“So who did you say this was?” Amanda Waller asked, looking at Rex Tyler’s bloodied body.
“Rex Tyler,” Bruce said, still wearing his mask, considering Floyd Lawton was with him.
“The Hourman?” Amanda inquired.
Bruce nodded.
“I always wondered how he was doing these days,” Amanda mused, “We monitored his vigilantism in our early days. Back when I was an intern. Oh, how times have changed.”
“Keep staring as long as you want, Waller,” Floyd said.
“Quiet, Lawton,” Amanda said curtly. Floyd smiled, and pursed his lips.
“He died a hero,” Bruce said finally, “A true hero.”
“How exactly did his death come about?” Amanda asked.
“We had caught the plane with the Venom, but had no way to bring it down without killing the people on it,” Bruce explained, “So Rex lied, and said he still had some Miraclo in him. He jumped to the other plane, and threw out the crates of Venom.”
“All because of your moral code,” Amanda sighed, “Because of your refusal to do what is necessary, a hero died while two criminals lived. You might need to rethink your rule book.”
“Don’t tell me what to do Amanda,” Bruce growled.
“I must request that you address me as Commander Waller,” Amanda said, “I’ve said it before. Don’t forget it a second time.”
“Right. Commander Waller. I do this Batman thing on my own,” Bruce said, “Got it?”
“Clear as day,” Amanda Waller smiled. Thunder rumbled. It was not a clear day.
“Well that was a knee-slapped,” Floyd said, devoid of emotion, “How about you two keep bickering, and I just slip out to get a drink?”
“Stay put Lawton,” Amanda said without breaking eye contact with Bruce.
“Okee dokee,” Floyd sighed.
“I’ll be leaving now,” Bruce said.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Amanda asked, waving a small gray flash drive in the air.
“You got the file?” Bruce asked, impressed.
“I told you, we have every file since the internet began,” Amanda said, “That includes the file missing from Gotham’s database.”
Bruce took the file from Amanda, and forced him to thank her. She said nothing back. She just smiled, smugly. Bruce walked out of the room, and down a long, gray hall. The hall smelled of death. Then, at the end of the hall, Bruce whipped around in time to catch a man attempting to whack him in the head with a nightstick. He grabbed the man’s hand, and flipped him over.
“Please,” Bruce sighed, “If you’re going to knock me out, do it calmly. I get that Commander Waller is really big on secrecy. Just dose me with tranquilizer or something.”
“Sounds good,” the guard nodded, worried. He took a sleek silver pistol off of his belt, and fired at Bruce’s neck. Bruce took the hit, and dropped. But he wasn’t truly unconscious. He was faking. It took a few minutes for tranquilizer to knock him out. He had trained to resist the serum. The guard dragged him away anyways.
Meanwhile, back in the room with Rex Tyler’s body, Floyd was shifting uneasily.
“So, back to the slammer?” Floyd asked.
“Not yet,” Amanda said. Her lips curled into a sinister smile.
“Oh shit,” Floyd said, “What is it?”
“Come with me,” Amanda said, “I have some people I want you to meet.”
“Is this another sit down with the families of my targets?” Floyd asked, “Because you know I hate those!”
“No. No, no, no. I want you to meet your… neighbors…”
When Bruce came to, he was alone in his king-sized bed. He was still in the suit he had worn to Greenland. Alfred was standing next to it. There were dark circles under his eyes, and creases in his forehead.
“Hey Al-” Bruce started.
“Where were you Master Bruce?” Alfred asked, upset.
“Look, it was an unexpected mission,” Bruce said, “Very unexpected. As in, I was knocked unconscious, and dragged to a secret military base. Then, I was forced to go on a mission to Greenland in order to rescue a sniper and shut down a drug operation. I met the Hourman, and we fought a giant. Then, Hourman died. I know that it sounds fake, but it really happened!”
Alfred sighed.
“I promise,” Bruce added.
“At least you’re home now,” Alfred smiled, patting Bruce’s forehead, “You truly had me worried.”
“Where does the rest of the world think I’ve been?” Bruce asked.
“Off in Spain. Probably on some nudist beach,” Alfred shrugged.
“I wish,” Bruce laughed, “Did anything happen while I was gone?”
“Well, considering you’ve only been gone for two days, not much. A few minor robberies, but it’s nice to see the GCPD actually do some work instead of relying on you. They were surprised when the Dark Knight didn’t show up to save the day.”
“I guess there wasn’t much day-saving to be done,” Bruce said, getting out of bed.
“Thank goodness,” Alfred nodded.
“Luckily, something good will come out of this,” Bruce smiled.
“And what’s that, Master Bruce?”
Bruce pulled the small flash drive out from his pocket, and waved it around.
“Congratulations, you have a flash drive,” Alfred said, dryly.
“It’s what’s on the drive,” Bruce pointed out.
“It often is.”
“I’m glad to see that you’re so enthralled,” Bruce said, “Anyways, this flash drive contains the missing file from the GCPD database.”
“File 1939?” Alfred asked.
“That’s the one.”
“Well let’s go see what’s on it,” Alfred smiled, excited.
“Let me change into something more comfortable.”
Bruce stepped off of the elevator that stretched from the dining room to the Batcave. It was one of several entrances to the cave throughout Wayne Manor. This was the one that Bruce primarily used when there were no guests around. That way, if anyone came to the door, he could be up in a few moments.
Bruce had changed into a tight, white t-shirt and black sweatpants.
“Got anything?” Bruce asked, walking over to Alfred, who was in front of the Batcomputer, and clamping a hand on his shoulder.
“I thought I’d wait for you,” Alfred said. He placed the flash drive on a small, pale circle. The circle flashed green, and Alfred picked the flash drive. It was free of viruses. He then plugged the flash drive into a small slot along the side of the massive computer. A blue box appeared on the screen. There was only one file in the box. Alfred clicked it. The file opened. There was no text. Then, the letter ‘C’ flashed at the middle of the top of the page. Next was a ‘A’ a few lines beneath it, and a little bit to the left. More letters continued flashing and disappearing.
“Really? Waller couldn’t have decrypted this for me?” Bruce sighed.
“Whoever deleted this file really didn’t want anyone to see it,” Alfred said, “We’ll figure it out soon, sir.”
“I know,” Bruce nodded.
Suddenly, the doorbell rang. Bruce and Alfred exchanged looks.
“You keep working at this,” Bruce instructed. He headed for the elevator.
“I should have this cracked within the next hour,” Alfred said.
“Perfect,” Bruce smiled, quickly ascending. He reached the dining room, and stepped out of the elevator. The elevator sunk back into the floor, and the table, which had separated, moved back together. Bruce walked to the front door, and opened it.
“There he is! The man! The myth! The legend! Bruce Wayne!”
Oswald Cobblepot.
“Oz! How are you holding up?” Bruce asked, beaming.
“Eh. I’ve been better,” Oswald shrugged. He was leaning on one crutch while swinging the other back and forth.
“I never really got to thank you for what you did back when the Nobodies attacked,” Bruce said.
“Oh, it was nothing mate. Just did what I had to. Anyhow, I was thinking. We should give the zoo another go. Maybe this time the city won’t come under siege. What do you say?”
Bruce shifted his weight. There was the file, but Alfred had insisted that he had it handled.
“Sure,” Bruce grinned, “Why not.”
“And hey, if you’re wearing those clothes, you might pick up a few chicks while we’re out,” Oswald smiled, squeezing Bruce’s bicep.
“You think?” Bruce chuckled, flexing.
“Damn. You have been working out a lot,” Oswald said, amazed.
“You could say that,” Bruce nodded, “Let’s go.”
They hopped in Oswald’s new car. A stark white Audi R8.
“Nice ride,” Bruce commented.
“No kidding,” Oswald agreed, running his hand over the dashboard, “I love it.”
“So you’ve had a speedy recovery?” Bruce asked.
“Obviously,” Oswald nodded, shoving his crutches in the space between their seats.
“Meet any pretty nurses?” Bruce smiled, nudging his friend.
“Four, actually,” Oswald said.
“And…?”
“The fourth is coming over tonight,” Oswald smiled, deviously.
“Way to go,” Bruce laughed. He was trying to make it seem like he was the same playboy party-kid Oswald remembered, instead of the serious adult he had been on the day that the Nobodies attacked.
For the rest of the ride, they both just made small talk. About the game between the Gotham Knights and the Star City Archers. About the upcoming game between the Knights and Central City Bolts. About Victor Stone, the up and coming quarterback from the Detroit Lions. Anything sports related.
About twenty minutes later, they pulled up to the zoo. It had a rusted iron fence around the perimeter, with a shoddy wooden shack breaking it apart. The words “Gotham City Zoo” were barely visible. The red paint was peeling.
“Glad to see that this place is still doing well,” Oswald said, disheartened.
“Maybe it’s better on the inside?” Bruce suggested. They walked to the shack. A teen with a face full of acne was sitting in the shack, sipping a soda.
“Welcome to the Gotham City Zoo,” he said, dismissively, “Tickets are $14. Cash only.”
Bruce pulled out his wallet, and pulled out three tens. He put them down in front of the teen.
“I don’t have change,” the teen said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Bruce took in a breath sharply, then said, “Keep the change.”
“Thanks,” the kid shrugged.
Bruce quickly walked through. Oswald followed. The inside wasn’t better.
Directly in front of them was a weathered wooden wall. Behind the wall was a lone elephant. Just one. Mosquitoes swarmed the elephant, and the elephant didn’t even try to shoo them away. It was too depressed.
“Well this is sad,” Oswald said. Bruce just nodded.
They continued walking. Two orangutans were sitting beneath a tree in a miniscule habitat. Right next to their habitat was a tiger locked in a metal cage. Not even a habitat.
“What happened since I left?” Oswald asked.
“I don’t know. This seems cruel,” Bruce said.
“No kidding. I hope they at least still have penguins,” Oswald commented, “Penguins are my favorite animal. What about you, Bruce? What’s your favorite animal?”
“I like jaguars,” Bruce said.
“Jaguars?” Oswald asked, “I always pictured you as more of a bat man.”
“Batman?” Bruce chuckled. Inside, he was kind of nervous. Was Oswald hinting at the fact that he knew about Bruce’s nightlife.
“Sorry, that’s just a joke I use from time to time,” Oswald said, “I mean, whose favorite animal is a bat?”
“Not mine,” Bruce shrugged, relieved.
It only took about thirty more minutes to get through the whole zoo. There were no penguins. Or bats. Or jaguars. They got back to their car, and got in silently.
“That was a bust,” Oswald sighed.
“Yes it was,” Bruce said. He pulled out his phone, and clicked it on. There was a text from Alfred. It had been sent twenty minutes ago. He turned the phone slightly away from Oswald, and opened the text.
GET BACK HERE NOW. I OPENED THE FILE.
“So, Bruce, I was thinking that maybe we could get some lunch. Maybe meet some ladies there, since the zoo was deserted,” Oswald said, “Yes? No? Maybe so?”
Bruce quickly typed a response to Alfred: I’LL SEE WHEN I GET BACK. I’M WITH OZ
Alfred replied in seconds: IT’S ABOUT HIM.
Bruce gulped.
“Actually, Oz, I should probably be getting back home,” Bruce said, “Alfred is sick. I just want to check on him.”
“Oh. Alright then. Another day.”
“Another day,” Bruce nodded.
“What is it?” Bruce asked, jogging over to the Batcomputer.
“Have a look for yourself, sir,” Alfred sighed. He opened up the file.
OSWALD COBBLEPOT (A.K.A. THE PENGUIN)
CRIMINAL HISTORY: VIGILANTISM, HOMICIDE, THEFT, ASSAULT, BRIBERY, FRAUD, BURGLARY, ROBBERY, SEXUAL ASSAULT, FIRST-DEGREE MURDER, SECOND-DEGREE MURDER
There was more text below, but those words made Bruce shudder. The picture next to Oswald’s name showed his beaten, bloodied face. A smaller picture in the lower right hand corner of the mug shot showed him in a black and white mask that resemble a penguin’s head.
“Another masked criminal,” Alfred sighed.
“Not Oz…” Bruce said, disappointed in his friend. But this might explain the mysterious transaction. Whoever it was from.
Amanda Waller was seated at a table in a dimly lit room. Across from her was Floyd and a few other prisoners.
“So how do you like your neighbors, Floyd?” Amanda asked.
Floyd shifted in his seat uncomfortably. He glanced around at the other people at the table. A man with a heavily tattooed face who was only known as El Diablo. A hulking, crocodilian creature named Killer Croc. A woman with hair covering her face called Enchantress. And a man with a bushy beard nicknamed Captain Boomerang.
“Putting us all together? Waller, that’s suicide.”
“Exactly.”
“Rex Tyler,” Bruce said, still wearing his mask, considering Floyd Lawton was with him.
“The Hourman?” Amanda inquired.
Bruce nodded.
“I always wondered how he was doing these days,” Amanda mused, “We monitored his vigilantism in our early days. Back when I was an intern. Oh, how times have changed.”
“Keep staring as long as you want, Waller,” Floyd said.
“Quiet, Lawton,” Amanda said curtly. Floyd smiled, and pursed his lips.
“He died a hero,” Bruce said finally, “A true hero.”
“How exactly did his death come about?” Amanda asked.
“We had caught the plane with the Venom, but had no way to bring it down without killing the people on it,” Bruce explained, “So Rex lied, and said he still had some Miraclo in him. He jumped to the other plane, and threw out the crates of Venom.”
“All because of your moral code,” Amanda sighed, “Because of your refusal to do what is necessary, a hero died while two criminals lived. You might need to rethink your rule book.”
“Don’t tell me what to do Amanda,” Bruce growled.
“I must request that you address me as Commander Waller,” Amanda said, “I’ve said it before. Don’t forget it a second time.”
“Right. Commander Waller. I do this Batman thing on my own,” Bruce said, “Got it?”
“Clear as day,” Amanda Waller smiled. Thunder rumbled. It was not a clear day.
“Well that was a knee-slapped,” Floyd said, devoid of emotion, “How about you two keep bickering, and I just slip out to get a drink?”
“Stay put Lawton,” Amanda said without breaking eye contact with Bruce.
“Okee dokee,” Floyd sighed.
“I’ll be leaving now,” Bruce said.
“Aren’t you forgetting something?” Amanda asked, waving a small gray flash drive in the air.
“You got the file?” Bruce asked, impressed.
“I told you, we have every file since the internet began,” Amanda said, “That includes the file missing from Gotham’s database.”
Bruce took the file from Amanda, and forced him to thank her. She said nothing back. She just smiled, smugly. Bruce walked out of the room, and down a long, gray hall. The hall smelled of death. Then, at the end of the hall, Bruce whipped around in time to catch a man attempting to whack him in the head with a nightstick. He grabbed the man’s hand, and flipped him over.
“Please,” Bruce sighed, “If you’re going to knock me out, do it calmly. I get that Commander Waller is really big on secrecy. Just dose me with tranquilizer or something.”
“Sounds good,” the guard nodded, worried. He took a sleek silver pistol off of his belt, and fired at Bruce’s neck. Bruce took the hit, and dropped. But he wasn’t truly unconscious. He was faking. It took a few minutes for tranquilizer to knock him out. He had trained to resist the serum. The guard dragged him away anyways.
Meanwhile, back in the room with Rex Tyler’s body, Floyd was shifting uneasily.
“So, back to the slammer?” Floyd asked.
“Not yet,” Amanda said. Her lips curled into a sinister smile.
“Oh shit,” Floyd said, “What is it?”
“Come with me,” Amanda said, “I have some people I want you to meet.”
“Is this another sit down with the families of my targets?” Floyd asked, “Because you know I hate those!”
“No. No, no, no. I want you to meet your… neighbors…”
When Bruce came to, he was alone in his king-sized bed. He was still in the suit he had worn to Greenland. Alfred was standing next to it. There were dark circles under his eyes, and creases in his forehead.
“Hey Al-” Bruce started.
“Where were you Master Bruce?” Alfred asked, upset.
“Look, it was an unexpected mission,” Bruce said, “Very unexpected. As in, I was knocked unconscious, and dragged to a secret military base. Then, I was forced to go on a mission to Greenland in order to rescue a sniper and shut down a drug operation. I met the Hourman, and we fought a giant. Then, Hourman died. I know that it sounds fake, but it really happened!”
Alfred sighed.
“I promise,” Bruce added.
“At least you’re home now,” Alfred smiled, patting Bruce’s forehead, “You truly had me worried.”
“Where does the rest of the world think I’ve been?” Bruce asked.
“Off in Spain. Probably on some nudist beach,” Alfred shrugged.
“I wish,” Bruce laughed, “Did anything happen while I was gone?”
“Well, considering you’ve only been gone for two days, not much. A few minor robberies, but it’s nice to see the GCPD actually do some work instead of relying on you. They were surprised when the Dark Knight didn’t show up to save the day.”
“I guess there wasn’t much day-saving to be done,” Bruce said, getting out of bed.
“Thank goodness,” Alfred nodded.
“Luckily, something good will come out of this,” Bruce smiled.
“And what’s that, Master Bruce?”
Bruce pulled the small flash drive out from his pocket, and waved it around.
“Congratulations, you have a flash drive,” Alfred said, dryly.
“It’s what’s on the drive,” Bruce pointed out.
“It often is.”
“I’m glad to see that you’re so enthralled,” Bruce said, “Anyways, this flash drive contains the missing file from the GCPD database.”
“File 1939?” Alfred asked.
“That’s the one.”
“Well let’s go see what’s on it,” Alfred smiled, excited.
“Let me change into something more comfortable.”
Bruce stepped off of the elevator that stretched from the dining room to the Batcave. It was one of several entrances to the cave throughout Wayne Manor. This was the one that Bruce primarily used when there were no guests around. That way, if anyone came to the door, he could be up in a few moments.
Bruce had changed into a tight, white t-shirt and black sweatpants.
“Got anything?” Bruce asked, walking over to Alfred, who was in front of the Batcomputer, and clamping a hand on his shoulder.
“I thought I’d wait for you,” Alfred said. He placed the flash drive on a small, pale circle. The circle flashed green, and Alfred picked the flash drive. It was free of viruses. He then plugged the flash drive into a small slot along the side of the massive computer. A blue box appeared on the screen. There was only one file in the box. Alfred clicked it. The file opened. There was no text. Then, the letter ‘C’ flashed at the middle of the top of the page. Next was a ‘A’ a few lines beneath it, and a little bit to the left. More letters continued flashing and disappearing.
“Really? Waller couldn’t have decrypted this for me?” Bruce sighed.
“Whoever deleted this file really didn’t want anyone to see it,” Alfred said, “We’ll figure it out soon, sir.”
“I know,” Bruce nodded.
Suddenly, the doorbell rang. Bruce and Alfred exchanged looks.
“You keep working at this,” Bruce instructed. He headed for the elevator.
“I should have this cracked within the next hour,” Alfred said.
“Perfect,” Bruce smiled, quickly ascending. He reached the dining room, and stepped out of the elevator. The elevator sunk back into the floor, and the table, which had separated, moved back together. Bruce walked to the front door, and opened it.
“There he is! The man! The myth! The legend! Bruce Wayne!”
Oswald Cobblepot.
“Oz! How are you holding up?” Bruce asked, beaming.
“Eh. I’ve been better,” Oswald shrugged. He was leaning on one crutch while swinging the other back and forth.
“I never really got to thank you for what you did back when the Nobodies attacked,” Bruce said.
“Oh, it was nothing mate. Just did what I had to. Anyhow, I was thinking. We should give the zoo another go. Maybe this time the city won’t come under siege. What do you say?”
Bruce shifted his weight. There was the file, but Alfred had insisted that he had it handled.
“Sure,” Bruce grinned, “Why not.”
“And hey, if you’re wearing those clothes, you might pick up a few chicks while we’re out,” Oswald smiled, squeezing Bruce’s bicep.
“You think?” Bruce chuckled, flexing.
“Damn. You have been working out a lot,” Oswald said, amazed.
“You could say that,” Bruce nodded, “Let’s go.”
They hopped in Oswald’s new car. A stark white Audi R8.
“Nice ride,” Bruce commented.
“No kidding,” Oswald agreed, running his hand over the dashboard, “I love it.”
“So you’ve had a speedy recovery?” Bruce asked.
“Obviously,” Oswald nodded, shoving his crutches in the space between their seats.
“Meet any pretty nurses?” Bruce smiled, nudging his friend.
“Four, actually,” Oswald said.
“And…?”
“The fourth is coming over tonight,” Oswald smiled, deviously.
“Way to go,” Bruce laughed. He was trying to make it seem like he was the same playboy party-kid Oswald remembered, instead of the serious adult he had been on the day that the Nobodies attacked.
For the rest of the ride, they both just made small talk. About the game between the Gotham Knights and the Star City Archers. About the upcoming game between the Knights and Central City Bolts. About Victor Stone, the up and coming quarterback from the Detroit Lions. Anything sports related.
About twenty minutes later, they pulled up to the zoo. It had a rusted iron fence around the perimeter, with a shoddy wooden shack breaking it apart. The words “Gotham City Zoo” were barely visible. The red paint was peeling.
“Glad to see that this place is still doing well,” Oswald said, disheartened.
“Maybe it’s better on the inside?” Bruce suggested. They walked to the shack. A teen with a face full of acne was sitting in the shack, sipping a soda.
“Welcome to the Gotham City Zoo,” he said, dismissively, “Tickets are $14. Cash only.”
Bruce pulled out his wallet, and pulled out three tens. He put them down in front of the teen.
“I don’t have change,” the teen said, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.
Bruce took in a breath sharply, then said, “Keep the change.”
“Thanks,” the kid shrugged.
Bruce quickly walked through. Oswald followed. The inside wasn’t better.
Directly in front of them was a weathered wooden wall. Behind the wall was a lone elephant. Just one. Mosquitoes swarmed the elephant, and the elephant didn’t even try to shoo them away. It was too depressed.
“Well this is sad,” Oswald said. Bruce just nodded.
They continued walking. Two orangutans were sitting beneath a tree in a miniscule habitat. Right next to their habitat was a tiger locked in a metal cage. Not even a habitat.
“What happened since I left?” Oswald asked.
“I don’t know. This seems cruel,” Bruce said.
“No kidding. I hope they at least still have penguins,” Oswald commented, “Penguins are my favorite animal. What about you, Bruce? What’s your favorite animal?”
“I like jaguars,” Bruce said.
“Jaguars?” Oswald asked, “I always pictured you as more of a bat man.”
“Batman?” Bruce chuckled. Inside, he was kind of nervous. Was Oswald hinting at the fact that he knew about Bruce’s nightlife.
“Sorry, that’s just a joke I use from time to time,” Oswald said, “I mean, whose favorite animal is a bat?”
“Not mine,” Bruce shrugged, relieved.
It only took about thirty more minutes to get through the whole zoo. There were no penguins. Or bats. Or jaguars. They got back to their car, and got in silently.
“That was a bust,” Oswald sighed.
“Yes it was,” Bruce said. He pulled out his phone, and clicked it on. There was a text from Alfred. It had been sent twenty minutes ago. He turned the phone slightly away from Oswald, and opened the text.
GET BACK HERE NOW. I OPENED THE FILE.
“So, Bruce, I was thinking that maybe we could get some lunch. Maybe meet some ladies there, since the zoo was deserted,” Oswald said, “Yes? No? Maybe so?”
Bruce quickly typed a response to Alfred: I’LL SEE WHEN I GET BACK. I’M WITH OZ
Alfred replied in seconds: IT’S ABOUT HIM.
Bruce gulped.
“Actually, Oz, I should probably be getting back home,” Bruce said, “Alfred is sick. I just want to check on him.”
“Oh. Alright then. Another day.”
“Another day,” Bruce nodded.
“What is it?” Bruce asked, jogging over to the Batcomputer.
“Have a look for yourself, sir,” Alfred sighed. He opened up the file.
OSWALD COBBLEPOT (A.K.A. THE PENGUIN)
CRIMINAL HISTORY: VIGILANTISM, HOMICIDE, THEFT, ASSAULT, BRIBERY, FRAUD, BURGLARY, ROBBERY, SEXUAL ASSAULT, FIRST-DEGREE MURDER, SECOND-DEGREE MURDER
There was more text below, but those words made Bruce shudder. The picture next to Oswald’s name showed his beaten, bloodied face. A smaller picture in the lower right hand corner of the mug shot showed him in a black and white mask that resemble a penguin’s head.
“Another masked criminal,” Alfred sighed.
“Not Oz…” Bruce said, disappointed in his friend. But this might explain the mysterious transaction. Whoever it was from.
Amanda Waller was seated at a table in a dimly lit room. Across from her was Floyd and a few other prisoners.
“So how do you like your neighbors, Floyd?” Amanda asked.
Floyd shifted in his seat uncomfortably. He glanced around at the other people at the table. A man with a heavily tattooed face who was only known as El Diablo. A hulking, crocodilian creature named Killer Croc. A woman with hair covering her face called Enchantress. And a man with a bushy beard nicknamed Captain Boomerang.
“Putting us all together? Waller, that’s suicide.”
“Exactly.”