The interior of the base was a labyrinth of corridors and reinforced chambers. The squad fought their way through, leaving a trail of destruction in their wake. The guards were relentless, their weapons and magic pushing the team to their limits.
Killer Croc smashed through a barricade, his claws raking through flesh as he tore into another squad of defenders. Deadshot provided cover, his bullets finding targets with unerring accuracy. Boomerang's blades flashed through the air, taking out mages before they could complete their incantations.
Harley, bloodied but unbowed, kicked open a heavy steel door. "Knock, knock! Anybody home?"
Inside, Dr. Marcus Albright cowered behind a shimmering magical barrier. He was a frail, bespectacled man, his face pale with fear. Behind him stood a towering sorcerer, his hands glowing with arcane power.
"You will not take him," the sorcerer snarled. He raised his hands, and tendrils of dark energy shot out, slamming into the squad. Harley was thrown against a wall, her body crumpling to the floor. Deadshot rolled to the side, narrowly avoiding a blast that left a smoking crater where he had stood.
Killer Croc roared, charging at the barrier. The magical field cracked under his assault but held firm. Boomerang hurled one of his weapons, aiming for the sorcerer's head, but the blade veered off course, deflected by the barrier.
"This guy's a real piece of work," Boomerang muttered, ducking behind cover as another spell exploded near him.
Copperhead's absence was felt keenly as the squad struggled against the sorcerer's relentless attacks. But they were nothing if not resourceful.
"Distract him," Deadshot ordered, taking aim. "I'll handle the doc."
Killer Croc slammed his fists into the barrier again, the force of his blows finally shattering it. He lunged at the sorcerer, grappling him and pinning him to the ground. The mage screamed, his hands flaring with energy, but Croc's raw strength was too much. He twisted the man's head with a sickening crack, silencing him for good.
Deadshot darted forward, firing a tranquilizer dart into Dr. Albright's neck. The scientist's protests turned into slurred murmurs as he collapsed.
"Target secured," Deadshot said. "Let's move."
The retreat was hellish. The base's remaining defenders threw everything they had at the squad. Spells lit up the corridors, bullets ricocheted off walls, and the air was thick with smoke and blood.
Killer Croc carried Dr. Albright over his shoulder, his body a shield against the onslaught. Harley limped beside him, clutching her bat tightly. Boomerang and Deadshot brought up the rear, covering their escape with a barrage of projectiles and gunfire.
By the time they reached the extraction point, they were barely standing. The jet's ramp lowered, and the squad staggered aboard. The door closed, and the aircraft lifted off, leaving behind the chaos and carnage.
Harley collapsed onto a seat, her chest heaving. Her once-vibrant costume was torn and soaked with blood—some of it her own, most of it not. She stared at the floor, her eyes glassy.
"Copperhead…" she murmured, her voice barely audible.
Deadshot sat across from her, his expression grim. "He knew the risks. We all do."
Boomerang leaned against the wall, clutching a bleeding wound in his side. "Still doesn't make it easier."
Killer Croc growled low, his eyes fixed on Dr. Albright. "This better be worth it."
The scientist stirred, his eyes fluttering open. He looked around, his face pale with terror. "Wh-where am I? What do you want?"
Harley's laugh was hollow as she leaned closer. "Sweetheart, you're about to find out."
As the jet soared into the night, the squad sat in silence, the weight of their mission pressing down on them. They had succeeded, but the cost was high. As they looked at the terrified man they had risked everything to capture, they couldn't help but wonder if it had been worth it.
In the future, they would regret not facing death sooner rather than later.