Downtown Washington, DC

“King?” Sergeant Steel asked.  His head was tilted to the side in confusion.  The gun clutched tightly in his hands lowered to his waist.

“Hello, Sarge,” responded King Faraday, the Director of the Strong Arm of Humanity.  He stood up straight, shut the window through which he had tried to escape, and smoothed out the suit sans coat he was wearing.  “It’s been a while.”

Steel appeared as though he wanted to speak, but the words were lost on him.  His hands fell completely down to his side, the barrel of his gun turned toward the floor.

“I know this must be a surprise for you,” King continued.  He managed to take one step toward Steel before the Black Canary interjected herself between the two men.  Dinah Lance’s back was arched, her mouth open, a deep breath ready to be expelled in the form of her Canary Cry.  She was playing for keeps.

King got the idea, put up his hands in a sign of nonviolence, and stepped back next to the window.

“King, what are you doing here?” Sergeant Steel asked after recovering from the initial shock and awe he had experienced.  “I figured you were dead.”

“No such luck,” King Faraday replied with a shrug.  “And as for where I’ve been?  That, my friend, is a long story.”

It was in that moment, between heartbeats, that Steel finally internalized the epiphany standing before him.  His demeanor immediately shifted; his mouth lowered into a frown, his eyes squinted ominously, and his voice lowered an octave.  “You’re the Director of the Strong Arm of Humanity?” he asked, nearly growling.

“I suppose lying at his point would be futile,” King replied without hesitation.  “I’m afraid I’m guilty of holding that title.”

“People have died because of you,” Steel said.  His knuckles on the hand holding the gun were turning stark white as he squeezed the handle in frustration.  “How could you do this?  That’s not like you.”

King looked down at the ground, his shoulders slumping like a child being chastised by a parent or teacher.  “You don’t know me anymore, Sarge,” he said.  “You haven’t known me for a long time.  You don’t know what I’m capable of.  Anyway, it’s a long story.”

Sergeant Steel rushed past Black Canary, surprising her.  He moved quickly, grabbing King’s collared shirt in one hand and jabbing the barrel of his gun up underneath King’s chin with the other.  “Then perhaps you should start talking,” Sergeant Steel suggested.


XXX

TFX America's Personal Meta-Team...


:Division of Checkmate

“Accountable”

Masterminds: Part Two
Task Force X #20 - July, Year Six by Matt Hrubey


XXX

Amanda Waller strode with a purpose into the Brig of the Citadel.  With each step she took, her heels clacked across the stainless steel of the floor.  The doors that had parted to admit her entrance closed at her back of their own accord.  Waller moved to the primary guard station where a single Checkmate agent, a male, sat watching a series of monitors.  When he saw the Wall approach, the agent jumped to his feet, straightened his back, and puffed out his chest.

Waller rolled her eyes.  “At ease, soldier.”

The man did not break his pose.  “Thank you for coming so quickly, White Queen.”

“What's the situation?” asked Waller.  “You made it sound urgent.”

“One of the prisoners, Frances Kane, has been asking for you,” the agent responded.  “Well, to be more accurate: she's been shouting for you.  She keeps screaming about some deal you two made and how you haven't kept up your end.  We've chalked it up to insane ramblings, but she's been at it for a while and doesn't seem likely to stop anytime soon.”

Waller sighed and rubbed her right temple.  “Agent, if you speak a word about any of this to anyone, I'll fire you.  I'd prefer to take care of this discreetly and put it behind us.  Understood?”

The agent nodded.  “Yes, ma'am.”

“Wonderful,” Waller said.  “Open her cell.  I'm going in.”

“White Queen, I really don't think you should—”

“Save it,” the Wall shot back.  “I'm a big girl and I can take care of myself.  Activate the security measures once I'm inside.”  As she strode toward the cell of Frances Kane, the Rogue known as Magenta, Waller glanced back over her shoulder.  “Make sure you kill the video feed too, agent.  Remember, ‘discreet’ is the name of the game.”

The agent nodded.  “Yes, ma'am.”  With a few keystrokes, the security measures to Magenta's cell as well as the security cameras monitoring the area shut off.  The agent whispered a prayer that no security breaches take place on his watch.  He looked back across the Brig just as Waller stepped into Magenta's cell.

“Finally!” Frances Kane exclaimed when she glimpsed the White Queen of Checkmate.  “I have a bone to pick with you.”

Waller stood for a moment until she heard a dull humming sound that denoted the security measures, specifically the power dampening field, being reactivated.  Once she was sure her orders had been followed, Waller stormed across the small cell and backhanded Magenta across the face.  The lithe, mentally unstable woman was thrown from her bed and landed in a heap on the floor.

“Bitch!” Magenta shouted.

“What do you think you're doing?” Waller asked.  “Drawing attention to yourself?  To me?!  I thought we had an understanding about the importance of anonymity!”

“I-I thought you had reneged on our arrangement.”

“No, you moron!” Waller shouted.  She stopped for a moment, took a deep breath, and spoke again in a much quieter tone.  “I've been waiting for the right time and the opportunity to get you out.  I can't just walk in here and demand that you be released.  All kinds of questions would be asked that I can't afford for various reasons.”

“When will the right time be?” Magenta asked.

“When I say so,” Waller shot back.  “Until then, I expect you to sit here and shut the hell up like we had talked about.  If you keep making a scene, you'll never get out.  You'll compromise your only chance at freedom.”

Magenta nodded her head quickly like a child that had just been scolded.  “I-I'll stay quiet.  I promise.  I want to get out of here and find my lover.”

“Good.  I've got other matters that I need to take care of.  I can't be worrying about you too.”

“You won't have to worry about me.  I-I swear.”

Waller nodded.  “I'm glad we had this talk.  I’ll be in touch.”  She turned on her right heel, clapped her hands twice as a sign she was ready to leave, waited until the hum died away, and exited.

As she returned to her office, Amanda Waller had already mentally filed away Magenta's grievance as an issue to be addressed later.  She was much more focused at the moment on present issues.  With each step she took, Waller became more and more concerned with the events taking place in Washington, wondering just how they could impact her and her future.

Three Years Ago

Paris, France

The white haired man sat in a nondescript sidewalk café, a cup of steaming tea resting on the table and the daily newspaper in his hands.  To random passersby, the white haired man appeared to be just another person enjoying the morning sunshine, content to read in peace.  Looks could be very deceiving, however.

In reality, the white haired man’s eyes were peering over the top of the newspaper, scanning the crowd behind darkly tinted sunglasses.  He was looking for somebody; who, he wasn’t exactly sure.  The white haired man was confident, however, that he would know this person when he saw him or her.  His attention was so focused, he nearly jumped out of his chair when his eyes drifted back to his table and found the opposite seat occupied.

“What the hell?” the white haired man exclaimed.

“I’m surprised I got this close to you without being noticed,” a heavy set African-American woman said.  “I’m a little disappointed too.  You come so highly recommended.”

The white haired man was bewildered that this woman was now sitting across from him.  He was supposed to be deep undercover, for god’s sake.  Multiple scenarios were playing in his head, resulting from the implications of what this meeting could mean.  If his identity and location had been compromised, his life could very well end in the next several minutes.

The heavy set woman extended her hand across the table.  “Your cover is not blown, Mr. Faraday,” she said, “so stop worrying.  I’m here for a reason and having you crucified as an American spy would be detrimental to my plans.”

“Amanda Waller,” King responded, returning her handshake.  King knew of Waller, of course.  Their past interactions had both made her unforgettable and verified her reputation as a hard ass.  He sat back in his chair, forcing himself to relax despite the adrenaline coursing through his body.  “To what do I owe the pleasure?  Or, more to the point, how the hell did you know I was in Paris?”

“I’m in the President’s Cabinet,” Waller replied.  “There’s not much I don’t know or can’t find out.”  With a shrug, she added: “It probably didn’t hurt that I had photographic evidence of an extramarital affair involving an executive in the upper echelon of the Central Bureau of Intelligence.  I flashed the pictures once and he sung like a canary; provided me with your CBI file as well as your current mission parameters and location.”

King rubbed the bridge of his nose.  He felt a headache coming on.  “You can’t trust anyone nowadays.  It didn’t use to be that way in the old days.”

“No, I’m sure it wasn’t,” Waller replied.  “It was all baseball and apple pies back then, wasn’t it?”  She rolled her eyes.  “Anyway, to make a long story short: I’m here to offer you a job.”

King looked up at Waller and snorted.  “Really?”

“Yes.”

“Seriously?”

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” Waller replied.

“No really, I’m sorry,” King said.  “I’m just surprised you went to all the trouble of tracking me down just to offer me a job.”

Waller shrugged.  “You haven’t heard what the job is yet.”

King motioned for her to continue.  “Well then, please don’t keep me in suspense any longer.”

“As you just said yourself, Mr. Faraday, the world has changed,” Waller began.  “The age of metahumans is upon us.  While most are content to sit back and take solace in their beliefs that the “heroes” will always be there to defeat the “villains”, I prefer to take a more realistic outlook.  The world is going to hell and metahumans are plotting the course.  You can hardly turn on the news anymore without seeing a story about some kind of meta fight taking place in a highly populated metro area, causing millions or billions of dollars in damage.  Frankly, it’s unacceptable.”

King said nothing, but rather remained silent as Waller continued.

“Now, I’ve been known to include Metas as part of special teams assembled in pursuance of my duties—”

“Just say the Suicide Squad.  I am well aware of its past existence so please don’t pretend I’m an idiot.”  King tapped his chin and then added: “In fact, a lot more people know about the squad than you think.  Nobody wants to be a whistleblower though because the idea of using super-villains as cannon fodder has a certain appeal.”

Waller continued, unabated.  “The point is Metas can be great assets in the field.  However, there are now too many in existence to be satisfactorily managed and overseen.  That’s where you come in.”

King cocked an eyebrow.  “Keep going,” he said.  “I want to know all the facts before I tell you to shove it.”

Waller frowned.  “I’m talking about the creation of a new organization, independent of the government and the intelligence community.  You would be the executive director in charge.  Your mission would be to thin the herd of metahumans.”

King actually laughed.  “Ms. Waller, please tell me you’re recruiting me to start an organization whose sole purpose is to murder metahumans.  Because that’s exactly what this sounds like.”

“I would leave the choice of methods you adopt to your discretion,” Waller said with a shrug.  “For plausible deniability on my part, of course.”

“Why me?”

“Because, as I said before, you come highly recommended,” Waller answered.  “You have connections and you know how to get things done.  Plus, I need someone a bit ruthless and I heard you have just the mentality.”

Faraday stood up.  “No fucking way, Waller.  I’m leaving now and I’m going to pretend this conversation didn’t happen.  I suggest you do the same.  You know, because you’re a public official suggesting genocide against a group of American citizens.”

Waller slammed her palm on the table.  Faraday’s tea cup flipped onto its side, spilling its contents across the white linen tablecloth.  “Sit down,” Waller said, quietly but sternly.  Her eyes darted from side to side, taking in the fact that her outburst had drawn the unwanted attention of the other café guests.

“Is that an order?”

“No, I’m not your superior,” Waller replied.  “Not yet, at least.  I suggest you take a seat because I’m not finished with my pitch yet and you’ll like this last part.”

Against his better judgment, Faraday returned to his seat.  He restored the teacup to its upright position and then looked at Waller.

“I know about your son,” Waller said.

Faraday shook his head.  “You’re mistaken.  I don’t have a son.”

“You asked me not to insult your intelligence; I now ask the same in return.  I know you would prefer the world not know about your son, the result of an indiscretion during one of your past CBI missions.  The child’s mother was one of your targets, correct?  Oh, be here’s the issue: If your son is alive, that means your target, which you reported deceased, is still alive and kicking.  And that means you falsified records and provided false testimony.  That’s a no-no, Mr. Faraday.  Despite the number of years that have passed, if anyone at the CBI find outs you’ll be out on your ass, disgraced and jobless.”

Faraday shrugged.  He reacted nonchalantly, though he couldn’t keep a bead of nervous sweat from running down his forehead and cheek.  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he said.

“How about a reminder?” Waller asked.  She reached into the bag at her feet and extracted a single photograph of a young boy.  She slid it across the table.  The moment King saw the photo, his eyes bulged and Waller knew she had him.  “When I said I came to offer you a job,” she said, “I never said it was one I would allow you to refuse.”

Faraday glanced back up at Waller, a defeated look in his eyes.  “If I do this for you…?”

“No one ever finds out about your son or your past transgressions while in the employ of the Central Bureau of Intelligence,” Waller said.  When Faraday looked down at the table, his body sagging in his chair, Waller added: “This is the beginning of a very fruitful partnership, Mr. Faraday.”

Now

Washington, DC

“And that’s how it happened,” King Faraday concluded.  To summarize, he added: “Amanda Waller is responsible for the creation of the Strong Arm of Humanity.  I mean, yes, I had a large role in it, but the initial idea was Waller’s and Waller’s alone.”

Black Canary’s mouth was open in shock.  She turned to Sergeant Steel, who was wearing a similar expression.

“I would also like to emphasize the fact that I was blackmailed in this scenario,” King added after a moment of silence.

Steel put up a finger, signaling King to stop speaking.  “I will deal with you in a minute,” he said, then used that same finger to activate the Bluetooth device in his ear.  “Pat, you read me?”

“Loud and clear, Black King,” came the response from Patrick Dugan, the Black Bishop, at the Citadel.

“Find the White Queen and take her into custody,” Steel ordered.  “Immediately.”

There was a moment of hesitation.  “Did I read you correctly, sir?  You want me to take Waller into custody?”

“Affirmative,” Steel said.  “Do it now.  I’ll fill you in on all the details when I return.”

“Yes, sir.  Tracking her now.”

“Inform me when you have her in custody,” Steel said.

“Yes, sir.  Black Bishop out.”

When the radio connection ended, Sergeant Steel remained silent.  His eyes were jammed shut and he was forcibly massaging the bridge of his nose.  A pounding headache had broken out and he muttered several curses.  “Dugan is going to track down Waller,” Steel finally said, presumably to Black Canary.  “God damn, this is the last thing I need.  Everything Waller touches turns to shit, I swear!”

“You’re mistake was thinking the Wall had amicable intentions in the first place,” King interjected.  “That woman is always out for herself, even when it doesn’t look like it.”

Steel looked up, the pain in his head momentarily forgotten.  “And you, King!  How the hell could you play a part in the Strong Arm of Humanity?”

“I just told you,” King responded.  “Waller threatened to expose me and target my son.”

“And the fact that you have a son?!  How long have you known about him?  Why didn’t you ever tell me?”  Steel stopped himself, muttered something unintelligible under his breath, and shook his hands back and forth.  “Never mind,” he said.  “None of that’s important right now.”

“Are you alright, Sarge?” Black Canary asked.  She was eyeing the Black King as if he were having a complete mental breakdown.

“No, Canary, I’m not, but that’s not important right now either,” Steel replied.  He looked King in the eyes, a sudden sadness overtaking him, causing his shoulders to droop.  “You realize you’re going to prison, right?  Regardless of your rationale, your actions speak for themselves.”

“C’mon, Sarge—”

“You let people die on your watch,” Black Canary interjected.  Her grimace spoke volumes of her disdain for King Faraday.  “Simple as that.”

“Why don’t you keep your mouth shut, you—”

Steel stepped in between Black Canary and King Faraday, silencing them both.  With a sneer, he stuck a finger in King’s face. “You shut your mouth, King!  The Black Canary deserves your respect, not your insults.  And besides, she’s right.  You let people die.”

“The original intention of the Strong Arm of Humanity was never to kill anyone,” King said.  “I wanted to sequester them away.”

Black Canary rolled her eyes.  “You know that never would have worked.  Containing meta-humans is problematic at best.”

“The Strong Arm was made up of people with vendettas against meta-humans,” King said.  A panic was overtaking his voice as he desperately grasped for anything that would justify his tenure as Director of the Strong Arm of Humanity.  “I can’t be held accountable for their actions!  They were crazy!”

“Unfortunately, by taking over leadership of the organization,” Steel responded.  “You can be held accountable.  And you will be.”

“Sarge—”

“I’m sorry, King,” Steel said.  He gave a quick nod to Black Canary, who stepped toward Faraday.  

Dinah Lance recited: “King Faraday, you have the right to remain silent.  Anything you say or do can and will be held against you in a court of law…”

A Few Minutes Ago

The Citadel
 
Amanda Waller stormed into her office, slamming the door in her wake.  This is just what she needed!  Steel and Task Force X were closing in on the Strong Arm of Humanity, which would inevitably lead to them discovering the role she had played in its creation.  Meanwhile, dealing with that crisis has been superseded by Magenta, who was clearly incapable of keeping her mouth shut!  If Waller was able to manipulate her way out of these dual situations, she would consider it a miracle.  She would even consider taking a vacation, something she hadn’t done in years.
 
She stopped in front of her desk and planted her palms on the smooth, cool wood.  Waller leaned forward and took a deep breath, trying to cleanse her body of the stress that had been building continuously for days.  She was a stronger person than this!  She was the Wall, for god’s sake!

Amanda straightened, took one more deep breath, and moved around her desk.  She sat in her chair and grabbed for her morning cup of coffee that was now cold to the touch.  Waller grimaced but swigged down the remaining liquid anyway.

Short of warning King Faraday of Task Force X’s impending arrival (which she had already done), there was nothing she could do to help him in Washington.  Furthermore, worrying was an unproductive use of time.  She needed a project to distract her, something that was within her power to accomplish.  Amanda thought quickly and decided dealing with Magenta and Doctor Polaris was as good a task as any*.  She began to brainstorm methods by which she could get Magenta free from the Brig.  Although the task was a difficult one, where there was a will, there was a way, and Amanda Waller happened to be quite willful.  She reached for a pad of paper and a pen.

* Doctor Polaris went AWOL at the end of TASK FORCE X #16 and hasn’t been heard from since.  Waller was attempting to use Magenta’s magnetic abilities to track Doctor Polaris based on his similar power set.  -MH

When Amanda’s fingers were unable to grasp the pen resting a few feet from her, she immediately knew something was wrong.  She tapped her desk and realized that her fingertips were numb.  In fact, the sensation was quickly spreading up both her arms and her legs.  Amanda attempted rising to her feet but found her legs were unable to support her weight.  Her eyes widened as a panic began to overtake her.

“Terrifying, isn’t it?” a voice asked.  Waller’s eyes shifted to the shadowed corner of her office where a woman finally made herself known.  “Not being in control that is.  For someone who is as big a control freak as you, this must be downright torture.”

If Amanda could have screamed, she would have.  Unfortunately, her entire body failed to respond to her wishes, turning her into nothing more than a living statue.  Her eyes were fixed upon Jade Nguyen, the assassin Cheshire, and Waller knew, given the woman’s MO, that she had been poisoned.  She tried to reach for her phone, to call for help, but failed.

“You’re experiencing the effects of a potent muscle relaxant,” Cheshire said, confirming Waller’s suspicions.  “I created it myself, of course, and put it in your coffee.”  She gazed upon the Wall, moved to the paralyzed woman’s side, and ran a finger down her cheek.  Though she couldn’t verbalize it, Waller was incensed by the blatant taunting, a fact Cheshire knew and exploited.  “You must have a lot of questions.  Since you can’t ask them yourself, I suppose I’ll just have to guess.”

Cheshire stepped back to the opposing side of the desk.  She began pacing, her fingers rubbing her chin as if in deep thought.  “First, you’re probably wondering how it is that I’m here.  Well, you have Checkmate to thank for that.  It turns out, even though I left the Citadel weeks ago, all of my passcodes are still fully functional.  Second, you probably want to know why I’m here.  Unfortunately for you, you’re one hundred percent responsible for that one.”

Cheshire slammed her palms down on the desk.  Normally, Waller would have flinched, but her body was incapable of even such minute actions.

“A dead man told me you’re responsible for my daughter being kidnapped,” Cheshire said.  Her face had become stone cold.  “That is a big fucking problem in my book.”

As she moved back to Waller’s side, Cheshire continued: “Don’t get me wrong, I understand why you did it.  I murdered a couple meta-haters and they got pissed.  You needed a scapegoat to get them off your back and since I walked out on you and Task Force X, you figured you could have them target me and you could get some measure of revenge.  That’s perfectly fine with me, especially since you always contract out exacting revenge to other people.  Your mistake was getting my daughter involved.  The minute those two Strong Arm tools touched my daughter, your death warrant was signed, Amanda.”

Cheshire’s eyes locked with those of the Wall.  What Cheshire saw in Amanda’s eyes was not a plea for sympathy but a threat of violence.  Cheshire actually smiled; she expected nothing less from the White Queen of Checkmate.

“At this point, you’re probably regretting ever contacting me to join Task Force X*,” Cheshire said.  “Am I right, Amanda?  Well, my biggest regret is not having done this to you sooner, you fat bitch!”

*JLU Showcase #22

Cheshire grabbed Amanda by the neck and smiled devilishly: “Say night-night.”

Five Minutes Later

A single kick broke the lock to the White Queen’s office door.  The door swung open on its hinges and slammed against the wall.  Patrick Dugan stood in the doorway, gun in hand and a squadron of uniformed Checkmate agents at his back.

Dugan waited but a moment before entering.  “Amanda, I know you’re in here.  You’re under arrest, you piece of shit.”  He stepped forward and muttered under his breath, “God, I’ve wanted to say that for a long time.”

The chair behind Amanda’s desk was faced away from the office entrance.  Dugan began moving around the desk, his gun raised and his eyes glancing to each corner of the office and finding them empty.  The Checkmate agents swept into the room too and took up strategic positions, their weapons pointed at the desk.  Dugan stepped fully behind the desk and found Amanda slumped over in her chair.

“Black Bishop?” one of the Checkmate agents asked.  “Is she here?”

Dugan nodded.  “She’s here.  She’s sleeping on the job.”  He kicked Amanda’s foot, hoping to jostle her awake.  “Wake up, Waller!”  When she didn’t stir, Dugan kicked again.  Waller remained immobile and Dugan shook her by the shoulders.

Still nothing.

“What the hell?” Dugan asked.  “Amanda?”

One Week Later

The Citadel
The Board Room

“You look fantastic, Dinah!  Very tan.”

Dinah Lance leaned back in her chair, admiring her darkened skin in the overhead light.  “A week long furlough in the Caribbean will do that for anyone.  You should have joined, Bea.  It was amazing!”

Beatriz da Costa smiled.  “As fun as a girl’s only vacation would’ve been, I couldn’t pass up the opportunity to see my father.  He gets testy if too much time passes between visits.”

Dinah replied, “I completely understand.  Family always comes first.  In this business you never know if or when you’re going to see your loved ones again.”  She shifted in her seat and turned to the two men seated at the conference table: Nathaniel Adam and Patrick Dugan.  “What about you two?  Either of you do anything fun on your impromptu vacations?”

“I went back to Blue Valley, saw Barbara and the kids,” Pat replied.  “It was nice settling back into my old life for a few days.”

“I was here,” Nate answered once Pat was finished.  “Training.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you work too much?” Dinah asked the captain.

Nate nodded.  “Everyone I’ve ever met.”

Laughter erupted from those seated around the conference table, but it was quickly interrupted by the arrival of Checkmate’s Black King.  Sergeant Steel walked into the room wearing a well-tailored, black Armani suit.  A maroon tie hung loosely around his neck.  He seemed exhausted but there was a fire, a passion, burning in his eyes.

“Look at you, Sarge,” Dinah catcalled.  “GQ beware.”  She winked.

“Thank you, Lance,” Steel said, but offered no further pleasantries.  He took his spot at the head of the rectangular table, folded his hands on the tabletop, and took a deep breath.  Something was weighing on him heavily.  “I hope you all enjoyed your time off, despite the extenuating circumstances.  Now that we’re back, we have some serious business to take care of.  Before we get to that, however, I wanted to bring you all up to speed on the aftermath of the Washington mission and corresponding missions.

“I’m happy to report that, except for a few radicals who managed to evade Checkmate agents, the Strong Arm of Humanity has been completely dismantled.  Tech support was able to extract the files from each regional headquarters we overtook and piece together a complete map of all Strong Arm physical assets and bases of operation.  Their financial assets have been frozen and seized, and their members have been distributed to prisons across the country.  Unfortunately, a lot of them will go free due to a lack of incriminating evidence, but with its infrastructure gone, the odds of the Strong Arm of Humanity returning are minimal.”

“Good riddance,” Captain Atom interjected.

“I agree that that’s great news,” Beatriz said, “but that’s not what we’re all curious about, Sarge.”

Steel nodded.  “Amanda Waller is alive, but she’s in a coma.”  He waited a moment as the news sunk in.  The members of Task Force X shared silent glances as they internalized Waller’s condition.  Steel continued, “Her vitals are stable; in fact, it’s as if there’s nothing wrong with her at all.  However, she’s unresponsive and can’t be awakened.”

“Any thoughts as to the cause?” Dugan asked.  He was vividly remembering finding Waller’s body in her office.  He shivered; he hated the woman, but never wished physical harm upon her.

“Cheshire,” Steel replied.  “Citadel security footage places her in the general vicinity of Amanda’s office at approximately the time the doctors said the attack would have taken place.”

Dinah interjected, “I talked to Roy Harper after the Washington mission.  He and Cheshire located their daughter and were able to get her back safely.  He said Waller provided the Strong Arm members that kidnapped Lian with his home address.  I’m not surprised Cheshire was here.  She was getting revenge.”

“And boy did she deliver,” Steel said.  “The doctors found traces of a toxin in Amanda’s bloodstream, which we all know is Cheshire’s M.O.  Unfortunately, although we have the government’s and academia’s best doctors and scientists on the project, no one seems capable of identifying just what toxin or what kind of toxin we’re dealing with.  What short-term and long-term effects the toxin will have on Amanda’s body is purely speculative at the moment.”

“How did Cheshire even get into the building?” Beatriz asked.  “She quit the team weeks ago.”

Steel shrugged.  “Her passcodes were still active.  There’s no excuse for it, but it is what it is.”  His eyes scanned the members of Task Force X and saw a level of tension had developed in the room.  “Look, people, let’s just say it out loud: there is no love lost for Amanda Waller in this room.  That being said, none of us wished this upon her.  It’s unfortunate that this is the form the repercussions of her actions took, but none of us could have done anything to prevent it.  Agreed?”

There were four nods around the table.

Steel continued, “The reason I called this meeting today is because Amanda’s absence leaves big shoes to fill.  Because she was the White Queen as well as a member of the President’s Cabinet, she had responsibilities that must be fulfilled.  I just left a meeting with POTUS at the White House and he appears to have ideas in mind to ensure the succession of Amanda’s positions.  First off, he asked me to serve as Interim Director of Meta-Human Affairs.  His rationale was that my experience as Black King of Checkmate makes me an ideal candidate to oversee the American meta-human population.”

Dinah shifted forward in her seat, her eyes wide.  “That’s a hell of a promotion, Sarge.  What did you say?”

“After I stopped laughing?” Steel asked.  “What was I supposed to say?  The President of the United States asked me to serve my country.  I was trained never to say ‘no’ to my commanding officer.”

Captain Atom nodded.  “Damn straight.”

“Congratulations!” Beatriz exclaimed, a giant smile on her face.

Dugan appeared much more somber.  “That explains the suit,” he said, “but I have a feeling you’re not done.”

Steel pointed at Dugan.  “And that intuition is part of the reason I made you my bishop in the first place, Pat.  No, I’m not done.  POTUS also wants me to stay on as Black King of Checkmate, but we both agreed that the organization needs to undergo some changes.  When Waller brought me into Checkmate, I was a recovering alcoholic.  Dealing with my personal problems meant I let Waller take the lead most of the time and I rarely questioned her judgment.  Clearly, that was a huge mistake on my part.  Fortunately, while I’m able to admit my mistakes, the more important thing is that I’ve learned from them.

“With that in mind, the president has put me in charge of overhauling Checkmate.  Large scale changes will require the approval of POTUS, but the day-to-day decisions will be left to my discretion.  I feel like it’s a good plan.  Waller has taught us that too much power in the hands of a single person can be deadly.  Checks and balances need to be in place.”

“This is starting to sound like a government class, Sarge,” Beatriz said.  “I mean, director.”

Steel shook his head and smiled.  “It’s going to take me a while to get comfortable being called that.”

“What kinds of changes are you seeking to implement?” Dinah asked.

“There’s only one concrete item in my mind at this moment,” Steel replied.  He looked down at the table, avoiding the eyes surrounding him, when he said: “I’m disbanding Task Force X.”  He looked up, expecting outrage, but received none.  In fact, the members of the suddenly-defunct task force said nothing.  He continued: “While I value each and every one of you, the concept of this team is rotten to the core.  Waller felt that manipulating super-villains into doing their “civic duty” was a strategic use of assets.  I believe doing so is just asking for trouble and, lo and behold, we’ve had nothing but since its re-creation.  Instead of trying to rebrand or redefine Task Force X, I’d rather wipe the slate clean and start again.”

“What does this mean for us, sir?” Captain Atom asked.  The overhead lights were reflecting off his silver skin, making it hard for Steel to look the captain in the eyes.

“I figured you’d be the one to ask, Nate,” Steel replied with a smirk.  “As I said, I value you all.  Therefore, I put the option before each one of you.  Some of you joined Task Force X because of a genuine interest in helping your country; some of you joined as a favor to me and have remained because of that obligation; and some of you have stayed out of spite.  Right here, right now, I’m offering you an out.  You can leave Checkmate today, no questions asked and no hard feelings.”

Again, silent looks were exchanged between Black Canary, Fire, Captain Atom, and the former S.T.R.I.P.E.  

“I would like you all to stay, but I understand if you choose not to,” Steel said.  “If you do choose to stay, you’ll be rolled into the general personnel for a time until I can figure out the best application of your skills and abilities.  The golden age of Checkmate is just beginning, people.

“So,” Sergeant Steel said after a moment’s pause.  He rose to his feet and crossed his arms—

“What’s it gonna be?”
End of TASK FORCE X
XXX


NEXT ISSUE: Well, there won't be a Next Issue, at least for the forseeable future.  This issue marks the end of Task Force X as well as Matt Hrubey's fantastic run on the Title. I was lucky enough to watch Matt grow as a writer from his early days on Birds of Prey to an astounding run on Wonder Woman, finally to here and the story you just read. Very lucky indeed that Matt chose to write for JLU: 2001.

Will TFX return? Probably in some form or another at some point. Will Matt be back? Hopefully. He's hinted at more ideas and it would be a shame to see his talent gone from our site and fanfic in whole. Whatever he decides, I wish him the very best!

Matt, it's been an honor. Thanks!

Curt

Story © 2011 Matt Hrubey and may not be reproduced without permission.