Three hours later.
At a military base located closest to Gotham.
Amanda stood on an elevated platform, narrowing her eyes as she looked down at the several hundred people who had just been unloaded from transport aircraft.
Men and women were mixed together, all dressed in orange prison uniforms marked with insignias from different correctional facilities. Every one of them carried a rebellious, feral expression.
Amanda didn't mind.
That was exactly how it should be.
Among them, the lightest sentence was life imprisonment. Most were death-row inmates or violent offenders—and some even possessed special abilities.
Surrounding the field were more than a thousand fully armed soldiers, weapons raised, safeties off, eyes locked onto the prisoners.
Sixteen soldiers armed with anti-materiel sniper rifles were positioned at a distance, scopes trained on the crowd at all times.
At the outer perimeter, twelve armored Humvees mounted with heavy machine guns formed a tight ring, their barrels aimed squarely at the field.
Amanda stepped forward and clapped her hands to draw attention.
"From this moment on," she said loudly,
"you will obey my commands unconditionally. If I tell you to go east, you do not go west."
"Why the hell should we?!"
Several troublemakers shouted before she could finish.
Amanda didn't get angry.
She snapped her fingers.
Bang—bang—bang!
Several heads exploded like watermelons.
Blood and fragments sprayed across the faces and bodies of nearby inmates, instantly freezing the entire crowd in shock.
Soldiers quickly moved in, dragging away the headless corpses and leaving behind pools of horrifying bloodstains.
"I've implanted a miniature bomb in every one of your heads," Amanda continued calmly.
"If I'm unhappy—boom, your head explodes."
"If you try to remove it—boom, same result."
She mimed an explosion with her hand.
"So you'd better listen carefully."
"And don't get any ideas about killing me to escape control," she sneered.
"The moment my heart or brain activity stops, every single one of your bombs detonates."
"We all go together."
"So," she asked lightly,
"can we communicate properly now?"
No one spoke. Every prisoner stared at her in silence.
"Good," Amanda said with satisfaction.
"Colonel Victor, you may have your men stand down."
"But your safety—" Victor hesitated.
"Relax, Colonel," Amanda smiled.
"If anyone tries to kill me now, these people will stop them faster than your soldiers ever could."
Victor realized the logic immediately and nodded, signaling his troops to lower their weapons.
Amanda turned back to the prisoners.
"I won't hide anything from you. Your mission is to go to Gotham, stop the Atlanteans, and defend the country beneath your feet."
The group exchanged looks, shock visible in their eyes.
Someone raised a hand.
"Speak," Amanda said, pleased by the sudden politeness.
"I know I'm crazy," the man said bluntly,
"but sending us to fight those sea monsters is basically sending us to die, isn't it?"
"We're well aware of that," Amanda replied coldly.
"That's why you'll be equipped with powerful weapons. Otherwise, sending you in would be less effective than firing an artillery shell."
As she spoke, several trucks drove into the base and parked neatly on the field.
Their cargo compartments unfolded and transformed, revealing fully equipped mobile laboratories.
"Now," Amanda said,
"the researchers will demonstrate the equipment they've developed. If you're interested, you may apply."
"Choose carefully. If too many people apply for the same project, we'll select based on compatibility and ability."
"Once selected, you must fully cooperate with the researchers. You may propose modifications to enhance your combat effectiveness, and they'll do their best to accommodate you."
Looking at the ready scientists, Amanda issued her final instruction.
"Ladies and gentlemen, you may begin."
"You have thirty minutes. Don't waste my time—or yours."
The prisoners approached the trucks hesitantly. Soon, they were staring at tablets displaying the various experimental weapons and armor systems.
Before long, every face was filled with sh mock and disbelief.
---
Pennsylvania State Prison
Lucas's phone rang.
"Lucas, did a woman named Amanda Waller come to your place today?"
Nick Fury's voice came through the line.
"Yes," Lucas replied calmly.
"I sent her away."
Fury spoke rapidly.
"They're trying to activate a previously rejected program—recruiting death-row inmates and superpowered criminals from prisons."
"They implant bombs in their bodies and coerce them into using experimental weapons from major arms manufacturers."
"They plan to deploy them to the Gotham battlefield against the Atlanteans."
"I know," Lucas said evenly.
"So what are you getting at?"
Fury paused, surprised, then continued quickly.
"I'm forming a team to deal with special incidents—alien invasions, superhuman threats. It's called the Avengers."
"I'm calling to ask whether you'd be interested in joining."
Lucas answered without hesitation.
"No interest."
Fury didn't seem surprised.
"I expected that," he said naturally.
"I just wanted to let you know. If something truly catastrophic happens in the future, I hope you might lend the Avengers a hand."
Lucas smiled faintly.
"Depends on my mood."
"That's fair," Fury said.
"I won't disturb you further."
The call ended.
Beside him, Coulson asked,
"So? Did he agree?"
Fury shook his head.
"I didn't expect him to. I just tried the long shot."
"We proceed with the original plan—recruit our intended candidates and build the Avengers as quickly as possible."
Coulson nodded.
"I'll handle it."
After Coulson left, Fury frowned deeply.
"Damn it… the Helicarrier project is moving too slowly."
"These bugs are buried too deep."
"Looks like it's time to set a trap and dig out the root of the problem."
_____
T/N:
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