ARENA

CHAPTER ONE

I

Sometimes Guy Gardner wondered why he bothered teaching high school.

He certainly didn't need the money. In fact, thanks to his bar 'Warriors', Guy need never concern himself with being employed again. Even with mild competition from Booster's new Planet Krypton restaurant some blocks away, Warriors was still as popular as ever. It was seldom in the red and always yielded a tidy profit. The financial security afforded by the bar had given Guy to pursue his need for adventures without the vulgar concerns of money. Which was indeed fortunate because his times were occupied much of late, what with keeping company with Buck Wargo and then playing leader to the Crusaders.

It was just that in between all the extraordinary events that seemed to make his life one long roller coaster ride, there appeared to be more quiet moments that he would care to admit. Unlike the rest of the Crusaders whose private lives seemed to require much attention, Guy did not have that concern. When he was a Green Lantern, Guy had believed it to be a full time occupation and discarded any need for a secret identity. However things had changed and he was no longer the Green Lantern of Sector 2814. His playground that had once been a large chunk of space had dwindled significantly and kept him bound to one planet.

Guy didn't mind not being a Green Lantern any more because the kid who now wore the emerald ring was doing okay by Guy's standards. It was just that he did not know what it was to have a private life after so many years of not requiring one. The rest of the Crusaders had no difficulty adjusting to being civilians when there were no replicants and errant mystical entities to fight. Beatriz De Costa when she was not the super heroine Fire, was the Revson girl. Her modelling career took her across the world and although Guy missed her when she was gone, he was proud of her success. Besides, he had to confess that there was nothing like walking into a room with her at his arm and seeing man in the room turn green with envy.

Hey, he hadn't changed that much.

Ted Kord, who was once the unluckiest of them all, had appeared to change his fortune. Ted was now CEO of Lightspeed Entertainment, a software company that he had carefully nursed into a multi-million dollar giant. Although Ted remained a partner with Booster, he had been left in charge when Booster had gone off to pursue other projects. Not that Ted appeared to be too heartbroken now that he was involved with a certain raven-haired beauty with eyes older than world. Guy was actually surprised that Zatanna Zatara would actually give Ted the time of day. They seemed so unlikely and yet it worked beautifully. Guy supposed he should be the last one to judge unlikely relationships. No one had believed he and Tora would last either, but it had. In any case, Guy was glad that between the two of them, at least Zatanna had the mindset of someone older than ten.

Ted was crazy at the best of times.

Since the conclusion of its first mission, less than a month ago, the Crusaders had been playing it low key. Despite the camaraderie of being a team again, its members had to be realistic. Their time in the League had come to an unceremonious end because they allowed their personal lives to intrude on the work. Guy did not want to see the Crusaders end that way. Thus, at one of the meetings, it was decided that all of them should spend adequate time keeping their private lives in order. In the old days when they were still Leaguers, Maxwell Lord had taken care of everything. He paid their bills, put a roof over their heads and kept the mediocrity of everyday life from ever intruding into their heroic existence. While it was nice to be taken care of like that, it tended to make them complacent.

When the League collapsed, they realised just how much Max had taken care of and for many of them, the lesson learnt had began with a steep descent into despair. Guy himself, had undergone changes that opened him up inside and made him evaluate the future and his part in it. Even without Tora. He realised then that more than anything, he loved being a hero. It surprised him even more to realise that his love for it had nothing to do with and glory or the fame.

Once upon a time, the glamour of it had been everything to him but not any more. During the months following the loss of the ring that made him a Green Lantern and before he discovered his Vuldarian heritage, Guy did a great deal of soul searching. He remembered what it was like to be weak. Guy remembered how it felt being bullied by someone stronger just because he was too weak to stop them. Those years had made him stronger as an adult and set out the path for the rest of his life. Just like General Glory, he would fight for those who could not. He would offer the hand that had been denied to him.

Why?

Because he could.

It was shortly after the formation of the Crusaders that Guy decided to return to teaching full time. To be truthful, he had been teaching before the formation of the group but only as a substitute teacher in the tougher neighbourhoods of New York. His presence had been mostly as a security measure, rather than a concerted effort at actually teaching students. When a position was offered to him to teach social studies at one of the high schools in Brooklyn, Guy had found himself accepting without question.

Wargo and the others had thought he was crazy. However, their reaction only served to convince him that he was doing the right thing. Beatriz thought it was a great idea and Guy had gone to his first day feeling pretty good about his decision.

Okay, reality seeped in eventually. It did not take long before he realised just how much work lay before him. Washington High was a typical of any school far removed from the excesses of Manhattan Island. Here, the people lived on welfare, were mostly blue-collar workers and were completely aware that the deck was stacked against them the moment they found themselves on the other side of the Brooklyn Bridge.

The kids, whose education was his responsibility, were a monument to the illusion of the American Dream. They were second generation immigrants, whose parents had come here hoping for something better and finding that the streets of America were not paved with gold. Far from it actually. The streets they knew, were paved in the white certainty of Crack, gang violence and a growing underclass that were beaten even before they began. It was enough to make a superhero feel like a complete failure.

He walked into the school hoping to teach and finding most of his students, looking at him with a mixture of indifference and downright contempt. They knew who he was of course. It was probably the only thing that kept him from getting a knife in the throat by some of the students wearing gang colours. Guy was determined not to give up. He had fought creatures none of these kids could even begin to comprehend and one thing they learnt quickly, Guy Gardner did not scare easily.

For weeks, he stood in front of a classroom full of kids who saw him as the enemy, a defender of the status quo of which they were the most exploited. They baited him, insulted him, at some point even tried to attack him but Guy stood firm. He had the blood of the most fearsome race to ever emerge from the cosmic byre, running through his veins and he did not intend to let a bunch of teenagers' get to him. Not that they did not come awfully close at times.

An amazing thing happened after a few weeks though. Guy was so surprised that when it finally happened, he did not know what to think. He actually thought it might have been a trick. They began to acknowledge him. Slowly but surely, whether it was his perseverance or sheer stubborn stupidity that impressed them, Guy could not be certain. However, they allowed him the chance to prove that he was more than just a superhero.

They took him at his word.

**********

For Guy Gardner, speed was relative.

After he had seen the Flash run a mile in less time than it took to bat of an eye, everything else seemed to crawl at a snail's pace. A great deal of his perceptions fell into the context of meta-human world. He ran with an extraordinary crowd and normal standards seemed outdated and lacking any ability to surprise. Thus when he had taken over the job as coach of the athletic team, he was rather dubious that he could objective when viewing the potential of normal human beings compared to his meta-human colleagues.

The first time he saw Kevin Sharp run, all doubts left Guy's mind.

The boy was a bona fide sprinter. He moved through the wind with so much ease, Guy was almost tempted to believe that he was meta-human. In his youth, Guy had played college football and he could tell the difference between a flash in the pan and a genuine prodigy. Kevin Sharp was the latter. He worked hard to be the best and Guy was able to see a future for the boy that did not involve gangs or drugs.

"That's the best time yet." Guy said as he studied the stopwatch in his palm.

Kevin was breathing hard, rivulets of sweat glistening off his ebony skin. He walked across the rubber surface of the track towards Guy who was waiting from him on the grass. The State Athletic trials were only weeks away and Guy truly believed Kevin had the talent to win it. The opportunity to the boy's future could not be underestimated and Kevin too much potential to waste. Winning the trial could get him an athletic scholarship and Guy did not intend to let him lose that chance.

"You really think I got a shot at this?" Kevin looked at him sceptically.

"I wouldn't waste my time other wise." Guy said slipping the stopwatch into the pocket of his track pants.

"Yeah, big time superhero and all." Kevin grinned.

"Better believe it." Guy retorted. "Look, you got the speed and you got the drive. I think you can go all the way, provided you work at it."

Kevin sighed and dropped to the ground. Guy wondered if he was ever filled with so much doubt when he was seventeen. Of course he was, all seventeen-year-olds were. He admired Kevin a great deal, to grow up in a neighbourhood like this; free of all the dangers that had trapped lesser wills. Kevin was one of the few who struggled to be free of the ghetto, who saw an education as an asset not a waste of time. The boy did not even realise his potential until Guy had seen him run the first time. He was a natural athlete and given the right guidance, he could be a world class one.

"What's the problem kid?" Guy asked planting himself into the soft grass next to him. Beyond the horizon of the sport field bleachers, the sun was beginning to set. It was hard to imagine that a harsh world existed outside this place with its bright uniforms and youthful voices. There were still other kids on the field, some engaged in football practice and other team sports. Guy wondered if all of them had Kevin's reservations. God, he hoped not.

"I'm thinking whether its worth it." He looked at Guy directly.

"I've been where you are kid," Guy said honestly. "It is worth it."

"College is four years of my life," Kevin pointed out. "I can't expect my momma to take care of my brothers and sisters on her own. I should be helping her out."

Guy knew something of Kevin's situation at home. His mother had lost her husband years ago and had been raising four children on her own. Over the last month, Guy noticed that Kevin's lunches were made and although they were anything but fancy, had the undeniable traces of a mother's touch. This was a woman who cared how her boy ate and from what Guy had been told, actually made appearances at what passed for the PTA in these parts. So with a certain amount of confidence, he knew the lady well enough to be able to speak in her place.

"I think your mother would prefer it if you got that scholarship." Guy replied. "Your mom is a pretty tough lady, I think she wants the best for you."

Unfortunately, Kevin did not seem convinced. "I wish I could help her out."

Even though it sounded cliché, the best advice Guy could give him was the one Kevin was already aware of. "You know how to do that already Kevin. Give her something to be proud of."

Kevin smiled faintly and rose to his feet. In the distance, the sun was gradually disappearing from the afternoon sky. "I better get going. I got stuff to do."

"Try not to party too hard," Guy retorted knowing that was the furthest thing from Kevin's mind. Being the oldest child in the family, his responsibilities to extend to the younger siblings he was charged to look after during his mother's absence.

"Sure coach," Kevin said picking up his sports bag, before continuing to on to the locker room.

Guy watched him go, wishing that it was not necessary to simply accept the way things were. Kids like Kevin deserved a chance at being more than just a statistic. He could sense the boy's concern regarding the merits of a college education compared to what a paying job could mean to his family. He would speak to Wargo and see if they needed another hand at Warriors or perhaps Booster needed another waiter at his restaurant. In any case, Guy had better find a solution to Kevin's problem soon, before the lure of quick money ruined him forever.

II

A college education was not something Kevin Sharpe had ever considered within the realm of possibility. His ambitions had never expanded beyond the desire for a high school diploma to get him the job that would help ease the burden on his mother. Kevin had never been interested in drugs and the gangs because he had seen what both had done to his father. Last Kevin had heard of the senior Mr Sharpe, he had been doing time. No surprises there. Still, he was determined not to go down that road because he could not bear to see the look in his mother's face if she ever knew.

Instead, he tried to do what the coach had encouraged him to do. To work hard at school and never give her a day's grief. If that meant being called a coward because he refused to carry a gun or sell crack, so be it. The fools who did that were on a one way ticket to a quick death any way. Still, he could not ignore them with their fancy cars and the wads of cash they stuck in their pockets with bejewelled hands.

But the money was nevertheless tempting.

Kevin walked along the grimy sidewalk, trying not to hate everything that this neighbourhood represented. Was it a pipe dream, hoping to get out of here? At times, he truly did not know for he was seventeen years old and the world had already disillusioned him. Everything here was grey, the low rent tenement buildings, and the wooden houses that were far away from being dilapidated. He stared at the faces during his journey and saw that they too were grey, trapped in amber as he was.

Kevin was lost in thought and regret for his existence and completely unaware that he had been followed since he had left school ten minutes ago. He turned around the corner that would take him to the cul-de-sac where a beaten weatherboard house waited for his return. The sun was almost completely set and he knew it was probably best to get inside before the darkness enveloped the neighbourhood completely. This was not a safe place to be at night.

The lights of his house appeared over the crest of the hill when he heard his name being called behind him. The voice was familiar and so there was no reason to be alarmed. Kevin paused and looked over his shoulder.

"Hiya doing Hex." Kevin greeted one of the few people he called friends.

Hex was very much into the game but Kevin did not care because Hex understood him. They had been friends for as long as Kevin had lived here and even though Hex wore vibrant gang colours that had never intruded on their friendship.

"Man you walk fast." Hex retorted as he reached Kevin. Hex had dropped out of school when he was sixteen and had gone to work for the gangs. His clothes were designer labels and the bulge under his coat told Kevin he was packing heat. Kevin tried to ignore such observations because it was not his place to judge Hex and the life he had chosen to lead. Just as Hex did not judge him for his own convictions. "I've been trying to catch up with you."

"What's up man?" Kevin asked, since it appeared that Hex was after him for a reason.

"Listen I know you hate selling and all that stuff but I got a business proposition for you." Hex said leaning close.

Immediately, Kevin stiffened, disliking where this conversation was going. Hex noticed his reaction and quickly responded. "It ain't nothing like that man." He declared somewhat wounded. "But it is sweet and right up your alley."

Kevin let out a sigh but was still unprepared to completely trust Hex just yet. However, he was not averse to hearing Hex out. "Talk to me."

"You're an athlete right?" Hex said wearing a broad smile. For a moment, he reminded Kevin of one of those used car salesman on late night television. "While I know some action that you might be interested in. Some high roller is looking for strong, healthy types for these private games he's got going. Its nothing illegal and I hear the money is really good. You interested?"

Kevin was interested but was unwilling to commit himself until he knew more. If there was one thing he had faith in, it was his athletic ability. If he could use it to make some quick money that was not illegal, what was the harm? He would be helping his momma and he would not be getting into any trouble that would affect his chances of a scholarship.

"Okay," Kevin said firmly. "Tell me more."

*********

His time had finally come again.

How long had it been? The years had moved past so quickly, hiding the shadows of his defeat with the ravages of time. He remembered those left behind, who had not survived the war and each memory stabbed at the core of him, rekindling waves of hate at those who caused his fall. For a long time after the end, he was tempted to disappear into the security of anonymity, to forget the dream that destroyed the others.

But it would not disappear.

It stayed in the mind as the Furies had once pursued Orestes across the world. Every moment served to remind him that those who had caused the Fall were now glorified as none before while his and those who followed him were vilified as freaks of nature. It enraged all that was strong and proud within him until there was no recourse but to stand up and remind the world of who he was and what he had demanded to be.

However, he would not make the mistakes of the past. He would remain hidden in the shadows like the predator he was. He would make them love him and be willing to die for him. This time, his weapons would not be savagery or fear, although they would always know it was never best to incur his anger. No, this time he would play the game wisely. His enemies still existed and when he was strong, there would be plenty of time for revenge.

For the moment, there was much to occupy his time. Those who become part of his army would first have to survive the test of blood. Weaklings had led to his downfall. This time he would cull such influences before they were given leave to cause him any harm. He had to harden his own resolve as well because once it was faith in another that had been his undoing. There would be no one before him and she who would serve to try, would find herself ripped to shreds.

There was no greater betrayal than she who was called woman.

He had learnt that lesson all too late. She burned in his memory, she whom he wanted to make queen to his king. He had found her, even though she had tried to hide in the aftermath of what happened. Almost dead and greatly wounded, he had crawled through the agony of defeat and found her. It was with great relish that he tore her limb from limb and that feasted on her flesh as a final reminder to himself of her terrible sin.

They say revenge is hollow. They were wrong.

She was but the first, in time there would be others.

When he struck, it would not be at a name. He remembered the faces well. Each burned into his memory like the pain they had inflicted upon him. All of them, supposedly perfect specimens of man. An evolution of god and human. They had the audacity to mock his godhood and call him a monster. He had looked into the mirror a thousand times and knew that they had lied. In their eyes, he had seen envy because he evolved beyond egg sucking primates into a higher order of being.

He understood now why they had sought to destroy him, because he would make them all obsolete. He would not kill them, not all. In fact, what would make his eventual revenge so deliciously sweet would be how he dispensed justice for his fallen children. He would give them the secret of his godhood and empower them with a new existence they never imagined possible. They would be in striking distance of perfection.

Before he put the chains around their throats and damn them to eternal slavery at his feet.

Yes, he would enjoy that a great deal.

CHAPTER TWO

I

Guy walked into his social studies class, hoping for the best. As he entered, he saw a sea of familiar faces behind the steel desks in the room. His eye moved across their faces, knowing that the one he sought was not here but was nonetheless compelled to look. They came from a variety of ethnic backgrounds, his students, Latino, Asian, African American and Caucasian. Some appeared indifferent to his presence, others looked at him with expectation and then there were those who glared at him with unconcealed hatred. Guy had come to expect that after a month here. These were the forgotten youth of America, forced to carve their future in this wasteland of public education. Schools in these neighbourhoods were under funded, with textbooks older than they were and equipment that could rarely be replaced when damaged.

After a moment, he had to conclude reluctantly that his hope had been in vain. Among the minds that he had attempted to reach, Kevin Sharpe had offered the most encouragement and he was not here. In fact, Kevin had not been to school for the past week. With each day, Guy's concern started to expand beyond the boundaries of the normal teacher student relationship. This was not a boy prone to take such indulgences with his academic career, such as it was in a place like this. According to the rest of the faculty, Kevin was a good student with an exemplary attendance record in comparison to most.

If he was not here, it was for a good reason.

Guy reached for the book on his table and opened it without really reading any of the pages or aware of what topic he had intended to cover today. His mind was still wrapped around the subject of Kevin's absence. The inner instinct that kept him alive in so many battles had started to sing its siren song of warning in the back of his mind. He looked to the back of the room, where a young Latino girl was in the midst of a quiet conversation with her boyfriend who sat at the next desk.

"Hey Theresa," Guy called out. "You live near Kevin, don't you?"

Theresa was one of his less hostile students. She was a pretty thing, an active participant in class room discussions and one of the few that might make it out of this neighbourhood if she did not get pregnant first.

"Yeah Mr Gardner," she replied, her voice thick and accented but possessing a melodic quality to it. "He lives around the corner from me."

"Do you know where's he's been all week?" Guy inquired, trying not to sound meddlesome but unable to hide his concern to the those in the room.

"What you worried about your boy?" Someone in the room sneered. The remarked provoked a short rumble of laughter from the back section of the room.

Guy did not have to see whom it was to know who had spoken. The boy sat right at the back of the room and was surrounded by the members of his gang. They were a variation of Puerto Rican and Latino, who had made their contempt at his presence known, almost immediately after he started teaching this class. The leader, a fearsome looking kid named Alvarez, ruled the senior class with his collection of switch blades and worse once he was outside the school. Guy had earned his enmity because Alvarez could rile him.

Guy gave Alvarez a look that translated pure ice and silenced the punk from speaking any further. Alvarez shifted uncomfortably in his seat before letting loose a series of expletives under his breath. Guy returned his attention to Theresa. "So have you seen Kevin around?"

"No Mr Gardner," she said casting an apprehensive glance at Alvarez who might take exception to her if she chose to answer him. "I haven't seen him at all."

Guy let out a sigh, realising that he should not have expected any better from them. He did not blame Theresa because he understood the rules of her world. She had to live among people like Alvarez and Guy could not blame her for wanting to stay out of trouble. This was no school yard bully she had to deal with. Alvarez would have little conscience over killing her if he felt she had somehow crossed him.

"Thanks anyway." He answered before turning his attention back to the book in his hand. "Okay, let's talk about what's going on in Washington today."

**********

He knew he was letting himself get too involved but Guy could not help it. For the first time in many years, something other than fighting alien threats and mystical monsters had made him believed he was capable of making a difference. When he had returned to teaching, Guy had promised himself that there would be no half measures on his part. He was not going to be one of those teachers who claimed that things are the way they are and he should not be responsible in raising any false hopes. Kevin was not a false hope. He was a good kid and someone had to give a damn.

He stepped out of his car and looked at the weatherboard house the Sharpe family called their own. It was old and it was far from being a mansion but there were signs that it was frequently painted and the small patch of green that passed for a yard, was well tended. Guy walked through the rusting front gate and noticed a child's red wagon parked in the middle of a sand box. He could hear voices of children behind the front door.

Guy stepped onto the front porch and heard the wood creak underfoot. Knocking on the front door, he waited for a moment before it swung open. The woman who emerged before him was in her late thirties but could have been older. She was a handsome woman was but time and worry had left their marks on her lined face. Guy could see Kevin in her face, mostly around the eyes and lips. He could also see the redness in those eyes that indicated she was emotionally wrought even if she tried to hide it with as much dignity as she could muster. Her face softened upon him seeing however, probably because she recognised who he was.

"Mrs Sharpe?" Guy asked politely.

A ten year old boy stuck his head from around the door way. "Momma, its him! Its Warrior!"

Guy shifted uncomfortably, wishing now he had that secret identity that he had so easily discarded years ago. He was here not as a former member of the Justice League or as a superhero but rather as Kevin Sharpe's school teacher. He wanted no more recognition beyond that.

"I've seen you on television." She declared.

"I'm still a nice guy." Guy replied and was pleased when she rewarded him with a faint smile. "Mrs Sharpe, I came to see Kevin."

Her eyes immediately dropped to her feet and from the sudden silence of the child next to her and her inability to meet his gaze, Guy immediately knew something was terribly wrong. "Please," he urged. "I'd like to help if I can."

She swallowed hard and looked up after a moment. "Please come in."

Guy followed her into the house and was shown into the living room. The boy kept staring at him wide eyed, despite the apparent crisis the family was facing. The house was modest and well kept. It was not at all lavish but Guy sensed the warmth here and knew Mrs Sharpe kept her family well. Now more than ever, he realised how lucky Kevin was and why he was so torn about making his mother work another four years to put him through college.

I should have listened more. Guy told himself. I should have come through for him before this.

"This is my son, David." Mrs Sharpe introduced the child. She rubbed his head affectionately as she did so.

"Do you really know Superman?" The boy asked trying to restrain his enthusiasm.

Figures, Guy thought silently. "Sure, the Big Blue and I see each other at every major crisis." He answered trying not to sound too sarcastic.

"Davey, why don't you go out back and keep an eye on Michael and Phoebe." Mrs Sharpe instructed, aware that their conversation should be held in private. Although the children were aware that Kevin was missing, Mrs Sharpe saw no reason to further add to their anxieties. The boy nodded quietly and plodded off towards the backdoor, through the kitchen. Guy had the impression that Mrs Sharpe was hiding nothing from him.

When they were alone, she made a few obligatory offers of coffee or refreshments. Guy accepted a glass of lemonade out of politeness. He could sense how worried she was and her concerns heightened his own. What the hell had happened to her oldest son? In this neighbourhood that question could have translated into anything but then the school would have been notified in the event of a death or even trouble with the law.

"I want to thank you for all the kindness you showed Kevin." She began slowly, her fingers were knotted hard on her lap. "You can't imagine what it was like for him, to have someone like you show an interest."

"He is a good kid." Guy said honestly touched by her words. In the world of superheroes, it was easy to forget how extraordinary a paranormal must seem to every day humans. "Mrs Sharpe, where is he?" He asked finally.

She took a deep breath. "He didn't come home from school on Friday. I haven't seen him more than a week. I've looked everywhere and I've called all his friends but they haven't seen him."

Her voice was starting to crack and Guy wished Beatriz was here, he was not good at being comforting. Kevin had been gone a week? He thought back to the Friday, which was incidentally, the last time Guy had seen Kevin. The boy had not confessed to having any special plans for the weekend. If he recalled correctly, Kevin had mentioned something about having stuff to do but Guy had naturally assumed he meant at home. "Have you gone to the police?"

"I did when I got home that night," she continued. "But they were no help. They told me they couldn't file a missing person's report until 48 hours after the disappearance. I couldn't wait 48 hours, I know my boy," she exclaimed desperately. "He wouldn't stay away like that unless something was wrong."

Guy did not have to hear the rest being able to visualise the full entirely of her meeting with the police. Kevin was after all, just another black kid, living in the slums. If he was missing, it was probably because he was shot up on crack or into something illegal. It was hardly worth the effort of the police to waste time searching for a kid who was mostly likely to show up as an offender.

"I believe you Mrs Sharpe." Guy declared because she needed to hear it. Her son was missing and instead of being aided by the local authorities who would bend over backwards, if the kid had been from Beverly Hills, she was treated like some overwrought nut. "Kevin wouldn't do anything illegal, he cares too much about you for that. If you let me, I'd like to try and find him. I can't let my star runner go astray can I?"

He managed to get a grateful smile out of her but neither voiced the reality of the situation. Kevin had been gone for a week already. If he had not returned home yet, chances were good it was probably because he could not. Under such circumstances, the possibilities of what might have happened to him narrowed to an unhappy conclusion.

Guy hoped it would not come to that.

II

"Sire, we have a problem."

Titus stood by the door. He would not enter the room unless his master had given him permission and his master had not. The great man sat behind his desk, his enormous hand drumming his thick fingers over the smooth surface of the fine oak desk. The Master often kept his room in the dark, for he liked the shadows and the security he afforded. Of course, Titus was not about to confess to knowing any of these things.

The master liked keeping his secrets.

"Be specific Titus." The Master said coolly. "The gift I have given you has allow your form to transcend the mundane but it did not destroy your ability to articulate."

Titus bowed in acknowledge neither injured nor angered by the insult. The Master was right of course, he always was. "Someone has been inquiring about one of our charges."

Through the darkness, he saw the Master's eyes flare with reddish light. "Police?"

"No," Titus shook his head. "Not the police."

"Then what concern are questions to us?" The Master retaliated. "Those who could answer them know better than to speak to strangers about our affairs. Have our lessons not be instructive?"

More than instructive, Titus wanted to say. He had seen the remains of those who had crossed the master and the thought of it sent shivers of ice down his spine. His master did not suffer betrayal well and those who were unfortunate enough to bear his wrath, had cause enough to regret it. "It would not normally have caused me concern, Sire, except the one asking the questions may be a danger to us."

"I waste no more time with this!" The Master bellowed. His voice was a loud roar that bounced across the walls and forced Titus back into the shadows. "You will speak clearly Titus."

Titus felt his heart pounding in his chest, almost afraid to tell his king what had been brought to his attention. Unfortunately, matters had progressed beyond his ability to make the decision on what was to be done about the situation. "I am sorry Sire," he said summoning up the courage to speak. He was privy to the violence the Master was capable of when he was enraged and Titus knew he had real reason to be afraid. "It is one of the superhumans."

The master's enormous fist curled into a bawl and he smashed his hand against the desk so hard, Titus actually saw the wood buckle underneath his flesh from the strain. "Which one?" The Master demanded, his voice nothing more than a low growl.

"It is the superhuman called Warrior." Titus answered.

"How did we overlook that?" The Master asked. "I had believed our charges were carefully screened."

"The superhuman is apparently a teacher at his school." Titus explained quickly. "Our agent was unaware of this when he inducted the boy."

"Has the boy undergone the process?" The master inquired with no trace of the former fury in his voice. Now he spoke as calmly as ever, filling Titus with confidence that he knew how to proceed. Titus chided himself in ever doubting that the Master could ever be outmanoeuvred. The Master was all things great. A true king.

"Yes," Titus answered. "Although he was unsuitable to be an Alpha, we had him placed in the Omega tanks. He was scheduled to be removed tomorrow."

"I see." The Master let out a sigh. "We cannot risk discovery now, not when we are closer than we have ever been. What do we know of this superhuman?"

Titus fumbled for the papers in his hands. Like all good aides, he had produced a full dossier on the superhuman known as Warrior to precipitate the master's question. Letting his eyes scan over the pages, he quickly picked out the relevant facts that would interest the master and neglected the trivialities.

"His real name is Guy Gardner and goes by the code name Warrior. According to the reports he is one of the metamorphae, apparently possessing the ability to morph into a variety of alien weaponry. He has been classified as a Level 8 superhuman, extremely formidable and highly aggressive."

"A metamorph." The master mused with uncharacteristic interest. "That might prove to be quite interesting." For a moment, the Master remained silent as he contemplated the next course of action. "Send a contingent of Alphas," he said after a few seconds. "I want this Warrior captured alive."

Titus blinked. "Alive, Sire? Is that wise?"

"I want him taken alive Titus, make that very clear to the Alphas. If the superhuman is harmed by any of them, it will be at my severest displeasure." His eyes seemed to glow even brighter as he said those words.

"Of course sire," Titus swallowed, knowing full well that it was not a threat to be taken lightly. "May I ask, what you intend to do with him once we have him?"

The master did not answer but through the darkness of the room, Titus saw a gleam of light bouncing through a smile of long sharp teeth.

**********

Guy Gardner was not happy.

He walked down the steps of the high school's main entrance feeling somewhat depressed. The lack of progress in his search for Kevin was difficult for him to accept. For the past two nights, he had been scouring the neighbourhood, shaking down every two bit hood that slimed across the streets of Kevin's world. He had come up with nothing. No one had even heard the name Kevin Sharpe and even less knew why he had suddenly fallen off the face of the planet.

The sun had disappeared behind the horizon of ugly, grey buildings hours ago and when Guy emerged into the school parking lot, his was the only car still parked there at this time of night. He supposed he should have known better than to leave a new model Cherokee Jeep in this neighbourhood and not expected it to be on blocks when he got back. Still, the vehicle survived intact to face the odds tomorrow. After a full day in a classroom and then spending the past two nights searching for Kevin, Guy was ready for an early night.

Still, he could shake the feeling that something terrible had happened to the boy, neither could he face the fact that perhaps he was too late to save Kevin already. Both conclusions left him helpless and impotent that he, Guy Gardner, Vuldarian champion, could do nothing to protect one young boy. The taste of defeat was something he could never stomach.

He reached the jeep and fumbled for the keys within the inside pocket of his jacket. Guy was considering the possibility of bringing Ted in on the search when he almost missed a flurry of movement behind him. If he was anything but a Vuldarian, he might have missed it. Immediately, all thoughts of Kevin evaporated from his mind as the alien seed inside Guy Gardner surfaced like a swamp alligator about to snap.

He continued the pretence of trying to open the car door as they approached. Through the reflection of the passenger window, he saw them moved towards him. There was a certain grace to their advance, a fluidity of movement much to smooth to be human. Guy remembered thinking that only Bats had the expertise to practise stealth with such efficiency. They narrowed the distance between themselves and the prey with little knowledge that Guy was ready for them.

Suddenly, the dead of the night was broken by the sound of glass breaking. It erupted in quick succession as Guy swung around. Darkness enveloped him before he realised that one of them had shot out the light globes in the lamp posts. He could not see which one. In the dark, they attacked. They leapt towards him like coiled springs. Guy had barely enough time to morph Vuldarian armour across his skin as the first attacker landed on him.

Guy fell against the windscreen with such force the glass shattered beneath him. He managed to throw the attacker off him before he was knocked off his feet by something that had the strength of a locomotive. Guy hit the pavement hard enough to be dazed for a few seconds. His attackers, taking advantage of his momentary lapse, pounced at him from all sides. The united assault only served to enrage him who then unleashed the full fire of Vuldarian battle lust. His arms morphed into plasma weapons that gave no quarter as the artillery fire spewed from him in all directions.

Amidst the roar of the weapon, he heard the high pitch screech of what he could only describe to be animal sounds. He was aware that some had fallen, because he could see their dark silhouettes crumbling to the floor across hot embers of plasma. Despite the flare of the plasma weapon, it was still difficult to see what exactly the creatures were that he was fighting so savagely. He lay down a wall of plasma that effectively halted any more lunging attacks and the sounds they made did not appear to be remotely human. Perhaps now that they were somewhat subdued, he could find out what this was all about.

Suddenly, without warning, he felt a sharp sting in his neck. Instinctively, he reached for his neck and knew immediately felt the warmth of blood under his partially formed fingers. The pain was hardly registrable but with a sinking feeling, Guy realised whatever was fired at him had penetrated the skin. His gaze scanned the distance and quickly honed in on a lone figure at the top of the school building.

Decoys! Those who attacked him were decoys!

The pain struck him with the force of a physical blow. Its initial impact was so sharp that Guy could not help crying out. Seconds crawled by as the pain increased to such intensity that he was forced to his knees. His arms began to lose shape as he was unable to maintain his morphing abilities.

"What have you done to me!" He managed to scream as the tendrils of agony slithered to the core of him.

They stood watching him, their faces still hidden by the dark, saying nothing. They had done what the Master had instructed. The poison inside the veins of the superhuman would do its work. Although the prey still struggled against the venom, he was lost and they knew it. Perhaps he did as well.

As the dark overcame him, Guy allowed himself one final thought.

This was gonna to hurt.......

CHAPTER THREE

I

They say Paris is the most romantic city in the world. You can stroll along the Champs-Elysées with a lover and feel as if the world had paused just for you. It was hard not to be swept up the atmosphere of Paree. It was a place where every gaze that met your own was filled with smouldering fire. Even the most unimaginative love song seems to take a life of its own when sung in the language of France. The language some had ardently believed to be the eternal language of love. Romance oozed from every Parisian cafe, every naked sculpture. It beckons like siren song sweeter than anything composed by the great maestro of history.

However, if you happened to be in Paris alone, the city took on a completely different persona. It was miraculously transformed into an asylum of rude taxi drivers and psychotic Citroens aiming to spill blood before the altar of the Arc de Triomphe.

In other words, it could really suck.

It was in this happy state of mind, that Beatriz de Costa was expected to be the smiling face of Revson cosmetics. It was hard to be excessively enthusiastic about anything when she was modelling underwear in the somewhat icy temperatures of Europe's rapidly approaching winter season. With the background scenery of the Eiffel Tower behind her, Beatriz forced herself to remember that she led a very glamorous life even though she was freezing her ass off. Gucci or not, this was not the outfit of choice for outdoor wear.

Nevertheless, she had endured worse as a super heroine and she knew the shoot was almost over for the day. Her assistant, Monique (could she have a more French name), was waiting for her with a lengthy, mink coat. Okay, it was not mink. Thanks to having a best friend who was a former ice goddess and a bona fide lover of anything warm and furry, Beatriz had been converted to avoid fur. The mink coat, she called it to console herself in the face of her damnable conscience, called to her with its inviting promise of warmth.

Next to Monique, stood Catherine Colbert. The United Nations delegate seemed to step of a magazine cover herself. It annoyed Beatriz to no end that Catherine did not need to spend hours selecting the perfect ensemble. Catherine was one of those fortunate women to whom style was as natural as taking a breath of air. Since the formation of the Crusaders, the two women had rekindled their friendship and Beatriz made it a point to see Catherine whenever she was in Paris.

"Okay, that's a wrap." Enrique announced.

Beatriz let out a sigh of relief as the cameras stopped flashing in front of her face. Finally, she could discard the cheeky but alluring smile she had been forced to wear for the last four hours.

"I am going to lunch!" Beatriz announced loudly and made a beeline for Monique and her nice mink (all right already, fake fur) coat.

No one said anything to stop her. She supposed she could hardly blame them if they thought she was a bit temperamental. This cold weather had left her in a bad mood. As she walked towards Catherine, the UN diplomat offered her a look of sympathy.

"I do not envy you at this moment." Catherine declared as Beatriz slipped into the warmth of the coat.

She hugged the thick material around herself and released a sated sigh. It took a few seconds before she felt any blood was once again flowing in her body. "The things I do for fashion." Beatriz managed a grin even though her teeth were still chattering slightly.

"So are we still on for lunch?" Catherine inquired.

"Sure, we are." Beatriz responded and looked towards Monique. "Did you make those reservations?"

"Yes Mademoiselle." Monique declared. "I have told them to expect you and Mademoiselle Colbert."

She was a tiny thing, not more than nineteen years old, Beatriz estimated. It was hard to think that this young girl was a university student. Looking at Monique made Beatriz feel somewhat jaded. Had she been anything life this waif when she was nineteen? Beatriz could not think that far back. "Why don't you take a break, I'll be an hour at least." Beatriz replied before indicating to Catherine to follow her.

They did not have to walk far. Across the street from the shoot was a pleasant little bistro located on the edge of the Seine River. Although she felt a little underdressed for any meal at the moment, the coat provided enough cover for her to appear reasonably decent for the public.

An elderly man who looked as if he might have fallen out of a postcard showed them to a table facing a picture window that overlooked the famous river. With a cheesy moustache and an outfit that looked straight out of the Middle Ages, he showed them to a table with a picturesque view of the Seine. It was a quaint establishment, being one of those places where it was possible to watch the world go by over a cup of expresso. After placing their orders and being served with warm beverages, Beatriz felt slightly more at ease after the morning she had endured.

"So how are things between you and Booster?" Beatriz inquired as she took a sip of coffee.

Catherine produced a smile that might have been a blush. "Going slowly," she admitted. "It's difficult with both of us on different sides of the Atlantic but I'm working on a permanent UN assignment in New York."

"That's great!" Beatriz exclaimed although she did not add her surprise. She had not believed the relationship was on such a level that Catherine was willing to make such changes in her career to accommodate spending more time with Booster. "Booster is mostly based in the Big Apple anyway. His new restaurant is doing okay." Neither was she exaggerating when she made that remark. Although most superheroes preferred Warriors for casual gatherings without the interference of the paparazzi or fans, Booster's new Planet Krypton restaurant attracted tourists in droves. She had made an appearance at the restaurant as a favour to Booster about a week ago and she was shaken when she found herself before an audience of hundreds cramming themselves through the doors.

"Yes," Catherine agreed. "I'm glad that he's experiencing some success at last. Although I am surprised that he left Lightspeed wholly in Ted's hands."

"Not really," Beatriz replied. "When it comes to being in charge of anything hi-tech, Ted's pretty reliable. I know he behaves like a juvenile some times but that's a lot going on under those goggles."

"Such as it is." Catherine chuckled. "What about Guy? Booster tells me he's gone back to teaching."

"Yeah," Beatriz answered, still having trouble believing it. "I can't get over it sometimes. How long has it been since we were thinking of having him neutered for the sake of humanity?"

"Not that long," Catherine laughed remembering those times well. Guy Gardner had been an absolute nightmare in those days. It was amazing what some alien genes could to a man's personality.

"Sometimes, I think that him giving up the Green Lantern ring was the best thing for him." Beatriz said with no humour in her voice. It took a moment for Catherine to realise she was utterly serious about that remark.

"You think so?"

Beatriz nodded. "Consider how Guy's been since Hal Jordan took the ring from him. He has really straightened himself out. I never imagined he would go back to teaching again. As it was, I had a hard enough time believing that he had ever passed kindergarten." Much of Guy's early history had been a mystery to Beatriz because there were some things he disliked talking about. From his League files, there was some mention of an injury that left him in a coma for a long time. Considering how much his personality had altered after his emergence from the coma, those injuries must have been extensive.

"How long has he been teaching?" Catherine asked, still unable produce a mental picture that associated Guy Gardner being a high school teacher.

Beatriz was about to answer when suddenly she heard the shrill sound of her cell phone ringing. She rolled her eyes in frustration and dug her hand into her coat pocket before her fingers touched the smooth plastic exterior. The other patrons in the bistro had started to look at her as the noise echoed through the peace of the quiet establishment. Some muttered among themselves and Beatriz was sure she had broken some restaurant etiquette by forgetting to switch off her phone.

Offering Catherine an apologetic look as she activated the phone, Beatriz hoped it was worth the embarrassment.

"Bea de Costa." She answered finally.

"Hello, is this Beatriz?" An unfamiliar female voice asked.

"Yes, this is she." Beatriz said impatiently, wondering who had been divulging her private number to strangers without permission. "Who is this?"

"Verona."

Beatriz straightened up immediately in her chair. "Verona? This is pleasant surprise." She lied but decided to be polite anyway. Verona was one of Guy's entourage at Warriors. She had returned with him from the Nubba Jungle when Guy had discovered his Vuldarian heritage. Verona considered it her personal obligation to protect the last Vuldarian seed from any harm. Unfortunately that protection also made her believe that her counsel should be extended to other areas of his life, in particular his romantic relationships. Verona had not disguised her dislike of Guy's relationship with Beatriz. Beatriz on the other hand, had the impression that Verona did not feel anyone but she was good enough for Guy.

"My reasons for calling are nothing so pleasant, Beatriz." Verona said imperiously.

Despite her attitude, Beatriz refused to be baited. "Then get on with it." She said co.

"Have you heard from Gardner recently?" Verona inquired. There was a hint of something Beatriz was quick to identify as genuine worry in her voice. Immediately, the Brazilian beauty stiffened with alarm.

"No, I haven't. Why?" Beatriz demanded. Her gaze met Catherine's; who was perceptive enough to guess from her body language that something was amiss.

"No one has seen him in three days." Verona said quietly. "We believed he might be conducting Crusader business but then the school called in today to inform us that his car had never left the parking lot and appears to have been damaged."

Beatriz forced herself to remain calm. The life of a superhero was filled with uncertainties and it was not unusual for Guy to simply go off on undisclosed business. However, something else nagged at her. Even though he was under no obligation to do so, Guy made it a habit to call whenever she was on a photo shoot. Now that she thought of it, she had not heard from him since coming to Paris. The realisation did more to shatter her resolve that any portents of doom from Verona. "I haven't heard from him either." Beatriz confessed. "As far as I know the Crusaders aren't on any ongoing cases. Have you tried John Henry? Guy might have gone up to see him in Metropolis."

"I attempted to contact the Justice League Watchtower." Verona retorted sounding somewhat annoyed that Beatriz could believe her to be so inept as to not consider that alternative. "I was informed that Steel is presently on League business. I do not believe Gardner would be with him."

"No, he wouldn't be." Beatriz mused, knowing Guy's feelings about the League, well enough. As for Crusader business, Beatriz discounted that theory promptly. As far as she was aware, they were not working on anything at the moment. "I'll call a Crusader meeting." She said firmly. "See if any of the others might have any ideas of where he might be." Taking a deep breath, she made another decision as well. "I'll be back in the States of the next plane. I'll talk to you then."

"Very well, Beatriz." Verona answered. Beatriz heard a slight pause in the woman's voice as if she had something further to add but decided against it.

After a moment, the phone went dead and Beatriz looked at Catherine. "Guy's missing."

********

Thanks to her lawyer, Jack Small who specialised in paranormal legalities, her contract allowed her the freedom to come and go as she pleased. Jack had modified her Revson modelling contract with the inclusion of a clause that would allow her absence in the even of superhero emergencies. With this freedom, Beatriz had just enough time to for the crew enough time to finish up the shoot before she was booked on the Concorde and on her way back to the States. Before she left France however, she sent an automated message through the Crusader beepers to organise a meeting when she reached New York.

II

For many of the Crusaders, Warriors was fast becoming a second home to many of them when they were in New York. When Buck Wargo had built Warriors for Guy, he had instructed the architects designing the structure to create the perfect headquarters for a superhero on the upper floors of the building. While most people were aware that the first two floors of Warriors were for the paying customers, the rest of the building was a maze of hi-tech equipment and state of the art living quarters.

Sigrid Nansen who was one of the Crusaders based in New York was the first to arrive. Her fortune, since joining the Crusaders had changed for the better. Although she had to prove herself to her colleagues at Star Labs when she had first signed on as a research assistant, lately she had been given more responsibility. Not many were aware that Sigrid had a doctorate in biochemistry, specifically in the expanding field of hyper normal gene development. Sigrid had neglected academic qualifications in favour of her paranormal ones. Since the Justice League she had joined disbanded, Sigrid had been paying more attention to her personal life. She supposed much of her success had to do with a new found confidence as well. It was reflected in the way she carried herself and in the manner she approached her work at Star Labs.

Although she was wearing her Ice Maiden uniform, it went unnoticed hidden under a dark trench coat. Sigrid made her way into Warriors and did not require being shown the way to the private meeting room upstairs where the Crusaders usually held their meetings. It was late in the evening and the restaurant's dinner crowd was especially busy today. She navigated through waiters and patrons, trying to look inconspicuous without much success. A few voices revealed her presence to the rest of the room. Sigrid decided that it was not easy to ignore a woman with silver white hair and blue skin walking past. Although Warriors was meant to be a superhero establishment, it was easy to forget that many people came here to catch a glimpse of their favourite heroes.

All apart of the service, she decided, as she disappeared up the staircase.

When she reached the large room where most of the Crusaders meetings were held, she noticed that the restaurant staff below had prepared things for them. The room was lit, the curtains drawn, offering a charming view of the city and also for the benefit of members who were used to arriving by air. Communication equipment was located on the far wall of the room. From this room, they had the equipment to make everything from a simple telephone to accessing the most sophisticate satellite equipment on the planet.

In the centre of polished wooden floor was a heavy, dark table with chairs enough for ten. Sigrid could never understand the need for the extra seats when the Crusaders only numbered seven. Although there was a small wet bar in the corner of the room, Guy's employees had nonetheless graciously set out a tray containing a jug of water and appropriately numbered glasses. Sigrid slipped off her coat and draped it across the back of her usual seat. She was about to reach across the table and pour herself a drink, when she heard movement at one of the windows.

Looking up, she saw General Glory coming through the window left open for the more aerial inclined members of the Crusader. He sailed through the opening and landed in the narrow passageway between the wall and the table.

"Hi Don." Sigrid greeted.

The young General Glory was in full uniform as well and Sigrid wondered momentarily what he looked like under the mask. Although the group had chosen to drop the formality of keeping their secret identities, for some of them the point seemed moot anyway; Sigrid had never actually seen Donovan Wallace without his General Glory uniform.

"Hey Sigrid." He responded in kind and walked around the table towards her. "I guess we're early."

Sigrid swept her gaze across the empty room before she nodded in agreement. "Do you know that the meeting is about?" She inquired.

"Not at all," Donovan said planting himself in one of the chairs. "I am sure that it's urgent though. Bea did sound worried about something."

"Yes she did." Sigrid agreed, knowing Beatriz well enough to be certain of that. Deciding that there was little point in guessing until the others arrived, she moved on to something else for the moment. "So how's things with you?"

Surprised by the personal inquiry, Donovan hesitated before responding. He considered whether it was wise to reveal too much about his personal life and then decided what harm could there be in it. After all, he relied on these people with his life and considered them friends. "I turned down my parents offer to move back home to Iowa."

Sigrid was aware of his situation of course. They all were. Unless Donovan Wallace said the words that transformed him into General Glory, he would have spent most of his time as a paraplegic. Donovan had been a rookie cop until a gunman's bullet ended a promising career with one fatal shot. While he kept his life, he had lost the use of his legs and any hope of a future in law enforcement. If it had not been for Joe Jones choosing to pass on Lady Liberty's legacy before he died, Donovan would have remained a paraplegic permanently.

"How did they take it?"

Donovan let out a heavy sigh, indicating they had not taken it well at all. "They're worried I'm trying to push myself too hard. They don't know about General Glory so they think I spend most of my time in a wheelchair."

"Do you?" Sigrid asked. With the strength and freedom of movement being General Glory meant to him, Sigrid wondered whether he returned to being Donovan Wallace at all.

"Sometimes, when I have friends coming to visit." He confessed. "However, most of my friends have sort of dried up. When it first happened, they tried to visit but it was awkward. There are so many things they believed I couldn't do, so they went out of their way not mention it. After a while, they just stopped coming."

"I'm sorry." Sigrid said sympathetically. "When I underwent the process of DNA mutation into this," she gestured to her hair and skin. "My friends thought I was crazy. They said they did not mind that I looked so different but I could see it in their eyes. They were trying not to care because they did not want to be called shallow but I could tell they were uncomfortable being around me. It did not bother me that they were gone when I went to join the Global Guardians but after I left and got out of the game, it was hard being so alone."

"I keep busy." He replied. "Thanks to my disability cheques, I've got money coming in. I've been thinking of going back to work lately."

"Really?" She said trying to sound encouraging. "What are you looking at?"

"I have no idea." He laughed. "I haven't got that far yet. I minored in computing when I was in college so that might be where I'm headed."

"Sounds like a plan." She replied.

Suddenly, there was a puff of smoke a few metres away from them and despite the sudden flash of light, both Sigrid and Donovan were unconcerned with the display. It merely signalled the arrival of Zatanna, Mistress of Magic as she was sometimes called.

"Hello all." She greeted as she stepped out from the dissipating cloud. With her was the Blue Beetle, better known to all of them as Ted Kord. It was not unusual for the due to arrive at meetings together. From the gossip she had been hearing around town lately, it appeared that Ted and Zatanna were an item these days.

"Hi gang, what's up?" Ted greeted exuberantly.

"Not much," Donovan replied. "We're just waiting for you guys to show."

"Is Beatriz not here yet?" Zatanna inquired. "I thought she would be the first one here, she did seem worried when we talked. The magician strolled languidly towards the wet bar and poured herself a glass of mineral water.

"Well she is coming from Europe," Ted pointed out. "Even if she can fly, its still faster for her to take the Concord."

"Ah the traditional means of travel." Booster Gold declared as he announced his presence at the window. Like Donovan, he made his entrance through the window.

"Is that Booster Gold?" Ted declared mischievously. "I didn't recognise you, I thought you'd be running with Sly Stallone and his crowd, now that you got one of this Planet restaurants. "

"Nah, Sly is busy tonight, although Demi wants me for sure." Booster replied.

"I'll be sure to mention that to Catherine." Beatriz said as she entered the room from the stairs. She was still wearing her Chanel suit and had not even changed into her Fire uniform. Beatriz had come here straight from the airport. Since the telephone call from Verona, she had barely time to breathe. As for Verona, she and Wargo had taken time to track down Guy's old enemies, in case they were the reason for his disappearance.

She walked straight to the head of the table and sat down. Her manner indicated that she would not tolerate delay and the rest of the Crusaders quickly found their places and waited for her to begin.

"Okay Bea," Ted said once they were all seated. "What's this about?"

Beatriz took a deep breath, hoping on a wild chance that they might know where Guy was and end this torture for her. The more time passed, the more she became certain that something terrible had happened to Guy. There was a knot of fear slowly strangling her heart that she was unable to dispel, no matter what she told herself.

"It's about Guy," she finally replied. "He's disappeared."

CHAPTER FOUR

I

"What do you mean missing?" Ted looked at Beatriz.

Everyone was staring at Beatriz, waiting for her to reveal the details of Guy's disappearance. The Brazilin beauty tried to sound level as she began speaking. "I got a call while I was in Paris this morning. It was from Verona." The Crusaders knew who Verona was and while they might not know the tenuous relationship between her and Beatriz, they did know she was apart of Buck Wargo's group who resided permanently as Warriors.

"Verona told me that no one has seen or heard from Guy since Friday." Beatriz continued. "I rang the school from Paris and I found out that last time anyone saw him was Friday. Since his car is still in the parking lot, I'm assuming whatever happened to him, took place at the school parking lot. The car's wrecked so I'm guessing that he made it as far as the lot and no more that than that." She paused a moment, strengthening her resolve because her fear for Guy was starting to appear in her voice.

"Have you checked around?" Ted asked. "We're all on League reserve now, so he might be on their business."

Beatriz had thought about that and remembered that Verona had put in a call to the Watchtower during her initial inquiries. Shortly after the formation of the Crusaders, Jonn Jonzz, the Martian Manhunter had approached them about joining the League reserve. Jonn had been persuasive and a part of them all could not help feeling a certain pride at being asked to join the greatest superhero team of all, even in this limited capacity. It was also an added bonus that despite their membership in the League, it would not impede any of their obligations to the Crusaders.

"No," she shook her head. "They've got a couple of things going," she responded, "but nothing that requires any reserve members."

"What about enemies?" Donovan inquired. "I seem to recall Guy had a few."

"Already covered." Beatriz answered the young man automatically. "Verona and Buck are running down all of Guy's old hit list and so far, they've turned up nothing."

"Listen this is Guy remember," Booster declared in an attempt to lighten the mood and perhaps alleviate Beatriz's fear a little. "The one true Green Lantern, Guy Gardner, who goes where he wants, when he wants."

"He didn't really say that did he?" Sigrid looked at him in mild disbelief.

"He was priceless back then," Booster remarked. "He just oozed poetry."

Sigrid shrugged and then muttered under her breath. "That's one way of putting it."

"Look, I know what he was!" Beatriz shouted angrily. "He's not like that anymore. I think something is really wrong and if you guys can't see it, I'll damn well go look for him myself." She stood up abruptly and was almost about to leave.

"Bea," Zatanna said quickly. "We're sorry," she apologised and threw Booster a stare that told him patronising Bea was no way to proceed. If it was Ted in this same position, Zatanna would have been similarly afraid for his life. "Please we want to help. Is that all you know?"

"I'm sorry," Beatriz replied realising she had over reacted somewhat. "He is different these days," she let her gaze move across their faces so they would know that she was in earnest about this belief. "He usually calls me when I'm abroad and he hasn't done that. He knows he has people in his life now and going AWOL like this is not the way to behave." What she did not say was that Guy loved her and he would not willing put her through this kind of anxiety unless something had physically prevented him from contacting her. That was as far as she was willing to go in the reasons for his silence. The idea that he might be dead was unconscionable. She could not imagine and knew if she did, she would be no good to him.

"Okay," Ted said flashing Zatanna a warm smile in gratitude for how she had handled Beatriz. "He's missing and judging by the evidence, whoever's got him is someone new." Ted thought quickly, trying to decided what to do because Bea needed to feel that there was some plan to follow, some five step guide to finding him. Even though expectation might have been a little unrealistic, she needed to believe they had a plan to find Guy and right now, Ted had to provide it.

"Where does he teach?" He asked Beatriz.

"Washington High School in Brooklyn." Beatriz replied softly, no longer looking at any of them.

"I know it." Donovan announced. "Its a rough neighbourhood, full gang violence and drugs. He picked himself a real firecracker to go riding into."

"That's Guy." Booster stated. "He loves the good fight, in or out of the classroom."

"Alright," Ted nodded "So we start there. Don, you and I will go down there tonight. You know the turf better than I do."

General Glory nodded but added a moment later. "I'd suggest we go in the morning and that we go in without the costumes. These people don't like talking to outsiders as it is, let alone superheroes."

"What about the rest of us?" Beatriz finally spoke up. "I can't just sit on my hands and wait."

"Yes you will." Ted said firmly. "Bea, if Guy is missing, its going to take good old fashioned detective work to find him."

"So we're getting Batman right?" Booster asked.

Ted glared at him with narrowed eyes. "You're such a good friend." He said sarcastically. "I don't know why I need enemies with you around."

*********

There was pain.

So much pain. He fought hard against it. He tried to keep the tidal wave of it behind a wall of strength but to no avail. There was so much blackness. The ability to think clearly was slipping away into a dark abyss he could no longer reach. Other thoughts began filtering into his mind from places gratefully forgotten. Rage, hatred, fury, predatory madness, they were emerging from some hidden receptacle inside him, rejoicing their dance of freedom with a song of victory. They forced away everything else that made him who he was.

Or he might have been.

Through the darkness a voice anchored him to what was, but it was not strong enough to hold back the tide. The drugs had weakened it as easily as it had overcome him. In the few moments of clarity he managed to produce whilst fighting the agony, he remembered things. Things like green fire and cold ice. He knew they were important to him, almost as important as staying alive, by why was eluded him. In the fiery battle raging inside him, the green fire offered a place of rest, a warmth around which he was drawn to feel comfort.

Why?

There was no answer. There was just silence and in the darkness, he would pray to the green fire for an end to his torture.

He would pray to the green fire to take him away or kill him.

II

Ted Kord surveyed the deserted parking lot of Washington High School. It was an hour before the school day began and he had arrived here early for that very reason. The school staff had left the vehicle as they found and although it had been in the open for four days, Ted was reasonably sure that some evidence might still exist to be found. According to the weather report, the skies over New York had been clear those past few days, so he was assured that rain had not washed anything away.

The vehicle was in worse shape than Beatriz had originally described. As Ted walked around it, studying the damage, a vague mental picture began to form of the events that led to its abandonment. The side of the vehicle on the passenger door had been smashed inward. The force of impact had shattered both windows as glass covered the seats of the jeep.

He got down on his hands and looked beneath the jeep. From that angle, Ted was able to see just how violent the impact had been. The vehicle chassis was practically bent out of shape. Whatever had hit the jeep had the velocity and strength of a truck. After a few seconds, he climbed from underneath the vehicle and studied the paintwork. The red paint had bubbled in places, indicating tremendous heat.

"Plasma." Ted said under his breath.

Beatriz was right. Guy had met his kidnappers here. The plasma scorching told Ted that Guy had made a fight for it and had lost. He let his gaze move across the parking lot, taking anything of value into account. Booster was correct in saying Batman was the greatest detective in the world today but Ted had done his share of investigative work, enough to be able to gumshoe with the best of them. His eyes noticed the damaged light bulbs immediately. The glass beneath them had not been swept away and Ted immediately observed that the pattern of destruction was not as random as it appeared. Almost all the light bulbs that had been damaged were from lamp posts nearest to the car.

His attackers did not want to be seen.

Ted paced the floor of the lot, thinking of the ambush would have taken place. Guy was attacked at the car but not caught completely unaware. What had given them away? Vuldarian perception was well honed, so he might have seen them before the trap was sprung. Perhaps that was why the lights were shot out? No, Ted shook his head. That was too premeditated and too much to chance. To shoot out the lights would indicate that they knew Guy would work late that night. From all evidence, Guy had not planned to stay behind after all. It was just chance that he did.

So, it would have been shot out when they saw him leave the school. They must have done it after or during the attack. Guy would not make for his car after hearing gunshots. He would have investigated the source. That left another unlikely option for Ted to dismantle. He did not believe that someone would be shooting out lights during a fight with Guy Gardner, Warrior. Guy could take Superman when fully provoked and although he would not beat the Big Blue, he was capable of giving the Kryptonian a decent challenge before succumbing. No, it did not make sense that their attackers would waste any resource while Guy was being attacked.

Suddenly, another thought came to Ted. What it a full frontal assault was meant to disguise something else? Perhaps the lights were meant to be off so that Guy would not see the primary assault but someone else, hidden in the darkness? Ted immediately scanned the area and saw that the school building was in view of all the lamp posts. It was a long shot but Ted relied on instinct more than he relied on logic.

Picking the lock of the door in the main school building, Ted moved through the silent hallways. As his footsteps echoed through the long corridors, it was hard to imagine that in hours, this place would be full of teenagers. He admired the murals on the walls, covered in colourful but amateurish art. His own high school had not been this different, with pennants hanging on the walls and hard earned trophies adorning the display cabinets in certain junctures.

He found the staircase leading to the roof and reached the top in a matter of minutes. Emerging through the steel door, the colourful inside of the school was replaced by unimaginative grey finishes on air vents and other protruding projections. Ted knew where to begin the search and he made his way to the part of the building that faced the parking lot. As he walked along the concrete edge, his eyes studied the rough, grey floor.

After about two minutes, he was rewarded with a find.

In truth, it was not much of a find rather something that at once, seemed out of place in these grim surroundings. The piece of fibre was almost minuscule. A lesser person might have missed it but Ted spotted it immediately. He reached into his coat and produced a tiny leather case he used to keep tools for such instances. Using a pair of fine tweezers, he picked up the strand of red fibre and dropped it into a clear plastic bag. For all he knew, this could be the piece from a kid's sweater but Ted was dubious that it could so simple an answer. He had a faint suspicion was this substance was but needed a laboratory to confirm it.

By the time his examination of that roof was complete, students and teachers began making their appearance on school grounds. Ted was not wearing his Blue Beetle costume so he looked like any other person on the street. He waited at the front steps of the school, watching students file past him, wondering if adolescent was as nightmarish as these kids made it out to be. Even in this part of town, it was the cliques that ran the school. He saw the cheerleader types, the jocks, the nerds and of course the newest classifications in the cliques' encyclopedia, the gangs and the junkies. Watching them was like watching a dark mirror of the American Dream, the one he was certain, no one spoke of when the first settlers came to the new world.

He was almost grateful when he saw Donovan's face through the crowd. Like Ted, General Glory was attired in civilian clothing. Compared to the kids he had just seen and the weariness of the teachers who were forced to educate them, it was practically comforting to see Donovan. Ted rose to his feet and walked through the bodies, like a man swimming against the tide.

"How's it going?" Donovan inquired as they met in front of the steps.

"Spooky." Ted said honestly. "I see good kids here but they're drowning in the system." He looked around sympathetically.

"I know what you mean." Donovan agreed as both men started up the steps towards the main entrance. "Our generation and the one's before ours are to be blame for this." He replied. "These kids can't help what they are, they're just trying to survive."

Ted could not disagree. However, they were here on other business instead of a debate on the moral conscience of America. "Guy never left the parking lot." He announced.

Donovan did not meet his gaze but took the information with a slight nod of acknowledgment. "So she was right about that."

"There's more." Ted continued. "They didn't take him by surprise either. I looked his car over. There is no sign of blood but he gave them a fight before they took him down. There's plasma burns on his car." He did not need to explain that part of Guy's Vuldarian arsenal was his plasma artillery.

"Anything else?" Donovan asked.

"There's this." Ted reached into his pocket and showed him the clear plastic bag. Donovan took a close look at it, saying nothing for a moment.

"I've seen this." He stated.

"I've seen it too." Ted nodded. "We need a lab to confirm it for sure."

"You got one?" Donovan averted his gaze from the red strand Ted was holding.

"Sigrid works at Star Labs," Ted replied. "I think we can rely on her to check this out for us."

"I thought Vuldarian biochemistry protected him from all forms of drugs." Donovan declared.

Ted nodded. Until Sigrid placed his discovery under a microscope, nothing was for certain. However, for the moment, it was enough that both Donovan and himself had come to the same conclusion without any form of prior collusion. It only added to further convince Ted that his initial suspicion had been correct. Getting Sigrid to prove it was starting to feel like just a formality. "Who knows what that is?" Ted declared. "What do we really know about Vuldarians? Guy's the last of the race. Whoever did this wanted him alive, which means they would not have come after him unless they were capable of taking him alive."

"But using a tranquilliser dart? Would that work?" Donovan asked. Like Ted, he believed the fine strands looked very much like those found on the tails of tranquilliser darts used on wild animals at the zoo or something similar.

"Like I said before," Ted repeated as they went through the front doors. "Whoever did this isn't stupid. This was a planned attack. Someone was waiting for him on the top of the roof while he was distracted. A frontal assault would take Guy's attention from the sniper who probably shot him while he was fighting the other half of operation."

"Well then whoever it is, is not local." Donovan stated firmly. "This neighbourhood's main trouble is gang related. The gangs run this area and I've known them to have any meta-human or hi-tech assistance."

********

Ted and Donovan spent the most of the morning speaking to people who came into contact with Guy on the Friday of his disappearance. Although Guy's day had been busy dealing with school business, nothing out of the ordinary had transpired. He had come to school, teaching his social sciences classes and then chosing to work late to grade some papers. It had always been difficult for Ted to imagine Guy Gardner as a school teacher. During their League days, Guy was little more than a royal pain in the butt, let alone a colleague. However listening to the way some of the students spoke about Guy, made Ted proud to call him friend.

To some of the students, Guy was the mentor they never had, the one teacher who was not afraid to stand up to the gangs and knew how to give as good as he got. Although the more troublesome students may have disliked Guy, Ted sensed that on some level, they respected him. Ted supposed that it was not every day that a superhero came down from his ivory tower to try and make a difference in their world. Of course, in this world, there were rules and the rules prohibited them from giving Ted and Donovan any real assistance.

They received more success from the teachers who told them that Guy took particular interest in his students. After everything he had heard so far about Guy's teaching technique, Ted was hardly surprised by that revelation. Guy could be driven when he chose a cause and this was no exception. Guy took his work as a teacher seriously and his dedication to helping those students that could be saved was nothing to be underestimated. Ted heard stories about his attempts to help some kids further themselves. Apparently, he had done the rounds of the local businesses to persuade owners to hire students for part time jobs. For kids in this neighbourhood, the opportunity to make money honestly was almost non-existent. An honest job was all that stood in between them and a future that did not involve them selling drugs for extra cash.

Ted and Donovan left the teacher's staff room after deciding there was nothing more to be learned from the school. Despite receiving Guy's glowing credentials as a teacher, Ted was disappointed that they had not learnt anything truly useful. He was starting to think that maybe Booster was right, maybe they did need a professional like Batman.

"When we find Guy, I'm going to see if Lightspeed is in any position to help these kids. The company is growing, I'm sure we could afford a couple of scholarships."

"I think that's a great idea." Donovan said approving wholeheartedly.

The halls were empty as most of the students were now at classes. However, as Ted and Donovan emerged into the quiet hallway, they saw a young Latino girl standing by a locker. When their eyes met hers, she turned back to her locker and started twisting combination lock to open it. Ted and Donovan exchanged glances, recognising the possibility of information from her behaviour. Although she was not making any attempt to leave, Ted could sense she was hesitant to approach them. He decided to make it easy for her and walked straight towards the young woman.

"Hi there." He greeted. "My name is Ted and this is my friend, Donovan."

She turned around slowly. Her gaze barely grazing them as she raised her eyes to theirs briefly. She was a willowy thing, with long dark hair held neatly in a braid and dusk coloured skin. Ted did not want to rush her because he could see her lip quivering as she decided whether or not she ought to speak.

"Theresa." She said finally. Her voice escaped her throat like a caught breath.

Ted extended his hand forward while Donovan offered her an encouraging smile. "Pleased to meet you Theresa." Ted answered shaking her hand.

She did not respond to that but swallowed her fear again. Theresa seemed so fragile that Ted wished he could alleviate her fear somewhat. "Theresa, do you know Mr Gardner?"

She nodded quickly, as if the name spoken would yield tragic things for her if anyone else were to hear it. Her eyes darted about the corridor once again, like a frightened animal. "Yes." Theresa spoke. "He was really worried about Kevin Sharpe."

"Kevin Sharpe?" Ted asked. "Who is that?"

Once again, it took some moments before she was capable of responding. Each word to escape her lips did so with effort. "He's in my social science class." She replied. "He didn't come to school for a week and Mr Gardner was really worried about him being gone."

"Worried enough to look for him?" Donovan inquired, even though he knew the answer before he asked the question. If Guy was the teacher everyone believed him to be then Guy would have surely tried to find out what happened to Kevin Sharpe.

"I think so." Theresa said. "I live near Kevin so Mr Gardner asked if I have seen hom at all."

"Have you?" Ted looked at her.

Theresa shook her head slowly. "No one has seen him." With that she clutched her books to her breast tighter and started forward. "That's all I know." She said finally and broke through them before she disappeared down the hall. Ted watched her leave, hearing her footsteps on the floor until they finally abated with the sound of closing door somewhere in the building. Only when there was silence in the hall did Ted turn back to Donovan and spoke.

"Let's find Kevin Sharpe."

CHAPTER FIVE

I

After almost two weeks, the trail to find Kevin Sharpe was cold. Donovan's contacts at the local police precinct offered little information as well. Mrs Sharpe did indeed file a missing person report on her son but the police had taken it no further than that. Why should they? Kevin Sharpe was just another black kid from the worst part of town. What did it matter to them that he was never into drugs, was almost a straight A student and had a bright future as a track athlete? The colour of his skin seemed to dictate how he was he was perceived, no matter how unfair the standard.

Nevertheless, Ted was faced with the same frustration Guy must have felt, in his search for Kevin. Ted had even visited the boy's mother who told him of the promise Guy made to find her son. Although it seemed unlikely that Kevin's fate might have had anything to do with the kidnappers who took Guy, it was all Ted had to go on. Ted allowed Donovan to do most of the legwork in the neighbourhood because the younger man had his sources who appreciated their anonymity.

Instead of impeding Donovan's progress by his presence, Ted ran down the list of Kevin's friends provided as provided by his mother. Judging from the short list, it appeared Kevin was somewhat of a loner. Ted could understand that. Kevin believed in his future and kept company with people who believed in the same. In this neighbourhood, that number did not add up to much. Kevin had a few friends but mostly kept to himself. His attention was mostly focussed on his studies and from what Ted learnt from his mother, his younger siblings. The more he spoke to Kevin's friends, the more Ted realised why Guy had been so intent on finding the boy. He was a kid who was smart enough to know that an education was the ticket to a better life. No way would this kid simply go off on a whim. If Kevin Sharpe was missing, there was good reason to worry.

The name Hex was almost the last one on the list. Kevin's mother had added it as almost an afterthought. Apparently, Hex was into the gangs and he was into drugs, which was probably the reason why Mrs Sharpe had discounted Kevin having any present associations. Ted never discounted anything until he knew otherwise. Finding Hex was no easy thing. The boy's family saw him occasionally and was not eager to tell Ted where to find him. Finally, Ted managed to get the name of his gang at least. After that, it was not difficult for Donovan to find the places the gang usually frequented.

Donovan's sources had informed them that the gang's hideout if it could be called that, was an old abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the industrial zone. Considering the kind of artillery these kids would be packing, both men decided that it would probably be safer if they went in as Blue Beetle and General Glory. As the approached the warehouse, it was clear that most of the warehouses in this area had been similarly forgotten. From above, the place looked as unsavoury as it was. Devoid of colour except for dying patches of dark gold where grass might have once thrived, the area seemed to have a greyish pallor.

It had been a long since this neighbourhood had seen better days and this ramshackle and abandon collection of grey buildings seemed to be the source of all expanding deterioration. It was not hard to locate the gang once they landed on the roof of the building. The sound of loud rap music thundered from the lower levels at full blast. As Ted peered over the edge of the roof, he saw a collection of expensive cars, ranging from Cadillacs to BMW's parked at the main driveway.

"I'll go in first." Ted instructed Donovan. "You stay out here and keep an eye on anyone who tries to leave the party."

"No problem." Donovan replied as Ted started down the stairs leading to the interior of the building.

It did not take Ted long to reach the ground floor of the building. Most of the machinery had been removed long ago and the room he moved through was empty and derelict. Almost all the windows had been smashed in and among the rising layer of dust on the floor, were random piles of glass. The lack of furnishing prevented any possibility of concealing his approach and Ted decided not to try.

The main factory floor was also devoid of machinery but in its absence, Ted saw old sofas and chairs strewn haphazardly around the room. He assumed that these additions were made by the building's latest tenants. There was a refrigerator in the corner, with a big screen TV, VCR and a pretty expensive stereo system. A regular little clubhouse, he thought. There was about ten of them, wearing sunglasses, expensive clothes, adorned with heavy jewellery. It was not the kind of opulence that could be earned on a paper route, that was for certain. They were Reebok and Nike liked badges of honour and Ted did not have to see it to know they were all carrying guns.

"Hi there." Ted greeted loudly.

Heads turned around simultaneously and at the sight of him, they all leapt out of their chairs and jumped to their feet. It took even less time that that to draw weapons. In less than thirty seconds, Ted was staring down the barrels of an assortment of guns.

Who the fuck are you?" One of them demanded. Ted knew immediately that the speaker was the gang's leader. He seemed meaner than the others. There was something in his eyes that bore little humanity. He reminded Ted of a wild animal, territorial and savagely ruthless.

"Fortunately for you, not the profanity police." Ted replied coolly. "I'm looking for someone."

"This is our turf man! Nobody invades our turf unless they want to get dead." The leader declared proudly.

Fine, Ted thought to himself. We will do the territorial dance. He heard the heavy thud of a firing mechanism locking into place. It was followed by others in the room. The rest of the gang was taking cue from him and although he did not display fear, he was poised to react. Ted's eyes narrowed as he glared at the youth and responded icily. "You fire that thing at me and you'll regret it." Ted warned, with an edge to his voice that indicated he was not bluffing. "I can tear those guns apart like paper."

His words affected them on some level because he saw one or two of the weapons wavering slightly. They were wrestling with the prospect of taking on a superhero. Ted decided to give them more incentive to co-operate.

"If you actually do get lucky and hit me, I have friends." Ted warned. "I really don't think you want the entire Justice League coming down on your ass. Are you ready to deal with Superman?" He walked closer to the leader and stared into the man's black eyes. "Are you ready to cross swords with the Bat?"

The gang leader's eyes widened at the mention of Batman. Ted could see genuine terror seeping into his eyes no matter how much bravado he might try to project. Of course Ted was exaggerating when he had used the League's name but these kids were dumb. They were more aggression than brains and years of undisciplined lives had made them dumb. They lived on the belief that they were too smart for everyone, adults, the cops, and perhaps even their parents. However, even the smartest knew that that there was always someone better out there. It was the law of their jungle. Ted hoped the reality check was instructive.

After an eternity, the man's gun dropped to his side. "What do you want?" He asked sourly. He gestured to the others to do the same.

"Good choice." Ted said smoothly. "I don't want any trouble, just some answers." As he watched the weapons being holstered, Ted continued speaking, even though his eyes were rarely off any of them for a second. "I am not interested in your business," Ted declared, hoping that would put them at some measure of ease. H e did not want this to erupt into a shooting match. "I'm looking for someone named Hex."

Hex gave himself away almost immediately. He was the only one who reacted at the sound of his name. Not to mention, when Ted had spoken the name, nine sets of eyes had turned to him. The boy named Hex was standing towards the back of the group. As they looked at him, a small island had formed around Hex when his friends took a step backwards.

"Hex," the leader spoke, his eyes still on Ted's. "Get out here."

Hex looked to his fellow gang members for help but saw none available to him. Finally, he began approaching hesitantly, fighting the urge to run because he knew the consequences if he did. Even if the superhero did not catch him, his own gang members would. Running out on the brothers was a quick way to an early death. The gangs did not suffer cowards.

"I'm Hex." He admitted reluctantly.

Ted looked the boy over carefully. He was about the same age as Kevin but they were poles apart. Hex was typical gang alumni. From the expensive sweat suit, to his nice clean Nikes and the faint silhouette of a gun hidden beneath his jacket, he was a world away from Kevin Sharpe. Ted's scrutiny made him uncomfortable and Hex did not seem able to meet his eyes. Everything about him oozed guilt. He knew what this was about all right. Ted was sure of it. "Kevin Sharpe. Do you know him?"

Hex did not answer but the gang leader whose name Ted learned was Roscoe, did. His brows knitted in recognition and looked at Hex critically "Ain't that the brother that wins all those races at Washington? The one who is a friend of yours?"

"That's him." Hex nodded.

"He's disappeared." Ted told Roscoe for his information. "No one has seen him in almost two weeks."

"We don't know nothing about that." Roscoe replied. "Nigger had a lot talent. I seen him run. He's clean Mister, he didn't wear no colours."

Ted flinched at the use of the word 'nigger' but believed Roscoe was genuinely telling the truth. What Ted knew of Kevin certainly indicated that the boy would not become involved with the gang. However, Ted saw a different expression on Hex's face. Hex was starting to sweat and he looked as if he was going to start running any minute. His anxiousness was so overt that even Roscoe was starting to see it. The gang leader's face hardened and he grabbed Hex by the collar and made him face him.

"I ought to kill you for bringing down his kind of heat!" Roscoe shouted glancing at Ted as he spoke. "What you got us into? Tell the man what he wants to know!" He slammed Hex into a nearby wall as the young man looked to the others for help. However, it was not forthcoming. None of the other gang members appeared willing to risk a confrontation over Hex's welfare if he had it coming.

"I don't know nothing!" Hex protested, hoping someone would help. By now, Roscoe had a gun to his cheek and did not appear afraid to use it. Of course, there was no way Ted would allow him to kill Hex. For the moment, however, the Blue Beetle held back. He wanted to Hex to talk and if a little intimidation helped things along, then so much the better.

"You better start talking man!" Roscoe demanded. "You been working for someone else?"

"No!" Hex looked shocked at the very mention of such a thing. "Kevin's a brother you know," he said quickly, his words leaving his mouth with the uneven frequency of a jackhammer. He was practically blubbering. "Kevin was always straight but we was talking and I know he needed the money for his momma, so I told him that I'd keep my ears to the ground."

"Hex, he's been gone for two weeks! How legal is that?" Ted shouted. "What did you get him into?"

"I swear I didn't know anything was going to happen to him." Hex confessed meeting Ted's gaze. "There's been a high roller moving through the neighbourhood, says he's a recruiter for something called the Arena. "

The Arena. For some reason that sounded familiar. Ted was trying to place when he had last heard the reference. He knew for certain that if was fairly recently but the details of it escaped him for the moment. He shook the thought out of his head and looked to Hex for more details. "A name." Ted glared at him. "I want a name."

"I don't have a name!" Hex declared helplessly, still wrapped in Roscoe's sights. "If you are interested, you go to the corner by Vine and Bowery Street on Saturday nights and wait. If you're what he's looking for, you go with him. I told Kevin about it because he's an athlete right? I thought he could make some money out of it, I swear I didn't know he was going to disappear. I didn't know they were going to take your friend either."

Ted looked up sharply. Until this point, he had not made any mention of Guy. "I didn't say anything about my friend, what do you know about it?"

Realising his mistake, Hex tried to repair the damage. "I don't know nothing!"

Roscoe however, was not so easily appeased. "You stupid bastard. Did you mess with one of them?" He pointed to Ted, indicating superheroes. "You know what kind of trouble that is? Roscoe barked. "You're going clean up your mess nigger, tell the man what he wants to know so that he'll leave us alone!"

Hex looked at Roscoe with pure terror in his eyes and Ted guessed at that moment, he was more afraid of telling the truth than of the gang leader. However, the comparison faded quickly when Roscoe cocked the barrel of his gun. The sound was loud enough to make Hex jump with fear and that was all the prompting, required by the young man into revealing all.

"Okay, okay!" Hex finally conceded. "Your friend was asking questions about Kevin, so I passed the word along to the dude. He said there was nothing to worry about. He ain't been seen since they took your friend. I think he's cleared out. "

Ted had expected that much. Those responsible for Guy's abduction were not amateurs. Once paranormal involvement was apparent, they were wise enough to disappear, leaving little evidence behind. To tell the truth, Ted was somewhat surprised that Hex was still alive to tell the tale of their existence. In any case, he had learnt all he could here. It was time to go.

"If anything happens to my friend," Ted glared at Hex so that the kid would understand the full weight of his words. "I'll come back for you and your friends." He let his gaze meet Roscoe's and added further. "I don't want this kid hurt." He told the gang leader whose eyes narrowed with hatred at being given orders by anyone like. "If I find out that he is dead, I'm going to assume that you killed him and I will be back."

With that, the Blue Beetle took his leave. He could no longer stomach the lot of them.

II

Hours later, Ted had returned to Booster's penthouse suite in Manhattan. Donovan Wallace knew nothing of the arena about which Hex had spoken. However, the new General Glory had promised to use the reference with his contacts to see if any information existed on the streets. Ted wracked his memory trying to remember when it was he had heard the term. However, the knowledge was not forthcoming. He was doubly certain now that Guy and Kevin were abducted by the same people. What was the arena? Somehow, he knew that this entire mystery hinged on the answer to this question.

"Any progress today?" Booster asked as he loosened his tie and dropped his tailored suit jacket on the lounge, where Ted was relaxing. Until Ted's detective work yielded answers, there was very little for the Crusaders to do about Guy's disappearance. Booster had gone to work as usual, poised by the phone in case of any news. Judging by Ted's sour demeanour, there did not appear to be any.

"Not much," Ted said glumly. "I've got a couple of leads though. I don't suppose you've heard about something called the Arena?"

Booster who was pouring himself a drink at the bar, stopped what he was doing immediately. He set the glass down on the surface and turned to his best friend. "Did you say the Arena?"

Ted had not really expected an answer when he has spoken. It was more of a rhetoric than anything else. He looked up at Booster immediately. "Are you saying you've heard of it?" Ted responded, almost afraid of the answer.

"Yeah, I've heard of it." Booster nodded, still shocked by the serendipity of the moment. "You're the second person in the last week to mention it."

Ted almost fell out of his chair. This was more than just good luck, it was positively eerie. He rose from the chair and crossed the room towards Booster. "When did you hear it?"

"Claire." Booster stated.

"Claire?" Ted exclaimed in surprise at the unexpected name.

Claire Montgomery was the ex-wife of the late Maxwell Lord. She and Booster had become friends during a period when Booster had left the League in search of better prospects. Claire had created the short-lived super group called the Conglomerate and although the team no longer existed, Claire and Booster had remained friends.

"I didn't know you still kept in touch." Ted replied.

"She calls me now and then." Booster admitted. "We go out to dinner and that sort of thing. To tell you the truth, I think she misses being apart of the game."

"So what did she tell you about the Arena?" Ted urged, a little ashamed to admit that he was more concerned with what Claire knew rather than her relationship with Booster. Besides, there was time to grill his friend about that later.

"Not much." Booster admitted. "I didn't think it was right to see her now that Catherine and I are a thing." Booster did not want to talk about the intimate relationship he and Claire had shared for a brief time. Even though they parted as friends, Booster wanted nothing to interfere with his growing relationship with Catherine Colbert. He had waited too long for a chance with the French beauty to waste it on dalliances with old loves.

"Call her," Ted said firmly. The tone of his voice indicated that he would tolerate no argument from Booster on this matter. They simply did not have the luxury of minding Booster's sensibilities when two lives and perhaps even more might be at stake.

"Ted..." Booster started to speak but then thought better of it. "Okay, I'll call her."

Within minutes, Booster was on the phone to Claire Montgomery. Unsurprisingly, Claire was still in her office when he called. She was the atypical 90's career woman who felt the need to work twice as hard to be considered half as good. During their brief relationship, Booster had decided that Claire relied on that fallacy to justify being a workaholic. Her dedication to her career was part of the reason they had gone their separate ways. Booster was not as committed to a career as she was.

"Booster Gold," Claire exclaimed. "Twice in as many weeks, I am honoured."

Booster tried not to sound uncomfortable but he could not help it. Normally, he would have little trouble charming women, well except Catherine. However, Claire was similarly gifted in that she was able to see through his debonair persona to the person beneath the image. "Claire, I need to ask you a question." He decided that there was no reason to deceive her. Claire was better at it anyway.

"I sense something important." She retorted smoothly.

"It is very important." Booster confirmed. "Do you remember that invitation to the Arena?"

"The one you turned me down for?" Claire responded, unwilling to let him off so easily.

"That one," Booster responded, starting to squirm. "Claire, I need to know what it is."

Claire paused for a moment. She sensed real concern in his voice that stripped away any desire to keep playing her little game. Claire Montgomery knew how to play it straight when it mattered. "I'm not sure myself Booster." She replied honestly. "I got an invitation because I expressed a passing curiosity when I was a cocktail party at Lexcorp about a week ago. From what I understand, you get to go to the Arena by invitation only and you are expected to have your chequebook. I expect it's a private game that's being held in town. The guests are all very rich, very influential and of a certain type. Risk takers, boardroom gamblers, you know the kind."

Booster nodded. He did know the type she meant. The invitees to the Arena had to be rich and unafraid of taking chances. The kind of people who decided hunting rhino in Africa was worth the extinction of the species in exchange for the rush of killing such a rare animal. "Do you still have the invitation?" Booster inquired after a moment.

"I was told to be discreet." Claire remarked. "And I don't think the invitation is transferable."

"Claire," Booster let out a deep breath. "I need that invitation." He said simply. "Guy Gardner is missing and we believe this Arena has something to do with it."

There was another pause but Booster knew Claire well enough to realise that it was not hesitation but rather shock at how sinister events had crept into her life without her knowing. Claire liked being in control of all situations. She would not accept the entry of something so unsavoury into her life without her knowledge. It left her feeling vulnerable. Claire hated being vulnerable.

"It's yours.' She said simply. "It's yours."

CHAPTER SIX

I

The gravel underneath the tyres of the limousine heaved as the vehicle drove over it. Pieces of loose dirt scattered as the dark chariot moved through the night. During the day, the waterfront district was a hive of activity. People came and went by the dozens, dock workers, stevedores, sailors and captains. They were undisputed masters of this domain. However, as then sun began to set behind the horizon of the sea so many of them worshipped, they sought temporary solace in the city. It was permissible to abandon the domain for more creature comforts.

In their absence, the domain was easy prey for those who wanted the security of its deserted warehouses and darkened alleys. In the night, this was hardly a safe place and in every corner lurked the whisper of danger. Those who wanted a reality far removed from the opulence of their normal existence came here to touch a part of themselves most would rather let alone. They arrived in their stretched limousines, their shiny BMW's and exotic foreign cars.

Headlights followed one another through the silent streets, like ghosts on spectral march as they converged at a common destination. Like worshippers at an altar, the cars came to a stop outside the largest building at the docks. During the day, it was responsible for the transportation of goods from ships arriving from the Four Corners of the world. Now, it had a darker purpose.

Ted Kord stepped out of the Mercedes he had rented for the night, surprised by how many faces he recognised among the guests. There were playboys and senators, tycoons and movie stars. Apparently, the organisers of the games felt no need to discriminate, as long as the money was there. He adjusted his bow tie of his tuxedo before proceeding to open the door for Zatanna.

She was dressed elegantly as always, in a flowing velvet gown. Although she was dressed for the occasion, anyone else who looked at her would have seen the visage of Claire Montgomery. As Zatanna had explained to him, she had cast a minor glamour over their party so they could fit into this gathering without suspicion. If Ted looked in the mirror, he would see himself but others would see millionaire playboy, Bruce Wayne. Ted had it on good authority that Wayne was currently travelling the country, trying to raise support for the reinstatement of Federal aid to the devastated Gotham City.

"Look at this group." Booster declared as he stepped out of from the back of the car. "There's a lot of money here tonight."

"I still wish I knew what this had to do with Guy's disappearance." Beatriz grumbled. Like Ted and Zatanna, Booster and Beatriz were also disguised. Guests would look at them and see a world famous super model Katrina and currently popular soap actor, Dirk Foster.

"That's what we're here to find out." Ted retorted as they observed the other guests entering the building. Through the crack of the main doors, Ted caught the glimpse of a power strobe light and wondered what they were in for tonight. He reached for Zatanna's hand and started forward, making a mental note to tell her how awesome she looked, glamour or not. He would have done so earlier if not for the circumstances of their being here. Despite her outward calm, Ted could tell Beatriz was nervous. The prolonged silence of Guy's whereabouts weighed heavily on her. It did not help matters either that Verona and Buck Wargo had been unsuccessful in their investigations with Guy's past enemies.

Entering the building, they were confronted by a huge gorilla of a man, who was inspecting everyone's invitations. Although he was wearing a tuxedo and appeared well groomed, he looked barely a notch above civilised. He was easily nine feet tall, with a protruding jaw and solid, tree trunk like arms. Zatanna offered her invitation because it was addressed to Claire Montgomery.

He looked at the invitation then studied all of them closely, trying to find a reason to bar them admission. "Welcome to the Arena." He said after a moment, obviously unable to find one. His voice was a low rumble and sent shivers down Zatanna's spine when she heard it.

The interior of the building had undergone a considerable transformation, considering that a few short hours ago, this has been a working part of the docks. In the centre of the room was a steel mesh enclosure. The walls of the fence were almost ten feet high and looked like one of those outrageous wrestling rings often used by WWF. Surrounding the structure on all sides were bleachers for the guests. Powerful lighting was aimed in the centre of ring and had all the atmosphere of a prizefight about to begin.

The rest of the floor was carpeted in red, with dealers catering to guests as roulette, blackjack and other gaming tables. Ted swore he could hear the singsong of a slot machine somewhere in all this. There was a bar at the corner of the room, with waitresses in tight black dresses, strolling about serving drinks. Ted also noticed the presence of what looked like a betting parlour for the evening's main event.

"I don't believe this." Booster managed to say. "Its Vegas on the waterfront."

"I don't like the look of that cage." Zatanna responded. Her eyes were fixed on the steel enclosure. The proceedings had sparked a memory within her but those events she remembered were years in the past. It was a coincidence, she told herself, but the knot in her stomach would not go away.

"Who could blame you." Beatriz replied, shivering a little. Something about that enclosure chilled her blood. Actually, it was not just the steel cage; it was the people around it. Although they appeared to be civilised and well bred, there was something about these guests that made Beatriz feel uneasy. It would take nothing but a gentle nudge to strip away the polished veneer to reveal something more sinister beneath the surface.

"Look mingle," Ted instructed quietly. "We're here to nose around a bit."

"Come on Bea," Booster offered her his arm. "Its not everyday I get to be a famous actor. Let's take these identities out for a spin."

"I'm here to find Guy." Beatriz said gruffly.

"I know," Booster returned unperturbed by her manner because he knew she was worried about Guy. "But to do that, we can't seem out of place."

"All right," the Brazilian woman conceded. "Lead the way Dirk."

Zatanna and Ted were already crossing the floor towards the roulette table. Whatever main event was scheduled for the night did not appear to be starting for a while and this was a good chance to learn all they could about this establishment. Ted however, noticed Zatanna was somewhat preoccupied.

"Something wrong?" He inquired as he removed two tall glasses from the tray of a passing waitress.

"Nothing really," Zatanna shrugged. Judging from his expression, Zatanna knew he did not believe her. It was disconcerting for a magician to have someone read her so well, disconcerting and at the same time, fulfilling.

In the last month or so, Ted and Zatanna had been spending weekends together. Since he was mostly based in Las Vegas at the corporate headquarters of Lightspeed Entertainment and Zatanna resided in New England, they often met in New York. The arrangement was suitable for both since neither wanted their relationship to proceed any faster than necessary. Ted was enjoying getting to know Zatanna and he realised that she appreciated not being rushed. As self-assured as she could be in all things magic, emotionally she was vulnerable as any woman forced to live such an unusual life. Ted knew he cared for her a great deal and it was a mystery what she saw in him. However, it was obvious something truly wonderful could emerge if they allowed it time to develop.

"This seems familiar." Zatanna admitted.

"Tell me about it," Ted retorted taking a sip of his wine. A good year, he mused before continuing. "When I heard about this place, I couldn't get it out of my mind. I knew I heard about it somewhere before but I couldn't remember."

"Do you know now?" She asked.

"It was one of those fund raisers I was at recently," Ted answered. "I overheard some rich asshole talking about it, how it was suppose to be the living end of everything. Of course, he clammed up when I approached."

"That's why it's good to have a secret identity." Zatanna pointed out. "He probably didn't want Ted Kord finding out about this little party, or more accurately, Blue Beetle."

"I can't figure it out thought," Ted admitted, allowing his gaze to sweep across the room. "Even if it is an illegal fight, why all the secrecy? There's enough money to sweep all this under the rug even if the cops did know and what has this do with Guy and Kevin Sharpe."

"I don't know." Zatanna replied. She was glad he did not pursue her about her familiarity with the Arena. She prayed to whatever spirits that granted prayers that she was wrong about her suspicions.

II

It was quite evident that although the patrons were content to amuse themselves at the gaming tables, their main reason for attending the night's activities was for the event yet to take place. Eventually, the powerful strobes above the ring came alive as the lighting elsewhere began diminishing gradually. Guests moved to the bleachers, eager for the entertainment to begin, unconcerned at simple wooden seats that would have given rise to complaints had they been anywhere else.

The Crusaders felt similar anticipation themselves. However, the reasons for their anxiety had to do with the friend who was missing and the answers the arena would provide them in aiding his recovery. It was impossible however, to be immune to the thrill or excitement in the air as the lights dimmed around them. The single focus of the room became the steel fenced ring, glaring under power white lights. The expectation charged the air as voices fell silent and all eyes were locked onto that one place.

Ted Kord looked around him. It was now difficult to see the faces of the other guests. He caught glimpses of a face here and there, reflected by the light but unquestionably, his gaze kept returning to the empty arena. In what seemed an eternity, a lone figure stepped into the centre of the ring. The man was dressed in a white tuxedo, with a face that reminded him of a used car salesman. The MC stood in the centre of the spotlight, an expression of exultation on his face as he looked at his audience.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he began. Even his voice sounded fabricated. "The establishment is honoured at your presence and we trust you have enjoyed the evening's distractions."

There was a rumble of approval from the audience and the Crusaders began to feel uneasy about the dangerous complacency of the patrons. Nevertheless, for the moment, they watched and waited.

"Tonight, we have a special fight." The master of ceremonies continued. "From the dawn of human existence, we have been preyed upon by the greatest of hunters, the big cats. Can you imagine what it must have been for our early ancestors, to have their fates decided by a pair of glowing eyes and flash of teeth? Even now, our fear is so great that we have been forced to create smaller version of the original, to make slaves of as retribution for the blood spilt. So, in the spirit of that conquest and to remind ourselves that we are undisputed masters of our domain, I give you the battle of the big cats."

He stepped back grandiosely just as a powerful roar was heard throughout the warehouse. Undoubtedly, the sounds were amplified by electronics but the authenticity could hardly be ignored. From the corner of his eye, Ted saw the creature lumber into the ring. It moved like silk, muscles rippling under its exquisite coat.

"That's a cheetah." Booster hissed.

Not any ordinary cheetah, Ted wanted to say but did not waste energy on speaking when he was observing the creature so closely. It was the biggest cheetah he had ever seen. Had it stood on its hindquarters, it would easily be more than seven feet tall. Its tail swung around languidly but what captured Ted's attention most was not that it was so huge, but that it entered the arena without any assistance from a handler. It seemed to know what was expected of it. As it appeared in the arena, the crowd started to cheer and yet the animal seemed unperturbed by the attention. Instead, it allowed its eyes to move across the faces, studying the audience as closely as it was being studied.

"And now for our second contestant." The GMC's voice broke into Ted's ears again. "The Establishment spends no expense to bring you the ultimate in entertainment, I give you a most ancient enemy."

Another animal stepped into the arena with similar fanfare. Ted blinked, unable to believe his eyes for an instant. Surely this was a trick. Amazing things could be done with prosthetics these days. This must be an elaborate hoax. However as he saw the creature move, he knew it was no trick. The crowd's roar became deafening until it drowned out the sound of the world.

"That can't be!" Zatanna exclaimed, her voice could barely be heard over the crowd.

But it was. It was a sabre-tooth tiger.

For the next twenty minutes, the house lights were switched on as guests went to place their bets. In the meantime, Ted was watching the creatures in the arena. To maintain the ruse, he instructed Zatanna to go make a bet. The idea of gambling on blood sports did not amuse her. Unfortunately, they were here for a reason. As odious as it was to allow these animals to tear each other apart, to interfere would be to lose any chance of finding Guy Gardner. Their only chance was to wait until the fight was over and then follow the MC to his master.

"Look at them." Ted said to Beatriz as they waited for Zatanna and Booster to return. "They're just sitting there."

Beatriz could see what he found so unusual. Both the deadly predators, known for their aggressive behaviour as hunters, regarded each other unlike any animals she had seen. They remain in their corners, making no move towards each other although there was nothing to prevent them even if they wanted. Either they were extremely well trained or the relationship between the big cats was sorely mistaken.

"I don't like this." Beatriz replied. "Its too creepy."

"Not to mention politically incorrect." Ted remarked.

Beatriz threw him a look. "Are you ever a grown up?" She retorted before facing the arena again.

"I thought I was doing okay," Ted joked. "I actually wore the right colour socks this time."

"How do you think they managed to get a hold of a sabre tooth?" She asked, admiring the creature. Other than artist's renderings, the world had never seen a sabre tooth tiger. If the creature were to die here tonight, they never would. It was larger than the cheetah, with its famous extended teeth jutting forward with lethal intention. Its pelt was tawny and yet she could see the movement of every muscle as it paced up and down the corner.

"I don't know." Ted answered honestly. "After Jurassic Park, nothing is impossible."

"You think they cloned it?" She asked.

"We can't even keep animals from our era alive in this day and age, I doubt that a creature like that could survive without man's interference for the last twenty thousand years." Ted retorted.

The house lights were dimmed once the bets were placed. The MC stepped into the arena and faced the audience once again. The creatures in the ring made no move towards him and the feat garnered a hearty round of applause from those watching. The MC bowed as if he was not the least bit worried that he was standing in between too ferocious predators. Not that he needed to worry; neither of the cats seemed inclined to approach him.

"Let the games begin." He replied loudly, letting the words escaped him as an explosion of cheering began.

As he withdrew from the ring, the two opponents slowly emerged from their respective corners. The roar of the crowd had shrunk into utter silence as the cats began to circle each other, teeth bared. While all eyes were on the fight, Ted looked at the audience. In the darkness, he could see the glint of their eyes and was somewhat taken back by what he saw in them. They were mesmerised by the moment. He had seen similar expressions once before, on a documentary about Hitler. Ted could see the same look on these people as he saw on the Fuhrer's loyal disciples.

His attention snapped back to the arena as a large roar signalled the beginning of combat between the two creatures. The cheetah moved like lightning, its lashed out in a flurry of movement to quick to see. Although considerably smaller than the sabre tooth, its speed and agility gave it an advantage. It struck the sabre tooth across the face in a multitude of rapid strikes before withdrawing.

The sabre tooth roared in defiance and rage. Its powerful bellow filling every corner of the makeshift amphitheatre. The ancient cat leapt forward in a powerful lunge, surprising the cheetah enough to land on it. As the smaller cat tried desperately to move out of the way, the sabre tooth lowered its enormous teeth. There was a shriek of pain as the teeth sank deep through the cheetah's body. Ted flinched as he saw a crimson stain expanding from the gored wound.

The cheetah was far from done however and as the sabre tooth raised its head to remove his teeth, the younger cat took the opportunity to escape.

"Ted, we can't let this go on." Zatanna whispered in his ears.

"I don't like it either," he replied. "But this place may be our only chance to find out what happened to Guy."

He could see the helpless pain in her eyes at being unable to help either creature but Zatanna knew he was right. The reality of their situation was simply this, they had no idea who had kidnapped Guy or Kevin Sharpe. As horrible as this spectacle was, they had to allow it to continue to learn its secrets. If the Crusaders were to interfere now, whoever had Guy would disappear and they would never find their leader.

By now, the floor of the ring was drenched in blood as the cheetah made its desperate bid for survival. Its injuries had slowed it down considerably and thus eliminated its only advantage over a superior opponent. The sabre tooth did not strike as many times as the cheetah because it was slower, but its claws were almost as devastating as its extended teeth and did much damage upon contact. The more it struck, the further it drove the cheetah into the corner and even the younger animal knew that it was going to lose.

Perhaps in a desperate bid for survival, the cheetah lunged out of its corner and sank its sharp teeth into the sabre tooth's left flank. It dug its long claws into the older cat's flesh and hung for dear life as the sabre tooth tried desperately to shake the cheetah off. However, the cheetah was not about to let go when doing so would mean death. As its teeth hung firmly to the sabre tooth, blood began to spatter across its face until the spots on its magnificent coat were obscured by crimson.

"I can't look at this." Ted heard Beatriz and saw her dropping her gaze to her feet. He too wished he could escape this carnage as the roars of both creatures filled the air.

The cheetah hung on, proving its endurance as the larger cat tried desperately to shake it off. Blood and spittle went flying in all directions as they continued the combat, urged on by the screaming crowds around them. Ted could almost hear his heart pounding as he watched the animals made their bid for supremacy or survival if they understood the outcome.

Surprisingly enough, it was the sabre tooth that finally yielded. As the loss of blood and the continuous pain wore it down, the creature dropped to the floor. The cheetah had not let go and when the sabre tooth was down, sank the claws of its hindquarters into its opponent's soft belly. After a moment, the sabre tooth no longer struggled and as its head lopped to one side and its eyes glazed over, Ted could almost see the resignation to its fate and the sour scent of defeat. The cheetah clung on until the sabre tooth moved no more and after a few minutes of silence, delivered its final blow when it tore the immobile creature's throat open.

None of the Crusaders could speak as a pool of blood began to form beneath the dead animal's body. The cheetah lumbered back into its corner as the fight was done, bleeding from its own injuries. The aftermath that followed the end of the conflict was an eruption of sound as the audience clapped and cheered the end of the gladiatorial exhibition. Ted looked at the audience and saw no remorse for either of the creatures on anyone's face. All he could see was a delicious pleasure in their eyes over the spectacle of seeing magnificent animals brutalising each other in a barbaric display. For a moment, Ted was at a loss to name which species was more savage, the great cats who had just fought or the humans who revelled in the performance.

His companions were similarly sickened by the entire display but shared his regret in having stood by and allowed it happen. Even though each of them had understood that it had was necessary, their conscience would not let them off so easily. At what point had their desire to save Guy Gardner become more important that preventing the loss of life, even if it belonged to animals?

It was question that would haunt them for a long time.

CHAPTER SEVEN

I

It took forever for that incessant clapping and cheering to finally die down. For the Crusaders, that moment could not come soon enough. It was harder to pretend that the performance of the evening had been entertaining rather than sickening, then it was to disguise their true identities. In the aftermath of the fight, the strobe light over the ring disappeared and for the moment, the audience was enveloped in darkness. After a moment, the house lights returned. Taking that a cue that the evening's entertainment had come to an end, most of the audience began to rise from the bleachers.

Some filtered back to the gaming floor, while others went to collect or pay their debts at the booking parlour. In any case, it appeared that the main event for the night had come and gone. Ted looked around to see where the MC had gone but like the cheetah that was now, nowhere in sight, he too had become as elusive. The carcass of the fallen sabre tooth had been removed during the darkness between lights. All there remained of the carnage that had been was the still, wet pool of crimson in the centre of the ring.

"Zee," Ted turned to Zatanna's and asked quietly. "Do you think you could get a blood sample of those animals?"

At the request, her eyes shifted from his face to the ring and then back again at the request. Although he had not mentioned it, Ted did notice that something was clearly disturbing her and in fact, had done so most of the evening. He was tempted to question her further but decided it could wait until they were back on more familiar terrain.

"Why?" She asked, her voice almost a whisper.

"I don't know." Ted answered truthfully. "Something about the way the animals behaved before and during the fight just doesn't feel right. Can you do it?"

It require a minor spell but yes, she was more than capable of living up to the task. "Yes I can." Zatanna nodded. Wasting no time, she turned to the ring once more and considered the spell she would use. After a moment, she had decided and closed her eyes briefly to focus her concentration. ".doolb hserf tilps fo noitrop a reh ot gnirb, arataZ fo rethguad eht roF"

They were now one of the last few people on the bleachers and Ted decided they had better get moving before they were noticed. "Come on, let's get off this thing." He motioned to the others and rose to his feet. The group started moving across the bleachers towards the gaming floor with the rest of the audience.

As they proceeded forward, Ted moved along side Booster. "Booster," he said quietly, making certain no one was eavesdropping on them as he spoke. "I need you to get outside and see where they took that cheetah. It's been hurt badly, so they'll need to get it veterinary attention soon. I'm assuming they'll take the animal back to base. We need to know where that is."

"I see your point." Booster agreed.

"Remember, quiet surveillance." Ted reminded even though he was certain Booster was smart enough to know that. "If they see you, all bets are off."

Booster nodded quickly, knowing perfectly well what was at stake here. He was still seething from having to let those two animals tear at each other, helpless to do anything. Somehow watching endangered animals engaged in such a barbaric practice angered his liberal sensibilities. He wanted to put a stop to it badly.

"I'm on it." Booster replied and was about to break away from the group when suddenly Beatriz spoke up.

"Wait a minute, I want to go with him." She said staring at Ted.

"Absolutely not." Ted said firmly without requiring any time to think it over. "I hate to be the one to tell you this Bea, but you're not exactly inconspicuous. I'm pretty sure they're going to notice a woman made of green fire following them, especially at night. I'm sorry Bea, we can't take the chance of blowing our cover."

"I can't sit down and do nothing." She protested.

"I'm not asking you too." He looked at her and gestured to keep her voice down. "However, we need to keep a low profile. We're no good to Guy unless we can do that. We need to find out where he is and right now, Booster's our best chance."

The defiance on her face melted into vulnerability and Ted could see just how fearful she was for Guy. Letting out a sigh of frustration, Beatriz nodded her acquiescence to Ted's words. He was right and she knew it. "What do I do?" She asked after a moment.

Ted released a sigh of relief, glad that the matter was settled. "I want you to go find Sigrid and tell her that we need a blood sample analysed." He instructed. "Zee and I will meet you both at Star Labs in an hour. " He handed her the keys to the Mercedes. "Take the car, don't attract any attention by flaming on."

"Okay," Beatriz nodded, realising that it was a good suggestion. She took the keys and quickly placed them into her handbag.

They needed an answer on the blood sample fast and Sigrid being a part of Star Labs made things considerably simpler now that they did not have to go through channels. Ted made a mental note at the next Crusader meeting to bring up the point of getting access to a fully equipped laboratory. Although Star Labs was quite accommodating to most superheroes, he preferred Crusader business be kept private. Besides the JLA and the Titans had their own

lab facilities.

Having being given something to do went a long way to calming Beatriz down. The Brazilian woman was never very good at biding her time when her friends were in danger. With Guy, her emotional control was even more unreliable. Ted supposed if it was Zee or Booster, he would probably be the same way. Nevertheless, even after so many years of friendship, Ted still had difficulty getting her to cool her heels when her ire was up. Ted glanced at Booster who was still waiting for further instructions.

"Get going Booster." He ordered gently. Seeing there was nothing further more for him to do here, Booster nodded and made his way out fo the building. His departure provoked little attention as many other patrons were also leaving the premises. Some had remained behind to indulge their gambling tastes at the various tables but for most part, the evening was drawing to a close.

Beatriz remained with Ted and Zatanna long enough to become lost into the crowd before she too, made a discreet exit.

Ted and Zatanna watched her go before he turn they wandered over to the blackjack table. As they pretended to observe the games being played, Ted leaned over to Zatanna and whispered in her ear. "Did you get it?" He inquired.

Zatanna nodded quietly. She opened her little black handbag wide enough for him to throw a discreet glance in its direction. Amongst her lipstick and compact, there was a thin vial of red, sealed carefully with an airtight stopper.

"Good." He mused.

"What's on your mind?" She asked quietly.

"There's something about those animals that doesn't seem right." Ted said softly, making certain no one heard him as he said that. "I can't put my finger on it."

Zatanna understood completely and decided it would soon be time to tell him what she had been dreading all night. If this was in some way connected, he needed to know. However, it could wait until they left this place. If she was right about her suspicions, then it was not wise to let the enemy they were aware of his existence.

********

Booster found a dark alley between the warehouses and changed into his uniform. Although he could still hear the voices of guests in the background, the immediate vicinity was deserted enough to ensure his privacy. Booster slipped on his goggles over his blond hair and adjusted it one his face. After a few seconds, the ensemble was completed and Booster went to work. He immediately leapt into the air and soared high above the alley and the warehouse. The moon was hidden beneath the clouds so the night was pitch black. Only the illumination of the buildings below offered any light through which he could see.

Booster studied the people moving out of the warehouse. Apparently, the evening's entertainment was over and those who still remained were there for the gambling. Through the sea of limousines and exotic cars, Booster saw only one vehicle that appeared out of the ordinary. It was a long, black truck, parked at the rear of the building. He adjusted the magnification of his goggles and the truck grew larger before his eyes. Booster was given a close up view of the proceedings taking place around the vehicle.

Men wearing dark ski masks and overalls were moving a large cage into the back of the truck. Inside the cage, he saw the faint silhouette of the cheetah, lying on its side. Although it did not move, Booster did not believe it to be dead. Its handlers were taking to much care to place it in the truck. No such consideration needed to be taken with the dead sabre tooth, however. Booster did not need to see inside the black body bag, to know that its carcass was being disposed.

Thanks to the moonless night, he was almost completely hidden by the darkness and was able to observe the truck without fear of being seen. Nevertheless, Ted's words of caution against discovery were never far from his thoughts. He wondered if Ted had any idea how well he had assume the role of team leader in Guy's absence. Booster had always suspected such depths in his friend were buried under years of insecurity. For all his genius, Ted still had difficulty believing he was anything more than a second rate superhero. Part of the reason that Booster had little trouble leaving Lightspeed in Ted's ministrations was because he knew Ted was capable of running the company.

And Ted had proved him right time and time again.

The truck had started pulling away from the warehouse and Booster began following its exodus from the waterfront district at a suitable distance. The vehicle was moving at a leisurely pace and did not appear to notice his presence. It was a warm night and Booster was able to keep the truck in his sights without having fly to fast. The wind brushed against his skin as he heard the sound of birds flapping in the distance. Sometimes, it was good to be reminded that there were other inhabitants in this lofty realm.

The vehicle moved across the city and continued westward. He had to concentrate, as it travelled through the maze of New York City for it was easy to lose one vehicle in the criss-cross of roads, streets and highways. As they moved across Union City, Booster wondered just how far the journey would take him. Obviously, those in charge of the arena wanted their location well hidden.

The night air was starting to get colder and he no longer noticed the sounds of wings flapping in the distance. As the truck travelled along 53rd Street, he saw the dim lights of a fast moving train in the distance. Although his focus was mostly on the truck, his attention had begun to waver somewhat as he surveyed the landscape below him. In the near distance, he could see the light bouncing of the New Jersey Shoreline. The truck was moving on the outskirts of Miller Park and at another corner of the landscape, he saw Macphelah Cemetery running parallel against another length of track.

Suddenly, without warning, he heard the loud rush of wind against his ears and looked up in time to see a large set of wings come crashing down on him. Booster rolled in mid-air to avoid the brunt of it but the change in air turbulence sent him spiralling towards the ground. As he quickly resumed control of his descent, Booster recovered enough to hear a high pitch shriek coming at him.

All he could see in the darkness was the silhouette of mighty wings, coming towards him. He reacted quickly, throwing a force field up that immediately halted the progress of the enemy. Trapped inside a solid bubble of energy, the creature shriek in outraged as taloned feet stabbed at its confines. Booster flew forwards, intent on getting a better look at the creature. However, he did not progress any more than a few metres forward when he felt another rush of wind followed by the sharp pain against his side. This time the enemy was closer and had managed to sink its inch long talons into his skin. He felt warm blood on his skin as he raised an arm and fired a blast of energy from his gauntlet.

The blast was intense enough to send the creature flying backwards. Feathers were loosened as it plunged downward and Booster was able to see that it and the one in the force field were not alone. Whatever these flying creatures were, they certainly were not birds. Despite their ornithoid appearance, they were human sized. He counted at least six of them in the air. Booster looked down long enough to see the truck disappear beneath a canopy of trees before the rest of the flock swooped in for their attack.

He released his force field on the creature trapped and blasted it with an energy pulse from his gauntlets. The heat of the weapon set some of its feathers on fire and as it disappeared into the darkness, trailing flames. The others were almost upon him now and they were close enough for him to hold them in the force field. Aiming the field for a wide spread, he concentrated as the invisible bubble engulfed them all.

They reacted like fish in a bowl, slapping hard against the invisible barrier. He saw the confusion that the confinement caused and in that they acted very much like caged animals. There was little thought to their actions as they spent a few seconds aimlessly flinging themselves against wall of energy. Since they appeared to be momentarily immobilised, he took the opportunity to get a closer look at them. He wondered if these creatures could be any relation to the former Leaguer Hawkman but somehow he doubted. Most of that hero's accruement's were artificial but the wings on these birdmen did not seem to be fake. Their movements were too fluid and graceful, even when they were panicked.

Booster approached the energy field as closely as possible when suddenly one of the creatures lunged against the barrier. As Booster pulled back quickly, he caught a glimpse of the birdman's face. Calling them birdmen had not been far from incorrect. Although there were distinctively human features on their faces, Booster could see the dark outline of a hooked beak belonging very much to a bird of prey. Their eyes were wide and without eyelids. Although the feathers on the creature's face were nowhere as thick on normal birds, it appeared to resemble the fine coverings on new-born chicks.

Booster was so astonished that he simply stared at them for a few seconds, before he suddenly remembered the truck. Swinging around but carefully maintaining the force field around the birdmen, he surveyed the landscape for any sign of the dark vehicle.

"Damn!" He swore as there appeared to be no sign of it. It suddenly became clear to him that perhaps his surveillance was not as unnoticed as he had originally believed and the timely arrival of these bird creatures was to allow the truck to escape. He looked at his prisoners and let out a sigh. "Well, maybe we'll some news on you guys, huh?"

Booster was suddenly aware that the birdmen had stopped thrashing about and have become somewhat sedate. He had assumed that they had simply tired themselves out and given up realising that there was no way to escape the force field. However, on closer observation, he realised that they were no longer moving. In fact, they were quickly slipping into unconsciousness. Without wasting any time, Booster immediately descended to firmer ground.

He landed in the darkness of Miller Park and was glad that most people were wise enough to stay out of the place at this time of night. For his purposes, he did not wish to be distracted by innocent bystanders if this was a trick. However, as he deactivated the force field once he had brought his prisoners to the ground, they still remained unmoving. Booster approached them carefully and drop to one knee as he kneeled down on the grass to examine them. He noticed then that they had no arms to speak of and that their wings were as he suspected, real. Their abdomen and their legs were humanoid except their feet were the definitely bird like, if the predatory talons on them were any indicator.

He put his hand to one of their necks to search for a pulse. The birdman's skin was already starting to cool and there was no indication of a heartbeat. Booster stood up with a sinking feeling in his chest, that these creatures were programmed to die in the event of capture. Ted was right, he decided. There was more to the arena than simply illegal animal fights and gambling. The possibility of questioning the prisoners now seemed remote. Perhaps Sigrid would be able to learn something when she examined the bodies…

Any further thought regarding interrogation was driven from his mind when a shrill beeping noise started emanating from all the bodies. For an instance, Booster was unsure of how the sound was being transmitted until he saw an electronic device attached the ankles of all the birdmen. As they increased in pulse, a flash of insight made Booster leap into the air.

He had not risen more than ten feet when a flash of light blinded him from below. An expanding wave of heat surged towards him as he increased his acceleration. He could feel the intensity of it against his skin, even through the protection of his suit. The shock wave propelled him upwards uncontrollably. He looked down long enough to see the explosion engulfing the surrounding park. Trees and grass were incinerated in the expanding wave of fire. The blast radius was only less than a hundred feet wide but from the air it seemed worse. Once he was able escape the currents of force of the shock wave, he surveyed the destruction below him.

In the epicentre of the blast was a small crater of blackened earth. There were no signs of bodies, which Booster gathered was what the exercise was meant to achieve in the first place. The terrain looked like a war zone, with trees slight ablaze along with park benches and any substantial sized bush. The fire made the night sky glow with amber light and Booster hoped that no one else was in the park. He remained long enough to hear the siren of fire engines approaching in the distance before deciding there was nothing more to be done here.

The enemy if anything was quite adept at keeping their secrets.

II

After surviving alien invasions, temporal disturbances, the threat of a dying sun and even the age of the Millennium Giants, the personnel at Star Labs could confess to having seen it all. Star Labs was mostly centred in Metropolis. However, in the past decade since its conception, offices had sprung across the country and were quickly reaching a global platform as the leader of paranormal scientific development.

While normal research facilities still wrestled with concepts like cold fusion and finding cures for cancer, Star Labs were busy decoding the DNA sequences of a dozen alien species. From stock standard Khundian to the more exotic and endangered Kryptonian samples, Star Lab had become the leader in paranormal genetics. Research involved genetic mutation of alien cross breeding, the in depth study of the Oan power ring and more recently, the new emerging field of the Worlogog artefact. A most challenging field considering the object itself was no longer on the planet.

In the face of all this, the Blue Beetle's request to analyse a DNA blood sample seemed rather dull in comparison. As one of its rising new talents, Sigrid was on occasion allowed to pursue her own projects and Star Labs was well aware of her paranormal background. While she had begun her career with them as a research assistant, she was fast proving herself to be a competent scientist who could be trusted to behave in the best interests of the organisation.

Sigrid Nansen was already waiting for her fellow Crusaders by the time they arrived at her laboratory. Although it was hardly the most equipped lab in the building, it was nonetheless far more advanced than anything available at conventional research centres. Allowing her the use of this laboratory exclusively was an act of faith on the part of her employers. Perhaps in her conduct here, could she be evaluated for more important research work.

"How long will it take for you to test it?" Ted inquired once he and Zatanna had joined them.

Sigrid studied the crimson fluid inside the vial. Until about forty minutes ago, she was soundly asleep in her bed. The drowsiness still clung to her eyes and she blinked hard at the vial to shake the sleepiness away. Despite the urgency of the situation, she wished she could have had at least a few hours sleep.

"About two hours." She answered.

"Two hours?" Beatriz whined. Impatience seemed to be her most prominent quality since Guy's disappearance. While Sigrid understood the reasons for her concerns, Beatriz could nonetheless be trying at times.

"Yes, two hours." Sigrid retorted as if she were explaining it to a child. "Be lucky that it is two hours. If it was anywhere else but here, it would take a day." It was not far from the truth. Star Labs equipment was some of the most advanced in the world. The company often used experimental alien technologies to enhance their own equipment. Many of their prototypes had made the company a billion dollar corporation because of the patent rights.

Ted Kord who understood research and scientific methodology better than most, had no complaints. He could see the weariness in her eyes and understood better than most what it was like to hold a day job and still be a superhero. Fortunately, unlike Sigrid he had the freedom to push one aside whenever it was necessary. "We'll be at Booster's penthouse." He answered. "Call us as soon as you have any news."

"Don't worry," Sigrid answered, examining the vial carefully and starting to become lost in the secrets within it. "I won't stop until I have an answer."

"Thank you." Beatriz said placing a hand on her shoulder. Although Beatriz was worried out of her mind for Guy, she understood the effort Sigrid was making for them all.

"Now get out of here." Sigrid replied, "I've got work to do."

************

Ted was awake when the phone rang.

It was almost two o'clock in the morning and until Ted had an answer, sleep would not come. Zatanna and Beatriz had turned in shortly after they had returned from Star Labs. Until Sigrid's call, there was little else that could be done. Both women had taken up the guest room in the penthouse and Booster had yet to return. Although Booster's leather sofa was comfortable enough, Ted found he could not sleep. Mysteries tended to make him the worst kind of insomniac. Instead he switched on the TV and found himself watching a news broadcast about an apparent bomb blast in Miller Park. What was the world coming to these days? Fortunately no one had been hurt but authorities had yet to work out what type of explosives was used.

When the telephone rang next to him, it startled Ted enough to almost fall off the sofa. However, he recovered quickly and picked up the handset

"Sigrid?" He asked automatically, knowing it could only be her at this time of night.

"Hi Ted." She answered and he could tell from her voice that she had made a discovery.

"Did you find anything?" Ted questioned.

There was a slight pause. Clearly, Sigrid had found something. Even though he was not in the room with her, he could sense the apprehension in her manner.

"You were right to be suspicious Ted," she volunteered after a moment. "There is definitely something wrong with those animals."

"What?" His voice was almost a held breath. "Are they mutants or something?"

"In a manner of speaking," she said quietly. "Ted, the DNA suggest that they're not animals at all. They're human."

Anything he was going to say caught in his throat as another thought filled his reality.

Jesus. Guy.

PART TWO

PART THREE

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