The Mirror World Saga

Part I: Africa Is Burning

Chapter 1: Ambush in the Jungle

by Pale Horse

pale-horse-x@juno.com

***

"Getting caught is the mother of invention."

- Robert Byrne

***

The sun beat down upon the jungle, shining through the mist into the dense foliage below. A soft green light filtered through the leaves high above. The camp was in a flurry of activity on the jungle floor. Reports filtered in from all over the southern border of the African state of Wakanda. Their forces had begun an aggressive campaign into the territory of Gorilla City, the realm of sentient and advanced apes. Now the Gorilla City army was leading a vicious counterattack. General Jarkanga of the Royal Wakandan Army had moved his command and control unit closer to the front lines in anticipation of it. He missed being in the thick of it, and now was his second chance at glory since being promoted.

A young African soldier hustled up to the desk full of maps that the General was examining and brushed an aide aside in his rush. The aide yelled angrily and grabbed at him, pushing him away from the General. The General instead waved him away and beckoned the soldier forward.

"What is so important you disrespect my aide N'dele in so brazen a fashion?" he demanded in Wakandan. "Well, out with it before I let him loose on you!"

"Urgent, sir!" He immediately gathered himself and stood rigidly at attention. "Observation point K'dala reports picking up a small aircraft skirting our airspace on a Northwestern vector on radar."

"Visual confirmation?"

"Negative, sir! Suspect the craft is cloaked. Sensors detect a familiar silhouette. Latverian, sir."

"Hmph," Jarkanga scanned what little sky he could see beyond the trees and wiped the sweat off his the dark skin of his forehead. The hot and humid air hung oppressively over his head. "It was only a matter of time. He was bound to come sooner or later. It is expected, and we are prepared." An unspoken "I hope" lingered in the air.

***

The flying car Doom XF-1003, a product of Latverian engineering and pure Doom genius, skimmed above the tall trees of Africa. It combined the sleek curves of modern design with a simple blocky, utilitarian feel. The anti-gravity units were fixed to the bottom of the craft like wheels, while rear and side stabilizers and thrusters melded seamlessly into the car's body. It had three rows of seats, in the fashion of a minivan, that held the four members of the Doom Patrol. The rear seat held Gorilla Grodd, the telepathic ape and scientific colleague of Dr. Doom. His bulky frame took up the entire couch-length. Seated in front of him, sprawled out in a reclining form, was the green-armored, golden-haired body of the Enchantress, the resident mystic of the group. The pilot of the car, dressed in a three-piece Versacce suit, pushed the car to its limits. He had grown up with the crime families of Sicily and a love of fast cars. Few of his former friends would ever get the chance to drive anything like this. He loved fast women, too, but those had been a pleasure denied him ever since his strange powers had surfaced. He risked a backward glance at the Enchantress. Her armor was mystic in nature, protecting her while doing little to actually cover her body. Jackie Estacado, the Darkness, sighed and turned back to the sky in front of him. The man did not glance back. He studied the monitors in front of him. Dr. Doom, green-garbed and clad in steel-gray armor, was glued to the computer screens. He was well aware of the dangerous area they were travelling in.

"ETA to Gorilla City five minutes, boss," grinned Jackie.

"Just be careful of the Wakandan jets and Gorilla skysleds."

"No prob. This stealth tech we got on this baby is great. We've avoided every patrol so far right?"

An energy surge lit up the monitors. Doom started to shout, "Beware! Evasive --!"

Doom didn't get the opportunity to finish his exclamation. A dark blast of crackling energy flared through the canopy below and struck the car dead center, killing the stealth field and leaving them visibly vulnerable in the air. The titanium shell of the car buckled, but held, barely. Grodd reached back and grabbed jetpacks from the storage compartment behind him. The Enchantress began chanting and tracing runes in the air with utter detachment from the chaos enveloping her. Jackie struggled with the controls, fighting to stay aloft. Doom scanned the treetops below, fixing on a target.

"We're losing altitude, boss! Guidance system is shot!"

A second blast struck, and the thrusters in the rear exploded, showering the forest below with fuel and fire. The car tore in half, bits of flaming and twisted metal screaming to the earth below. Black smoke from the fuel trailed away and obscured the sky.

Far beneath, in the bows of a huge, vine-covered tree, two figures surveyed the catastrophe in the sky. One held an expensive set of binoculars. The other had a bionic eye that flashed with use as it scanned the sky in a multitude of spectrums.

The one with the binoculars, a young, brown-skinned man turned to the other, a battle-scarred veteran with an extreme widow's peak and gray hair. In a Brazilian accent he asked, "Think that was enough?"

The veteran shook his head.

"No. That was Doom Patrol for certain. It will take much more than that. But at least their transportation is shot to hell. Better scatter them, make them less effective." He clicked a red button on his headset. "Siryn."

"Ready."

"Go. Shake things up out there."

"Roger."

***

A glittering, translucent purple bubble floated on the winds. Suspended within were the four former occupants of the flying car. They floated in mid-air, still sorting out what had happened while the magic of the Enchantress guarded them. Grodd quickly finished securing the straps of his custom jetpack, while Jackie secured his smaller one, fumbling with the buckles and straps. Doom would be able to hold himself aloft with his boot jets once the spell ended.

Before Doom could issue any orders, a high scream echoed through the sky, a sonic blast the mystic's spell had not been prepared to counter. She screamed, as did Jackie and Grodd. Doom's helmet instantly dampened the sound, but the damage was done. The Enchantress' concentration was shattered and the spell fizzled, the bubble popping out of existence. Her ears bled as she plummeted. Jackie and Grodd went into freefall.

Doom knew the other two would activate their jets soon enough, so he poured all his suit's power into his thrusters and rocketed after the falling body of the Enchantress. She had planned on flying through her magic, but the powerful wail had disrupted her concentration. He knew she was far tougher than most mortals, but feared such a fall would push her body to its limits.

Grodd fired his jets and threw his mind out quickly to get his bearings. An attacker in the air. Two more on the ground nearby. Five others spreading out below. Another... not human, not animal... The mystery didn't hold him long before another sonic attack ripped through the air around him and punished his tough simian hide.

"SHUT UP!" he roared, both physically and mentally. The scream stopped, but the damage was done. Grodd could hardly hear anything, but the lurching of his jet pack as it struggled to stay aloft was evidence that the attack had reached a point powerful enough to impact the machinery strapped to his broad back. He broke contact with the mind of his attacker and concentrated on maneuvering his pack to safe ground below.

Siryn plummeted several stories after Grodd's mental retaliation, her green and yellow costume a blur. When his attack stopped, she quickly found her voice again and swooped just inches above a rocky outcropping of the mountainside. She praised God the rest of her hadn't turned as red as her hair.

***

Doom pushed himself hard. His jets roared in protest. His armor groaned under the gravity pressure he was putting it through, the friction he was forcing it to endure. It wasn't enough. He wasn't fast enough.

The Enchantress broke through thousands of branches on her way down though the forest before finally hitting the ground at terminal velocity. A normal person would have been powdered, if they had survived being torn limb from limb by the fall through the ragged branches above. But the Enchantress, lying in a crater of soft earth that scorched the bedrock underneath, was relatively unharmed.

When Doom found her a few moments later, he was amazed at how little she was visibly injured, no scrapes. He ran a hasty diagnostic on her, letting his the sensors in his mask scan her. He found no broken bones or internal injuries. He finally breathed. She had a few light bruises and a possible concussion, but thankfully that was all. She was truly steel-skinned. He sighed, something he would never admit later. H would never admit how scared he had been, helplessly watching her fall thousands of feet.

His proximity sensors beeped urgently. A fast moving object was approaching was streaking towards him in an aggressive trajectory. A sonic boom proceeded the impact, giving Doom just enough time to turn around and see a blue and red blur plowing into him. His force-field reacted instantly to the threat, saving his life and absorbing most of the blow before overloading. But the light in his eyes were still darkened by the awesome force of the slam. Trees and dirt flew everywhere. A giant red "S" filled his vision as he faded into blackness.

***

Jackie ran. His breath came in ragged gasps as he struggled over the terrain. To his right, a steep cliff plunged hundreds of feet to the river cutting its way through the jungle, and to his left, the sheer side of the mountain. He could hear the sounds of his pursuers fast approaching from behind. Wakandan soldiers armed with high-tech weaponry and sophisticated sensor equipment doggedly followed his escape along the thin footpath that wound its way along the mountainside, squeezing off a few rounds of explosive ammunition whenever they caught a glimpse of their quarry.

His jetpack had suffered massive system failures from the last sonic attack he had taken, but Jackie had managed to maneuver himself safely to the ground. Unfortunately, it had proven to be dangerous ground. He had no idea where he was, much less the location of his companions, but he had discovered how close he was to a Wakandan observation post. Whether the hero or the soldiers had been more surprised was a concern for later debate. Much later debate. The awkwardness of the situation had given him a few precious seconds to get a head start running.

A darkness beckoned ahead. A small cave, carved into the mountainside by centuries of erosion from the waterfall above, was just around the bend. It was just in his view, but beyond that of his enemies. Jackie grinned. Now they would see why he was called the Darkness.

He ran into the dark cave, his eyes instantly changing to enhance his sight in the absence of light. A man in torn and soiled expensive clothing, looking dishelved and torn, ran through the mist obscuring the hole. Emerging on the other side was a commanding figure cloaked in supernatural armor. It flexed and twitched like a living skin, covering everything but his eyes and hair in ochre and sable tendons. In the shadows, he admired the long claws, sharper than the finest blades of Japan, that adorned his hands. Sound from the cave entrance caught his attention. Webbed, demonlike wings grew from his back with a thought. One sweep of the wings and he found himself perched on a ledge above the cavern floor, well out of sight of the opening to the outside world.

Small goblins emerged from the darkness around him, shadows he wore almost as tightly as the armor. They were a bewildering variety of shapes, but all of them were between two and three feet tall. They were dressed in a haphazard collection of hip-hop, Mafia threads, army helmets, flak jackets, and miniature trenchcoats. Several brandished guns, knives, or more outlandish tools of torture and bodily harm. They were his best friends, of a sort. They were the darkest parts of his soul, reflections of the life he had lived before Doom had taken him under his wing. He didn't dare let them out to play very often.

"Hey boss! Long time no see! Que paso?" A barrage of similar expressions assaulted Jackie's ears as his creations all gave their salutations.

He put a finger to his face, where his lips would be if the armor hadn't given him a secure faceplate below his eyes, in a motion of quiet. Then he pointed down into the cavern.

"Soldiers. Bad guys. Have some fun."

The voice wasn't really Jackie's. It was his voice warped and distorted into a gravelly resemblance of death warmed over, as one of the goblins had once described it. It was the voice of the Darkness, a deep and chilling bass. The Darkness was a living thing that inhabited Jackie, but he controlled. At least, he liked to think he did. It was in the blackness, away from natural light, that the Darkness could access its twisted powers of creation and its capacity as an engine of destruction.

The goblins all knew that voice. It was the Business Voice. The Darkness had summoned them to deal out death, and it meant serious business. Dozens of sharp, toothy grins filled their twisted faces. In the shadows only the Darkness could see them.

He extended his connection to the shadows around him to the cave's mouth, eavesdropping on the soldiers gathering and tuning out the ever-present waterfall. There was arguing.

"Well he couldn't have gone anywhere else! The trail ends in a three hundred foot drop just after this thing. Get your scared asses in their and get him!"

It was a woman's voice, high-pitched with something of a Californian accent, very Valley Girl. The commander of the men, or so the Darkness assumed, shot back something in a language he couldn't understand. Apparently, neither did she. She cut him off, "Enough of that damn gibberish! Just--"

A voice, muffled, cut into her tirade. The Darkness stretched his senses just a little farther but still couldn't decipher it, but the noise sounded electronic. A communications unit, he assumed. She was probably wearing some sort of head-set. He couldn't hear the voice on the other end, but he could get her reply.

"Big Blue took him down hardcore, huh? Wicked. Big Daddy Doom won't be getting up any time soon. And his slut? Sweet. Wish I could've seen the look on that witch's face before Blue downed her. Whazzat? Right. Focus. I got the playboy trapped in a cave, y'know the Italian Stallion? Shame I have to mess him up. If he's not too badly hamburgered when these dudes are done can I keep him? We can call up Jeanie and do a love-slave mindwipe... Huh? Yeah, he didn't look so tough. Idiot touched down right in front of us. Bet he pissed his pants. The file? 'Course I read it! Big deal, so he gets a little stronger in the darkness. I've got Wakanda's most dangerous with the finest guns. I gotta go take out the trash, Cable-baby. Talks to ya laterz. Huh? Oh, right. Over and out."

Finally. As Jackie, he had been with more women in his youth than he could count who could talk your ear off, but he guessed her metahuman ability was precisely that. Maybe it was Bad Grammar Girl? A chilling chuckle rumbled through the Darkness as he gleaned what information he could from the one-sided exchange. Doom and the Enchantress down. Cable... Darkness recognized that name. He was the leader of the terrorist band called X-Force, one of the many splinter cells of the X-Men. Must've been who shot us down, he reasoned. Made sense. Jackie had glanced at the monitor just enough after the first blast hit to see it had a definite bio-signature. Since Castle Doom had no files on Wakandan mutants, it made sense they'd hire outside muscle like X-Force. But who was Big Blue?

He felt movement out in the darkness and refrained from analyzing his information any further. It was time for action.

The soldiers made their way carefully through the darkness. There were ten, fanned out in a diamond shape as they canvassed the cavern. They had flashlights mounted on their gun barrels and helmets, illuminating the cavern and causing its shadows to reach epic proportions in relation to the stalactites and stalagmites that littered the floor and ceiling. Their boots splashed in the thin stream that wound its way deeper into the tunnels beyond. A few of the more intelligent men waved their gun muzzles in the air to check out the stone above as well, but the Darkness was no where to be seen. He wouldn't allow himself to be seen until it was too late.

The woman, a slip of a girl decked out in a garish pink and yellow jumpsuit, walked in their midst at the center of the diamond. She was a bleached blonde with short hair and an athletic if soft build. The name "Meltdown" was stenciled and sewn onto the leg of her suit vertically. She had no weapons, but kept her wrists up in an aggressive posture, pointing them like guns. Some kind of projectile ability, the Darkness decided, filing that information away. She was calm and collected, but the air of arrogance remained in her grimace of disdain.

"This is so gross. I hate caves. Ick." She blew a bubble of gum and popped it. The soldiers tensed and then relaxed, most of them scowling back at her.

In that moment of distraction destruction was unleashed. The goblins sprang from the darkness, falling upon the men like a rabid pack of jackals. Blades and bullets ripped into them from all directions. Some of the Wakandans gave as good as they got, but most simply fell in a shower of blood, pint-sized gremlins holding aloft various body parts as grisly trophies. In the midst of the carnage, covered in the blood as he took care of any man unfortunate enough to get in his way, strode the Darkness. His training as a cold killer took over his mind, allowing no distraction as he made his way towards her.

Meltdown fired off one blast after another, her time-bombs of plasma channeled and amplified through her futuristic wrist bands. Little green goblin bits clouded the air as often as black soldier bits did, and there were red bits everywhere. She was panicking. Good, thought the Darkness.

He walked right up behind her. He reached across with one claw and tapped her gently with one claw. She suddenly experienced a very frightening sensation. It was a moment when you know that Death is breathing right down your neck. Everything stops, just for a moment. Time vanishes. But maybe, just maybe, if you don't turn around, if you ignore that creeping feeling of impending doom, it will pass.

But you can't, and it won't.

Meltdown tried to twist herself around fast enough to throw her opponent off, but to no avail. She may have lived on the street once, but Jackie had grown up with killers and vendettas. And the Darkness? The Darkness was something else entirely. His reactions were quicker, almost as if she were in slow motion. He could clearly see the move she was trying to make, her wrist coming around and already glowing with energy, striving to escape its confines and explode into life. With his right hand he grabbed her wrist and crushed the metal encircling it, trapping the energy in a malfunctioning feedback loop, then quickly slid his hand down to her biceps, out of harm's way but still holding her fast. Her left hand vanished in a flash of brilliant white light, sizzling flesh, and shrapnel, which bounced harmlessly off his armor.

Her mouth was open in a soundless scream of agony and terror. Perhaps there was a sound, a terrible wailing that even banshees, or at least Siryn, would respect. The Darkness could only hear the blood pounding in his head and the thundering sound of his heart beating. The thrill of the kill, the feel of blood on his metal skin enveloped him. Meltdown's eyes finally rolled back into her head and she passed out.

The Darkness contemplated her fate, caressing her jaw with a claw. His goblins gathered around, egging him on to finish it, to finish her. Cheering, howls, and catcalls echoed beneath the mountain. some of the goblins began drumming on the helmets of the fallen soldiers, using their remains as makeshift drumsticks.

Deep inside, Jackie was disgusted, both with himself and the goblins. Before, it had been do or die. Now?

What would Doom do? As soon as he asked it, Jackie knew it was a dodge. If Doom had taught him anything, he had to ask an even more important question.

What would Jackie Estacado do?

***

Two miles away, Cable assembled his remaining operatives at their base camp. It wasn't far from the command and control unit of General Jarkanga, but far enough that the foreigners, mostly Americans, wouldn't clash with the local Wakandans. Particularly worrisome was the impact their presence would have on the superstitious tribal conscripts Wakanda drafted from the thousands of rustic villages that filled its wilderness. They came from the world outside of Central Wakanda, the metropolis of technology and civilization that was far beyond even the acclaimed Western democracies. The City Wakandans, as they thought of themselves were hardly superstitious, but tended to be as xenophobic as their so-called primitive cousins.

The gray-haired commander struck a match to light another cigar. Domino, his second-in-command and lover, sat to his right on a large flat rock, checking her weapon for the third time in an hour to make sure the jungle moisture hadn't affected anything. She had albino skin, like a marble statue, with a large black blotch on the left side of her face, around her eye. She scared the hell out of the tribal natives.

Sunspot, the mutant who had shot the Doom XF-1003 out of the air with his bio-energy, stood guard around the northern perimeter of the camp. Warpath, an insanely muscular Indian whose speed equaled his strength, watched the southern perimeter. Rictor, a young man who styled himself a master of vibrations and earthquakes, and Mirage, a young woman who shared Warpath's ancestry and enjoyed tormenting her victims with their worst fear, checked and rechecked their transportation aircraft and equipment in the same manner as Domino. The rest of the team was spread out in the nearby jungle forest, searching for the downed wreckage of the flying car and any survivors.

A sudden blast of wind heralded the arrival of Cable's newest ally, and also put out the match he was trying to ignite his cigar with. Big as life, clothed in a brilliant blue and caped in a vibrant red, levitated the Superman. A rakish grin was framed by a square chin and dark hair that the wind seemed incapable of affecting. But the eyes were hollow, filled only with a hunger. His ego was considered as vast as his power. Even Cable shuddered a little as he looked away and concentrated on finding another match to finish his task with. With a self-satisfied smirk, Superman tossed his cargo to the ground, unceremoniously dumping the damaged armor of Dr. Doom and the bruised body of the Enchantress to the jungle floor, before clapping the blood and dust off his hands and checking his manicure.

Cable scowled and lit another match. He applied it to the cigar and took a deep breath of the fine Cuban smoke. Arrogant son-of-a...

"That was far too easy!" grinned the Man of Steel. "Dr. Doom is usually so much more troubling."

"We," said an arriving Siryn, "softened him up a wee bit for ye. Kept him disoriented."

Superman eyed the mutant up and down. Her green and yellow costume contained such full hips and a pert chest. And that lovely, fiery Irish hair. Fiery. Yeah, he liked that...

"Lecher," sneered Siryn as she self-consciously wrapped up her attached cloak around her, trying vainly to protect her body from the gaze of a man with x-ray vision. She stomped past him, back to the hold of the cargo aircraft X-Force had arrived in.

Cable snapped his fingers to the side of Superman's head. "Over here, boy."

"She so wants me... Did you just called me 'boy'?" Superman grabbed Cable by the collar of his flak jacket and hoisted him into the air. "I fought the Allies in World War II. I have seen more than half a century pass on this pathetic mudball. I am not a boy, any more than you are, old man."

Domino instantly brought her rifle to bear, pointing it directly at Superman's temple. "Put the dear old blowhard down. Right. Now."

Superman didn't break eye contact with Cable as the two fought a bitter war of wills. "Why? Your puny gun can't do anything against my skin. I was going to treat you gently when I finish with this geezer, but I might have to make it unpleasant now. Tell me why I shouldn't just rip you both apart. Right. Now," he said with the same precise inflection she had used.

"Because, I'm known to get lucky. How do you know I don't have a kryptonium bullet readied in this chamber?" She cocked the gun again for effect.

"Because, Petey the Dog, it's not made of lead."

"Wager your eardrum is as invulnerable as your skin?"

"Wager you really can move faster than me?"

"Like I said, I am lucky."

The three stood there in stalemate, if it really could be called that. The other members of X-Force slowly took up strategic positions around the camp, waiting for a signal or a move on Superman's part, circling the triumvirate of egos.

A tremendous laugh burst forth from Superman. He tossed Cable back a few feet, but easily, so the old warrior had no trouble rolling with it and coming up in a crouch. Superman grabbed Domino with a free hand and spun her into his arms, stealing a deep kiss from the woman. She accepted it for a few seconds then began struggling, but he didn't yield. She lowered her rifle and fired. Smoke rose up from below his waist.

He broke the kiss and sighed. "Why do girls keep doing that?" He stepped back, his suit no longer covering him completely, but otherwise unharmed. "Oh yeah. Balls of Steel." He spun around, creating a small whirlwind in the clearing. When he stopped, his suit was whole. He shrugged. "Always carry a spare. Remember that, kids," he said to the others who were still poised to attack at a moment's notice.

"Stand down, X-Force," ordered Cable. "Are we through with the performance?"

Superman spread his arms wide in mock apology. "Allow a man a little fun and games, old man. I do love my line of work."

"Stow it."

"Fine." For the first time since his arrival, Superman allowed his feet to touch the ground. "So, who's left?" Warpath stepped forward cautiously to gather up the two bodies Superman had brought.

"Two. My men are in pursuit. Grodd is MIA so far, but Meltdown and a commando team of Wakandans have the Darkness cornered. My men have orders to kill any monkey they see. I may not get Grodd, but at least I'll get some nice ashtrays."

"Where did they corner the Darkness?"

"Some cave. Four clicks east."

"A cave you say. Pity." Superman shook his head. "She was cute."

Cable arched an eyebrow and his eye flashed.

Superman adjusted his cape and smoothed out his "S". "I've faced the Darkness before, I'll go help. No offense, big guy, but that Meltdown's kind of ditzy, isn't she? Great tits, no brains. Be back!" He lifted himself away from the earth with a mighty leap and soared away.

Cable didn't bother to defend Meltdown. Superman, that preening jackass, was right. She was ditzy.

***

Jackie fiddled with the controls on the radio. It was an advanced telecommunications console, but the commands were all designed in Wakandan, something Jackie had never thought he would need to learn. He spliced as many wires together as he could figure out to boost the signal by interfacing it with the remains of his damaged jetpack.

A light flickered across the screen and words appeared -- in English! It worked! The smart technology in the communicator devices secured in the jetpack had succeeded. The software and hardware had successfully integrated itself into the programming of the Wakandan machine. Virgin Mary bless you, Grodd! thought Jackie. The keyboard was still labeled in Wakandan, but Jackie managed to figure out which keys did what quickly enough through trial and error. Instead of Latveria, he contacted another organization first. It was time to bring in, as they say where his first call was to, the Big Dogs.

Jackie concluded his first conversation and began dialing Latveria. He glanced up and, through a window, spotted a blur just on the horizon. It was fast, cutting threw the air. He began to make out blue and red streaks...

Jackie froze.

Every oath and curse his parents had ever smacked him for, every bad word his priest had given out Hail Mary's for in his life, spilled out of his mouth in a torrent of obscenity. Not him, anybody but him. Jackie left the com-link open as he scrambled out of the small building, the observation post he had landed in front of earlier. Big Blue! Of course, but Jackie had been a little busy and forgotten all about that seemingly insignificant remark.

Got to get to the cave, he thought, where I'll be strongest. Virgin Mary, let them get here in time! He quickly recited a prayer to St. Jude as well, scrambling back down the trail he had traversed twice already today. He was painfully aware how exposed the bare mountainside made him feel.

Above, an old gypsy voice echoed through the outpost.

"Hello? Hello? Estacado, is that you?! Is this some stupid prank?! Doom ? Doom!!"

***

Thousands of miles away, in a penthouse high above Manhattan in New York City.

"Mr. Luthor, it's a communiqué from Africa. It's the Darkness. Doom Patrol."

Lex Luthor sat back in his plush leather chair and read the missive. His bodyguard and assistant, Mercy Graves, escorted the messenger to the humbling pair of huge doors and quietly closed them as the secretary left.

Luthor turned towards his guests. The Mandarin, a tall Chinese man dressed impeccably in a traditional Chinese coat embroidered with entwined yellow dragons and made of black silk, stroked one side of his slim mustache. His dark hair was slicked back and tied in a tasteful ponytail. Ten odd, unique rings glinted in the lights of Luthor's office, each affixed to on of the Mandarin's fingers.

The other was Thanos, a powerfully built alien with a ridged chin and purple skin. While physically strong and able to generate bolts of energy from his fists, his true talents lay in science and magic. He reclined on one of Luthor's luxurious leather couches, clad in an oversized pair of slacks and a T-shirt with the words "Born to Party" emblazoned on it, his shoeless feet propped up on one arm. He idly flipped through the channels on one of Luthor's twenty televisions, all laid out in along one wall as a wall of sight and sound. Thanos kept one permanently tuned to the Sci-Fi channel. He thought it was brilliant comedy.

Luthor laid the memo down on his sparsely populated desk.

"Doom has already made it into the heart of the activity. The Doom Patrol was shot down nearing Wakandan airspace. He and the Enchantress are suspected to have been captured. X-Force seems to be operating on the side of the Wakandans."

"What about the Darkness? Grodd?"

"Estacado has eluded his pursuers for now. Grodd's status is unknown, but presumed alive."

Thanos downed another Jolt cola and carefully placed it on the growing pyramid forming on the table behind his head. "That was fast," he said, gesturing to the screens. Except for the one he was flipping through and the one he kept on his favorite channel, they all displayed various news networks. "The Gorilla City - Wakanda conflict only became breaking news in the last five minutes."

"I'm sure Dr. Doom knew about it long before CNN did. Mandarin, gather the main team and put the reserves on stand-by. Thanos, Mr. Estacado is going to need an immediate extraction and we need first-hand information. Take a few League members and pull his fat out of the fryer, so to speak. Oh, and stop wearing T-shirts in my office, Thanos." Luthor smoothed his tie. "It's very unbecoming. Dismissed."

***

DISCLAIMER: I don't own a single one of these characters. They are owned by a lot of people (Like Marvel, DC, Top Cow, etc.) My intention is not to infringe copyright. I ain't making a dime, so go sue somebody else.