into space," She would do what she had to keep him stimulated and occupied so that he didn't do anything like that again.
Max scoffed, "I didn't get shot into space. I got teleported there," No rockets were used in his transport from Earth to the Auctioneer's ship, "If you're going to wag a finger at me, at least make sure you have all of the facts straight."
"I notice you didn't correct the girlfriend part. I hope you see by now why I have such a problem with your romantic proclivities, dear."
Max didn't know what he and Kara were. He was interested, and she'd made it abundantly clear that she was interested. He just didn't know if it was a good idea for either of them to get fully involved with the other. He didn't need the lecture though, even if it was from his mentor, "Careful throwing those stones with your glass house, Selina. Bet you'd rather be jetsetting with Bruce Wayne instead of me. Ooh! Or maybe with Bat-."
"-Shut up, would you?" Selina cut Max off before he could finish his thought, "Tch. You're lucky you're good travel company."
"You know you love me," Max quipped, hurrying through a crosswalk along with pedestrian traffic.
"Tell anyone and I'll deny it, then clear out your townhouse as a lesson," Selina warned, only getting some chuckles out of Max, "Anyway, don't wait up tonight."
"Why? Got another boring-ass soiree to go to?"
"No, otherwise I'd make you go for the experience," Max hissed at her, not unlike her own alias' namesake, "Mama's gotta work."
Working meant stealing. She had plans to burgle, "Are you sure you're healed up enough for that?" She had almost died while they had been in Italy. He didn't want her doing anything physical anytime soon.
"Aww," Selina cooed, much to Max's chagrin, "It's sweet that you're concerned. But I should be fine. It's been weeks since I was shot. Really, I'm feeling much better now," It was more of a matter of testing herself to make sure she was healing properly.
"It's been two weeks."
"Right. Like I said, weeks," Max let out an exasperated sigh, "Don't be that way. Enjoy your night, and be careful. I'll see you in the morning."
"Bye," Max said, ending the call. He mentally debated checking on the list of things he wanted to do while he was in London to take his mind off of whatever Selina would be up to.
...Then he decided that those things could wait. Making sure Selina didn't get taken down by some random security guard because she was too hurt to perform at her best was more important. It wouldn't take a lot of time or effort to check in on her, and then he could get right back to tearing through what London had to offer.
Of course, he couldn't let her know about it. After Selina got through jumping down his throat about it, she would never let him live down the fact that he cared that much. She got enough ammunition to use against him just from his personal life. He wasn't about to give her more to tease him about.
So he would shadow her... just to make sure everything was okay.
XxX
(A Few Hours Later)
Selina had guts, there was no question about that. Just from looking at the bank she had chosen to break into, Null could tell it would have better security than the Vatican had. Suddenly, he realized what Selina had been busying herself with by her lonesome the last two nights they had been in London.
Null kept watch over the building, his suit blending in with his surroundings to keep him concealed from sight, "I know the beat cops in London don't have guns, but do the security guards?" He wondered to himself, breaking out his phone to help with the answer, "Help me out, Google."
Stakeouts weren't his thing, but he'd been active all day. The chance to lay around and relax for a moment and do idle things like lurk on Reddit was very welcome.
Catwoman had already appeared and slipped inside. Null had seen it happen. Now he was just overwatch, in case something went wrong.
Much to his relief, things remained quiet, other than a few stray notes of classical music permeating his ears. Null frowned, cleaning out his ears, "Stupid interference..." He muttered to himself before realizing that he wasn't picking up the faint strains of some niche London radio station. The music was being played live nearby, not far from him at all.
Following the sound, Null hopped off of his high perch and looked around, easily finding the source.
An older man with long white hair and a green concert dress attire furiously sawed away at the strings of a violin, eyes darting between the instrument and Null, as though he were expecting something, "Uh... thanks for the mood music?"
That seemed to be the breaking point for the disgruntled musician, "Nothing I play is affecting you! Why isn't it working!?"
Null looked at the man confusedly, "Uh... what's supposed to be happening, exactly?"
"You're supposed to be hypnotized!" The man snapped.
Ah, Null had expected it to be something detrimental to him, "By your music?" He asked amusedly, "Man, you really should have tried this last week before I got electric tinnitus."
It was a thing, fairly new. Ever since he'd absorbed the lightning from Wonder Girl's lasso during the Auctioneer incident, during all hours of the day, his head picked up electronic transmissions of all sorts - radio noise, cell phone signals, general static noise, etc.
He had yet to learn how to tune it down, and it was one reason why going to the concert earlier in the night had been such a welcome experience. He'd taken to carrying rubber ear plugs to pop in when the sound became too much for him. He needed to work on a more permanent fix, but for the time being, the plugs had worked; in more than one way here.
Null slowly lifted a hand toward the man, and gestured with his fingers, honing in on the metal strings of the violin. Using his powers of magnetism, he yanked the instrument out of the attacker's grasp, and into his own.
"I don't know who you are, but this is mine now," Null gleefully said, waving the violin in front of him tauntingly, "Wonder what a custom job like this'll go for? I bet crazies who collect hero and villain crap would sell their left nut for this thing."
Null turned to head off on his own when the man lunged for him. With his back turned, Null stepped out of the way of the clumsy swipe and backhanded him in the nose, breaking it and sending the musical criminal to the ground, grabbing at his face.
"Yeah, so... take that," Null said before departing with his newly obtained spoils now that his observation spot had been compromised.
Remaining on the ground for some time until the stars cleared from his eyes, eventually the musician looked up to find a woman with neck-length brown hair in a pink skirt and business blazer standing over him, very unimpressed by the scene she'd borne witness to, "So, that was your big plan to get Catwoman's cooperation, Fiddler? Hypnotize the boy she keeps around and... what exactly?" The woman said, "I'm pretty sure the Parademon could have done a better job, and he probably would have broken all of the boy's bones."
The Fiddler stammered aimlessly, attempting to defend himself, "I didn't... I didn't know what he could do, Scandal! I just figured he was a tagalong! A liability!"
The woman, Scandal, raised an eyebrow, "A tagalong? Yes. A liability? Absolutely not," While Null and Catwoman didn't share exactly the same skillset, that didn't make him inferior in the slightest. He had his own strengths that had nothing to do with hers, "-And you would have known that had you done the slightest bit of research, or listened to those who had dealt with him in the past."
Scandal wasn't done scolding him, but before the Fiddler could protest further, a muffled gunshot sounded out, followed by a wet thud. The elder man slumped lifelessly to the ground.
Instead of reacting in any kind of horror or surprise, Scandal heaved a tired sigh, "Seriously, Deadshot?"
A voice came over a small headset in her ear, "Oh, like you weren't about to slip a pair of blades between his ribs yourself," Deadshot said.
Scandal shrugged, knowing that Deadshot was watching her somewhere through the scope of his rifle, "I was at least going to tell him why before I did it."
Deadshot scoffed at her weird sense of propriety, "Hey, Scandal, seeing as how we're in need of a new warm body, why don't we use that kid?"
"We're in need of a new sixth because you shot Fiddler."
"Not seeing how that makes any difference," Deadshot drawled, getting an eye roll from Scandal, "Besides, the Fiddler sucked and everyone knew it. The game passed him by a long time ago."
"And this one's just a child," Scandal argued back, "He isn't even up on what 'the game',as you so put it, is yet."
If anything, that intrigued Deadshot more, and helped him make his point, "Exactly. He's good now. Imagine how good he'll be if you put his feet to the fire. If you'd have seen the shit I caught this kid pulling in Italy, just because he was pissed off, you'd get it."
To get Deadshot's attention was no small feat. And she remembered tangentially hearing of this Null individual even before she'd looked into him, "Was this why you had no problems with Fiddler's little plan to take some initiative and prove himself?"
"Well, that and I thought it would be funny to get some kind of entertainment value out of him before... you know."
Scandal looked down at the rapidly cooling corpse of the Fiddler, knowing exactly what Deadshot had been leading to. Fiddler had been a lightweight, but he'd contended with the Flash once upon a time, and not only had Null defeated him handily, he hadn't even seen him as a threat. Perhaps there was something to him after all.
XxX
(One Day Later - United States of America - New York City)
Max dragged his luggage behind him as he walked with Selina through the airport terminal, "So, the only reason we went to London was so you could rip something off?" He said, a cheesy grin on his face.
Selina clicked her teeth and scowled, "Oh, don't sound so pleased."
"I'm not," Max said, even though he did think it was kind of funny, "But don't you sound so disappointed."
Selina let out an annoyed sigh, "Why wouldn't I be? I wasted a week on that heist, and all for nothing. There was nothing in that place worth the night I spent breaking in, let alone all of the time I spent planning it."
Max's reply was smug, meant to needle his mentor, "And that's why I steal things I can easily flip."
"Don't mistake laziness for pragmatism, Maxie," Selina quickly shot back, choosing to focus more energy on her own situation, "I was given a bad tip, and I demand satisfaction."
Which was why they had flown back to the United States. Selina was going to grill the source of this particular bust of a heist and force some kind of compensation, but she wasn't going to interrupt the entire vacation because of it. They would both disembark in New York, and while Selina would go her own way, Max would go his. She would catch up with him once she was finished.
And since there was no rush, he was going to spend some time in the city. London had been far more tolerable than Gotham City was. And while that could have been a case of familiarity breeding contempt, once he'd started exploring Manhattan properly, he maintained his bright demeanor.
Working his way through pedestrian traffic, Max kept rubber-covered earbuds in to keep catching an electric migraine. This had the added effect of allowing him to ignore people cursing at him when they bumped into him.
'Sure, the people here walk way faster, and they're all still dicks like in Gotham, but,' He thought to himself before stopping his train of thought, and his walking in the middle of the sidewalk, "...Mmmm, this place is kind of a lot like Gotham, just bigger..."
As he continued on, a limousine pulled up on the sidewalk in front of him. As Max walked past it, a window in the back rolled down. Inside, a beautiful brown-haired woman peered out, her intense eyes locked directly on him. Max slowed, but didn't stop; not until she spoke to him.
"Would you like a ride?" She asked amicably, much to Max's confusion.
Max looked around, as if there were someone else she could have been speaking to. No one else cared about the interaction in the slightest, "...I was just kind of wandering around aimlessly," He eventually said.
The woman smirked at him, "Yes. Yes, you were, Max."
Max stared at the lady for a long, tense moment, neither of them blinking. Eventually, never taking his eyes off of hers, he opened the door to the vehicle and climbed inside. As the driver took off, the two sat in the back in silence, the woman seemingly satisfied over his decision, and Max contemplating the merits of flipping a limousine onto its roof several blocks from Times Square.
He decided to make his decision based on the next series of words to come out of her mouth.
"So," Max started, "I don't know you, but you just dropped my name like we were second cousins or something. Why do you have any idea of who I am?"
"Remember when you were arrested after being framed for the Wayne Enterprises explosions in Gotham City?"
"Only every time I feel my elbow click..."
"A part-time employer of an associate starting keeping tabs on you then," The woman continued, "A possible candidate for a special task force for prisoners. When your identity became common knowledge amongst heroes, she got that intel too... and my associate had input on her teams, so he did as well. "
Max pressed a palm to his forehead, "Jesus Christ..." He muttered, "I am going to slap Batman in his square fucking jaw the next time I see him. I don't care if he breaks my other arm."
Mildly amused by Max's response, the woman pressed further, "You didn't think you could hide who you really were from the entire world forever, did you?"
Max shrugged, not committing to one answer or another, "I knew all the heroes could find out if they really wanted to," But there weren't a lot of them who would try to kill him in his sleep if they knew where he lived, 'Guess I need to look into some other aliases or something.'
The woman tried to wave away any budding concerns, "Don't worry about rushing something like that. There isn't really a data-sharing thing between villains the way there is for heroes," If a bad guy wanted to find out who Null was, they would still have to do their own legwork, "Criminals don't traditionally play well with others."
"I've noticed," Max said dryly, sinking into the seat of the limo, "Well, you know who I am, and you came looking for me. But I don't know who you are, or what you want."
His posture was careless, but his mind was anything but. If whoever this was made any moves that he didn't like, he was prepared to activate his powers and give his impression of a Tesla coil on the spot. Also, he was still thinking about flipping the limo.
"You can call me Scandal," She moved around in her seat, noticing Max tense up, despite his attempts to hide it, "I don't have any plans to hurt you. Quite the opposite. I actually want to offer you an opportunity to join a team I'm putting together."
"An opportunity to join a team?" Max laughed, but from Scandal's non-changing expression, it wasn't a joke, "You just said villains don't play well with others."
Scandal nodded, "I did... I did. But how do you know I'm bad?"
Max gestured to everything around him, "You have a limo... you came to me all shady-like... you dress like a businessperson, which set you behind the eight-ball right from the start... and most good guys I've talked to are way more direct than you are. What makes you think I even want this opportunity?"
'He's shrewd, at least. I'll give him that,' Scandal thought to herself before replying, "I'll be honest, what I'm prepared to offer pays well, but I think you'll want a piece based just on the fact that I can promise that the work will be interesting."
Max grinned across the limo at her, "You're a bit confused about what makes me tick. I do like being Null, but I don't just do things for the thrills or the cash," His smile fell when he heard Scandal laughing to herself, "What's so funny about that?"
Scandal was quick to start tearing down Max's viewpoint, "What are you doing with all of the money that you should have right now?" Max didn't answer, instead just choosing to glare at her. That was the only answer she needed that it was nothing important, "No expensive tastes. So why bother being Null at all anymore? You could have quit. You could have quit several times, but you still do it."
"What's your point?" Max tried not to snap.
"You're still young," Scandal calmly continued, "You think you know who you are, but you're still learning more every day. More than anything else, I'm offering you the chance to discover what makes you tick."
Max gave her a dry look, "And make lots of money..."
Scandal smiled. The boy was sarcastic, but clearly was intrigued, "And make lots of money, yes. Interested?"
"I would need to know more," Max said cagily.
"Of course," Scandal said, seemingly having no problems, "Do you have the time?"
Why not? He would be done by the time Selina came prowling around for him again, and if he wasn't, she would understand. He'd just send her a message and get back in touch later, "Sure. Just let me get my stuff from my hotel."
XxX
A limo, and then a private plane. Max had often wondered what it was like to be a highly touted, sought after athlete or actor. But he couldn't sing or dance, and he'd been garbage at the few sports he'd tried when he was younger.
At the moment though, sat on a plane with Scandal, he couldn't help but feel like he was some kind of major social commodity being courted by an agent.
There had been a silence between the two of them that he'd taken as uncomfortable. Scandal hadn't seemed to care, nor did she seem put off when he tried to fill the silence, "So... about this team."
"I was wondering when you'd ask," Scandal smiled, "What do you want to know?"
Max doubted he would get everything he wanted to know, but asking outright couldn't hurt, "Why are we being put together, who's involved, and why do you want me?"
"I'm going to introduce you to the other team members when we arrive," Scandal explained, "As to why you in particular? We wanted a thief – a thinker. Someone whose first idea won't be to go charging straight into danger."
Max raised an eyebrow in intrigue, "Really?"
Scandal could see that she had been seen through, "-I want someone who's not an idiot, and someone who won't be pushed around by the others."
Max read between the lines and took it as something else, "You must really be scraping the bottom of the barrel for someone who's not a complete dick if you're bringing me in," There were plenty of people smarter than him suited for a bad guy team.
Scandal sighed deeply, a momentary break in her facade, "You have no idea how much we desperately needed a more stabilizing presence," The individuals she had been dealing with in the formation of the team left much to be desired on that front, "The fact that you're 17 years old aside, no, you're not an intellectual, but your past actions show you're no meathead. And you've worked alongside a variety of people. That should do fine. Like I said, you were also recommended."
Max could only imagine the clashing of egos that could take place on a team comprised of villains, "Are they that bad?"
"I'll leave that up to you to judge," Scandal said cryptically, "Ah, it looks like we're here."
Max suddenly looked out the window. He hadn't even felt them land, "Wow. Already? That was like... twenty minutes."
"This plane is faster than normal ones, and we didn't really go that far," Scandal said, leading the way off of the jet, "Welcome to Vermont, Null. You'll have to excuse the weather. It's perpetually windy here."
The two of them stepped out into a bleak, rural area, punctuated by a large, ramshackle mansion with tall, pointy spires and gray, stone walls. It looked more like a haunted house than a modern base of operations for a team.
"Wait, this is your headquarters?" Max asked, pausing as they walked to take in his surroundings, "I imagined something a little bit less... Scooby Doo."
Scandal took the smart remark in stride, "Well, if you feel like being a meddling kid, there are plenty of villains to unmask inside," She guided Max inside through the halls, "Stay close, please. We're late for a meeting, and those who wander in this house have a way of never returning."
"So... magic house. Ominous," Max muttered, tensing up when he was led into a library with a large round table, inhabited by four other individuals, most in their gear, "...I feel underdressed for this."
The first person to vocally acknowledge their arrival was a gorgeous Asian woman. She had long, dark hair, a green headband, green boots that went up past her knees, and a green kimono that hung off of one shoulder, cut very short at the thighs. On her bare arm, she wore a gold band around her bicep and at her wrist.
She smirked at the two of them and immediately threw barbs their way, "Oh, look. It's Miss Middle Management, and she's brought us a baby to take care of."
"Cheshire," Scandal said, both as a curt greeting, and letting Max know who she was.
Max just walked around the table to the nearest seat he could find, "I don't know you, but just from the first five seconds, I don't like you," He said, plopping down in one of the empty chairs, unfortunately positioned closest to the woman antagonizing him.
The most startling presence in the room was a slight man in a checker-print bodysuit with yellow and black striped sleeves and white gloves. He wore a silver mask that covered his entire head, with raggedy red mop of hair, not unlike that of a cheap doll, "Who is this child?"
"Rag Doll," Scandal said to Max as she passed, identifying the odd man.
"This is the kid I wanted," The third individual needed no introduction at all. Max's last meeting with him in Italy was fresh in his mind.
"Hi, Deadshot," Max droned, half expecting to have to stop a bullet within the next few seconds. One never came, "How's the trigger finger healing?"
Deadshot let out a bark of laughter at Max's audacity, "After the last few weeks? Fine. Fortunately, I have two hands, so I didn't miss any work, you little shit."
"Uh-huh," Max replied, uncertainly, looking to Scandal for an explanation, "Why am I not dead yet?"
"He's the one who recommended you," Scandal informed him, much to the teenager's surprise.
Max couldn't help but blurt out his surprise, "Get the fuck out of town. Really? Why?" Most people he defeated wanted revenge afterwards.
"A question I'm sure the rest of us would like the answer to," Cheshire sniped, quickly pointing with razor-sharp golden finger claws over to the last individual in the room – a quiet, muscular man with shoulder-length blond hair and stubble, "Better than Catman in any regard."
"Catman?" Max almost laughed at the irony of working with yet another cat-based member of the super community, if not for the dour, serious expression on the man's face, "Sorry. I don't think I've ever heard of you either," In fact, Max wasn't sure who any of these people were except for Deadshot.
"There's a reason for that, little boy," Cheshire said, though her mean-spirited venom was aimed at Catman more than anyone else, "Catman hasn't been relevant in years."
Max frowned. Relevancy. How overrated. Wasn't the point of crime to get away with it? Pretty hard to do if everyone wanted a piece of you, "He's still alive. Gotta count for something," He shrugged, "Name's Null. Nice to meet you... so far. Most of you, anyway."
Scandal stood in front of everyone, prepared to speak to the group as a whole, "Some of you have been here already. Others are newer," She specifically eyed Max and Catman, "I think it's time I let you know about the idea behind all of this."
Deadshot quickly piped up, "The money has been good enough for me, as far as I'm concerned."
"Be that as it may," Scandal said, keeping things on track, "As you're all aware, superhero alliances aren't a new thing."
Max chimed in, "You mean like how these days, every other one of them in the game is a card-carrying member of the Justice League or an offshoot?"
Scandal nodded, "Exactly."
Cheshire scoffed, "So we're getting in on the ground floor of a villain Justice League? An Injustice League?" She said derisively.
Scandal took it in stride, "No. Also, that name was taken before. No, in fact, doing something like that would be the worst possible thing for all of us."
Max found himself confused. How would insulating one's self in a group the opposite of the Justice League hurt, "I don't get it."
Scandal was more than happy to explain, "For the most part, heroes all want one thing – to protect people by stopping criminals and other threats to public safety or peace. It's rare for any two villains to have any mutual goal. For instance, even here, Null, you don't want the same thing that Deadshot does, or Catman, or Cheshire, or Rag Doll... or me."
Max was quickly beginning to understand, "There can't be a bad guy Justice League because we all want different things. Or, if we do want the same thing, it's usually not the kind of thing we can share," Which led to infighting, falling out, and worse. No large-scale alliance of high-profile villains ever lasted, not as far as he knew.
"Some of us are trying to change that," Scandal said, "What they don't understand, however, is what will happen if it somehow succeeds."
Max waited for someone else to ask the question instead of just him. When silence reigned, he looked around, "No one else? Just me?" No one answered, pulling a sigh from the youngest person present, "Fine. What'll happen?"
"War," Scandal said, "The next World War will not be between nations. It will be between the superheroes who have banded together to protect the world, and the supervillains that will join forces in order to clear the way for their collective aims."
All of this sounded surreal to Max, "Wait, what happened to 'bad guys don't play well with others'."
Scandal scowled deeply, her professionalism breaking for a moment, "Those in charge have their means of coercing those who would rather not take part," There was clearly a story there that Max figured he was better off not commenting on.
Catman had no problem mentioning how he had been wronged. He clenched a fist tight enough to draw blood from his palm, "The Society… killed my pride when I turned them down."
Scandal gestured to her surrounding company, "Something like this has happened to most of the people you see here," Herself obviously included.
Everyone seemed to be familiar with this cabal of villains amassing, except for Max, "Okay, you're all smartened up, but why am I just now hearing about this?"
Cheshire was clearly an unpleasant woman, taking any opportunity to take a dig at the newbie, "Why would anyone tell you? No one would recruit you. You're a widdle baby thief. What good would you be in a battle against the Justice League?"
Max grit his teeth angrily. She wasn't entirely wrong, she was just a bitch about it, "Then why the fuck am I here? Just off of a recommendation?"
Cheshire pointed her golden-clawed finger at Max, more specifically, where he was sitting, "To warm that seat after the last guy who was supposed to be there croaked. I don't expect you'll last any longer than he did."
Petty Max magnetically yanked the claws off of Cheshire's hand and threw them up to stick into the ceiling, "Whoops. How did that happen?" He didn't even bother looking at the glare he knew she was giving him.
Scandal made no attempt to hide the smirk from Max's actions, "You're here because after Deadshot suggested you, I looked into you and your known exploits myself," She made it a point to look at everyone else pointedly, especially Cheshire, "He'll work."
"And if he doesn't, he probably won't live long enough for it to matter," Deadshot added, "No offense, kid."
"None taken," Max said with a sigh. It wouldn't be the first time he'd worked for someone who might kill him if he screwed up, "Can I think about getting involved with all of this?"
"I'm afraid it's too late for that, Null."
A voice sounded out over a speaker, as a bookcase opened up to reveal a massive screen. On it was a vague silhouette of a man's head. Suddenly, it made sense to Max why it seemed like Scandal was more of an agent or middle-management.
It was because this was the actual boss.
"In fact..." The mysterious figure continued, "...It was too late the moment you were okay'ed to become a member of this team. I've already taken steps to make sure you will cooperate."
Mysterious or not, Max didn't like the way things were turning, "You know, in school they teach us to walk away as a form of conflict resolution. It's stupid and usually doesn't work, but I'm pretty sure it will here," He said, beginning to stand.
"Are you certain you wish to leave, Null?" Scandal asked, "Think of what you'll be giving up," She spoke in a way that tried to warn him of something she couldn't quite allude to.
"I didn't mean that I would threaten you," Suddenly, the screen shifted and showed images of Catwoman, "You care for your mentor, don't you? Perhaps she's one of the only people you truly care for," Max's eyes were glued to the screen as it showed images of them in England, and then of them in the airport back in the U.S., right before they separated, "The source of the failed heist in London; the one that she was so adamant on seeing for recompense..."
Electricity involuntarily rippled off of Max's body, causing Cheshire to scoot away to a safer distance, "...What did you do?"
The figure spoke rhetorically, "I don't know. Bring down her plane while it's still in the air," The image on the screen shifted to the building that Null recognized as Selina's home, "Level the entire block her penthouse is in. Stumble upon one of her future heists and report it to the... ahem, proper authorities," He offered as possible things that could befall Selina. And Max wouldn't be able to prevent everything from occurring, even if Selina let him watch over her 24/7. Chances were, he would be caught in the crossfire as well, "It's not what did I do. It's what can I do? By the way, I'm not in the mansion. This is your base of operations, not mine. So bringing it down around everyone's head in a petulant rage won't do anything for anyone."
"I'm pretty sure it'll make him feel better for about ten seconds," Deadshot cracked. Max was inclined to agree, but cooler heads prevailed. At the moment, there was nothing he could do.
"Rest assured, I'm not singling you out, Null," The man continued, now speaking to everyone. Max looked around, and no one else seemed to be outraged or defiant. Whatever this person had on them had to mean as much or more than Selina did to him. Even Cheshire had her eyes down,"Each of you has something you're not willing to lose. Something I'm willing and able to take from you. Each of those commodities belongs to me. But I will reward each of you handsomely for your work."
"You are the chosen. And each of you, useless. You have with all of your talents, all of your gifts, accomplished nothing," The man showed images of all of them, beaten in some manner by heroes. Their mug shots, prison records, even images of them in handcuffs, all meant to drive his point home, "Petty, money-grubbing theft under the cover of darkness. Tawdry murders and extortions, with the same codicil to every endeavor – humiliation, incarceration, defeat."
Max smartly bit his tongue, despite seeing himself chained in the back of a Gotham City squad car, 'Well, I've technically never been arrested, but don't let facts get in the way of a good speech.'
The leader continued further, "And once things truly begin, this society of so-called supervillains will also be hunting you like the craven prey you are for refusing to play ball. But it needn't be this way. Join with me. Show me the greatness you are all meant to achieve. Help me eradicate this Society."
"You'll be feared, respected, adored. You'll forget what it is to want something you can't have. Because you'll be one of us. One of the six. And you will spit on the graves of Luthor and the others who wish to control you from golden thrones."
Null slowly sank back down into his chair, body language expressing defeat, "...You could have led with that instead of threatening me."
"Null, you and I both know you wouldn't have taken it," Scandal said. Null clicked his teeth at the woman's accurate assessment of his personality, "None of the others would have either," She said. Did that include herself?
"I had to be proactive about ensuring all of your cooperation," The man said, "Every great leader has the choice to rule with the carrot or the stick. To be safe, I've chosen both."
Scandal spoke up again, "Rest assured, there's more, and it's a great deal more pleasant , I'm sure you'll agree," Maps of the six inhabited continents of Earth came up, each with the face of one of the team superimposed over it. Deadshot was given North America, Scandal got South America, Cheshire received Asia, Rag Doll would get Europe, Catman would have Africa, and for Max, Australia, "As you can see, the reward for those of us who survive will be nearly unimaginable."
Max was skeptical of everything, "You're right. I really can't imagine it," He said, his voice honest, though his intent thoroughly sarcastic, "And what do we call you, oh illustrious leader?" He asked of the man who was now back on the screen.
"You may call me Mockingbird. Welcome to the Secret Six."
XxX
(Later That Night)
Max never got around to calling Selina, or sending her a message. He'd been informed with all the subtlety of a brick to the face that it was in both of their best interests if his current employment situation was kept under wraps.
It wasn't like Max was exactly eager to try and come up with an excuse as to why he was cutting out from their vacation with no notice whatsoever. Maybe he could just send her something snotty such as, 'because I felt like it,' dodge her calls, and try to smooth things over once he got back.
...If he ever got back, that was. From the sound of things, there was a great chance he'd be dealing with some heavy hitters.
The House of Secrets that served as their base of operations was massive, quiet, and empty. That meant no distractions to keep Max from dwelling on the issues rattling around in his head. At least the kitchen was well-stocked, thus he decided to drown his sorrows with a handmade turkey club sandwich well after midnight.
As he sat and ate, the light to the kitchen flipped on, revealing Deadshot pointing a gun at him near the switch, "Walking around in the dark will get you shot, kid," He warned.
Instead of panicking in any way, Max slowly chewed his food, taking note of Deadshot's appearance, sans mask. A man with short black hair, and a mustache/goatee combo, "Not walking," He eventually said between bites, "If you're gonna shoot me, let me finish this first."
Deadshot kept the gun trained on Max for a few more seconds, "Is that swiss?" He asked. When Max nodded, he lowered the weapon, "Make me one, would you? I don't know where anything is in here."
Max rolled his eyes and got up to get everything he needed to make a duplicate of his sandwich for Deadshot, and another for himself, "You're a dick," Max remarked as he dug through the refrigerator.
Deadshot took a seat across from Max's place at the counter, "Aww, don't say that. And after I went out of my way to get you this gig."
Max paused in his sandwich preparation and stared at the man for several seconds before it dawned on him. His eyes widened in realization, "Oh, goddamn it, this is how you're getting me back for the thing in Italy."
Deadshot just started laughing, signifying that his younger cohort was on the money. It was a level of petty that Max aspired to be one day, "So, how you holdin' up, kid?"
Max wasn't excited about venting to Deadshot, but his options were limited to five, and he would be damned if he started complaining around Cheshire, "Honestly? I really want to hurt something, but I don't know what I would be going after," He shrugged as he slid a plate Deadshot's way, "Instead of enjoying the rest of my summer vacation, I'm stuck in this creepy mansion, until some nameless, faceless dude from behind a screen gives me orders to go off and fight a gathering army of supervillains."
Deadshot shrugged as he bit into the sandwich, "Consider it an internship or something. Anyway, it's better to get 'em now than wait for 'em to finish preparing."
Max couldn't argue with that. There was nothing wrong with a preemptive strike, "How long has The Society been a thing anyway?" Max asked, remembering fighting a gathering of otherwise unaffiliated supervillains a while ago in Metropolis. Hell, even during the incident that earned his amnesty, Deathstroke and Metallo had been somewhat coordinated in different locations. That had been almost a year ago.
"Dunno," Deadshot admitted, "I got roped into this months ago."
Max grimaced. He might have dipped his toes into this multiple times without knowing for quite some time now, "How many bad guys does The Society have?"
"Last time I checked with Scandal? She said nearly 200."
Max's eye twitched, a stray spark flickering off of his eyelashes, "Fuck. Off," He gritted out, annoyed. Those were not his kind of odds, "What the hell are the six of us going to do against 200?"
A grand question, and not one that Deadshot had the answer to, "Well, we're not marching out in the open and fighting them all at once," Even before Max had joined up, they'd been working to undermine The Society. He assumed they would continue operations per usual with their new replacement, "And remember what Scandal said before?"
"-Bad guys don't work well together," Max paraphrased automatically.
Deadshot nodded, "Someone's put this whole thing together. Maybe a few someones, sure, but when we find 'em, and put 'em in the ground, that'll probably leave a big enough vacuum that the rest of the rank and file may fall apart trying to fill."
Max could imagine the scramble that would take place after that, "Probably not a whole lot of people in the world who can get something that big together in the first place..." Ambition didn't necessarily equal capability.
"Exactly," Deadshot said, pointing with his half-eaten sandwich, "...There any pickles in that fridge?"
Max's response was cut off by a new arrival, "How about eggs?" Catman asked, walking in shirtless. The man was ripped, with a vertical three-clawed slash mark of a scar in the middle of his chest, "Was thinking of making an omelet myself."
"Blake," Deadshot greeted coolly.
Catman spared him a glance and an upward nod, "Lawton."
Max looked between the two men who clearly didn't quite trust one another, "...Max," He muttered under his breath, temporarily breaking the tension.
"So, what are you doing up?" Deadshot asked, making conversation as Catman started to cook his own meal, "The kid, I understand. This is a pretty big rodeo for him, probably hard to sleep. But you?"
"I was just outside, walking the grounds," Catman said, grabbing cheese and peppers for his intended omelet, "I'm sort of a night kind of guy."
"Aren't we all?" Deadshot asked, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and grabbing one with his mouth, "I'd get it if you were starting to feel any jitters though. It's been a while since you've been involved in any real shit."
Max raised an eyebrow, "And you're the authority on what constitutes 'real shit'?"
Deadshot just hummed noncommittally as he lit his cigarette, "Just calling 'em like I see 'em."
"Speaking of seeing," Max chimed in again, "Have either of you actually met this 'Mockingbird'?" A lot of his thoughts had been focused on the individual that had strong-armed him into staying.
"I'm afraid not," Catman answered curtly.
Deadshot took a drag from his cigarette before saying anything else, "No. The woman recruited me. The middle-management one with the nice caboose. Scandal. Said it was a way to tell The Society to go to hell."
It seemed that Max hadn't been the only one with his thoughts stuck on the interaction they'd had earlier in the day with their benefactor. Catman had as well, "Did you notice that Mockingbird never responded to any questions we asked? Even what he said to Null here seemed... canned."
Max frowned. Now that he mentioned it... how did Mockingbird call in? He couldn't sense any wireless connection to the screen he was on. Nor did he recall Scandal ever really addressing him herself.
"So what?" Deadshot replied, having not bothered to consider things so deeply.
Catman hummed to himself as he cut ingredients, "So, nothing. But it could have been pre-recorded, which makes me-... never mind."
"What?" Deadshot said, his mind already moving to where Catman's had been going before he stopped himself, "You're thinking one of us?"
Catman scowled, "I'm thinking, we've put our lives in anonymous hands, Deadshot. I'm thinking about our future."
Deadshot forcefully put out the cigarette in the middle of his now empty plate, "That's crap, Blake. 100% crap. You think one of us could put this together, or even gives enough of a shit to?"
Catman shrugged, "All I'm saying is that I like to face my enemy head on, like a man."
Deadshot sighed in disgust, "Guys like you, Jesus... you're dilettantes," He complained, "Hunt or assassination, what the hell difference does it make if the target sees it coming? If anything, it's kinder in the back of the head. Blam!" He quickly pulled out his handgun and placed it against his own head, "Take out the brain before the body knows it's done."
Max winced at the frank statement, "...Okay, just for fun, you always walk in front of me on missions. That cool?"
Catman couldn't help but shake his head at the absurdity of the predicament, "Some team bonding. Just look at us. A hitman with a death wish, a teenager who's probably just getting a handle on how his privates are supposed to work, and me."
Speaking of one of them, Deadshot had questions, "About you. Tell me something, Blake. Catman was a joke. And now, you're almost something," He gestured to Max, "Mockingbird has leverage on the rest of us. A reason we're here. But you volunteered for this group. What happened to you?"
A dark twinge drifted through Catman's eyes for a split-second, "We're not going to talk about that," He said in warning, "But Lex Luthor ordered Deathstroke to slaughter my lions. That means his friends are now my enemies."
Upon mention of Deathstroke and Lex Luthor, Max skulked out of the conversation, focusing more on his food at that point, 'Six degrees of separation, I swear to God. Does everybody know everybody in this community?' He thought to himself, busying himself with taking a large bite of his sandwich and chewing, 'Of course Deathstroke runs around with The Society.'
At that moment, Scandal walked into the kitchen, dressed in a robe, signifying that she too had been winding down for the night, "You may get the chance at revenge sooner than expected, Blake. Mockingbird's called. We have a mission."
XxX
As he geared up in his room, Max couldn't help but dwell on what he'd just heard before he'd been given his marching orders. Deathstroke was with The Society - and he was meant to work against them.
That put the thought into his head about Rose. What about her? What was she doing? She'd left to go with Deathstroke - family ties. Was she involved? Would he have to deal with her somewhere down the line?
While it was something he would probably always have at the back of his mind for the duration of his employment, it wouldn't do anything to help him here. Null set it aside as he climbed aboard the jet that had first brought him to the Secret Six.
With the exception of Scandal, once again dressed in business-like attire, all of the others were onboard in their gear, including Catman, whom he had never seen suited up. He wore a yellow suit with three red slashes down the chest, a utility belt, an orange cowl with cat ears and cape, and orange gloves and boots.
As he was the last to arrive, Scandal began briefing the team once Null took his seat, "Each of you have been provided jackets, as there's a thunderstorm in Gotham at the moment."
Null, Catman, and Deadshot all reacted to mention of Gotham City, all for different reason, "Whoa-whoa-whoa, what? Gotham?" Null said, "You're sending us there?"
Deadshot openly groused at their upcoming destination, "I joined for a piece of the Society, not the Bat."
"We're not after the Bat, Deadshot," Scandal insisted, bringing up a display of a ship on a screen along the wall, "This is 'The Petrovian'. A Russian cargo freighter recently purchased by a company that's a front for an arms dealer. Oswald Cobblepot may be involved, but we don't have that data as a certainty," She showed them plans of the ship's layout and more, "Mockingbird's intel is otherwise extremely impressive, and he believes the ship's hold is loaded with weapons. Thanagarian weapons that will almost certainly be used on us, eventually, as the only people stupid enough to defy The Society."
"Yay," Null deadpanned, "Getting shot at by alien guns for the second time in the last few weeks. So fun," Not for the first time since going to space was he reminded that he really should have stolen something from The Auctioneer when he had the chance.
Scandal smirked, "Now, if the aforementioned interstellar ordinance were to somehow be appropriated for our use..." She trailed off, letting the others come to their own conclusion.
Getting new, shiny, powerful alien weapons sounded well in practice, "That kinda cargo's gotta be guarded, lady," Deadshot said, his mask pulled up over his mouth to smoke."
"The Society is large, Deadshot, and arrogant. They won't expect a frontal assault," Scandal said, continuing in her briefing, "Now, there are two gangplanks. Those are the easiest point of entry. Catman, Deadshot, Rag Doll, and Cheshire will board by that measure. Null, you will head around the other side to cover our approach."
Null gave a thumbs up in understanding, "So, I'm scout. Got it."
Scandal turned to the entire team and placed a hand on her chest, "I will remain in an advisory position on this mission."
Cheshire let out a snide laugh, "Of course you are," Given that Scandal had boarded in smart clothing while the rest of them were dressed to work, that much had been clear.
XxX
(Meanwhile – Gotham City – The Hill)
"Those are the easiest point of entry. Catman, Deadshot, Rag Doll, and Cheshire will board by that measure. Null, you will head around the other side to cover our approach."
A man sitting behind a desk in a communications hub grinned as he listened in on the clandestine conversation of the Secret Six, "Not such a secret," He said to himself, "Smart girl though. Not that it will help you."
The monitors in the room showed images of the interior of the jet, showing all six of the members in the midst of their briefing. Deathstroke stood aside, watching all of the information that had been gathered, "You got a bug on their plane?" He said, sounding impressed, "For a freakish, disgusting shut-in, you can be quite useful, Calculator."
Calculator preened, fiddling with a Rubik's cube as they continued eavesdropping, "Thank you, Deathstroke. But no. Much as I'd love to take credit, someone else planted the bug. A disgruntled relative, perhaps?"
"It matters not," Lex Luthor said, walking into the room, dressed in surprisingly casual attire, "Gentlemen, it's time for a grand gesture. Something that will show the unity of our Society. I have an idea."
XxX
(With Null – Some Time Later – Gotham City – Gotham Docks)
Rain beat down on Null's covered head as he skulked atop the rooftop of the warehouses surrounding the target ship. He'd split up from the rest of the team and entered first to do his job, which was to take note of any possible trouble they may run into.
There were a few sentries – local goons, it seemed – that Null was able to easily get rid of before they could see him, but never came across anything that had the potential to stop them. Once the rest of the team was onboard, Null had a bird's eye view as they easily dispatched the overmatched guards.
"The Society didn't seem to want to spring for quality," Deadshot said as they reached the top door to the hold and prepared to open it, "This it?"
They all peered down into the opening, only to find nothing like a shipment of heavy-duty alien weaponry. In fact, there wasn't much at all. Without anyone stating the obvious, they all started leaving as quickly as they could.
"Scandal, it looks like a bust," Null declared over the open line to the entire team, "Bad intel or a trap. Either way..."
"Agreed. Proceed with all due haste back to my position."
Null caught up with them as they were leaving the docks and heading into the storehouse area where they had originally started from. Scandal joined them along the way as they approached a waiting jeep.
Deadshot noticed that Cheshire had never stopped smiling from the moment the mission had gone sideways, "What are you grinning about?"
Cheshire waved off his concerns, but let him in on her thoughts nevertheless, "I'm just remembering what happened to The Fiddler when he erred on his mission."
Deadshot definitely did, seeing as he was the one who put a bullet through his head for the trouble, "Not this time, sweetie. If anyone screwed up, it's Mocking-."
A bolt of lightning struck the jeep they'd set aside for their departure, turning it into a useless hunk of fried metal. Everyone turned to look at Null who shook his head, "Guys, that wasn't me."
"Hey."
A man flying on a storm cloud drifted down into view. He had hair slicked straight up, wearing a green outfit and domino mask. A cocky smirk adorned his face, and with good reason.
"Name's Weather Wizard. And I'm glad you could make it," He said, lowering himself to stand with a veritable horde of costumed, card-carrying villains, "…Have you met my friends?"
Null had met maybe one or two of them, but recognized many from what he'd seen and heard, 'Knockout, Killer Frost, Captain Nazi, Hellhound… is that Crazy Quilt? I thought that was a dude,' Either way, there were more of them than he had the time to identify.
16 on 6. Not the kind of odds that any of the Secret Six were keen on facing.
"Oh my God," Scandal whispered under her breath, feeling the sealing of their collective fates, "We need to run. We need to go now!"
With the tension feeling overbearing, Null unleashed a magnetic shockwave to give everyone a headstart in running away. It was strong enough to knock most of the encroaching villains back. The ones he couldn't get, he targeted with the remains of the nearby jeep, lifting it with his powers and throwing it.
-Only to find it caught in midair by a pulsing purple field of energy. A small tail of energy led to the hand of a man in purple and yellow armor with a cape and an open helmet.
"I have to admit it kid, I didn't see that one coming," Weather Wizard boasted, pointing to the man that had stopped Null's attack, "But this? This is Doctor Polaris – the world's greatest master of magnetism."
Following the lead of the rest of his teammates, Null took off running, "Worst job ever!" Null yelled to himself, caught in a situation he didn't think he could get himself out of.
Weather Wizard just chuckled as he and the others went after Null and the rest of the Secret Six, "Oh, little man, trust me. Your bad night is just beginning."