Suicide Squad: The Genesis Sanction

Issue 4

The explosion clouded the rooftop in dust in a millisecond. Tresser was spun around by the shockwave and landed in a roll, slamming to an ungainly halt at the base of the building's water tower. Batman, who'd taken the brunt of the blast, whipped straight back with a grunt, flaring his cape out to slow his flight, though not enough to stop him careening into the tower at well over a hundred miles an hour. Dazed, he slammed home hard against the rooftop, as the huge reservoir began to creak ominously.

Tresser rolled out of the way as rivets started popping from under him, the wrought iron base of the tower peeling free from its foundations, bars fully snapping. Batman struggled from his back, blood dripping murkily from his lips. The water tower fell over entirely.

Nemesis slid to a halt, next to Batman, remnants of wrought iron supports in hand. The tower bore down on them, its height spanning the full width of the rooftop, and slammed down. The wrought iron grating punctured the thick hide of the reservoir, the crossbar ramming into its wall, bringing the entire descent to a quivering halt.

Water began to drip, not slowly, from the tower, the patter landing on Batman's upturned face. He jerked awake and took stock of the situation immediately, if hazily - Nemesis's gritted teeth, as he wrestled to control the wrought iron bars that were scratching furiously, creaking awfully, against the rooftop, under the weight of tons of water. The skin of the reservoir began to swell and the output of the leak increased from a steady drip to a faucet-like rush.

"Take this," Batman wheezed, unclipping his battered grapnel gun from his belt, skidding it along the newly slippery roof to Tresser. Tom's gaze flicked to it.
"You take it. Get clear," he snapped.

The helicopter's unmistakable whiplike rotors became quickly audibly again, and, even from under the cover of the tower, Tom could see the distinctive sneering face of The Head, wielding an oversized machine gun. The criminal organizer opened fire at Batman and Nemesis, the huge rounds chipping up the rooftop.

"Someone needs to take The Head out or neither of us get clear," Batman rasped. "Maybe nobody gets clear again. And - like this - right now - I'm..not the surer bet. Besides-"

He reached under his cape and came up with a second, smaller grapnel launcher that clicked and whirred as it affixed itself to the lower part of his gauntlet. Despite everything - the stakes, his reputation, his injuries, maybe even because of all three - he smirked.

"-I've got another."

Nemesis glanced down again at the tool at his feet. The water gushing from the tower, gushing from between his hands, was now sliding the gun slowly away from him. Batman rolled slowly, gingerly, to his front, onto his knees, baring his teeth as bones audibly cracked with the motion. Tom took a shallow breath, cocking his head.

"If this is it..."
"It isn't. You're too good for that. It's why I'm telling you to GO!"

Both men moved in unison, Nemesis releasing the wrought iron, his wrists burning in agony, and scooping up the grapnel gun, while Batman fired his away from the helicopter, the piton clicking into the wall of a neighboring building. The wrought iron, without Nemesis's grip stabilizing it, immediately caved inwards with a horrible scream, and Tom dove onto his front, firing the grapnel gun at the helicopter.

His line whipped around the skids of the helicopter and the gun yanked him free from under the tower just as it came down entirely in a massive blast of water. Tracer rounds pelted snowball-sized chunks of brick and concrete from around Nemesis as he frantically skidded along the rooftop, winched by the grapnel, his slide assisted by the water coating the rooftop.

Nemesis heard shouts as Batman began to clear the street below of civilians, but forced himself to tune it out as the edge of the building neared. With a grunt, he leapt up into open air, The Head's machine gun still strumming lowly, having finally gotten a bead on Tom. Tresser's mad swing under the helicopter saved him from thorough perforation, but he was still almost instantly hit with three bullets, dotting a rough line from his lower abdomen up to his shoulder and straight through his scalp. He suddenly, involuntarily, went limp, hanging by one arm from the helicopter, dangling above Gotham City.