Killer Shrike had to admit to being a little jealous. The Lair Legion lived in an opulent mansion in the middle of Parody Sound, a crowning jewel of the city of Parodiopolis. The Abandoned Legion, on the other hand, were an off-the books wet works division of the Legion, and had to remain off the public radar. As such, Killer Shrike had been set up in a small one-bedroom apartment on Romita Boulevard. He didn't know where the rest of the Abandoned Legion spent their time when they weren't on missions; the team was only supposed to contact each other when there was a mission to undertake.

The team had gone on several missions since their clash with Anvil Man. Hatman was really focused on taking out the criminal underworld in Gothametropolis, with the Abandoned Legion taking down several up and coming mob bosses in the crime-infested city. The Plan Master, Hard Head, Gravestone, all had fallen easily beneath the power of the Abandoned Legion. Killer Shrike wasn't even sure why he was needed sometimes; Sersi and Premiere had more than enough raw power between the two of them to carry out the missions Hatman had sent them on.

The two experienced heroes put Simon on edge. They tended to keep to themselves; Simon suspected they were knocking boots on the side. They made sure to include him in all of the missions, but he wasn't sure if it was out of compassion or pity. Killer Shrike may not have had the flashy superpowers that the Austernal and Science Hero could call upon, but he was a professional, and his professional pride didn't like being treated like the junior member of the team.

Maybe that was why he had been so quick to get Citizen Z on board. He knew it made no sense; he knew nothing about the woman currently wearing the mask and wielding the sabre. All he knew was he needed someone in his corner, and he hoped Citizen Z would fit the bill. She had readily accepted his offer to join the team, feeding Simon some story about murdered parents and superstitious cowards. Shrike knew it was a bunch of bull but he couldn't tell what the real story was.

He hadn't seen Hatman in person since their first mission to take out Silvertop. He usually got in touch via a communicator he gave each member of the team. It wasn't even a Lair Legion Communicard, but it did have wi-fi. Shrike wondered if Al B Harper had designed it.

As he sat at his small kitchen table cleaning his talons, the communicator went off. Shrike set the talon down, pulled on his mask, and picked up the communicator. "Show time."

* * * * *

Boss Deadeyes was a man not to be crossed. The resurrected mob boss ran his criminal doings with a merciless efficiency, taking out anybody that stood in his way. He operated from the old school; you treated him right, he treated you right. It was a form of honour and respect that Andredi insisted on upholding despite the slide in integrity in today's modern gangster.

Harvester was also to be feared, but he was not a man, he was a robot. Renegade creation of the Machine Shop, Harvester had spent a few months in Boss Deadeyes employ. The Boss had seen fit to change the automaton's wardrobe; where once he wore coveralls, a straw hat, and bolo tie, Deadeyes had outfitted the horticultural horror in a smart black suit, wingtips, and a wide-brimmed black hat. The bolo tie remained, as always.

While Harvester had originally been sub-contracted into Boss Deadeye's employ through a deal with Doorman, Harvester had quickly rosen to become Vendredi's right hand man. Deadeye's ability to kill with just a touch had no effect on the robot, so Harvester felt no need to sugarcoat his conversations with the Boss. Harvester had no desire to take control of Deadeye's organization, so Vendredi trusted him.

Harvester was seated in front of Vendredi's desk. Shortly after he had joined the organization, Vendredi had arranged for furniture to be brought into his office that could support the weight of the massive robot.

"I don't like this," said Vendredi as he read the latest edition of the Gothametropolis Gazette. He tossed the paper over to his leg breaker. A picture of Frankie Holeville, the mob boss known as Whack-a-Mole, adorned the front page with the caption "Whack-a-Mole Whacked!" screaming at the reader in bold black letters. "Frankie is the fourth guy to get whacked in the past three weeks."

"Ain't nobody getting past me Boss," Harvester assured his employer. The automaton had gone toe-to-toe with the Lair Legion, he was confident in his abilities.

"Anyone gets past you gets dead," Vendredi said darkly. "That ain't my problem kid. This whole situation we got here, it don't make sense."

Harvester shrugged. "New player in town?"

"That's the thing," Vendredi said as he stood from behind his desk. "The boys are getting whacked, and nobody moves in to claim their turf."

"Haven't we been grabbing the new territories?" asked a puzzled Harvester. Less competition was good for business in his mind.

"It's too easy," complained Vendredi. "Why whack a guy if you don't want no piece of his profits?"

"Maybe it's a new superhero in town," mused Harvester.

"Possibly," conceded Vendredi. "But that don't feel right." Vendredi stood with his back to Harvester, viewing his city through his office window. "Keep your ear to the ground, kid. Things are gonna happen, and soon."

* * * * *

Gordon Verge had always been a player in Gothametropolis York. While he had never risen to such prominence as the Lynchpin, Verge had considerable holdings of his own. Like Boss Deadeyes, he was well aware of the hits being taken out on the mob. Unlike Boss Deadeyes, he knew who was doing the job. Unfortunately, the reason he knew was standing right in front of him.

"Make this easy on yourself Verge," said Premiere, who was secretly the supervillain Quake. The supposed science hero had easily walked through Verge's defenses and smashed the expensive oak door to his private office.

"Try not to get blood on the floor rug," cautioned Sersi, more commonly known as the Suicide Blonde. "I call dibs."

Killer Shrike and Citizen Z hung back. Premiere and Sersi were happy to do the dirty work, so Shrike and the mysterious Citizen Z watched the door for additional security.

"Are you sure we cannot talk about this?" asked Verge. "I'd rather not have to renovate when this is all over."

"You're pretty cocky for a dead man," snarled Quake. He reached out and hurled Verge's desk with a flick of his wrist.

"If you insist, we'll do things your way." Verge pressed a small stud on the side of his watch.

The back wall of the office exploded inward, sending Killer Shrike and Citizen Z diving for cover. Five metallic figures stood where the wall had once been.

"I do believe you are familiar with the Machine Shop?" Before any of the Abandoned Legion could respond, Speed Machine blurred forward and whisked Verge out of the building.

"So much for keeping things quiet," muttered Killer Shrike as the Machine Shop launched their attack.

Mean Machine raced forward and barreled into Quake, shoving the time-displaced villain through the exterior wall. The two traded punches as they fell to the street below, neither combatant seemingly worried about the impending impact. Fitness Machine leaped forward, nimbly avoiding Killer Shrike's thrust with his electrified talon. Time Machine focused a localized temporal field on the Suicide Blonde, slowing time around Bambi Bacall and negating her ability to transmutate the Machine Shop into spare parts. Copy Machine split into several duplicates and surrounded Citizen Z.

"C'mere Barbie!" snarled Killer Shrike as he tried to land a blow on Fitness Machine. The slim combat robot flipped and dodged his every attack. Killer Shrike was willing to wager he was as strong or stronger than the agile robot, but his size advantage didn't help if he couldn't lay a hand on her.

Citizen Z struggled to fend off the duplicates of Copy Machine. The robots were keeping her off-balance by striking randomly from different positions, while other duplicates hurled debris at the purple clad Legionnaire. The vigilante’s saber flashed as she deflected the smaller pieces and dodged the others.

Outside, the vicious Mean Machine ripped into Quake while Speed Machine kept him off balance. Quake was more powerful than his opponents; he had regularly proved to be as strong or stronger than Donar, but he was forced to hold back as he needed to keep the collateral damage to a minimum. The Abandoned Legion still needed to keep a low profile.

“Did you really think I would just sit still and wait for you to show up to kill me?” crowed Verge over a closed circuit monitor in his office. “You aren’t dealing with punks trying to live above their station now.”

“Killer Shrike to Hatman,” spoke Maddicks into the radio built into his talon. “We sure could use some caped and capped back-up right about now.”

“You got that right,” snarled Fitness Machine as she pressed her attack.

A blinding flash lit up the room, and when it blinked out, a new player stood revealed. He wore an all black bodysuit, with a golden visor shielding his eyes and gold bands encircling his wrists.

“Boss man couldn’t make it,” he said with what looked like a wicked grin; the full face mask made it hard to tell. “Hope I’ll do.”

“Goldeneyed, is that y-urk!” Shrike tried to ask before Fitness Machine managed to land a kick to his jaw.

“In the flesh,” agreed the teleporting Legionnaire. “Though I didn’t realize when Hatman asked me to tag along I’d be joining amateur hour.”

“Amateur h-ow!” protested Shrike as Fitness caught him in the ribs.

“Yeah, amateur hour.” Goldeneyed decked a Copy Machine duplicate that turned its attention to him. “You guys need to switch partners.”

“Agreed,” said Citizen Z as she vaulted over Goldeneyed to engage Fitness Machine. Her saber lashed out and the automaton deflected the strike with her armored wrist band. Fitness Machine then detached a steel skipping rope from her waist. A high pitched whine filled the air as it crackled with electricity.

“Uh-uh,” tsked G-Eyed as he teleported the battery pack out of the rope. “Play nice.”

Shrike lashed out at the nearest duplicate of Copy Machine, and landed his strike on the slower robot. The electrical power from his talons disrupted the duplicate and caused it to disappear.

“Now that’s more like it,” snarled Killer Shrike as he unleashed a flurry of attacks into the Copy Machine’s.

“See, you guys just need a little leadership,” said Goldeneyed as he focused his attention on Time Machine. “Let’s see how you do without your power pack.”

Goldeneyed reached out with his teleportation powers and removed Time Machine’s power pack. He was surprised to see another one instantly appear to take its place.

“That will not work, fleshling,” bragged Time Machine. “Any attempt to remove my parts will cause a back-up to instantly shift here from the future.”

“We’ll see about that,” said Goldeneyed as he began to rapidly teleport away various pieces of the automaton. As promised, new parts phased into existence as quickly as they disappeared, leaving the Suicide Blonde stuck in the temporal field.

“Ready to give up?” asked the automaton.

“Sure. Ready to not be distracted?” grinned Goldeneyed.

Before Time Machine could react, Killer Shrike struck from behind. His electrified talons scored a large gouge in the automaton’s shell.

“This will not stop me for long,” Time Machine assured her opponents.

“Long enough,” growled the Suicide Blonde. Before Time Machine could react the faux-Austernal lashed out with her power and turned the robot into confetti.

“That won’t hold her for long,” Bacall told her teammates. “I can feel her parts trying to shift in from other time periods. But I can hold her for a short time. Help Premiere.”

“What about Fitness Machine?” asked Shrike. He had lost track of Citizen Z in all the commotion.

“I think Citizen Z has it well in hand,” Goldeneyed assured him. “Let’s go.”

In a flash of light Goldeneyed and Killer Shrike appeared on the street below, where Quake was still struggling with his opponents. Were Quake as fast as the real Premiere he would have dealt with them easily, but Speed Machine was proving to be too elusive, which allowed Mean Machine to stay on him.

“Let’s see how Speed Machine does with a pair of cement overshoes,” said Goldeneyed as his visor glowed. Speed Machine found himself slowed to a crawl as cement formed over his feet. “Take him out fast Shrike,” commanded the Legionnaire.

“I don’t need him to deal with you,” snarled Mean Machine as he tried to maintain his advantage over Quake.

“In your dreams.” The villain from the future cracked his knuckles before launching a haymaker that took Mean Machine’s head clean off.

Speed Machine was built for movement, not trading blows back and forth. Killer Shrike made short work of him.

“Are you sure Citizen Z is alright?” checked Shrike.

Before Goldeneyed could respond, the prone form of Fitness Machine crashed into the pavement at his feet. Shrike looked up to see Citizen Z looking down on him from the hole in the wall above. She gave a little salute with the tip of her sword.

“Verge got away,” Shrike reminded G-Eyed. “Hatman’s not going to like it.”

“You let me deal with Hatman,” Goldeneyed told him. “Let’s drop these guys at the Safe, have Sersi repair the wall, and be on our way.”

The Abandoned Legion quickly made their escape well before the police sirens began to wail in the night.

* * * * *

“He got away.” Doorman wasn’t pleased.

“I told you boss, your team lost him well before I showed up,” the black-suited Legionnaire told him. “Shoulda brought me in earlier.”

“If I could have tracked you down earlier I would have,” Doorman replied snidely. “Any clue on who Citizen Z might be?”

“Not yet,” said G-Eyed. “Give me some time.”

“It’s almost time to move to the next phase. Does Killer Shrike suspect anything Space Warped?” asked Boaz.

The dimension-hopping villain laughed. “Nah, he’s clueless. Soon as your ready we can make our move.”

“Excellent.” Doorman tipped his glass to his companion. “To the leader of the Abandoned Legion!”

* * * * *

“He got away?” Hatman was pleased.

“Before I even showed up,” the black-suited Legionnaire told him. “Why’d you wait so long to bring me in on this?”

“If they found you too easily it would have sent up a red flag,” Hatman replied. “Any clue on who Citizen Z might be?”

“Not yet,” said G-Eyed. “Give me some more time.”

“It’s almost time to move to the next phase. Do they suspect anything, ‘Space Warped’?” asked Boaz.

The teleporting superhero laughed. “Nope, they’re clueless. Soon as your ready we can make our move.”

“Excellent.” Hatman tipped his hat to his companion. “To the leader of the Abandoned Legion!”


To be continued...