Disclaimer: The characters Batman, Green Lantern, Hawkgirl, Hawkman, Wonder Woman, Martian Manhunter, Superman & Flash and their respective secret identities are all owned by DC Comics. The character names Talon and Static are owned by Milestone Comics. This story is intended for my own pleasure and is not for profit. It has been posted to this site for others to read. Places and characters not own by DC or Milestone are my own creation. This story is based on characters from the animated Justice League Unlimited series episode: Destroyer written by Dwayne McDuffie; the Batman: The Animated Series episodes: Tyger, Tyger by Michael Reaves & Randy Rogel and See No Evil by Martin Pasko. The Boxer is by Paul Simon. A huge shout out of thanks to xffan_2000 for her beta on this story. However, any mistakes she missed are mine.

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Broken Mirror

Rating: PG-13

Synopsis: Batman and Shayera discover that Winston Churchill was right: Nothing is more costly, nothing is more sterile, than vengeance.

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~~~~~~~~~~~~~
PROLOGUE
~~~~~~~~~~~~~

(5 P.M. - Two days after the Thanagarian invasion withdraws from Earth)

In the end it all boiled down to two things: death and taxes. People pay taxes and people die. They were the constants of life. Frank Jefferson learned early that there wasn't a lot of money to be made being a tax collector, but a smart business man could make a very decent living in the death business, that is, the funeral business.

Frank had learned his trade from his mother, a pleasant faced, but sour-dispositioned woman, who'd inherited the Jefferson Funeral Home and Crematorium from her father. Now it was up to Frank to continue to operate the family business in the lower west side of Metropolis.

Thanks to the Thanagarians, business had been very good recently, particularly in the last couple of days. But now that the Thanagarian armada had withdrawn, Frank felt business had probably reached its peak and would taper off to routine.

There was an odor in the crematorium that Frank never got use to. Before walking over to the sink, Frank briefly watched Sam, his crematorium operator, scoop the ashes and place them in a ceramic urn. Looking in the mirror over the sink, he straightened his tie, then took out a pair of white gloves from his coat pocket. He wet the palm of the left glove, put it on and then put on the dry right glove.

He turned around in time to see Sam wiping the urn with a damp cloth.

"Here's your package," Sam said as he handed Frank the container. Frank looked down at the ceramic urn he'd been handed and carefully turned it so that the floral decoration would be what his customer would see first. He wet his lips and flattened his expression into one that conveyed the solemnest that was expected. It was a well-practiced expression, one he'd done a hundred times before. He took a deep breath, turned and walked through the double doors that led into the chapel.

She was seated in the first pew, clearly lost in her thoughts as the sound of organ music invaded the quiet. She was a young woman and because of the absence of anyone by her side, Frank suspected that she was now alone in the world. He realized early on in his professional life that he would never meet people at their happiest in this business. His was the business of death and very few are happy when death calls for their loved ones.

She didn't have any money. He sensed that right away when they first met at the morgue to claim the body and yet she didn't ask for his help or any additional consideration as she planned a simple inexpensive service.

Morticians and prostitutes get their money up front his mother had told him when he took over the business. Yet he didn't ask the woman for any payment in advance and now regretted that. He wished he could have been more charitable, but he had a business to run and staff and expenses to pay. Still, he'd cut his fees substantially because he felt sorry for her.

As Frank approached her seat, the organ music stopped on cue and he cleared his throat. She stood as he came abreast of her. The veil she wore didn't hide the tears streaming from her blue eyes. Her blonde hair cascaded over her shoulders providing the only contrast to the all black outfit she wore. In his most practiced and soothing voice, he said, "Miss Ventris, again let me express my sorrow on the loss of your mother."

"Thank you," she said softly as she reached into her purse, retrieved a tissue, dabbed each eye once with it and put it back in her purse.

"Here are your mother's remains," Frank said as he presented the urn to her.

"Thank you," she sniffled.

Frank, however, didn't let go of the urn when she reached for it, the single wet glove enabling him to keep a firm grip on the container. He cleared his throat again. "There is never a good time to bring this up, but there is still a small balance due for our services."

Miss Ventris frowned and removed her hands from the container. "I know," she said as she reached into her purse and gave Frank a slip of paper that appeared to be a check. As Frank took the paper, she took the urn from his grasp. "I believe this will cover it," she said with a tinge of anger in her voice. "I've endorsed the check. Use the balance to pay for the funerals of some of the others who died because of those dirty hawks."

Frank looked at the paper in his hand. It was a check payable to the Ventris woman, but made out for five times the amount she owed. Frank wet his lips again. "Miss Ventris, this is a very generous thing you've offered to do. Of course, I'll have to call the bank in the morning to make sure the check is still good."

"You do that," Miss Ventris said with an air of distain in her voice. "I've never known a check drawn on Wayne Financial Services and signed by Bruce Wayne himself to be bad. You have my phone number. Call me if you run into problems." She turned and walked out of the chapel.

Frank started to follow her, but thought better of it. He looked at the check again. Maybe it was forgery, on the other hand, it might not be and he could have been wrong about the amount of money she had. It was then that he noticed the date on the check and he swallowed hard. He would deposit the check in the morning and hope they'd honor a ten-year-old bank draft.

~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
CHAPTER ONE
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I am just a poor boy though my story's seldom told
I have squandered my resistance for a pocketful of mumbles, such are promises
All lies and jest,
Still a man hears what he wants to hear
And disregards the rest.

~~~~
(Wayne Enterprises - The next day)

The last week had been an emotional train wreck for Bruce. He'd liked Hawkgirl as a teammate and was more upset by her betrayal than he let on. He'd learned early on to keep his circle of trust to as few people as possible, but over the years Bruce had widened that circle to include the six members of the Justice League. Now that one of them had betrayed him, he sadly realized that one day the others could as well. 

Betrayal.  If his life could be reduced to a single word, 'betrayal' would probably be it. There were stories in the press, all the time, about how the emotionally scarred billionaire playboy would never settle down with one woman because his mother was violently taken from him at a young age when he was coming to grips with his natural feelings for her. Therefore, according to the press, Bruce Wayne used women, but never trusted them to stay with him. It was all psycho-babble, but it was out there in the tabloids and circulating in the legitimate press. He pretended it didn't bother him, but it did because he knew there might be some truth to it. And now, yet another woman had betrayed him and not just him, but his company as well.

Wayne Enterprises had invested heavily in the Thanagarian shield generator backed by the promised financial support from the World Security Council. After the shield generator was destroyed by the Justice League, the World Security Council balked at paying Wayne Enterprises for supplying materials for what turned out to be a wormhole generator. Wayne lawyers were confident they would ultimately prevail in civil court, but it could take years to collect and Bruce knew in the final analysis he would get pennies on the dollar in this losing venture.

As he opened the door to his private office, a welcome feeling of relief washed over him. It was good to get back to the office and out of the manor. The other members of the League had dispersed back to their homes, but the noise of the construction crews rebuilding his mansion had driven him to distraction. On top of that, Kent had approached him about rebuilding the Watchtower. It was something that Bruce wanted to do, but he knew this time around there'd be no way to hide the construction expense. Maybe he should pitch the idea of an internationally financed Watchtower to Lucius Fox.

Yes, that was it. He'd ask Lucius to be the front man in marketing a need for an International Justice League. And maybe a newly funded project would halt his company's financial bleeding.

He sighed loudly. Hawkgirl and the other Thanagarians had cost him a fortune, but at least he had the satisfaction of voting her out of the League, even through his side lost that argument.

He'd just sat down at his desk when his secretary, Dana Blessing, buzzed him on the intercom. "Mr. Wayne, your banker is on line four."

Bruce flipped the switch on the intercom to answer. "Thank you, Dana." He picked up the phone. "Hi, Harvey."

"Good morning, Bruce."

Harvey Midas, his personal banker for almost twenty years, sounded very solemn. Bruce sensed Harvey had paused as if trying to find the right words to say and Bruce immediately had a bad feeling about the call.

"I hate to bother you with this," Harvey continued. "After all, I've read the paper over the last couple of days, so I know that your company took a beating with the Thanagarian invasion thing and I don't want it to seem like I'm piling on, but I got the strangest phone call a couple of minutes ago."

Bruce didn't try to hide his exasperation. "Go on, Harvey. Spit it out."

"Bruce, I just took a call from a Frank Jefferson, of the Jefferson Funeral Home in Metropolis, and he wanted to know if you'd honor a check for $15,000 written ten years ago to a Kimberly Ventris? I told him we didn't have an obligation to pay on a check after -"

Bruce cut Harvey off. "Pay the check, Harvey. You say it was a funeral home? Did Jefferson say who died?"

"A Helen Ventris," Harvey answered. He paused before adding, "Bruce, are you sure about this? After all, you have no real obligation to honor a check after so long a period."

"Treat it as if it were a savings account and pay the going rate of accrued interest on the amount."

"What??? Bruce...is this blackmail?"

For a moment, Bruce smiled at what was apparently real concern by his old friend. He was sure Harvey thought the billionaire playboy was trying to buy his way out of another jam with some woman who knew she was the one to make Bruce Wayne whole. Bruce shook his head knowing Harvey couldn't see his smirk. Nothing could be further from the truth as he recalled his -- or rather Batman's -- first meeting with young Kimberly Ventris, who was regularly visited by her imaginary playmate, 'MoJo.'

MoJo, however, was really Kimberly's father, an ex-convict named Lloyd. Upon his release from prison, Ventris discovered that his ex-wife, Helen, has gone to court to cut off all visitation rights to his young daughter Kimberly. While working as a janitor for the late optics researcher, Doctor Abner Carrows, Lloyd discovered that the doctor had invented a plastic that became invisible when electrified. Lloyd stole the plastic and fashioned an invisibility suit that he used to visit Kimberly as 'MoJo.' When Lloyd used the suit to start robbing jewelry stores, Batman stopped him.

"I knew Kimberly Ventris' father," Bruce answered, "and tried to help out a couple of years ago. Not blackmail, just goodwill. Humor me, Harvey. Pay the check. We'll talk and laugh about it over lunch someday. Now, I have to go. I'll talk to you later."

Bruce hung up the phone and pressed the intercom button.

"Yes, Mr. Wayne?" Dana answered.

"Dana, call the airport and have my private jet ready to leave this afternoon for Metropolis."

~~~~

Bruce looked out the passenger window of his private jet as it made its final approach to Metropolis airport. He could still recall the sound of disappointment in Alfred's voice when he told him to pack an overnight bag for him and that he was leaving for Metropolis that afternoon - alone. Bruce knew that Alfred would realize that it was best that he stay at the manor to supervise the repairs and make sure the construction crews didn't wander into inappropriate areas on the grounds. As for Gotham, Bruce figured his junior partners could handle the city for one night on their own.

After his plane landed, Bruce took a cab to the Metropolis Hilton-Ritz and had dinner alone in his room. He found a phonebook in the night table and located the address of the Jefferson Funeral Home. After a restless and mostly sleepless night, he showered, ate breakfast in his room and called the hotel concierge to get him a limo and driver for the day.

As Bruce's limo pulled up in front of the funeral home, a wave of nervousness washed over him. He took a deep breath. He hated funerals and funeral homes. He leaned forward and tapped the driver on the shoulder, "I'll be about ten minutes." He didn't wait for the chauffeur to acknowledge the comment as he stepped smartly out of the limo and entered the funeral home.

He'd barely closed the door behind him, when a short, squat, older man in a dark blue suit approached him.

"Good morning, sir. My name is Frank Jefferson. How may I serve you?" the man said in a voice so smooth and drawn out that Bruce couldn't help but smile. Bruce noted that the man didn't offer to shake hands, but instead kept his hands behind his back.

"Good morning, Mister Jefferson," Bruce said offering his hand anyway and flashing a polished grin. "Actually, you were the one I was looking for. My name is Bruce Wayne."

Jefferson's face lit up like an old roman candle and he grabbed Bruce's hand and shook it vigorously. "Mister Wayne! I am so pleased that you honored the check, but I certainly didn't expect you to pay me a visit." He paused, realizing he was still shaking Bruce's hand. He stopped, sheepishly withdrew his hand and smiled. "I'm honored to meet you. How may I be of service to the Wayne household?"

Bruce suppressed a smile. "I'm pleased to meet you," he said, "But I'm not in need of your services at the moment, but I'll certainly take your business card."

Jefferson fumbled as he got a card out of his pocket and gave it to Bruce. Bruce gave the card a cursory look and put it in his coat breast pocket as he said, "Thank you." He paused. "What can you tell about the young woman who presented the check?"

The smile left Jefferson's face, along with the drawl as he spoke. "She was young, in her early to mid-twenties, and very pretty. Apparently, she lost her mother during the invasion, killed by those dirty hawks." He paused, apparently catching Bruce's frown. "That's what she called them," he quickly amended. He swallowed hard. "The check is still okay, isn't it?"

Bruce took a deep breath. "The check is fine. Did the young lady say where she was staying?"

Jefferson shook his head. "She gave me an address, but when I called the number to share with her that you honored the check, the phone was disconnected."

Bruce nodded. "I see. May I have her address?"

Jefferson hesitated before answering, "I'm sorry, but I can't do that. I can get into a lot of trouble for violating her privacy."

Bruce's eyes narrowed. "I understand," he said, pausing a moment before clearing his throat. "Helen Ventris was a friend of mine. Judging by the amount of the check she must have had a very expensive funeral. I'd like to see your price list."

Jefferson looked away, nervously fumbling with his hands before clearing his throat. "You know, Mister Wayne, we're both businessmen. Let me extend you a professional courtesy and get that address for you. I'll only be a moment." Without waiting for Bruce to respond, Jefferson turned and walked, then hustled down the hall to a corner office. He returned a minute later and offered Bruce a card.

Bruce examined the card, noting the address on it and slipped it in his coat pocket.

Jefferson shrugged his shoulders. "I suspect she's not there anymore. It's just a wild guess, but the phone is disconnected."

Bruce reached into his coat breast pocket and took out Jefferson's business card. He handed it back and said to the stunned Jefferson: "Thank you, but I don't think I'll be needing your services after all."

With Jefferson's mouth agape, Bruce turned and walked out the door toward his waiting limousine.

~~~~
(A year later)

Hotel bars were all the same, Emile Dorian thought: overpriced small drinks and stale popcorn. The tavern, located on the first floor of the hotel, was empty and gaudy. There was a shiny "disco" ball suspended from the ceiling, slowly rotating in the center of the room bathing the orange colored walls of the lounge with bright bits of reflected light. It was like watching paint dry, but not quite as entertaining.

The bartender was cute, but she made it clear she wasn't going to make small talk with him just because they were the only two in the place. She pretended to be busy washing glasses that probably hadn't been used in a month. Occasionally, she'd look over in his direction, at his drink - not him, Dorian noted.

About two more sips of his whiskey sour he decided and then he'd be ready to leave. He tried to recall something his father had told him when he was younger about men who drink alone. He shook his head trying to get the thought to gel. He couldn't remember exactly what his dad had said, but it had something to do with drinking alone indicating failure and women don't talk to failures if they can help it. He sighed. No, that wasn't it, but it would explain the bartender putting him on 'ignore.' He took another sip of his drink.

Five hundred dollars. That's how much money he had to his name. He'd been out of prison for two days. Actually, he'd been released five years early at the request of some big, heavy-set woman who wanted to recruit him because of his work with animal mutagens. She seemed to know all about his run in with Batman and Catwoman, but it was his creation of Tygrus that interested her the most.

He'd had a final interview in his hotel room with her just an hour ago and was given an address to report to in the morning. The woman who interviewed him talked about things that he confessed he'd missed while he was in jail. When she spoke of Superman going rogue or the Thanagarian invasion of a year ago, he had no frame of reference for them. But she offered him the position anyway.

He looked down at his drink. After another swallow of whiskey, he'd return to his room, pack his meager belongings and begin his new life as a scientist for something called: 'Project Cadmus.'

He was about to leave when the bartender put another whiskey sour in front of him. He didn't hide his confusion. "I didn't order..."

The bartender cut him off as she pointed to a woman sitting at the end of the bar. "Compliments of the lady," she said.

Lady? He didn't see anyone come in or notice the bartender take an order. Dorian looked down at the drink then over to the end of the bar. Seated there was a pretty young woman with long blonde hair and a pair of sunglasses perched on the top of her head. Her black blouse was so sheer that he could see that she was wearing a black bra that seemed to straining not to bust open. He smiled and nodded his head in a 'thank you.'

The woman stood, picked up her glass and then sat down on the bar stool next to Dorian. His smile widened. She wore blue jeans and despite her stiletto high heels, she couldn't have been more than five-foot-six.

"Good evening, Doctor Dorian", she said as she fluttered her blue eyes at him.

Dorian's inner radar went off. He nodded in her direction as he said softly, "Evening. I'm afraid you have me at disadvantage. You seem to know me, but I don't seem to recall your name. Do I know you?"

She smiled. "That could be because we've not met before, Doctor. My name is Kimberly Ventris and I'm going to be your lab assistant." She paused and slid her stool a little closer to Dorian's. "At least, I want to be. I'm a big fan of your work and can't wait to get started...can't wait to help you."

Dorian frowned, took a sip of the drink and then stood. He made a show of letting her know he was looking her over and liking what he saw. "Oh. I see. You want to be my assistant, huh?" He paused. "Perhaps, my special assistant?" he said placing emphasize on the word 'special.'

"Just so you don't get the wrong idea, doc," she continued looking him in the eyes as the smile fell off her face. "I graduated cum laude from the University of Gotham with a degree in genetic engineering. I've worked with Professor Emil Hamilton on various special projects as his assistant for three years. You'll find out more about those special projects tomorrow, but I want you to know: I am qualified to be your assistant."

Dorian moved back to the bar counter and took a swallow the drink she'd bought him. He held it for a moment and then set it back on the counter. "Well, thank you for the drink, but I'm afraid I don't have a job to offer you at the moment, but if, as you say, we'll be working together, I'll look you up after I check out your credentials." He smiled at her, but she didn't return it. "If you'll excuse me," he said as he turned and started to walk away.

She called out behind him, "Doctor Dorian, I want to help you. They had no right to put you in prison because of your work. You have a great mind and the work you did in DNA modification has tremendous potential. Let me help you."

He stopped and turned around as she said softly and slowly, "Please."

He looked at her and laughed, startling her. "I didn't fall off the truck yesterday, sweetheart. I don't know what your game is, but I don't like it. Good night, Miss Ventris."

Dorian had taken two steps when a blond haired man stepped in front of him blocking his exit. "Hi, Doctor," the man said. Dorian turned around to look at the Ventris woman then back at the man.

"Doctor Dorian," she said. "This is Dennis Cuvier. He has been assigned as your assistant." She nodded her head as she added, "For real."

Dennis grabbed Dorian's hand and shook it. "Pleasure to meet you, sir," he said.

Dorian withdrew his hand in disgust. "I can't say the same if you are part of whatever game Miss Ventris is playing." His eyes narrowed as they locked on Cuvier. "Explain the meaning of this."

"It's not a game, Doctor. We wanted to see you before you officially started work tomorrow. They're going to want you to work on altering the DNA of felines to adapt them to humans. Kimmy and I think that focus is too narrow and should include other species."

"Hmmm," Dorian said. "Go on." The prospect of expanding the DNA alteration and augmentation program beyond felines was very intriguing.

"Not here," Kimberly said, as she flashed a room key and headed for the exit. "My room!"

Dorian got the distinct impression as he watched her wiggle by, that Miss Ventris had no intention of putting him on 'ignore' anytime soon, especially tonight.

~~~~

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CHAPTER TWO
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When I left my home and my family, I was no more than a boy
In the company of strangers
In the quiet of the railway station, running scared
Laying low, seeking out the poorer quarters, where the ragged people go
Looking for the places only they would know.

~~~~
(Five years after the Thanagarian Invasion)

It had been a hot and muggy afternoon in Metropolis. Catherine Grant, the gossip reporter for the Daily Planet, stood in line with six other people in the bank grateful that the bank's air conditioning was working. She was depositing a check her mother had sent her for her birthday. Catherine was in her mid-thirties and easily made more money in one year than her elderly mother had made in five years when she still worked. More than once Catherine would gently, but firmly, remind her mother that she didn't need her money. And every year a check would arrive on her birthday anyway.

Catherine smiled to herself as it was now her turn at the teller window. She'd just presented the teller, Doris, with her check when she thought she heard a commotion behind her. She turned in time to see Hawkgirl walking into the bank and approach her.

Hawkgirl held her mace out in front of her and she was in her old costume with the yellow top and green pants with red trim. She also wore the feathered mask she used to wear before the invasion four or five years ago.

Catherine would later tell the police that she at first thought it was a Hawkgirl impersonator going to a geek convention or some sort of a movie publicity stunt until the woman suddenly spread the wings coming out of her back and flew over the teller's counter.

"Excuse me," Hawkgirl said as she flew behind the teller's cage and pushed the surprised Doris aside. "I'll take this," the Thanagarian said as she reached into the cash drawer. She removed the dye pack from it magnetic 'safe' position and tossed it to Doris on the floor.

"That's a no-no," Hawkgirl said as she grabbed two $100 bills. "That's all I need for today," she said as she seemed to smile into the security cameras capturing this robbery on video.

Just as she'd had before, Hawkgirl flew over the bank counter and landed at the bank entrance. She hit the front door with her mace, shattering the glass door insert and then leaped in the air and flew away.

Within seconds, Catherine could hear shots being fired outside and she figured one of the other tellers must have tripped a silent alarm. Police rushed inside the bank within minutes as Doris lay on the floor sobbing while a couple of other tellers tried to comfort her.

Catherine wondered why in the world would Hawkgirl wear a mask and her old costume to rob a bank. With all the video cameras in the place, the fact that she's the only one of her kind on the planet and was so well-known, it wasn't like anyone wouldn't know it was her.

"All of those costumed types are criminals," Catherine heard someone say behind her. She reflected that, at the moment that statement was probably going to be hard to argue against.

~~~~

(12 hours later)

Wally listened as Batman, pressing his finger to his ear, made the call on the private channel for the seven. "Shayera. Stand by for transport to the Watchtower."

Wally's stomach hurt. It was an ache he got when he had to do something he didn't want to do. Occupying a seat in this special room in the Watchtower was one of those things.

"Standing by," Shayera answered as Batman pushed the button on his armrest that transported her to the designated spot.

This room, isolated in a corner of the Watchtower and requiring special codes and voice print identification to enter, had six chairs placed on a raised platform arranged in a semi-circle with Superman and Batman sitting in the center of the grouping. There were thirteen steps leading to this stage (Wally had counted them) and their significance was not lost on him. This is where the founding six sat in judgment of those who came before them.

And now, there was this moment. A moment he'd dreaded for some time, one he'd thought would have occurred earlier than today.

He had not been too keen of the idea behind this place, this special room, from the beginning. It was unspoken, but understood that anyone who betrayed the League or presented a direct threat to the future of the League would stand in front of them and face summary justice. Because she had betrayed them, Shayera would never have a seat on this council and Wally wasn't sure that she even knew it existed. More than once, Wally had thought the primary purpose of the room and her subsequent exclusion was to continue punishing her, regardless what GL had said to the contrary.

With GL already known to be on a deep space mission, she now stood in front of the five of them, looking up with a mixture of emotions on her face. She was clearly surprised to have been transported to this room, facing what was undeniably a tribunal. The look of nervousness slowly etched itself on her face as she gradually saw the gravity of the situation and the frowning faces in front of her.

She had her mace clipped to her belt and her arms folded across her chest. "What's this about?" she snapped. Wally shook his head. Shayera was going be defiant to the end, Wally thought, and that might not serve her well under these circumstances.

"Want to explain," Bats said, his hands tightly clenching the armrest. At that moment, Wally had a revelation. Bats didn't like being in this room either.

"Explain what?" Shayera said. Wally noticed the crack in her voice and was sure the others did too.

"This!" Superman said as a video screen rose out of the floor to Shayera's left. On the screen were two surveillance camera photos; one taken from behind and the other a profile, showing her in her old Hawkgirl costume behind a bank counter taking money out of a teller's drawer.

Shayera's jaw dropped as she realized what she was seeing. "That's not me," she stammered. "You know that's not me! Why would I do that?"

Bats frowned. "You tell us."

Shayera inhaled sharply as if she was gathering her courage having realized how grave her situation apparently was. Wally wondered if she knew that Superman's phantom zone projector was just a switch-throw away. She cleared her throat and pointed to the screen. "If you know me, you know I didn't do that. Can't you tell that's not me?"

"Where were you yesterday afternoon at 1:30?" Bats said. His tone was just as curt as it had been when she'd materialized in the room.

"Why are you even asking me that?" she said. "You can't possibly believe I had anything to do with this."

Supes stood. "It doesn't matter what we believe, Shayera, only what we can prove. Batman asked you a question. Where were you yesterday?"

Shayera started fidgeting and Wally suddenly had a thought. She might well be aware of the projector in the floor. After all, she had a proven history of finding out things she wasn't suppose to know. She dropped her arms to her side and Wally thought for a moment she might reach for her mace and prayed that she wouldn't. He knew if she did that she'd never leave that room alive, despite his speed.

Instead, she kept her arms at her side, her hand plainly in sight, and there was almost a plea to her voice as she said softly, "I've been with you for almost ten years and I can't believe you'd do this to me. I tell you again, that's not me. How can you not see that?"

Wally had heard enough. He stood and raced down to Shayera's side and standing next to her said to Superman, "And that should end this discussion right now. We all knew before she came in here that she didn't do it. Now, let's concentrate on finding out who's impersonating Shayera and stop this madness." He turned and smiled at Shayera. She didn't return his smile.

Bats stood. "I want to see your earpiece."

Shayera surprised Wally by flying to Bat's chair and handing him her device. "This better not be it," she said angrily. "Because if it is, I'm not wearing these stupid things again. Ever!"

Wally raced back up the steps and Supes stepped next to Shayera while Bats examined her earpiece. "Shayera, I'm sorry about this," Supes said, "but we have to prove to the authorities you aren't responsible. And we can't assume that we or you will get the benefit of the doubt from anyone. That's what this was all about. We have to be able to prove your innocence, not simply deny your guilt."

Shayera stared at Superman silently for a few seconds. There was no hiding the anger and disgust in her face. She inhaled loudly before saying, "And how do you propose I do that? Turn myself in?"

"No!" Diana snapped as she stood. "We will not turn you over to anyone. Period!"

Wally inwardly smiled. Diana had clearly moved on beyond whatever differences she and Shayera had had before.

"Diana's right," Wally said turning to Bats. "Besides, if you're feeling guilty, clear your own name. Don't stand on the sidelines waiting for somebody else to do it."

Diana grinned first at Wally, then at Shayera and then looked back to Bats. "You forgot the part about it being the single dumbest plan you ever heard of." Shayera smiled.

Bats frowned. "Very funny." He handed Shayera another earpiece. "Here. Take this one."

Shayera examined the device before putting it in her ear. She looked at Superman. "How do we prove it wasn't me?"

"We go to the videotape," J'onn said as he placed his hand on Shayera's shoulder and grinned in his own Martian way.

~~~~

Wally liked this room a lot better than the other one. He stood next to Shayera as Bats wound and re-wound the videotape of the bank robbery. He had taken the black and white tape and color enhanced it.

"Friend of yours?" Bats said to Shayera as she looked over his shoulder.

Shayera shook her head as she said, "She's wearing Hro's colors, but she's not Thanagarian. I don't know what she is. Possibly human, but definitely not Thanagarian."

Wally's eyes widened. "How can you tell? I mean that she's not Thanagarian. She's got wings coming out of her back like you."

Shayera tilted her head to one side. "Her wings are too low on her back to be Thanagarian. They're close to being positioned correctly, but it's not right. Also you can tell by watching her fly. She wobbles in flight. Flight is not instinctive. She's had to learn and she learned recently."

"Oh," Wally said as he watched the woman on the tape fly once more after Batman re-cued the tape. Suddenly his jaw dropped as he realized what Shayera had said. "Wait!" he exclaimed. "You were wearing Talak's colors? So whose colors do you wear now?"

Shayera lowered her head, turned and started walking out the door. "I wear the colors of a nobody."

Wally said nothing after Shayera left, focusing his attention on Bats. "This bites," he finally said. "And honestly, I'm not sure I'm proud of a group that would drag her in front of us, scare her to death and maybe threaten to send her to the phantom zone. We all know she didn't do this. We knew it from the beginning and yet -"

"I wouldn't have permitted that projector to come out of the floor or let anyone in that room harm her," Bats said without turning around.

Wally's eyes widened. At least he had confirmation that he hadn't been alone in his discomfort. "Yeah, I guess you wouldn't have," he said after a moment of reflection.

"However, she still didn't answer where she was," Bats pointed out as he kept his attention on the video screen in front of him. "Hmmm. It could still be a Thanagarian. Or a human with a wing harness like Carter Hall."

"Or a Martian who changed to look like Shayera," Wally said. Bats turned around in his chair to face him and frowned. "Look," Wally continued, "All I'm saying is that I don't think it's us, any of us, and I don't believe you think it was either. And if Shayera says it's not a Thanagarian, then it's not a Thanagarian. Isn't there some bad guy, somewhere in this vast library of ours, who has made bird people or something?"

Bats steepled his hands together almost as if in prayer and was silent. He suddenly dropped his hands in his lap and said, "Not bird people. Cat people!"

~~~~

Amanda Waller's secretary had just closed the door to her office taking with her the reports Waller had just signed. They'd called it a lateral transfer, but Waller knew better. It had been punishment, not for her role in Project Cadmus, but for ordering the attack on the Watchtower without Presidential consent. Most people were stunned that she still had a job. Waller, on the other hand, hated the title "liaison," and sometimes wished she'd been fired outright. She no longer made decisions; she just passed information along.

She was about to pick up the phone to cancel a luncheon date with Agent Faraday when he stepped out from behind a window drape.

"We have to talk," Batman said. Waller's eyes narrowed as she wondered how in the hell he got into her office undetected unless...he was being transported from the Watchtower.

Waller stood. "Make an appointment with my secretary," she snapped back.

"Now!" Batman snarled.

Waller walked up to him. "You don't scare me." She paused, staring him in the eyes. "I'll give you five minutes. The clock's running."

"That bank robbery in Metropolis the other day, Shayera didn't do it. But maybe you know who did."

Waller frowned. "It looked like Hawkgirl to me in the papers. You have four minutes and I'll save you thirty seconds. Any imposter you're looking for was not part of the Ultimen Project. And I'm going to save you another ten seconds. There was an attempt to clone Thanagarians, but it failed."

Batman's eyes widened in surprise and Waller secretly smiled. Yes, there had been a project to clone Thanagarians using the genetic materials of some of the killed invaders, but that project was halted when Galatea proved so successful.

"Maybe someone else took over the project," Batman said. His tone softened.

Waller shook her head. "Guess again. That fool, Milo, was in charge of the Thanagarian project. He's dead - killed by Doomsday. All of his notes were recovered and sealed. And by happenstance there was a fire in his lab the day after he died."

She could tell Batman was trying to hide his surprise by staring harder. "Save your stares for some one else. It was a different world then. It was business. You have two minutes."

"Tell me where I can find Doctor Emile Dorian. He was released early from prison and seems to have disappeared."

Waller prided herself on hiding her emotions, but the mention of Dorian's name had caught her off guard. She hadn't seen Dorian since she conducted his final inbound interview years ago. She frowned at the prospect that Batman had probably seen the look of recognition at the mention of Dorian's name. "Let's get something straight," she snarled in her most pointed voice. "I'm a liaison; not your step and fetch it service. You're looking for someone? You find them yourself!"

Batman stood over Waller. "Shayera didn't do this and we're not turning her over to any one. And if something happens to her or someone tries to take her by force, I assure you it will make your job as a liaison very difficult. Think about it."

Waller turned and walked back to desk to press her security button. "And I think your time is up." She turned around to face Batman and he was gone. She slowly shook her head. "I hate this job."

~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
CHAPTER THREE
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 Asking only workman's wages, I come looking for a job, but I get no offers
Just a come-on from the whores on Seventh Avenue
I do declare, there were times when I was so lonesome
I took some comfort there.

~~~~

Shayera's mace hung on the wall in her room in the Watchtower. She glanced at it before resuming staring out her window at the rotating planet below. She knew all about Superman's phantom zone projector in that room and she would later confide to Carter that she thought he was actually going to use it on her. Being summoned before them out of the blue like that was terrifying and she was increasingly becoming bitter with the knowledge that working together for almost ten years had no meaning to the rest of them. She'd never get the benefit of the doubt on anything.

She'd never forget this experience, they'd made sure of that and yet she wondered. As long as she was on this planet, would she ever stop paying for her part in the invasion or for simply being a Thanagarian?

Her thoughts were interrupted by a knock on the door.

"Who is it?" she called out.

"John!"

She didn't want to see anyone right now, least of all him. "This is not a good time. Go away," she answered.

She heard a click and pop and then her door opened and John strode in. "It was important that I see you," he said as he closed the distance to her.

"So you overrode the security system to open my door," Shayera said softly. She frowned and looked out the window again. "Everyone gets to override my wishes around here, don't they?" Her voice started to rise. "Oh, but wait! I forgot I'm the traitor and liar. I don't get a say in anything, do I?"

John frowned. "I just wanted to see you. Wally told me about you being blamed for a bank robbery and the miserable way they summoned you before them."

Shayera looked past John to her open door. "So did you come to ask me where I was when this crime against humanity was committed?"

"No and if I'd been here you wouldn't have been summoned before the others the way you were. They owe you more respect than to treat you like that."

Her frown matched his. "You don't get it, do you? You just opened my door without giving it a second thought. All of you can open my door anytime you want. How many doors do you think I can open? Go ahead. Guess. Did you say none? No one here trusts me. If an ant sneezes, I'm expected to explain my role in his catching cold. Don't kid yourself, John. You're not my protector. This traitorous alien doesn't have a protector on this planet."

She turned her back on him as she continued. "There's not a doubt in my mind Superman was going to send me to his phantom zone if I gave him the wrong answer. You weren't going to stop my being called to explain this or anything else that happens to me. This is my problem and despite your standing in my room now, you've made it clear to me you aren't interested in what happens to me or my future." She moved to her window, keeping her back to him. "Now go. I'm sure Vixen's looking for you. Probably has some take-out she wants you to get her or some foreign, exotic restaurant she wants you to take her to."

"Vixen's not my keeper. I'll leave when I'm ready and not before. And I'm not ready."

Shayera snapped her head around. She walked to the wall and removed her mace from its hook, glaring at John the entire time. "Now why doesn't that statement surprise me? I couldn't stop you from coming in here and I certainly can't make you leave, can I?" She walked to the door. "Then stay, but I'm leaving. Lock my door on your way out. I'm sure you have the code." She stopped at the doorway. "Just be careful you don't trip over the short leash Vixen has on you when you leave."

~~~~

The mochas Carter Hall made in his apartment were almost as good as those Wally use to make in the old Watchtower Shayera thought as she slowly sipped her drink. She needed this after her confrontation with John in her room. The comment about Vixen's short leash on John wasn't fair, but it felt good to say anyway.

John was probably trying to offer comfort in his own way. But accepting anything from him now only made things worse. He'd already stated he wasn't interested in building a future with her and honestly, John had been one of the reasons she hadn't left the planet yet. She frowned. She really didn't want to ask herself now the question she asked herself every night: If John was in love with someone else, why was she still here?

She leaned back on Carter's couch, allowing her wings to flex ever so gently, and sipped her drink. Carter sat across from her drinking an iced tea with the coffee table between them. Shayera reflected that had she been with John in his apartment at this moment she might have had a beer instead. But somehow, right now, a mocha and iced tea with Carter just seemed right.

They sat their drinks down. Carter's apartment was neat, but lavishly furnished; a stark contrast from John's sparely furnished place. He leaned forward toward Shayera who had leaned back against the sofa and now fully spread her wings in relaxation. She'd just closed her eyes when Carter asked, "So why didn't you tell them you were with me when the bank was being robbed?"

Shayera opened her eyes and stared into Carter's smile. She leaned forward. "I shouldn't have to tell them anything at all. They should know I wouldn't do such a thing."

Carter nodded and leaned back in his chair. "You're right. After all, they should know that because you have proven that you'll lie, kill and betray." He paused. "Yeah, it was pretty stupid of them to think that you might steal too."

Shayera frowned. "You've made your point. But if I was Diana or Superman, my integrity wouldn't be questioned."

Carter laughed and stood. "You obviously weren't on the planet when Superman went rogue, were you? Anyway, it's not like we did anything, but you shouldn't be ashamed to tell them I am your alibi." He walked back to his kitchen.

Shayera stood and followed. "You mean say something like: I couldn't have done it because I was playing chess with a man who believes he's my reincarnated husband."

He stopped and said without turning around. "You don't have to be kind. What you're trying not to say is that the nut job who thinks that he's the reincarnation of someone who supposedly killed you eight thousand years ago for being unfaithful, wouldn't be a credible witness, right?"

He turned around to face her and she saw the look of hurt in his face. "Oh, Carter, that's not it," she said. "I'm not ashamed of you, but you can't help me. I don't think anyone can."

He pointed to his coffee maker and said flatly, "More mocha?"

She shook her head and said, "My point is why should I have to prove anything to anyone on this planet?"

Carter turned and walked back to the living room. "You don't," he said as he gestured for her to sit down on the couch. She shook her head indicating she wanted to stand. "I know this will sound strange," he continued as he sat in his chair. "But just hear the 'nut job' out first, okay?"

She picked up her coffee cup as Carter continued. "Eight thousand years ago you and I ... " He stopped noting her expression of amusement. He grinned. "Let me start that again. Eight thousand years ago, two Thanagarians were stranded on this planet. But they adapted and survived ... no, they thrived. And you can do the same thing. Regardless of what you think about us being the spirits of those long dead people, I know what you're going through."

She rolled her eyes. "You do, huh?"

Carter nodded, stood and stepped closer to her. "You're stranded here. Shayera, I know what it means to a Thanagarian to be without a mask." He paused letting that sink in. "The others don't know ... they can't know, but I do. I know the significance of the colors you wear ... and the colors you don't wear."

She looked into his eyes. "Carter, you're very sweet and all, but ..."

He cut her off. "I'm not asking for us to be lovers. I'm not asking you to take my colors. Hell, I took yours." He flashed a quick smile as he added, "And I know whose colors you took."

He paused and frowned. "All I'm saying is that you don't have to be alone anymore. Anytime you want to talk, I can listen. Feel like playing chess, I can take you on. Feel like riding the thermals in the Grand Canyon, I'll go with you. Feel like sex, I'll try to accommodate." He flashed a smile at her shocked expression.

Shayera flopped down on the couch and was quiet for a moment. Then she snickered. "Let's start with three out of four." Her smirk widened. "Carter, this is a nice gesture on your part. But why? Aside from hope you might get lucky again one day."

Carter laughed out loud, sat down next to her and shook his head. "You couldn't be more wrong. I guess I could say it's something I think I owe you for being responsible for killing you a lifetime ago, but that would be a lie and it would only marginalize the truth. We both know how the story is supposed to end and your happiness is all that matters to me. Can you look me in the eyes and tell me you're happy with the way everything is between you and Lantern?"

He didn't wait for her to answer before adding, "I think not. I owe you something that I couldn't give you eight thousand years ago. I owe you friendship and that's what I'm offering you now; friendship and nothing more." He looked in her eyes. "I know what it is to love someone ... who loves someone else."

Shayera silently reflected for a moment on what Carter had said. Slowly her faint smile widened into a full grin as she picked up her cup and offered it to Carter. "Thank you, Carter; and I think I will have some more of that mocha, after all."

~~~~
(The next day)

Waller had just finished reading a report from the Seattle, Washington, division of S.T.A.R. Labs on psychology and psionics of meta-humans. She had questions that she wanted to have answers for before she passed a copy of the report back to the Justice League. She was startled by Batman's voice as he said, "I got your message. You have something for me."

Waller turned to find him standing behind her. She quickly overcame her surprise. "I have a front door and a secretary," she snapped. "Use them!"

Batman said nothing, not even a 'thank you' as she handed him an envelope. "Dorian is working for the Government at Mercury Labs on a project that involves animal DNA augmentation."

Batman tucked the envelope in a pocket in his cape. "That was his forte," he replied. "Years ago he altered the DNA of a friend of mine."

Waller cut him off. "We know all about his creation of Tygrus and his experiment on Selina Kyle in an effort to create a mate for his 'man-cat.'"

Batman's eyes narrowed. "And you let him work for you anyway. That doesn't surprise me."

Waller shook her head and said in her most pointed voice. "I'm not going to debate this with you. There is tremendous military application for a method that allows a whole army to temporarily gain the night vision capability of a cat or the foot speed of a leopard."

"Or the flying ability of a bird!"

Waller knew what Batman was implying. "That too, but I want to be clear on this. Dorian's work is important - more important than the Thanagarian. You understand what I'm saying."

She handed Batman a small plastic baggie that contained a couple of bird feathers. "Here. This came from the bank robbery. It was found near the door."

Batman took the baggie, gave it a cursory look and put it away. "Now, let me be clear," he snarled. "Shayera is more important to me than Dorian - or his work. She will not take the fall for this."

Waller raised her eyebrows and repeated, "And I want you to listen carefully. I will not sacrifice Dorian's work. Dorian will be going home early tonight. His lab door will be unguarded and the video camera in the room will be off between 9:15 and 9:30 for downloading and transfer to tape." She paused before adding. "If you're going to do this, don't let sentimentality stand in your way of doing it right."

~~~~
(Two hours later)

Batman sat in front of the Metrotower research computer with the information that Waller had given him earlier spread out in front of him. He was surprised that she had included building plans for the facility. Her words still echoed in his ear about sentimentality. She was trying to make a point, but he hadn't deduced what it might be yet. He pressed his finger to his ear. "Batman to Shayera."

"Go ahead," she answered.

"I need to see you now at the Metrotower," he said. He picked up the baggie Waller had given him and held it up to the light.

"One second. Give us a moment to land."

Us? He dropped the baggie on the papers in front of him. "Where are you?"

"The Grand Canyon."

Batman was silent for a second before replying. "I'm in the computer room."

"Right. Shayera out."

A few minutes later, Shayera and Hawkman walked into the room. When Shayera had said 'us,' Batman didn't think she meant Hall.

Hall extended his hand to Batman and said, "Good to see you, Batman."

Batman looked at the hand for a moment and ignored it along with Shayera's growl for him not shaking Hall's hand. "How long were you in the canyon?" Batman asked her.

"Maybe an hour or two, why?" The anger was still apparent in her voice.

"And you?" he said to Hall. "Were you with her?"

"I was. Now tell me, why does she need an alibi?" Hall answered. "That's obviously what you're getting to. Well, I was with her." Batman frowned and narrowed his eyes.

Hall didn't seem fazed as he added, "And the time before that, too."

"Carter!" Shayera exclaimed. Batman wasn't sure whether Shayera's exclamation was one of embarrassment or anger. The longer he thought about it, he decided it was anger.

Hall shook off Shayera's look as he said, "Look, this is Batman. If he didn't know already, he would have found out before too long." He turned to Batman. "So what happened?"

Batman looked at Shayera with raised eyebrows. "Hawkgirl just smashed the front window of a jewelry store and took a couple of hundred dollars worth of jewelry half an hour ago."

Shayera didn't hide her confusion. "That makes no sense. Why would some one rob a bank and take two hundred dollars or steal a couple of hundred dollars worth of jewelry?"

"To drive home the point that Hawkgirl is a criminal," Batman said. "And to make it harder for us not to turn you over to the authorities for questioning."

Shayera inhaled sharply and folded her arms across her chest. "I can face the authorities."

"Sure you can," Batman said in his most sarcastic tone. "And exactly how long do you think you'd survive as a 'guest' of the authorities?"

Hall stepped next to Shayera. "No one is turning her over, right?"

Hall wasn't sure and Batman decided to leave him that way as he looked at Shayera. "I thought we'd already had this discussion," Batman said firmly.

Shayera looked away from Batman's gaze before she sighed. Her shoulders slumped. "Okay, it was a bad idea, but I can't sit here and do nothing while what little good reputation I have left is destroyed by some imposter."

"That's right," Batman answered. "You can't sit here and do nothing. I need a flight feather." He turned to Hall. "From each of you."

Hall's eyes widened.

~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
CHAPTER FOUR
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Now the years are rolling by me, they are rocking even me
I am older than I once was, and younger than I'll be, that's not unusual
No it isn't strange, after changes upon changes, we are more or less the same
After changes we are more or less the same.

~~~~

Dennis Cuvier fumbled with the two bags of fast food as he knocked on the door of Kimmy's third floor apartment. Her five-floor apartment complex didn't have an elevator and Dennis was winded from climbing all those stairs.

He'd met Kimmy in college and had fallen in love with her. He knew she loved him as well, but not as deeply as he loved her. They'd been lovers over the last four years, but with Kimmy it was just sex, it was never 'making love.' Sometimes Dennis got the feeling that he was just a 'tool' to her and those feelings had intensified since the death of her mother.

Dennis had considered walking away from her when it became clear that she was using him to get assigned to Doctor Dorian's staff. But that was all he did - consider it. He knew he could never leave her if there was a chance that she would really care for him the way he cared for her.

"Who is it?" she called out from behind the door.

"Dennis...with dinner."

She opened her door and let him in. She looked terrible, he thought, and she was shivering underneath the blanket she had wrapped around her. She took one of bags from him and placed it on the table in the living room and sat down.

Her TV set was on the local news channel where some man was being interviewed about Hawkgirl being a criminal. Kimmy was smiling through her obvious discomfort.

"It's all over the news," Dennis said, realizing he was stating the obvious. "There have even been a couple of newspaper and TV editorials calling for Hawkgirl to turn herself in." He sat down next to Kimmy, placing the other bag of food on the table. Her blanket shifted, opening a bit and he realized she was naked underneath it.

She took a sip of the clear soda Dennis had brought for her. "I know. It won't be long now," she said. "One or two more appearances, then there will be more than enough calls for her to be locked up."

Dennis shook his head and wrapped his arm around her. "Kim, you know I love you and will do just about anything for you, but I'm not sure about this anymore. It took you almost 12 hours to recover from the effects of the last mutagen injection."

Kimmy moved away from Dennis' arm and stood. "But I did recover. The antidote works almost instantly, reversing the effects of the mutagen injection."

"Yeah, but it takes you almost twelve hours to recover from the mental side effects." And Dennis wasn't sure any more that she was fully recovered after the twelve hours.

Kimmy gave a small smile. It was the smile that he fell in love with. "But I did recover," she said, "and that's what important."

Dennis stood. "Yeah, but what happens if you encounter one of the Justice League or even Hawkgirl herself? Suppose someone shoots at you? Suppose you get shot."

Kimmy frowned at Dennis and wrapped the blanket around herself a little tighter. "I'll cross that bridge when I come to it. The goal is to get that dirty hawk punished for letting her people kill my mother. When she's behind bars then there will be some justice for my mom." She paused shaking her head and she looked up into Dennis' face. "I just know that if the Government can get her in custody alone, they'll never let her get out alive."

Dennis reached around to hug her. "Look, I just worry about you coming out of this alive." He paused before adding, "And whole." He leaned down to kiss her, but she pulled away and stepped out of his embrace.

"I know you worry, lover," she said. "So do I. Now you need to get off to the lab. Let the doc know I'll be in to do the research cataloging in the morning. I need to rest for a couple of more hours then get the costume ready for Hawkgirl's next appearance."

Dennis nodded and watched her walk back to her bedroom and close her door. He looked at the bags on the coffee table and then to the front door. As he let himself out, he wondered how much longer he could go on with her.

Or without her.

~~~~
(That night)

Batman never took anything for granted. Waller had told him that security for the facility would be minimized between 9:15 and 9:30, but Batman trusted no one. He decided he would get to the lab before Waller's 'minimal security' went into effect.

At 9 PM, fifteen minutes ahead of schedule, he attacked the video room security guard, gassing him to leave him unconscious for thirty minutes. After disabling the video camera controls, he made his way to Dorian's lab.

He had expected to confront at least one of the security personnel in the hallway, but no one was there. He turned the handle on the lab door. It was unlocked. He entered, locking the door behind him. The room was dark and using a small flashlight, he made his way smartly to a multi-drawer file cabinet in a corner of the room. Quickly picking the lock, he opened the drawer and searched the files. With his usual efficient style, he thumbed through the papers discovering that Dorian had initially started working on human DNA augmentation using leopard and Cooper's Hawk DNA. The record showed that work on the Cooper's Hawk augmentation had stopped three years ago because the test subjects later developed a psychosis whereas with the leopard DNA they did not.

He examined the photographs of the Cooper's Hawk test subjects and he saw the progression of control of the placement of the wings on the body. In the first set of photos, the test subjects had feathers all over their bodies and reminded him of the bang baby, Talon, who he met when he went to the city of Dakota and worked with Static. In later photos, the wings and feathers were isolated to the back of the test subjects and reminded him of a Thanagarian. A Hawkman.

He closed the file and pondered that someone had gotten hold of the mutagens from this project and was now using it. It was simply a matter of determining who and he wondered who had access to this work. He searched the files for the names of Dorian's assistants and his jaw dropped when he came across the name of Kimberly Ventris.

Oh no, he thought. Was this what Waller meant about sentimentality? He recalled that he'd tried to find Kimberly after learning her mother had died during the Thanagarian invasion, but she had disappeared without a trace. Later, he discovered that her father, Lloyd, had died in prison shortly before her mother did. Now, he felt ashamed to think that he had forgotten about her when finding her had been such a priority in the early days after the invasion. He looked up the home address of Ventris, the other assistant Cuvier and then Dorian.

He'd just put the files back in the cabinet when he heard the handle of the lab door jiggle. "Watchtower! Transport me to the Metrotower," he whispered pressing his finger against his ear. He was transported before the lab door opened.

It was 9:14.

~~~~

Kimberly wasn't sure what woke her up, but her sleep had been restless. She glanced at her alarm clock.

11:57 PM

She turned over and closed her eyes. Suddenly she opened them again and sat up. Her bedroom window was open and she distinctly remembered closing it before she went to bed.

"Hello, Kimmy," a deep voice said out of the darkness. Her heart quickened. She hadn't heard that voice in years.

"Batman?" She pulled her bed covering up to her neck. How long had he been in the room? Had he found her Hawkgirl outfit? "What are you doing here?" she bluffed.

"How'd you end up working for Dorian?" Batman said as he stepped out of the shadows.

"What? No 'how are you doing'?" she responded. "No 'how are your mom and dad'? Instead you sneak into my bedroom like you did when I was a little girl." An idea crossed her mind. She tossed the covers aside she'd been holding up to her neck revealing that she slept in the nude. "Do I still look like a little girl to you?"

Batman didn't move or say anything. He just continued to stare at her and after a moment or two of silence, suddenly Kimberly felt uncomfortable and reached for her robe at the foot of her bed. She put it on and got out of bed.

"I heard about your mother," Batman said. "And about your father. Also how you used a ten year old check to pay for your mother's funeral."

"What? There wasn't a problem with the check, was there? I told the undertaker to use it to pay for the funerals for others killed by those murdering hawks."

"The check was honored. How did the Thanagarians kill your mother?"

Tears formed in her eyes. "After we left Gotham when I was child, we moved to Metropolis. Shortly afterwards, that check from Mister Wayne arrived and my mom said the check was intended for my college fund. Apparently there was some sort of cash grant for college that Mister Wayne gave to children of criminals. At least that's what my mom said.

"But she didn't want to take charity so she never cashed the check, but told me if I need the money, it was mine. My mom worked hard to send me to college, never taking a dime she didn't earn. I worked and got a scholarship and then an internship at S.T.A.R. Labs and they also helped pay for my college. Then the invasion occurred. My mom was working as a waitress in a restaurant in Metropolis. She and I were supposed to meet for lunch at the park right off the Metropolis pier. I was late because I working on a weapon that shot dark colored, opaque plastic cocoons to exploit what we thought was a Thanagarian weakness, claustrophobia. My mom was in the park when a Thanagarian ship crashed into the bay. The crash generated ten-foot high waves that swept over the pier and washed over the park. My mother drowned and was swept out to the bay. It took two days for them to recover her body. That's how they killed her." She paused as she wiped away the tears. "Those dirty hawks killed my mother and they never paid for that. None of them paid for taking her from me and every single one of them should have, including the one you work with."

Batman said nothing for a moment and then repeated: "How'd you end up working for Dorian?"

Kimberly inhaled sharply. "We met and he offered me a job. Now you'll excuse me, but I want you to leave."

Batman moved to the open window. "You give Dorian a message. You tell him I've not forgotten he's already hurt a friend of mine. If I discover that he's responsible for this fake Hawkgirl as well, he'll find this planet is not big enough for him to hide on." He removed a device from his cape and shot something out the window. Then he stood there for a long moment with his back to her, blocking Kimberly's view of what he was doing. He looked down toward the windowsill and then dived out the window.

Kimberly ran to window and as she watched him swing out of sight, she shouted, "I'm not your messenger."

She closed the window and took a deep breath. She needed a drink.

Badly.

Suddenly she thought about her Hawkgirl costume and ran to her living room to check on it. She opened her living room closet and pulled out the stepstool that was inside, leaning, against the wall. She stood on the stool, pushed against the closet ceiling and removed a one-foot by two-foot ceiling panel. The costume was still there; hidden along with her helmet and wig exactly where she'd left it and it didn't look to have been disturbed. She put the panel back and stepped down off the stepstool.

As she walked to the kitchen, she considered making that drink a double.

~~~~

Carter, in his Hawkman guise, and Shayera watched Batman swing away from a third floor apartment window. Carter was surprised by the woman who came to window and yelled at Batman something about not being his messenger. They then watched as Batman swung away and then circled so he joined them on the rooftop after the woman had closed her window and turned out her light.

"Well?" Shayera asked.

"She knows something about the fake Hawkgirl," Batman said. "I'm sure of it."

"What makes you say that?" Carter asked, ignoring Shayera's 'this is Batman you're talking to' look.

Batman held his fist out toward Carter. "This!" he said as he opened his hand revealing a bunch of downy feathers in his palm. "They were on the windowsill."

Shayera shrugged her shoulders. "From birds sitting on the outside of the sill."

Batman closed his hand and put the feathers in his belt. "These were inside the room."

"If they match the ones from the bank holdup, then she's the fake Hawkgirl," Carter offered. For moment he really felt like he was contributing and he would later tell Shayera it was a great feeling until she said, "If they match, Carter, it only means that the fake was inside the room. It doesn't mean it was her."

Then Shayera turned to Batman. "But what I don't understand is why. Why me?"

"Your people killed her mother," he said. Shayera frowned and Batman added, "That is, according to her. But that's not the whole story. Her mother drowned when a Thanagarian ship crashed into Metropolis harbor. It was most likely the prison ship that the rest of us were held on. We caused it to crash during our escape; so in a way, all seven of us are responsible for her death."

Carter heard Shayera's sharp intake of air, but she didn't say anything. For a moment, Carter felt sorry for Shayera and was sure she'd internalize this news into more guilt. As if she needed more of that in her life.

Batman frowned as he continued. "She wants revenge on all Thanagarians, probably through you." Then he turned to Carter and put his finger to his ear, "Hall, watch her window. Call me if she has any visitors that come through the window. Watchtower, beam Shayera and me up."

Before he could say anything both Shayera and Batman were gone. Carter gritted his teeth and cursed into the darkness, "Sure Batman. I have nothing else to do. I'll stand guard all night, but only cause you asked so damn nice! And for your information, Bats, it's Hawkman and you can go straight to hell!"

~~~~

"That was rude, even for you," Shayera snapped when they materialized in the Watchtower transporter. Batman started walking away, down the corridor, but Shayera wasn't going to let this one go quite yet. "Carter isn't one of your sidekicks," she continued. "He's the only one trying to help me."

Batman stopped and turned around to face her. She sighed loudly. "You know what I meant. He's trying to be helpful," she amended.

"I'm more interested in what you plan to do if the Ventris woman is the fake Hawkgirl."

Shayera would later admit to John that she was surprised at Batman's question. "Take her down. What else would I do?"

Batman wrapped his cape around himself. "Not this time. I'll be the one to deal with her. If she's responsible I'll handle her."

Shayera arched her eyebrows. "What? You have some history with her?"

Batman was silent.

"You do, don't you?" she continued. "What is she? Some old girlfriend?"

"No," Batman said emphatically. "But she's my responsibility." He turned and walked away as he said, "And mine alone."

Shayera folded her arms across her chest and frowned as she watched Batman walk away. "She may have been yours before," she mumbled under her breath, "but if she's that fake Hawkgirl, she's mine!"

~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
CHAPTER FIVE
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In the clearing stands a boxer, and a fighter by his trade
And he carries the reminders of every glove that laid him down or cut him
'til he cried out in his anger and his shame
"I am leaving, I am leaving," but the fighter still remains.

~~~~
(The next day)

Dennis listened in horror as Kimmy told him about Batman's visit last night. A visit from Batman could only mean one thing -- that he was on to her...on to them. Surely, Batman had to know that the Cooper's Hawk project was officially halted. But Kimmy had been so set on getting revenge on Hawkgirl -- or whatever the Thanagarian called herself now days -- that he and Kimmy had continued to work on it without Dorian's knowledge.

Now he regretted that. He thought they had reduced the side-effects of the drug, but Kimmy's continued obsession with using it was causing him some concern. She seemed fixated on getting vengeance to the exclusion of everything else.

She was pacing in her living room, mumbling under her breath while Dennis could only sit on the sofa and watch. Finally, Dennis stood and stepped into Kimmy's path. She stopped, looked at him like she didn't know him and then walked around him. He grabbed her by the shoulders and spun her around to face him. Slowly, a look of recognition came across her face as he said, "Listen to me, Kimmy. I love you, but you've got to stop this. I think we need to start monitoring the side effects more aggressively."

She growled, "Say it! You think it's driving me mad."

Dennis let her go. "I didn't say that," he said defensively. "I don't think you're mad, but it's starting to take longer than twelve hours for you to recover. Listen to me. You had a visit from Batman last night. He must be on to you. Think about what he said. He told you to deliver a message to Dorian. From what I've heard about him, Batman delivers his own messages. I think those words were to you, not Dorian."

Kimmy stared at him like she was trying to process not just the words, but their actual meaning. Finally she said, "Batman and I have history because of my father. I don't know how he knew I worked with Dorian, but it doesn't matter. I need Hawkgirl to appear one more time, then I promise, regardless of what happens, I won't take any more of the stuff. Okay?"

Dennis noticed the emphasis on the 'okay' as if she was asking permission. But Dennis knew she really wasn't. She was going to do whatever she wanted to do whether he concurred or not. His brain said 'don't agree with her' but his heart said 'help her again.'

"Okay, one more time," he said softly. "Because you promised. Look, there's a jewelry store on the corner of Fifth and Ripper Streets that will give you an easy getaway."

"No," she said as she sat down on the sofa. "These robberies aren't getting it done. Hawkgirl has to kill someone and I know who it has to be."

Dennis' eyes widened in disbelief. "What?!?"

~~~~
(two hours later)

Hall had reported that the Ventris woman had had no visitors; at least, none that had flown in the window. Batman adjusted the flame under the Bunsen burner. He was working on an antidote in the science lab at the Metrotower based on the notes he'd seen when he visited Mercury Labs.

"Hand me the nitrate," he said to Shayera.

"Here," she said as she handed him the container he asked for. "Do you think this will work?"

"Based on the notes I saw," he said, "I should be able to replicate the mutagen antidote for the Cooper's Hawk DNA splicing." He paused and added the nitrate to the flask on the burner, then shook his head. "The notes indicated they created two variations of the mutagen: one temporary, one permanent. The temporary one has all the side effects. The permanent one has none."

Satisfied with the chemical results he took the flask off the burner and set it aside. He prepared the mutagen vials. Suddenly there was a knock on the lab door.

Shayera raised her eyebrows. "Expecting someone?"

Batman shook his head and Shayera went to the door. A civilian worker gave Shayera an envelope. She looked at it and then closed the lab door after thanking the worker.

She watched as Batman loaded the vials, now containing the anti-mutagen, into an injector gun and then gave him the envelope when he was finished. "It's clean. The staff scanned it," she said.

He took the packet and looked at it. It was addressed:

'Batman - regarding Hawkgirl'.

He opened the envelope and silently read the letter. After a moment, Shayera said, "Fan mail from some flounder?"

Batman ignored her, reflecting that she'd been hanging around the Flash too long, picked up a pencil from the lab table and wrote on the envelope. Then he gave the letter and its envelope to Shayera and re-inspected the injector as she read.

"Are you sure about this? It could be trap," she pointed out after reading the paper.

"Could be, but I don't think so. This makes too much sense. Have Hawkman meet us at the address I wrote on the envelope tonight at 7:45."

Shayera nodded in acknowledgement and started toward the door. She stopped suddenly and turned. "Wait! You called Carter 'Hawkman.' Are you getting sentimental?" She grinned.

Batman placed the injector in his utility belt and flashed a faint smile. "Don't you have a call to make?"

~~~~

Dorian yawned. He was tired but the project was just about finished and ready for him to transfer his research to another facility. After years of working for the Government, Dorian thought he'd finally figured it out. No one in the Government ever does a 'cradle to grave' project. The work he and his staff did on DNA augmentation would be transferred to another facility where someone else would work on it and advance the technology.

He glanced at his watch. It was 9 p.m. But this would be his last night working late, at least, on this particular project. He'd been told that he would get another project in a week or so and he was excited about the continued work.

Dorian sat at his computer entering his final notes. Every now and then, he'd look up and see his assistant, Cuvier, glancing at the clock or at the video cameras. Finally, Curvier stood and said, "Doc? Do you have a problem if I open the window? I just need to get a little air."

Dorian nodded and watched as Cuvier opened the window a couple of inches. Cuvier was a good assistant and Dorian knew he was lucky to have him. His other assistant, Ventris, was another story. She started off great and just sort of lost interest in her work over the last year.

Dorian recalled that first night he met Miss Ventris. Once they were in her room that night, she was singularly focused on trying to convince him that the Cooper's Hawk should be added to the project list. When he questioned her as to why that particular bird, she produced charts and graphs showing that the wing spread from that bird could proportional support human weight for extended flight.

Charts and graphs. He could laugh about it now, but at the time he didn't think it was so funny. He hadn't been with a woman in years and he left the bar with the impression that she was prepared to help him recall what one felt like. Then she gave him a presentation on birds.

Birds!

The word 'disappointment' didn't come close to describe what he felt at the moment she showed him the first chart.

But she was a smart, dedicated and bright woman singularly focused on the Cooper's Hawk. After the bird project was halted, that woman seemed to disappear, replaced by someone who no longer seemed interested in whether or not the project succeeded.

Dorian sent his computer notes to the printer, stood up and stretched. He glanced at Cuvier who yawned before retrieving Dorian's notes from the machine.

"Want these notes filed now, doc?" Dorian asked.

Dorian smiled. "Yeah. Tomorrow we'll prepare the final report and turn over all data to the agency." He paused and took a deep breath. "It feels good to finally complete this project. Don't you think so?"

"I do, Doc," Cuvier said returning the smile. "I just wish Kimmy could have been here tonight. Wish she hadn't called in sick."

The smile faded from Dorian's face. "She's missed a lot of work lately. You know Mister Cuvier, I'm sure I'll be offered another project soon. How would you like to be my permanent assistant?"

Cuvier's face lit up. "Wow. Sure, Doc. I know Kim will be excited too when I tell her."

Dorian frowned. "Mister Cuvier, I don't think you completely understand. I only need one assistant and it will not be Miss Ventris. Now, Mister Cuvier, are you interested in the position or not?"

Before Cuvier could answer, Hawkgirl smashed the window open with a crash, flew into the room and landed next to Dorian. She glanced at the cameras and approached Dorian, raising her mace.

Curvier shouted "No!" as he jumped between Hawkgirl and Dorian. Dorian thought that Hawkgirl seemed confused for a moment before she hit Cuvier with her mace. Cuvier hit the floor hard and slumped in a heap. She turned and raised her mace to hit Dorian when a batarang with a line attached to it, wrapped around the mace and yanked it from her hand. Both Hawkgirl and Dorian turned to see Batman in the room.

"Give it up Kimberly! It's over," Batman said in the menacing voice Dorian hadn't heard in years.

Kimberly? Kimberly Ventris?

The winged woman, dived to the floor to retrieve the mace, apparently surprising Batman because the line slipped out of his hand. She then ran to the window and leaped out. Batman ran to the window behind her. Dorian saw him take something out of his cape or belt, he wasn't sure which it was, and yell out the window, "Hawkman!"

Dorian watched Batman toss whatever it was he had out the window, before he went to check on Cuvier.

~~~~

Carter watched as the fake Hawkgirl flew out of the window and headed south. Shayera, who was circling overhead, followed the faker unseen. Batman came to the window and yelled, "Hawkman!" Then he tossed the anti-mutagen injector to him. Carter caught the device and took off after the fake Hawkgirl and Shayera.

They had a huge head start on him and it took all of his concentration and effort to catch up with them. "Shayera," he yelled as he held up the mutagen device so she could see it. He watched in awe as Shayera dived down on the faker like an owl hunting a field mouse.

No. It was more like a Peregrine Falcon hunting a sparrow.

"Why don't you take on a real Thanagarian, you fraud?" Shayera shouted as she hit the faker in the back like a bullet.

The phony screamed from the blow as she was forced down, but then she spun around to face Shayera, her fake wings still flapping. "You killed my mother," she screamed as she swung her mace at Shayera. "I'll kill you!"

Shayera easily dodged the wild swing and Carter was surprised that Shayera kept her mace clipped to her belt and didn't use it for defense.

"I don't want to hurt you, but you're leaving me no choice," Shayera said as she flew over the top of the faker's last swing and hit her, knocking her out. Carter caught the falling phony and injected her with the antidote.

As he landed with the unconscious woman, he and Shayera watched, in fascination, as the woman's wings disappeared within minutes. Carter set the woman down on the ground as Batman arrived on the scene. Batman bent down and gently cradled the woman's head in his lap.

He tenderly removed her helmet and red-haired wig to reveal the blonde-haired Kimberly Ventris. Carter picked up the helmet and offered it to Shayera. She shook her head and Carter dropped the mask. It hit the ground with a 'clank' just as the police arrived.

Shayera then picked up the Ventris' woman's mace and offered it to Carter. He was surprised to find out it was lightweight aluminum, similar to a baseball bat. Batman gently assisted the police in putting the woman on a stretcher and then he turned to Shayera. "Thank you for not hurting her."

Shayera gently smiled. "She didn't know she had a friend looking out for her." She paused and looked Batman in the eyes. "If she did, she'd tell you 'thank you.'" The smile Batman gave her was so faint and so fleeting that if he'd blinked at that moment, Carter would have missed it.

Carter was struck with a tremendous sense of sadness as he watched Batman stare at the police ambulance as it drove away. Batman turned and started to walk away, then he stopped, turned back and said. "Good work, Hawkman!" Then he fired a grapple in the air and swung away.

Carter's smile didn't leave his face the rest of the week.

~~~~

~~~~~~~~~~~~
EPILOGUE
~~~~~~~~~~~~

The day after his confrontation with Shayera in her room, John called a meeting of the other five, without Shayera's knowledge, and demanded that her level of authorization to access any and every League facility and space be set to the same level as the other six. He also wanted security procedures changed so it would take access codes from at least two of the seven to open the private quarters of any of the original members. At the same meeting, Batman insisted a seventh chair be added to the tribunal room. There were no dissenting votes on any of these matters.

Shayera would never forget Carter's loyalty to her during this period. And in the end, she became very proud of the hero he would turn out to be. She made a point of working with him to develop his aerial fighting skills. This training paid off when Carter and Batman took down the super-villain, the Matter Master, after he'd trapped the rest of the League in a hyper-space dimension.

Sadly, Shayera would have to read about this event in the League archives since it would happen thirteen months after she and John Stewart were thrown forward in time by the Toyman and presumed dead. Over coffee, she would later tell Merina, her son Rex's mate, that it was Carter's unrequited and overt love and steadfast belief in her that helped her the most during a very difficult time in her life when she was unable to see that there were others that cared for her as well.

~~~~

Dennis Cuvier would continue to work with Dorian on DNA splicing technology for the Government. He never stood trial for his complicity in the thefts. And he never told Kimberly that he was the one who tipped off Waller, who passed the information to Batman, as to her plans the night she was captured. Cuvier and Dorian's work broke new ground when they developed the nanotech solution that allowed for the overwriting of reproductive DNA.

Amanda Waller would later use Cuvier as her point of contact to provide her with the technology for Project Batman Beyond. It would be Cuvier who would actually inject Warren McGinnis with the nanotech technology that would replace Warren's DNA with that of Bruce Wayne. The technology proved successful with the birth of Terry McGinnis.

Cuvier would later marry and have a son named Abel who would inherit his father's notes and science skills. Abel Cuvier would later open the Chimera Institute, which created the teen fad of splicing -- the mixing of animal and human DNA. When District Attorney, Sam Young and his wife, Police Commissioner, Barbara Gordon, launched a campaign to halt the fad, Abel Cuvier attempted to have the couple assassinated. The assassination was prevented by Batman (Terry McGinnis) using the same antidote Bruce Wayne had use on Kimberly Ventris years before.

~~~~

Kimberly Ventris was found guilty of grand larceny and attempted murder. She was sentenced to ten years in the Metropolis Women's Detention Center. She spent one year in psychiatric care before being placed in the general prison population to serve the remainder of her sentence.

Bruce Wayne testified at her first parole hearing and she was released contingent upon her accepting a position at Wayne Labs. Kimberly accepted and she assisted that organization in the discovery of twelve patentable technologies over the next twenty years. One of the technologies she would work on would be an improvement to Doctor Abner Carrows' invisible electrified plastic, which her father had stolen decades before. Her improvement would allow for the weaving of the electrified plastic into metal threads, which Bruce Wayne would adapt and use in the Batsuit that would later be worn by Terry McGinnis.

Kimberly Ventris never married and died at the age of fifty-two. She never forgave the Thanagarians for the death of her mother.

END

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

 

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