Two men sat in a sunny room in Monaco. One, in a bed, the other on a hardbacked chair. The man in the bed had been born before there were roads. He had seen three empires rise, and twice that many fall. His machinations had hastened the end of kingdoms, republics and grand experiments.

    His name was Immortus. He had been a count, a king, and a warlord. Now, he simply styled himself 'General '. It was as good a title as any. Or, it had been.

    The man in the chair, by contrast, was in the prime of middle age. His face was weathered by the elements, and his eyes were hidden behind a blue visor. He wore winter gear, colored white and blue, but displayed no discomfort in the heat of the room.

    Unlike Immortus, he was no general. Merely a captain.

    Immortus coughed and raised a palsied hand. A servant gently bent his thin fingers around the stem of a goblet and another helped him sit up to drink.

    The man watching him repressed the slightest of shudders as Immortus greedily gulped the foul-smelling liquid with the precision of an infant. Smacking his lips, the ancient warrior turned, black eyes glinting with the dim fire of history.

     "Captain, " he croaked. "so good of you to see me. "

     "Money talks, I walk, General, " Captain Cold said, his breath spilling from his lips in a light fog. The gun in his lap possessed many unique properties. One of those was the creation of a limited cryonic field, a process that was useful for keeping Cold comfortable in warmer climes. He stroked the pistol the way another man might stroke a cat, and bared his teeth in a grin. "But my attention span is limited. "

    Immortus coughed again, and flapped a stick-like arm in the direction of one of his servants. The man stepped forward with a briefcase. He popped it open and showed Cold the money inside. Cold blinked, then sat back, suddenly relaxed.

     "That buys you an hour. "

     "I only need five minutes. " Immortus smiled. "I am dying, Captain. It has taken centuries for Death to catch up with me, but my time has dwindled to days. "

     "My condolences. "

     "I don 't need your condolences, Captain. I need you to save my life ... "

Issue # 17

'SIX ANGRY MEN' (Young As You Feel, Pt. 1)

    Mexico.

     "Duke. "

     "Lawton. "

    The red-headed giant didn 't turn as Floyd Lawton, also known as Deadshot, sat down beside him at the bar. Wearing his red and silver togs beneath a long coat, Deadshot knocked on the bar with a knuckle, catching the bar tender 's attention.

     "Beer. Cheap. " He looked over at the other man. The brown western suit was ripped in places and burned in others, giving brief glimpses of the Duke of Oil 's telescoping metal limbs. A white ten gallon hat sat on the bar in front of him. Deadshot smiled. "Heard you had some trouble down south. "

     "Did you? "

     "Heard you got cheated out of some money. "

    The Duke turned slightly, inhuman eyes examining Deadshot 's features. "What 's it to you, Lawton? "

     "Nothing. "

     "Like I figured. "

     "My employer on the other hand ... "

    The Duke grunted. Deadshot took a sip of his drink. He emptied the bottle and set it on the bar to spin. The Duke 's hand flashed out and the bottle shattered. Deadshot signalled the barman for another.

     "Get to the point, Lawton. "

     "Ever heard of the Fountain of Youth? "

     "Yeah, " the Duke said. He examined his metal fingers and grinned. "Not something I got to worry about though. "

    Deadshot nodded, then hiked a thumb over his shoulder. "Him either. " The Duke leaned back, eyes widening slightly as he took in the figure standing in the doorway. Clad in a coat similar to Deadshot 's, Amazo 's red-eyed glare took in the bar and its patrons.

     "Is that- "

     "Yeah. One of them, anyway. " Deadshot took a slug of his second beer. "Picked him up on my last job. "

     "Same boss? "

     "I figure. "

     "You figure? " The Duke eyed the other man. "You not sure who you working for? "

     "Anybody ever really, these days? "

    Monaco.

     "Well? " the man in the green jumpsuit said, as Captain Cold walked into the hotel room. The room was a suite, and looked out over the city. On the balcony, two men sat playing cards.

     "It 's worth it. " Cold went out onto the balony, snagging a beer from the room 's mini-fridge on the way. "Money is good, risk is ... " He hesitated. "Minimal. Depending. "

     "Depending? " One of the men on the balcony said. He was dressed in blue and black, and had an Australian accent. "Strewth, man, either it is or it ain 't. "

     "You scared of Amazons? "

     "Depends, " the other man on the balcony said. He wore a silvery bodysuit, with an orange harness and thick gloves and boots. "They burn? "

     "Well as anything else. "

     "Then no. " Heatwave went back to concentrating on his cards.

     "I bloody am! I 've tangled with them a time or three and- " the Australian snapped, but Cold shrugged.

     "Then go home, Digger. We don 't need you. "

     "Bloody hell you don 't. "

     "I think we can get along without the trick boomerangs, Harkness, " the man in green said, smirking.

     "Quiet, Weather Wizard, " Cold said. "All of you, in fact. "

    There was a soft whisper of sound, like old velcro being peeled apart. The mirror in the bathroom bubbled and spat out two figures. One, in orange and green, gave a jaunty wave.

     "Found him, Cold. Didn 't want to come at first, but I persuaded him right enough. " Mirror Master said, gesturing to the chunky form puking and heaving on the bathroom floor. Blues, oranges and yellows clashed in a riot of colors. The boy was young. Late teens, early twenties. Bottle blonde hair with that springiness that only Crisco can give.

    Captain Cold looked down at him and frowned.

     "He 's a kid. "

     "He 's the new Trickster, " Mirror Master said, rooting through the fridge for a beer. Cold snorted and drove a boot into the boy 's belly.

     "Talk to me, kid. Tell me why I shouldn 't ice you now for using our old buddy James ' toys without his permission. "

    The Trickster looked up at him and wiped vomit off of his mouth. "Rogues need a Trickster. And I want to play, " he said, smiling weakly.

     "Really. "

     "If you didn 't need me, would you have sent Crocodile Dundee to come and get me? " Trickster held out a hand. "Give a brother a hand? "

    Cold grabbed it, and stumbled back as the Trickster 's hand popped loose and exploded into a nest of writhing steel tendrils. Cold grunted and fell, bound tight. The Trickster popped to his feet, laughing wildly. Mirror Master joined him. Cold, for his part, extended his cryo-field and the tendrils became brittle and disintegrated as he shrugged.

     "I told you I could get him! Gotcha, gotcha, gotcha! " Trickster said. Mirror Master slapped on the back, and went to help Cold to his feet.

     "That you did, Axel. " Mirror Master looked at Cold. "He pass your test then? "

     "For now, " Cold said, brushing bits of tendril off. He looked around the room. "Well, now that we 're all in one spot, here 's the gig- "      

    Grenada.

     "H-h-how is h-he? " the bald headed man asked, as the red headed woman walked out of the private hospital. She shook her head.

     "Conscious. But he 's hurting. Bad. I wish- "

     "If wishes were horses, you 'd have a stable, " a woman with a mohawk and blue skin snarled. "Darryl got sloppy. If we don 't want to join him in the emergency room, we need to- "

     "Stop yapping in broad daylight and come with me? "

    The trio turned, as Deadshot shimmered into view, flanked by the Duke of Oil and Amazo. Deadshot snapped his fingers. "Mockingbird sent me. We 've got a job for you three. "

     "What about Darryl? " Heatstroke, the red-headed woman said. Deadshot shrugged.

     "He 'll be here when we get back. "

     "But- "

     "Quiet, " New Wave, the blue-skinned woman snarled. She tossed a glare at her teammate, then looked at Deadshot. "Where 's Bane? I thought he was in charge of this- "

     "Bane 's got other business. Mockingbird 's got a lot of irons in the fire, babe. Got a lot of people looking for work too. Want some? "

     "I- " New Wave stepped back, eyes narrowed. "What 's the job? "

     "Easy as pie. " Deadshot slapped a hand against Amazo 's chest. "Especially with the walking, talking skeleton key here. "

     "Do not touch me, " Amazo rumbled.

     "Good sweet Jesus it talks! " the Duke said, eyes widening. "I thought it was a damn robot! "

     "Funny, I thought the same about you, " Heatstroke snapped. She lunged at Deadshot, grabbing a handful of his costume. "And you-! If you think I 'm going to- "

     "Tch. I was told to pick six, with certain abilities. Far as I 'm concerned, I can go pick up Firebug instead of you, babe, " Deadshot said, his wrist magnum pressed to the side of the woman 's head. "Your choice. "

     "H-Heats-stroke, e-ease o-off, " Shakedown, the bald man, said, grabbing his partner by the arms and hauling her away from Deadshot. New Wave laughed.

     "I like you, Lawton. We 're in. "

     "My heart flutters, " Deadshot said. He looked at Amazo. "You ready? "

     "As always, " Amazo said, flexing his massive arms. "Stand close. "

    The six disappeared in a flash of radiance.

    New York.

    The embassy of Themiscrya sat alone, white marble and wood paneling amidst stone and glass. A home-y sort of place. Ivy and flowers covered the gates, and thick trees filled the front yard.

    It radiated peace. Tranquility. An escape from Man 's World.

     "Three seconds here and already I hate this place, " New Wave said, as the light from Amazo 's teleportation effect faded.

     "Good to hear, especially since you get to bust it up, " Deadshot said. The sound of his wrist-weapons cycling to life punctuated the serene silence. New Wave looked at him.

     "What about- "

    Arrows sprouted from the Duke of Oil 's chest and hat. His eyes rolled up, then down, and he muttered, "Injuns. "

     "Amazons, " Amazo rumbled, pointing. Embassy guards, clad in gold and steel, charged towards them, broad-bladed spears clutched in their hands. More arrows clattered around them. Deadshot looked at Amazo and the Duke.

     "You two know what to do. Get to it. "

     "And what about us? " Heatstroke said, waving her hand and burning a flurry of arrows out of the air. Deadshot pointed towards the guards rushing towards them.

     "Like I said. Bust the joint up. " With that he sank into a crouch and his wrist guns spat a swarm of death. An Amazon pitched forward.

     "My kind of plan, " New Wave said, her body expanding and undulating towards the oncoming guards. Heatstroke shot upwards into the air, flames coiling around her. Shakedown stayed where he was, and sank to his haunches, planting his palms on the ground.

    Amazo and the Duke of Oil, for their part, rushed towards the Embassy itself. Amazo 's eyes flared red, and an Amazon fell back, wreathed in flame. The Duke took a sword on his forearm and then batted the wielder 's head off with a casual backhand.

    They charged up the steps and hit the door like humanoid typhoons, shattering the wood and metal. Hidden laser batteries opened up and energy beams stroked their forms.

     "Augh! God damn- " the Duke began, staggering. Amazo 's eyes flared again and he swept his burning gaze across the walls. The emerald ring on his finger sparked and an immense green hand formed in the air, curled into a fist and smashed through the far wall.

     "Through there. "

     "I 'm going, I 'm going! " the Duke snapped, his legs extending, shooting him across the room in seconds. He landed in a crouch just past the ruined wall. Amazons clad in advanced battle-armor fired plasma carbines at him from the stairs in front of him. The Duke 's cybernetic form absorbed the energy and directed it to his circuits, and his hands crushed the ends of the guns, causing them to explode. Stepping over the unconscious Amazons, he climbed the stairs.

    Below, Amazo became locked in a melee with half a dozen Amazons. His internal HUD reeled off information as he spun and blocked a blow from a sword. There was a complement of a hundred staff members. No more than seventy of these would be actual Amazons, and thus, a threat. The remaining thirty would be staff provided by the American government. Only fifteen of these would be members of the DEO or the DMA or Checkmate. The rest would be evacuating. The Amazons used traditional weapons, except for a core group armed with more advanced technology. The non-Amazon staff would be busy using the opportunity to go through files, evacuate the actual diplomats or plant listening devices.

    Amazo caught a spear and drove the butt into the belly of its wielder, knocking her backwards. She stumbled, spun, and unsheathed a sword, cutting a line across his side. He sucked in a lungful of air and released it blowing her across the room.

    An explosion from above caught his attention. He sidestepped as the Duke of Oil came crashing down, covered in ice, flames, and stinking of lightning.

     "Well, well, well, what have we here? " Weather Wizard said, hovering overhead. "Looks like someone was trying to beat us to the punch, boys. "

     "Figures. This was too damn easy, " Captain Cold said. The rest of the Rogues gathered around him, weapons aimed at Amazo ...

TO BE CONTINUED ...

Next issue: The Rogues vs. the Six vs. a whole bunch of angry Amazons! Plus, what, exactly, are our happy-go-lucky groups of criminals after in the first place? Be here in thirty for 'PURPLE HAZE '!