Chapter Text
"Prologue: Japanese Miracle"
Neo-Gotham, United States of America, 2040
In her final years at the Central Intelligence Agency, Amanda Waller never stopped being an American patriot.
She bounced around not just within the American intelligence community, but the State and Defense departments, and even the White House. When she finished with her 'particular' extraterrestrial affairs within the science and technology deep state, she found herself aging out as the National Security Advisor and then tenure as Deputy Director of the CIA.
But the America of the 2030s was not the 'last superpower' claimed at the end of the Cold War. No, new foes emerged dressed in the faces of old allies and even older enemies. No matter the era, the national security of the United States of America had to be insured.
The Japanese economic power that emerged out of World War Three and Four proved a particular thorn in the side of American foreign interests. Even though trapped between forces of Europe, China, Russia, and the United States, the culturally traditional nation remained capable of carving out its own destiny. Not even the lingering influences of post-World War Two occupation by the United States would slow it down.
Armed like so many other nations in contemporary times with nuclear weapons, its risk to American foreign policy was paramount. And it had another thing, the 'Japanese Miracle'.
The only nation to successfully develop and deploy a radiation scrubber micromachine technology made Japan the envy of the world. If deployed in advance of nuclear fallout, everything but the explosive blast could be neutralized.
Even if wilder theories of a Japanese sweep of the Asian continent with nuclear weapons to pave way for a purported new Japanese 'promised land' was just lunatic talk around the office and the water cooler, there were items of concern regarding the technological monopoly.
It tipped the scales of nuclear weapon MAD theory in favor of the Japanese and whatever nations they chose to ally with. And micromachines were a precarious technology, just as capable of being a beneficial boon to humanity as turned into a weaponized nanophage among other nightmare scenarios. If the United States was to ensure its own relevancy, it should either obtain the technology for themselves or develop countermeasures before the monopoly honeymoon phase passed.
But the question remained, how to proceed?
The Deputy Director in her final years of service turned to connections forged as a career bureaucrat in Washington. The military-industrial complex contained many colorful individuals of all walks of life, even those who tried their utmost to scrub their public persona of ties to the defense industry.
The question was who looked bloodthirsty and cutthroat enough to dabble in illicit activities for the good of the nation and their own wallets?
In the decades past she could have turned to someone like Lex Luthor, ever the egotist and American Machiavelli: the bald founder and mad scientist extraordinaire of LexCorp. However, after spending decades as the American economic hammer and a life in politics, he retreated from the public stage for more ordinary pursuits. And after witnessing some of his own machinations hidden in his alliances with Waller over the years, she wasn't excited to call on Luthor's abilities again.
Who was a significantly less liability? Someone of newer money, or lesser ambition.
Powers. Wayne. The Wayne-Powers corporation. That was a familiar name if there ever was one.
The old caped crusader no longer laid claim to his father's hard-earned company, now in the hands of the Powers corporate dynasty. Derek Powers was the current corporate executive officer and was everything the other namesake was not.
Shrewd businessman, always looking for another way to get ahead or to raise his personal profits along with those of his shareholders. He wasn't some spoiled brat either, he knew his way around the defense industry and ties to the criminal underworld. Ties the American government conveniently ignored if Powers' abilities and connections played to the ultimate benefit of the home country. And at least he could be controlled, unlike the retired Lex.
From their brief run-ins, Waller would describe him bluntly as "a high-class sociopath." The man didn't have a single humble bone in his body. But at least he represented American soft power in a decade when that was in short supply, and he still paid his taxes in full – ironically enough.
Waller was fine with his character if he didn't go around as his alter ego zapping the President or her feeler agents in the conglomerate. She had the contingencies to put him in his place if he ever became a problem.
The ensuing wireless call by Waller reached Derek Power's office at Wayne-Powers' Neo-Gotham central headquarters just two minutes before six-thirty sunset.
"Wayne-Powers, you've been transferred to the holding desk of Derek Powers."
Waller didn't play patient, knowing the communique was encrypted at both ends and secure by up-to-date American cybersecurity bots. She greeted the automated secretary voice with her trademark monotone tune, the voice of someone on strict business and yet not quite so.
"Operator, inform Mr. Powers that Langley would like a word while he's free in his radiation bath. If he doesn't pick up in three seconds, I'll make sure the Gotham Gazette and the Daily Planet receive word on his arming Chinese fishing caravans with surface-to-air missiles and integrated warning systems in Vietnamese waters—"
"Who the hell is this?" The growly voice of Derek Powers, rich with inhuman static, cut into Waller's cold monologue.
"Your biggest customer. Uncle Sam sends his regards," Waller smirked.
Silence carried over the line, only brief blips of static filling the space.
Derek Powers spoke once more, "What do you want?"
"The Agency would like a trade, one of your men for a DARPA defense contract and decades of goodwill to come. If you deliver."
"Waller…"
"Took you long enough to recognize the voice. Guess the little tip-off there wasn't enough for your radiated brain to put two and two together."
"Did you just call to goad me or is there a purpose behind this intrusion?"
Back to business then. She took pleasure in reminding the radiated skeleton of his place even when there was no intended bite behind the snarky bark.
The humor in Waller's voice retreated. "I want the Japanese Miracle; I know you have scientists with dual citizenship with the capability to obtain it in your employ. Collaborate and a homegrown defense contract will be all but Wayne-Powers to take."
White noise continued to crackle over the line as Powers stooped in thought. Waller waited patiently, knowing the answer before the business tycoon would reply.
His response however turned into a detour. "What kind of joke is this? What kind of nonsense are you spouting on my account – I deny this nonsense you pedal about boats in Vietnamese—"
"Or about your condition? We know more than you could ever imagine Mr. Powers. I choose to be cordial and not actually put your reputation on the line. If you can't handle a reality check from the government – I can always talk with someone with some proper maturity."
The line went dead again but a scratchy noise, like gritted teeth, echoed just over the wireless static.
"Fine. If you think you can set a plan in motion, my company will cooperate. But I want a guarantee in writing for that contract – and no more of this blackmail crap. I deal with enough problems just stepping outside my door every morning."
"Thank you for being so candid Mr. Powers, you will find this arrangement beneficial for both parties."
"I'm certain of that, but what's your plan? My company has invested years into trying to develop a similar technology – even LexCorp failed in that regard. We're years behind a working prototype so this is more a pipedream than reality if you expect me to do this without—"
"Cletis Tachibana, he's a senior micromachines software developer in your Applied Sciences division. Dual citizenship in Japan and here, has immediate family in Japan and frequently travels between your New Port City and Gotham offices. Japanese nationalism isn't what it might appear to be on paper so we get likes like him."
"Don't know the name."
"Figures. Well, he's worked for you for the last fifteen years – nothing impressive at face value. However, he graduated from a prestigious college and worked on firmware packages for the Micromachine Industry Regulatory Bureau for six years where he performed admirably. Didn't include that in his resume. He joined your company because the pay was better and defense contracts are far more stable than micromachine patents. His knowledge of micromachine state secrets is locked away under encryption in his internal memory but in theory, he should be able to get access for us if he goes back to Japan on our behalf."
"Interesting, and how do you propose that we get him to do as we want? I don't suppose company loyalty matters much to this Tachibana."
"Don't worry too much on that front. All I need is your company's full cooperation when the raiders come over the hill."
"Raiders, Waller?"
"Excuse my analogies, I've spent one too many years around West Point graduates and Harvard stuffed-shirts at this point. Just collaborate with the authorities when he gets in trouble."
"What are you planning?"
"He's a notorious gambler and a thug. Built up quite a few debts on this side of the Pacific and ended up indebted to the mob. He's distributing tech weapons on the black market for a premium just to keep even."
"Then I suppose you'll leak his activities and put out an arrest warrant?"
"And then some."
"Do I want to know what that entails?" Powers grumbled in uncertain curiosity.
"I've given you more than enough to make us both rot in prison for a good decade if this reached public light; keep it to yourself and ask no more. Regardless, I will fill you in on the details when things get into motion. For now, I encourage you to expedite your joining to the national industries alliance the new administration is pushing. And please keep it to official channels. It'll make all of this sell better when we proceed."
"Very well Deputy Director, we can manage that. I just want to make certain I'm not making a mistake dealing with the devil."
Oh, so Powers did have a little snark in him after all. Charmed.
"Someone has to be for the good of the nation, Mr. Powers. Money is cheap, freedom is not."
"Of course, madam Deputy Director. I wish you a good day. One last thing, how long before your plans start?"
"They're already in motion."