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Chapter 53 - The Beginning
🕑 Added 2025-12-24 18:01:20 +0000 UTCWashington, D.C.
Bugging the Oval Office was laughably easy with advanced technology.
Miles found a target first by having Zalika comb the social media for any posts about a White House tour. An Australian tourist will be in the U.S. next week, all too happy to share his fortune in a short video.
The bugs were planted on him in his hotel. Zalika found the man’s room number in the hotel’s system, and Miles just flew them inside one by one, waiting until the day of the tour. Hidden under his collar, the tourist took the bugs inside, with no one the wiser.
In observation mode, the NEXTINSECT could stay powered for a whole twenty-four hours, and at night, it would siphon power from the available appliances.
Within the same day, Claire and Baraka had a relay hidden inside the walls of an old building Miles bought.
Zalika had the first stream of information within hours.
—
“Cadmus?” Miles slammed the brakes, pulling the car to the side. “Why am I not surprised?”
“Another secret government organization trying to weaponize metahumans,” Claire sneered, eyes narrowed with a dangerous glint.
“The one reporting, her last name is Waller.”
“Amanda Waller,” he connected the dots. The number one go-to person of the United States government for secret, illegal, and highly unethical operations, Waller had to be dealt with in a specific manner.
Dead, she was a martyr at worst or easily replaced at best.
Brought to the daylight, her crimes revealed, ridiculed, and laid low, Waller would be a corrupt and monstrous government officer. The president would be forced to shut Cadmus down or face severe public backlash, and all personnel affiliated with the program would either retire or be reassigned elsewhere.
When she was rotting in prison, Amanda might be cajoled into taking the honorable way out.
In time.
“They are close to acquiring a sample from somewhere. Not clear on what it is. They didn’t name the contact either,” Zalika reported. Cadmus had interest in acquiring many things, but there was one target, always a constant.
“Check Dr. Krill in Star Labs, Metropolis,” he ordered. Dr. Krill was the only one in the lab willing to cross the ethical and legal boundaries. Delivering Superman and Supergirl’s DNA to a foreign party in return for tools or samples would be something she wouldn’t hesitate to do.
“She put in a request for two days leave. It was approved for yesterday and today.”
“Meaning she is about to make the transaction.” Miles closed his eyes. Even if he left now, he would barely make it back to Metropolis at sunset.
The deal was most likely over by now.
“Find me Dr. Krill’s home address,” he said before ending the call.
If he could not stop the transaction from taking place, he would ruin Krill’s plans.
—
Metropolis
Targen Street
“Aren’t we going in?” Claire raised an eyebrow. It was fun to greet the targets inside their homes.
“No,” Miles clicked his tongue, “I am not in the habit of terrorizing children, only monsters. We’ll take Krill before she comes in,” he said.
Dr. Jennifer Krill had five children from three fathers, with the eldest, Abner Krill, sixteen, and the youngest, just eight. Everyone except Abner would die to her experiments.
If he did nothing, of course.
A Prius pulled up to the porch, and their target came stumbling out with a heavy briefcase in her hand.
Two of his men moved from the shadows, one covering her mouth and pushing a knife under her neck, while the other took the briefcase.
In the cover of the night, the oversized woman was dragged into the limo, trembling and crying. The men pushed her inside and took the seats next to her.
“Dr. Krill,” he greeted the teary-eyed woman and took the briefcase. “It has recently come to my attention that you delivered something to U.S. government operatives. I need to know what it was.”
Confirmation was necessary.
Krill looked around wildly, tears still streaming down her face, but did not speak. However, the crocodile tears would not move him.
“The silent treatment, doctor? Very well,” Miles said.
He knew exactly what to do to make her talk.
“We had a neighbor like you when I was around eight years old,” he said, fiddling with the locked briefcase. “He was obsessed too, but with conspiracy theories rather than turning children into superheroes. He would constantly shout about how the government had drugs in the water to make us obese or released viruses to the atmosphere for mind control.”
His lips curved upwards at the memory, but it did not reach his eyes.
“In my opinion, he gave the government too much credit,” he said. The briefcase flicked open, revealing a dozen vials with different colored substances inside. Red, pink, purple, and even a multicolored one.
He took the last vial and gave it a shake.
“One day, he ran out of his hovel, screaming that the government had poisoned him, and started to regurgitate a black sludge. It was quite the disturbing sight.” He shook his head at the memory.
“He died on the pavement, with no one to help the obsessed madman.”
Miles had asked his mother if they should do something, but she was in one of her drunk stupors.
It was the first time he had seen someone die before his eyes.
“The news ran a story about it. Our resident conspiracy theorist had caught a superbug from his homemade filtration system using recycled parts,” he explained.
Putting the vial in the injector, he waved it, looking the woman dead in the eyes.
“I wonder, Dr. Krill, what these viruses will do to you?” He asked.
The mercenary on Krill’s left pushed her arm forward. The woman began to thrash like a caged animal, but it was futile.
“DNA samples. I gave them Superman and Supergirl’s DNA samples,” she screamed as the needle inched ever closer to her arm.
Not that he was actually going to inject her with an interdimensional virus and risk catching it.
Krill was forthcoming after that, revealing where the exchange had taken place, the make and plate of the car the agents had, their contact methods, and the time of the exchange.
The phone numbers were no longer operational, and the vehicle had disappeared from sight in a blind spot in the CCTV and did not appear again.
Cadmus had taken security seriously.
It was not all over yet, however. He still remembered some locations of Cadmus from the show and would need to investigate them for any trace of the samples.
Though, if Connor was cloned before he could retrieve the samples…
In return for the DNA samples, she had been given the vials that should have been destroyed by Star Labs, yet somehow ended up in the hands of Cadmus.
Miles had no choice but to hope that Cadmus scientists weren’t ignorant enough to hand out these potentially world-ending viruses without taking precautions.
He surrendered the woman to the police on the charges of child endangerment and abuse. The social services took the children into custody, and the siblings were out of the clutches of their mother.
Once Star Labs brought the files in her computer forward, Dr. Krill would have the additional charge of developing a bioweapon.
She would go away for life without parole.
—
Watchtower
He returned to the tower with the viruses in hand, looking for any member that could take the briefcase to the sun. He would do it himself, but the Javelin did not have a trash chute to eject the case.
“Green Lantern, I need your help,” Miles requested. “Would you mind tossing this to the sun?” He held the briefcase out.
Who knew what these viruses potentially from another dimension could be capable of? An incinerator may not do the job, but the scorching heat and gravitational pull of a star is another matter.
“Sure, but what’s in it?” Just to be sure, he created a thick, airtight box around the briefcase.
Miles wouldn’t want an empty case to be disposed of in such a manner.
“Viruses from different dimensions,” he said. There was a limit to the weapons he was willing to employ.
The ones in his hands were not below that.
Green Lantern created another layer over the case in return, “Damn it. Was someone making bioweapons?” His face was scrunched, as if he bit a whole lemon in half. The former marine had heard how the government agents were specifically looking for the kryptonite in Metallo’s chest.
No need to guess why.
“Just an obsessed lunatic interested in having superheroes as children,” one that would spend the rest of her life in prison, Miles thought to himself.
He would keep an eye on her should anyone move to break the scientist out.
“You know what, I don’t want to know.” John raised his hand. “Let me just get rid of this first.” He flew out of the observation deck, leaving Shayera alone with him.
“My apologies for interrupting your date,” he said to Hawkgirl, who watched John leave with narrowed eyes.
“It wasn’t a date,” she rebuked. These days, whenever the two had some free time, he would always see the Thanagarian and the human spend time together.
It was heartwarming.
Miles smirked, “I hope not. The Watchtower shouldn’t be anyone’s idea of a romantic location, except for the view.”
A place where every member of the League came and went all day long wouldn’t give love the chance to bloom.
Hawkgirl rolled her eyes. “Where would you suggest?”
“I do have an excellent beachside property in Hawai’i. If you two ever consider a getaway, let me know,” Miles winked.
Hawkgirl huffed and left the table.
—
The Pentagon was the next natural target to infiltrate.
All it took was a pizza order. Ordering two pepperoni pizzas with drinks in the highest-rated pizzeria, Miles just waited until someone from the Pentagon placed an order. The NEXTINSECTs had moved from the phones to hide in the bag carrying the large cokes.
Leaving just as the delivery boy turned on his bike, the bugs were inside the most secure place in the United States after the boxes had passed the security.
It was satisfying to use the extremely advanced sci-fi genre technology for a purpose other than causing mass destruction.
—
His spree had to stop for now.
Currently available NEXTINSECTs were all stationed in perfect places, and he would have to wait until Thomas prepared the next batch.
That and this little excursion had cost over ten million dollars already. Thirty-five NEXTINSECTS, with six relays from Metropolis to Los Angeles, and the one in Washington, D.C., were worthwhile but expensive to manufacture.
At least he knew what the president would be having for dinner.
Medium-rare sirloin with a glass of Chardonnay.
—
Batman had his Batcave, Superman had his Fortress of Solitude, and Aquaman had an entire kingdom as his base.
Miles needed one of his own too.
A place to hide the supercomputer that would be the heart of his intelligence gathering. It had to be remote, undiscoverable, and defensive. A cave like Batman’s wasn’t a location he could dwell in, and a random building in Metropolis was just an invitation for a villain to wreck the place in a fight.
The safest place would be underground.
Entirely closed off from the rest of the world with teleporters and a single escape hatch in case of an emergency. Life support systems, hydroponics if necessary, and androids for security detail and maintenance.
At least, that was his idea before the Lady Muse came in the form of a cartoon show. A quadcopter with a figure glued on top as a child played with the toy.
Mobility was a valuable capability as well.
—
Metropolis
EnviroCorps Robotics Research Center
“Thomas, how is my favorite scientist doing?” Miles asked. The android was sitting before a table, working on the bugs, when he entered the lab.
“If you are here to badger me about the bugs, I am working on it,” the android waved his hand without even turning around.
“That breaks my heart,” Miles put his hat over the left side of his chest. “When have I ever badgered you?”
The android stopped, looking up, “You are right. You only came to give me new and more difficult tasks,” before he continued his work.
“That, I can’t deny,” Miles chuckled. Perhaps he should find researchers for Thomas to offload some of his work.
Done with the NEXTINSECT he was working on, Thomas pushed his chair back. “What do you want me to make now?”
“Something too grand for one person,” Miles informed. “I need you to increase the scale of your manufacturing operation.”
“How much?”
“Enough for a mobile base, capable of underwater and air travel, with a legion of androids, the supercomputer, and all the necessary systems,” he revealed. In essence, it was a carrier capable of operating anywhere across the planet.
Thomas raised his hand over his mouth, looking at the ground. It was a gesture too human; a part of the real Thomas was left inside the android.
“Five billion dollars,” Thomas said, having calculated the estimated cost of the project, “and only after I finish the satellite and the supercomputer,” he added.
“Done,” Miles agreed.
It would leave him with only around four billion dollars.
The cost would likely increase, but his resources were practically unlimited.
—
Time was valuable.
Incredibly so, especially to entities with limited life spans. Seconds could be the deciding factor between life and death. Thousands could die in minutes.
Wars could be waged in hours, and day by day the world changed in unrecognizable ways.
One day, the Earth was a distant and backward planet, unbothered by the cosmic conflicts, and the next, extraterrestrials had invaded, prompting three aliens, a former marine with a power ring, the fastest man alive, an Amazonian from Earth’s myths, and a man in a bat costume to intervene.
Days later, Earth had the Justice League, and the previous sense of normalcy was upended.
It made the value of time even more apparent.
The capability to move from one side of the planet to the other in the blink of an eye would be invaluable. The faster the response to alien invasions, metahuman activity, and natural disasters was, the more lives could be saved.
It was a secret project the EnviroCorps was working on, assisted by their Thanagarian allies, and the end was in sight. A project that would have taken years, maybe decades, even with the advanced tech of the Earth in this universe.
Reduced to less than a year long.
The time gained was priceless.
Next month, the tests would start, and Miles wanted to be there. To see with his eyes fiction becoming reality.
Then again, he was in a fictional universe, but the idea of something as foreign as teleportation had excited him like a child on Christmas Eve.
He could not wait.
