by Libbylawrence
The Crime Syndicate had departed from the Capitol, and they now assembled in a cavern outside a Rhode Island town called Happy Harbor.
“Welcome to the Eyrie of Evil, gentlemen,” said Owlman.
“How quaint,” sneered Microbe.
“It’s rustic, but secure,” replied Owlman.
“Why don’t we crash at stately Wayne Manor?” said Johnny Quick.
“Because I wish that part of my life to remain separate from our endeavors. Gotham City is mine alone,” said a bitter and coldly toned Owlman.
“Hey, what — are you afraid your boy-toy will hit on Legs, here?” snapped Johnny.
Owlman moved like the predator he was named after, and in one swift movement he had flattened the speedster. “Don’t ever make that kind of crass comment again,” he said.
Johnny Quick frowned. “I never even saw your punch coming. I’m the Fastest Man Alive! How’d ya do it?”
Owlman said nothing.
“Ignore the idiot,” said Superwoman. “If he had half a brain in his head, he would have long ago ceased to call me by terms like Legs and Baby Doll.”
Ultraman stepped into the room. “Enough. We are a team. No more fighting, or I’ll settle with all of you,” he said, cracking his knuckles.
Microbe grinned. “Don’t fight or I’ll beat you up — very nice leadership skills.”
The Martian Murderer said nothing.
Power Ring flew inside. “I just finished a little fact-finding tour. Old Luthor is hiding out, and somehow he blocks even my magic energy.”
Ultraman nodded. “The punk is good. I couldn’t find him, either. Maybe he’s in space. Can you check it out, Martian?”
The hulking, chalk-white man said, “I have no desire to leave this fertile world.”
“Hey, is our not-so-jolly giant scared of going back to his hometown?” said Quick.
“I have enemies that would make you weak in the knees,” he said. “They would seek me out if I ventured offworld. If you think this prudence I display is fear, then I suggest you keep such thoughts to yourself. I know your every thought even as you think it. I read the secrets within your warped little mind. If I chose to do so, I could hunt down all you hold sacred and slaughter it for sport.”
Quick grunted. “This isn’t my day.”
“I have a plan,” said Microbe. “Luthor must still have ties to his pretty little wife’s pals at the Daily Planet. We could draw him forth by putting them in peril.”
Owlman nodded with a smile of satisfaction. “At last — someone else who can actually contribute more to this motley assemblage than mere ox-like power. No offense, Kel.”
Princess Diana of Sanctuary Isle looked thoughtful.
“Superwoman, do you miss the marital bliss you enjoyed when the League’s mind-dampening left you believing you were merely a domestic goddess named Debbie Robinson?” said the perceptive Owlman.
“Do not be foolish. I only regret that I did not justly chastise the man who pawed me regularly under the pretense that I was his missing spouse,” she said, referring to the FBI man who had assumed she was his amnesiac wife. She said this out loud, but her inner thoughts were more complicated than she let on.
***
The Daily Planet was Metropolis’ biggest newspaper. Its owner, J. Wilbur Wolfingham, was a rich man with a heart of gold. He used the crusading paper to help those in need and to expose corruption of all kinds. He missed Lois Lane’s skills, but he knew her replacement, Cat Grant, had both the looks and the brains to get the job done. She was a sexy, desirable blonde, and she knew it.
This day, as she flirted with young Jimmy Olsen, she idly wondered if the Chief would give her the chance to land the interview of the century — a one-on-one with Ultraman himself. She could get the powerful super-villain to talk if she could get close to him. She just knew it.
Jimmy sputtered, “C-C-Cat — behind you!”
Cat smoothed her black mini-skirt and hose and frowned. “What’s wrong, Jim? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
The comely blonde turned to stare into a solid and broad chest with a red U emblazoned across a blue field.
“Ulp… uh…” she sputtered as Ultraman casually scooped her up with one hand and dangled her upside-down in the air.
“Help!” she cried.
“Help isn’t likely to come from this punk, eh, pal?” smirked Ultraman as Jimmy fell over a chair and scrambled to safety.
Jimmy Olsen knew the Chief was the only one with guts and gall enough to face down the Kryptonian thug. He rushed away to summon Wolfingham, not simply to save himself. Still, the freckle-faced youth was out of his league. He turned a corner and was instantly caught in a green vise created by Power Ring.
“What’s the hurry, kid? You late for an appointment?” laughed Power Ring. “You need a watch. Your time is our time.”
As Cat was held suspended upside down by one ankle, other staffers were tossed through the air by the whirlwind generated by Johnny Quick, who glanced at the leggy Miss Grant and dearly wished he was in Ultraman’s position. I can come back later and look up the doll, he mused.
It took only seconds for the duo of Power Ring and Johnny Quick to dismantle the famous Daily Planet globe on the roof.
“Think this will lure old baldy out?” asked Quick.
“If not, then we still had some fun, huh?” smirked Power Ring.
The editor, publisher, and owner of the proud newspaper rushed out. His portly form slowed his effort, but his courage was nonetheless impressive. “You leave them alone!” cried J. Wilbur Wolfingham. “If you want money, then I’ll pay you. If you want blood, then take mine.”
“Oh, we will, old man — we will,” said Ultraman.
“You shall harm no one while I live,” cried Amazo as he flew inside and surrounded Cat Grant’s wildly kicking body with a cushioned green bubble. He separated her from Ultraman and blasted the cocky alien out a window.
“I believe you and I should step outside,” said Amazo as he followed.
Power Ring and Johnny Quick exchanged startled looks. “That wasn’t Luthor!” gasped Quick.
“Shall we help Ultraman or wait a bit?” asked Power Ring.
Quick smiled. “Oh, there’s no need to rush. That kind of stress shortens life!”
Ultraman grimaced as he fell out the window. “That creep hits like Superman or Hypernion,” he muttered ruefully. It was always a disheartening situation for the bully when his mighty strength was equaled or beaten. He caught himself in midair. The next thing he knew, he was being pummeled by the super-fast, super-strong Amazo.
“Your reign of terror ends here,” cried Amazo.
Ultraman grunted, “Rain on this!” He struck back with a roundhouse right.
Amazo smiled as a green force shield absorbed the impact. “You are a mindless brute,” he said slowly, “an engine of destruction with little regard for the miracles your powers could achieve.”
Ultraman thought of the scorn he had endured back on Krypton when he was just a normal punk whose crime boss father had exerted limitless influence and bore his dim son nothing but scorn. “My genius enabled me to dominate Kandor and Argo City, but you cannot even elude capture by the drones of the KBI,” the bitter-but-brilliant kingpin of crime on Krypton had once said. Now rage filled his heart, and he screamed in fury. As windows shattered along Binder Boulevard, he charged Amazo and screamed, “I’ll kill you!”
Amazo laughed as the headstrong villain flew directly through the green double he had created. “Senseless brute. He can’t even ascertain color,” he mused.
Then Johnny Quick spun down on vibrating legs and passed neatly through the real Amazo with shattering impact.
The synthezoid gasped and vibrated in a pattern his keen mind calculated would counter Charles Drake’s motions. Quick gasped in greater pain. He had been outclassed.
Amazo said, “You betrayed the police force to become the heedless thug I see before me. You killed many good women with your speed. I shall bring you to account.”
Quick yelled, “P.R. — help!”
The calm voice of his best friend reached him from above. “Easy — I’m here.” The emerald energy formed a flying baby carriage around Quick and flew him apart from Amazo.
“Real cute,” muttered Quick.
As Ultraman charged again, he was caught in a green funnel and directed right into Power Ring. The impact left both stunned as Amazo stood over their fallen forms.
“Now at last you shall pay,” he announced.
Viewing monitors back in the Fortress of Science, an anxious Alexander Luthor turned to Brainiac and Lois and Lena Luthor.
“See? He did it!” he said proudly. “I told you not to worry. Amazo just shut down three of them.” He spoke of Amazo with all the pride that Kel-LL’s own father had never shown him.
Lena said, “I pray you are right.” Brainiac wanted to hold her but resisted the urge.
Then a hum filled the air, and they gasped as the four Crime Syndicate figures vanished from the scene of battle.
“Great Scott — a teleportation ray! Microbe’s work?” said Luthor.
“That would be my surmise,” said a sorrowful Brainiac.