"The Justice League took the bait," Constantine explained as the portal shut behind him, and he approached us. "They're going after her with full force. They're hitting Belle Reve first and then the cloning facility in Germany."
"Belle Reve?" Shelim asked.
Constantine stared at his sandy boots with a flash of irritation, then looked up at us. We had all gathered close.
George was no longer spoiling for a fight and had folded his arms, and Gina was tending to the sorcerer her brother had so callously discarded, sitting him up.
The sight was stranger than the technique-carved coliseums, plinths, and tunnels that populated this island. It was stranger than our new alliance, at least to me. Even after learning of the lengths George and Gina had gone through to rid themselves of Artisan, I still struggled to see them as anything more than predators.
Beneath all of the newfound diplomacy and short-lived friendships, all of the sorcerers were—predators—even Shelim.
"Ah, I didn't tell you, now did I?" Constantine said, answering Shelim. "You're going to love this. It turns out that Artisan has been playing the Justice League for months. She fed them every meta and sorcerer they've captured since the New York incidents and practically knows everything they do."
"That's why they've not found and stopped her?" I realized. "Still, Batman and the other members of the Justice League should have put this together long before now."
"They might've, if she hadn't fed her agents contradictory truths and lies," Constantine explained. "Just enough of the leads they gave panned out, so the League didn't look too deeply. They had no reason to. After all, the captured sorcerers stayed unshackled."
"So what's the angle, then?" Shelim asked. "Don't tell me she cloned the Warden or something?"
A faint smile brushed Constantine's lips. "Think higher."
"A senator?" I asked.
"Higher."
"The governor?" Shelim supplied.
"The President of the United States," Gina finally said.
Shelim let out a sharp exhale, then broke out into a laugh. "Of course she fucking did."
"Jesus Christ," I sputtered. Just when I thought I'd seen it all, she pulled something like this. Of course, it did make a perverse amount of sense. Why settle for media heads and pop stars when you could have a puppet president of the most powerful country in the history of the world?
"Oh God," I said, a flash of panic creeping in. "That explains the sudden anti-Justice League sentiment from the current administration."
The Justice League had been in tighter spots than the New York incident, and one report from the world's most unreliable journalist was hardly enough to sway the president of the United States.
Why didn't I see it earlier?
"I'm surprised she hasn't done more with that kind of power," Shelim said.
"Oh, she has," Constantine said. "She's using Belle Reve to gather meta-DNA samples for more clones, and is strengthening already existing inmates and fitting them with explosive brain implants to create her own secret army. On top of all that, Gina thinks there's a high probability that she has doubles in the governments of every major superpower."
My heart rate spiked. Shelim and I exchanged looks. We'd discussed the possibility at length with Alex and hadn't come up with a convincing countermeasure, except for bringing in the Justice League once we were sure it was happening.
Alex, of course, pointed out that it might be too late by then.
Artisan would have won utterly. There would be nowhere on Earth we could flee that she couldn't track or find us, and we would be up against the combined armies and intelligence agencies of dozens of First World countries. It would be a miracle if Alex and Shelim survived a week.
I had a little more flexibility than that, but I figured they would find me not long after.
"Are you sure?" I asked her, my voice naked with panic.
"It's likely underway, if it's not already done," Gina said.
My first instinct was anger—aggression. I wanted to accuse her of growing too comfortable in her gilded cage, but I knew I probably wouldn't have managed any better if I were in her shoes.
Artisan must have kept her operations compartmentalized. It was a small miracle we had this much intel at all.
"Please tell me you have a target packet or something," I asked.
"You think it's that easy?" George scoffed. "The Martians dug into our minds and harvested years upon years of information. It's the only way they'd trust us. In theory, they should have a list of every player we heard about in passing, recruited, or even suspected. It should be most of Artisan's old network."
"And the rest?"
"They should find them in Germany," Gina supplied. "It's also where Artisan keeps her doubles."
"And what about Appalachia, or the very high likelihood that Artisan is using you to lay a trap?" I pressed. "She has to know that Constantine freed you."
Gina looked slightly offended by the remark, but I didn't care if her feelings were hurt or her intelligence. It had to be asked.
Constantine answered before Gina or her brother could speak.
"That she does, but I only cut the cord an hour ago. Everything the Martians got, they took while she was asleep."
I looked at Constantine and Gina, a little impressed. "Still doesn't mean she's not expecting something like this."
"Oh, absolutely," she said, "but is she worried enough to shift all her bases of operations only a week after her favorite agent goes missing?"
So he's banking on her pride. "It would be a mistake to underestimate her."
"Agreed," Constantine said, the mirth rapidly fading from his face. "And that's why we're taking no chances. I will be coming with you to Harlan. We're there to decimate her research labs, exorcise her cursed spirits, and kill her sorcerers and metas. We cannot allow her little experiment to succeed. Because if it does—"
"She'll take her purge global," George cut him off. "We get it."
"I don't think you do," Constantine turned severe. "Luthor and the rest of her partners are dead. There's nobody left to oppose her except the Justice League. This might be our last chance to stop her."
No one spoke for a beat, the weight of an uncertain future bearing down. Even with all five of us, I wasn't sure we could take her out.
"Don't let the fear of certain death wear you out," Constantine said, flicking his cigarette into the sand. "I've got a plan that'll work. Probably."