Mister America’s eyes fluttered open slowly, the loud drone of engines jarring his aching head. Dim light stabbed into his eyes as he tried to focus his gaze, and get a sense of his surroundings. What he saw left him dismayed and he clenched his teeth.
Ahead of him was the Obsidian Casket, as Hippolyta had called it. Jet-black, and littered with silvery sigils that seemed to reflect more light than actually shone on them, it now also served to hold up the Amazon Queen. She was bound face-down against it, her legs spread to either side of the artifact and chained to the floor. He couldn’t be sure of the rest of her, for the angle he rested at, against the cabin wall; he could only see her lower body, strong, thick legs straining at her bonds in futility. He averted his gaze, realizing what else he could see of Wonder Woman from that angle and the way these Nazi fiends had her displayed, and ground his teeth harder. He felt his own wrists bound tightly at his back, and then took a deep breath, filling his lungs and giving a controlled exhale. He had to calm himself; being angry wasn’t going to help anyone.
“So, Mister America, you have chosen to join us again, have you?” Baron Blitzkrieg sneered, looking down on the patriotic figure. “You are in time to watch us at last gain the contents of the Casket.” He pointed to his dwarfish associate and shouted, “Zwerg! Schneiden sie ihre handgelenke!”
Zwerg gave a cruel grin and stepped up. He pulled out a thin blade that he then used to cut at Wonder Woman’s wrists, as best he could along the edge of her metal bracelets. Hippolyta grunted, but stifled more of her sounds of pain as she felt the cuts tear through her skin. She glared at the man angrily, saying nothing with words. Even bound, helpless and cut open, the fierce look made Zwerg cringe and step back quickly when his work was done. Bound together on top of the casket in thick chains, the blood from her wounds dripped onto the lid of the Casket, making Hippolyta even more desperate now.
Mister America was sure the sigils seemed to glow even brighter now as he watched what he could of the brutal display, but struggled to remain calm. “You don’t even know what you have in there, do you?” he asked, voice low, heart pounding despite his attempts, knowing that time would run out. Fortunately, the wounds to Hippolyta’s wrists couldn’t be too severe by virtue of her bracelets and chains, so he had time. He hoped. If he only he could get a better view to be sure.
”Whatever lurks inside can be mastered by our sorcerers, rest assured,” Blitzkrieg snapped back, taking a step toward the bound man. “You will get to see first-hand, before we have you executed. It is only too bad that Wonder Woman’s death must bring open the Casket, I would so love for her to see our moment of triumph.”
“Sir! Es gibt ein fremdes Flugzeug, das uns sich nähert,” A soldier stood at attention and saluted Blitzkrieg as he gave his report. “Es erschien gerade aus nirgendwo heraus!”
Blitzkrieg spun to face the soldier, and he gave a growl of frustration at the news. He spun back to Mister America and narrowed his eyes behind that expressionless gold faceplate. “One plane? To follow us? You are not that foolish. Who is aboard that plane?”
Terry, of course, spoke German among many languages, and he let a smile creep across his face at the Baron’s consternation. “We had no back-up, nothing in this area at the least. So if a plane is appearing to intercept your squadron and it just appeared out of nowhere, then there can be only one answer, Blitz.”
Blitzkrieg stormed up into the cockpit to see for himself, swearing under his breath, “The Justice Society!”
-----
Doctor Fate stood in the middle of the JSA’s own aircraft, arms spread wide and fingers laced with crackling energies as he guided it from the Gotham Airfield to high above the Mediterranean with his magic. His body shook as he maintained his focus, his team-mates surrounding him and feeling the raw power he had concentrated into the area.
“Gotta say, Fate,” Hourman mused as he glanced out the window, the fading display of eldritch lights fascinating him. “You could revolutionize transportation if you wanted, if you’ve got more spells like that.”
“Focus, Hourman,” Doctor Fate snapped, his voice strained from behind the golden helmet as he slowly lowered his arms, feeling the craft take control of its own flight.
“We have a grave task ahead.”“You okay, Fate?” Green Lantern asked his teammate. Now that he had released his spell, Alan Scott felt more secure in approaching him, and held his arms out though not quite touching the wizard’s shoulders.
“My magic comes from an ancient, a primordial, time, Green Lantern,” Fate explained as he took a deep breath to steady himself.
“It does not mesh well with modern science.”“Look alive, people!” Hawkman barked out as he appeared from the pilot’s cabin. “Fate did well, and plunked us down almost on top of the Nazis, but now we got their fighter planes headed straight at us.” He pulled a heavy cavalry mace from brackets holding it securely to a wall, and then looked at Hourman. “You and I, we’ll handle the escorts. Lantern, Fate, you two get on board the cargo plane and take care of the casket, and see who snatched it. Flash will keep our own plane flying. Any questions?”
“Um, Hawk?” Hourman raised his hand and stared at the JSA chairman. “I don’t fly, remember?”
“I’ve seen you leaping on your Miraclo,” Hawkman replied. “Just jump onto the craft, and leap from one to the other. Jay and I will keep an eye on you. Just watch out for the propellers.”
“Right. Of course.” Rex shrugged and glanced over to Green Lantern and Doctor Fate, then back to Hawkman. He hit a switch on his belt buckle and dropped a small white tablet into the palm of his thick hand, and then popped the tablet into his mouth. “Leap from plane to plane. Don’t know why I didn’t think of that before.”
“Okay, guys,” Flash’s voice came over the cabin radio. “Planes are coming in fast, so let’s get going.”
Green Lantern opened the cabin door and the green sliver of energy on his middle left finger flared to life, emerald energy surrounding him as he hurled into skies, followed quickly by Doctor Fate, who swept his arm in the direction of the approaching fighters, a glowing golden ankh shielding him as the pair streaked toward the cargo plane.
The fighters began to pass by, the sounds of bullets blazing around them as the Flash did his best to weave their craft around the attacks. With a shrieking cry of battle, Hawkman was the next out the door, mace clutched in his hands and he dropped swiftly towards the nearest enemy fighter as Rex “Tick-Tock” Tyler stood at the cabin doorway. He looked around, eyes wide, heart pounding, feeling the Miraclo mix in his blood. He took a deep breath, held it a moment and then leaped far out into empty space, his held breath released as a loud cry of panic and bravado as he watched one Nazi plane pulling away from him.
In the cockpit, Flash hit a switch to close the cabin door behind his teammates, struggling to maneuver the plane, though the occasional thunk of ammunition along the side of their craft was still felt.
“It’s moving too slow,” Jay growled as he began a climb. “Why didn’t we put guns on this thing? Would someone tell me that? Who flies an unarmed plane into a war-zone?” He stopped his climb and let the plane start to free-fall, hoping against hope that Alan was right, and the plane could handle this. “And why am I talking to myself? Damn it, we need…radios. Small radios. Yeah, small radios we can carry around with us.” He jabbed hard at the plane’s controls and spun the craft to the side, feeling the g-forces tug at him as he narrowly ducked another spray of enemy bullets. “Come on, guys, I don’t have many tricks left!”
Out in the dogfight, Hawkman swooped and cried in sheer battle lust, appearing to the side of one Nazi aircraft and bringing down the heavy mace in a powerful hammer blow. The pilot stared up in shock at the flying man suddenly tearing through his cockpit with the ancient weapon. He leaped into the sky, the billowing white parachute indicating his hope to escape the winged warrior, who sent the now empty craft into a tailspin away from the fleeing pilot before soaring back out on his own power.
Meanwhile, Hourman plummeted down, his burly frame slamming hard and gracelessly into the tail section of his target. He felt the powerful winds tugging at him, and he grinned, adrenaline surging through his body, powerful hands curling into the metal craft for support. “Holy…it worked!” Rex laughed, almost maniacally as he tore away the stabilizers so close to him. He glanced around at the same time as he gleefully tore apart the rear of the airplane. He crouched, aimed, and with another loud cry of uncontrolled excitement, hurled himself out into the empty sky again, aiming for yet another aircraft, even as he heard smashing from off in the distance indicating a second downed craft by his winged partner.
“Okay, gotta hand it to the Hawk, this is fun!” Rex said as he felt the cold air slapping his cowled face.
-----
<“Stop them!”> Baron Blitzkrieg screamed in his native German, yelling into the radio as he watched Hawkman and Hourman dismantle his fighter escort with seeming ease. Then he noticed the gold and green glows approaching the aircraft. “Gottfluch es! I will not let them have the Casket!” He marched back into the main cabin, and allowed himself a brief smile. The pale skin of Wonder Woman, and her weakening struggles indicated the blood that had already flowed into the Casket, and he could see the lid starting to unseal. The ibis-headed latched popped suddenly and he clapped exultantly.
“Don’t count your super-weapons before they’re hatched!” Terry Sloane threatened as he stared up at the gold-plated villain.
“It doesn’t matter if your JSA allies arrive, for the Obsidian Casket is opened!” Blitzkrieg said and pulled Wonder Woman from the lid. He levered his cane under the lid and used it to open the Casket as Doctor Fate and Green Lantern passed through the cabin walls and into the craft.
“We’ve no time to waste, Lantern!” Doctor Fate said, and true to his word, ignored the rest of the craft’s occupants to hurl himself into the open Casket.
“Follow me, we have important work to do!”Lantern merely stared at the opened relic. It seemed impossibly deep, and it released waves of cold, and a pair of malevolent eyes glared out from the darkness that yawned within. Worse, those eyes seemed all too human. “Damn!” However, he also paused for no more than that half a moment, his hand pointed at Wonder Woman and green energy shattered the shackles holding her bound, and then he dove in behind the sorcerer.
“I…am…free!”cried out an icy rasping voice as the darkness from inside the casket erupted like a fountain, into the shadowy form of a man, with evil, insane eyes. “At long last, I am free!"
“Not for long, shadowspawn!” Wonder Woman insisted, as she quickly leaped at the creature, her hands clutching his own shadowy limbs, her feet precariously balanced on the edges of that container. “I don’t know who you are, what you are, or what you intend, but I’m sure Fate and Lantern will reseal your prison, and in the meantime, I will not permit you to pass any further into this world!”
“What makes you think I will give you a choice, Wonder Woman?” Baron Blitzkrieg asked with grim glee. He stepped behind her, arms raised up to seize her. “This is exactly what I’ve been seeking, what makes you think you can stop us both, alone?”
“Maybe not quite alone, Herr Baron,” Mister America corrected the Nazi commander. His hands were freed from his gloves, the ropes still wrapped around the red leather gauntlets lying back where Sloane had been kept. “Never alone!” He leaped into the Baron and used his moment of surprise to knock them away from the struggling Wonder Woman.
“Foolish, prideful American,” Baron Blitzkrieg responded, in a voice almost laced with pity. “I can battle Wonder Woman to a standstill. You are nothing compared to her. I will crush you to powder and pulp!”
-----
Eldritch winds howled and roared at Green Lantern and Doctor Fate as they plunged into the darkness. The dark shape with the wicked eyes hurled up past them, as the small pinpoint of light from their reality shone weakly down toward them.
“What is all this, Fate? What are we doing in here?” Alan Scott asked, his green energy glowing bright, working hard against the alien reality, his broad-shoulders trembling with a cold that had little to do with temperature.
“Back in the very dawn of reality, powerful creatures roamed,” Fate explained as he led his companion further down into the dark depths.
“Creatures inimical to the very way we would understand the physical universe. Nothing would be able to grow and prosper in their alien presence, and so came forth Lords of Order and Chaos, sealing these aberrations away, outside time and space.” Fate came to a halt, and held his arm out to signal for Green Lantern to also stop. They stood, floating in shadowy nothing, facing toward where Alan Scott’s eyes could just make out shifting, slithering, crawling. He wasn’t sure if it was just his eyes, inventing movement in the dark, responding to his imagination. His skin began to crawl, and the back of his neck suffered icy chills, and his pulse raced as the movement grew more pronounced, more thunderous and awful.
“When science began to grow in dominance, it met in conflict with religion,” Fate continued to intone, weaving complex sigils in the air before him, of silver and gold and other colors that Alan Scott couldn’t recognize.
“Wrap the largest, most potent verdant wall you can over these glyphs, my friend.” As Alan Scott did so, Fate again picked up his narrative.
“It did not always conflict though. Some sought to find a way to merge them, to draw equal measures to control reality. One such researcher was Iain Karkull. He used this merged formula and faith to find these externals, these ancient beasts.”Now the wall dwarfed the two heroes as the rushing tide of indescribable fury and unheard of shapes smashed into this barrier. Cracks and sparks staggered the two men as the barrier bowed under the weight of utterly incomprehensible things.
“Karkull made himself a pathway, to allow his patrons admittance back into reality,” Fate continued to say, as he held his arms forth and poured further raw energy into his wards, while Green Lantern held his left wrist with his right hand, his clenched fist unleashing more green flame then he’d ever tried to before, despite the wide, horrified eyes.
“But he was sealed by other wizards into the Obsidian Casket. He had already been too corrupted by his patrons. These…these abominations.” He struggled now, both men shook.
“They could not kill him. Merely lock him away. Now we hold the line until our companions can force Karkull back!”Alan Scott wanted to ask what happened if they failed to do that, to hold this line, or if Wonder Woman’s group couldn’t get Karkull back into the Casket. A monstrous eye that dwarfed him blinked from behind the green flaming border, a sigil flaring brightly before cracking and dissipating, and Alan bit off the question. He narrowed his eyes, ignored the dull throb at the base of his head, and more gouts of green flame flew forth.
-----
Wonder Woman was already weakened, her wrists hurt so badly, and her knees wobbled. She was pale, and she felt her heart pounding in response to her wounds, but she gave a smile of grim satisfaction knowing that the bracelets of servitude worn by all Amazons were also helping to slow her blood loss enough. Her mighty back strained, and her arms gripped the icy shadow despite the numbness creeping over her, and she stared up with righteous fury into the malevolent hatred that glared down at her.
“I am Iain Karkull, woman! I will not be denied! My masters will not be denied!” The shadow man declared as he started to merge his dark form into her arms, making Hippolyta cry out from the sharp, frozen pain she now felt.
She mentally chastised herself for showing her weakness, and then shook her head. “Your tricks will not work long on me, Karkull,” Wonder Woman said with certainty as her golden girdle flared to life at the first touch of the shadowy monster. He recoiled in pain, and solidified enough that Wonder Woman’s foot was able to find solid purchase on his chest and kick him back down toward the mouth of the casket. “Gaea’s strength is my own, monster! Your masters might be able to harm her, but you can't!” For all her bravado though, Hippolyta knew that she was fighting a losing battle. His attempts to infiltrate his shadow into her body had done its damage.
Mister America was doing little better, feeling the powerful heat beams from Baron Blitzkrieg’s eyes scour into his shoulder. He staggered back a step, but when the beams ceased, he merely glared in the direction of his foe. “That…it? The best you can do? Your heat beams aren’t…doing very much pulping. Afraid to get your…hands dirty, Ratzi?”
“Come and learn for yourself, verurteilter Mann,” Blitzkrieg promised, trying to match Terry’s gaze, but finding the American unable to stare directly into impending death, obviously.
Terry took the invitation and hurled at Blitzkrieg, but as the villain brought his arms down in an axe-handle blow, it merely struck the floor of the plane, smashing through the bottom. Terry hand actually leaped around him, and threw himself into the wall behind Blitzkrieg, who even now spun to face him. “What game are you playing at? You only delay the inevitable.”
Mister America spun around and smiled back at the baron. “Right back at ya,” he said as he calmly pulled the trigger on the flare gun that had hung on the wall. It smashed into Blitzkrieg’s face-plate, the Nazi commander barely managing to switch to his invulnerable state as he felt the burning of his metal plate, and the brilliant light stabbing into his eyes. He clutched at the radiant plate and tore it off, screaming in pain as the brilliant light filled the craft.
Karkull’s body rippled from the sudden explosion of radiance, and he screamed in agony as Wonder Woman took advantage. She leaped to the floor of the plane and pummeled Karkull’s face repeatedly, greasy ashen remnants breaking off from the body as Karkull found himself without the strength to hold on. He plunged back into the casket.
Deep within, the desperate holding action of Green Lantern and Doctor Fate was lit from high above, and the pair felt the rush of Karkull’s damaged shadow form. “Now?” Alan Scott asked, face drawn, tattered cloak whipping in the eldritch storm.
“Now!” Fate agreed in a commanding voice as the pair raced back up, leaping back into the tattered cargo plane as Hippolyta shut the lid to the Obsidian Casket, and Fate wielded the magic needed to seal the ibis-headed latch again.
“Damn you all to Hell!” Blitzkrieg screamed in agony, his mutilated face hidden behind the glare, and brought his arms down on the floor of the aircraft again, shattering it, and dropping all of the contents into space.
“The casket!” Mister America cried out as he watched the cargo plane veer and start to spin toward the nearby Italian coastline. More planes could be seen streaking in the direction of the JSA as Hippolyta and Terry plunged toward the waters with the smoking, flaring Blitzkrieg.
“I’ve got you both,” Alan said, his green flame leaping out into a large net. He strained to hold them aloft and then he and Fate flew up to the JSA aircraft. “We need to be getting out of here, I think.”
Hawkman and Hourman had already returned to the aircraft and helped the heroes inside. “Are we all set?” Hawkman asked. “Did we do what we came to do?”
“We’re done,” Alan answered with a nod. “Jay, get us out of here.”
“Right,” Flash called back from the pilot’s chair. The plane turned back and started the long trek out of the area and for home. “Sit back and relax. You’ve earned it.”
Hundreds of feet below, two splashes broke the surface of the Mediterranean. A large one, the Obsidian Casket, quickly plunging even further into the depths of the sea, and a smaller one, the cool waters bringing relief to the agonized Baron Blitzkrieg, unable to escape the staggering dark of Mister America’s attack, his mind consumed only by brutal pain and flaming hatred, burning hotter than any magnesium.
