Task Force X

Washington, D.C., fifty meters underground.

A.R.G.U.S. Central Command Center.

A massive curved wall of monitors filled the room.

They showed footage of the battle at an abandoned dock in East Gotham.

Amanda Waller sat before them, cold blue light falling across her expressionless face.

She rested her clasped hands over her stomach and stared at the largest screen in the center.

Onscreen, a dark red glow lit Chu Men's eyes.

The red light drove back Superman's attack and pierced his defenses.

"Pause," Waller said.

The image froze.

"Replay it. One-tenth speed."

The footage began to crawl backward.

Superman's back blackened; his bones cracked.

Chu Men dropped from the sky and planted a foot on Superman's chest.

The dull snap of breaking bone echoed through the empty command center, amplified by the audio system.

Waller watched those three seconds again and again.

Her expression never changed.

She pressed the red button in front of her.

"Notify everyone. Conference room."

Ten minutes later, in classified conference room thirteen.

People packed the seats around the long oval table: military brass with stars on their shoulders, a sharply dressed White House envoy, intelligence chiefs. The ashtrays overflowed with cigarette butts.

The air was stale and oppressive.

"The Trident Nuclear Submarine is fifty nautical miles off the East Coast." General Smith slammed a palm on the table. "Two tactical nukes, and we wipe the East District off the map. We can't let an uncontrolled metahuman hold a city."

"General, look at the map." The White House envoy pushed up his gold-rimmed glasses. "Gotham City has more than ten million residents. Fallout from a nuclear blast would ride the westerlies straight to Metropolis and Washington. Do you want the president wearing a gas mask to work on Capitol Hill?"

"We're at war!" General Smith yanked his tie loose, his neck flushed red. "That monster crippled Superman with one hand! Can you guarantee he won't fly onto the White House roof tomorrow and give us the finger?"

"We could try making contact." The Secretary of State's representative tapped the table, trying to steer the discussion back to his domain. "He's taken control of every gang in Gotham and seized their profits. That tells us he cares about territory and material gain. We could recognize his de facto control of Gotham and establish a demilitarized buffer zone around it. As long as he stays inside, we don't interfere."

"Negotiate with a thug who killed someone on camera in front of the whole world?" The National Security Agency director sneered. "What would that do to America's reputation? Lex Luthor is already mocking our incompetence on television."

"What about Batman? Superman?" General Smith braced both hands on the table. "Where are all those costumed freaks who usually fly around everywhere?"

"Batman disappeared after rescuing Superman." The intelligence chief opened the folder in his hands.

The conference room erupted into argument. Slamming hands and curses filled the air.

Waller sat at the far end of the table, watching the people who held the nation's highest offices with cold eyes.

"Are you finished?" Waller leaned back and swept her gaze around the room.

No one answered.

"A nuclear bomb won't kill him." Waller brought up a video, projecting it above the table. "The core of Superman's Heat Vision is hotter than the surface of the sun. A direct clash with that kind of energy didn't even singe his skin. You expect nuclear radiation to make his hair fall out?"

General Smith opened his mouth but found no answer.

"Diplomatic contact?" Waller looked at the Secretary of State's representative. "Diplomacy is for livestock. It only works when you have a whip. Right now, all you have is a straw. He's a tyrant with no limits. Any agreement you put on the negotiating table wouldn't be worth using to polish his shoes."

She turned to General Smith.

"Where were you when Superman was lying in the mud with a boot on his chest?"

The conference room fell dead silent.

"Conventional weapons don't work. We can't count on superheroes. Negotiation would only humiliate us." The White House envoy looked at Waller. "Director Waller, A.R.G.U.S. takes fifteen percent of the Defense Department's budget every year. Are you telling me all we can do is wait to die?"

"No." Waller sat up straight. "We use monsters to fight monsters."

She pressed a button on her remote.

The lights dimmed, and a hologram spread above the table.

A top-secret file labeled "Task Force X—Alpha" appeared before them.

Four mugshots appeared on the screen.

"This is my plan," Waller said evenly.

General Smith narrowed his eyes at the photos, then frowned.

"Prisoners? You plan to send a few death-row inmates against a monster who can fly?"

"They're not ordinary death-row inmates. They're specialized assets." Waller enlarged the first photo.

It showed a bald white man with cold eyes.

"Floyd Lawton. Codename: Deadshot. Expert with every class of firearm, visual tracking far beyond human limits, and flawless aim. Pay him enough, and he'd take a shot at God."

The screen changed.

The second photo showed a heavy-jowled man holding a boomerang.

"Digger Harkness. Codename: Captain Boomerang. Robbed six United Banks branches and killed three metahumans. His survival instincts and reactions under pressure are exceptional."

The third photo did not show a human. It showed a huge humanoid creature with a shark's head and gray-blue skin.

"Nanaue. King Shark. Demigod blood. His skin can withstand a direct hit from an anti-tank missile, and his jaws can bite through specialty steel. His only drawbacks are below-average intelligence and a need for regular meals of fresh meat."

The last photo appeared.

A woman with pigtails and heavy makeup grinned wildly at the camera.

"Harleen Quinzel. Former psychiatrist at Arkham Asylum." Waller paused. "Now a complete psychiatric case."

"This is insane." The White House envoy shook his head. "Waller, you've lost your mind. You want us to entrust national security to three criminals and a lunatic?"

"Do you have another plan?"

Waller's gaze sharpened.

"What if she turns on us? She's Joker's ex-girlfriend." The envoy pointed at Harley Quinn.

"Then I press a button and eliminate a problem," Waller replied without hesitation.

Silence settled over the conference room again.

The officials exchanged looks.

None of them thought the plan would work, but none could offer a better one.

"And if Task Force X is wiped out?" General Smith asked grimly.

Waller touched the edge of a drawer. Locked inside was a file marked with a red skull.

"Then I'll activate Plan B," Waller said, offering no explanation. "For now, this is the only card we can play."

The envoy sighed and signed the authorization before him.

"The president will approve this plan. Waller, you're responsible for what happens."

"I don't care." Waller shut off the hologram. "Meeting adjourned."

The officials filed out of the conference room.

Waller returned to her office alone.

She closed the blinds, shutting out the view from outside.

At her desk, she picked up the red encrypted phone and dialed a number.

It rang twice before someone answered.

"Belle Reve Penitentiary. Warden speaking."

"This is Amanda Waller. Activate the Task Force X—Alpha roster." Waller looked at the four files on her computer screen.

"Ma'am, they're not in great shape right now," the warden said. "Lawton's on a hunger strike. Harkness broke a guard's arm yesterday. King Shark keeps ramming the wall of his tank. And Harleen... she won't stop singing. She's driving everyone in Block B insane."

"That's your problem, not mine," Waller said coldly.

She opened the surveillance feed on her screen and watched the monsters locked in their cages.

"Inject them with nanobombs and gear them up," Waller ordered. "I want all four aboard a transport plane to Gotham within seventy-two hours."

"What if they resist?"

"Blow the ringleader's head off. The other three will fall in line." Waller hung up.

She turned toward the screen on the other side of her office.

It still showed a frozen image of Chu Men giving the camera the finger.

Waller picked up a pen and drew an X on the classified file in her hand.

"Gotham's new king." The corner of Waller's mouth twitched. "Let's see how many people you can kill."