Chapter Text
Penelope and Shaggy were chowing down on peach tarts fresh from out of the oven as they related the events at the old ranch, interrupted occasionally by Scooby-Doo adding in a ‘reah, reah’ as though he felt the need to emphasize something particularly important. The immediate impact upon their audience was that of stunned confusion that one experiences when they go into a room and forget why they entered.
“So, let me see if I got this right. After a fight with Johnny’s cousin, you spent the afternoon with an immortal, talking horse who once belonged to Johnny’s Great-Great-Grandfather, who told you a story about a race, a hidden city somewhere in Missouri, magic bones, and mysterious technology.” Velma summarized.
“I went there hoping to get some intel about the route, the dangers of the trail - but turns out Quickdraw doesn’t remember much about that. I was hoping to get some good insider information that would help me out in the race. No offense to y’all, but I’m not interested in the mystery part of all this - I’m in it for the race.” Said Penelope.
“No offense taken.” Said Fred. Rising from his chair, he paced across the kitchen floor to give space for his thoughts.
“Honestly, this isn’t like our usual sort of gig anyways right? We already know who’s the bad guy already. No mask to pull off or anything.” Said Shaggy.
“I wouldn’t say that exactly.” Said Daphne, looking over to Fred.
“That’s right. When we were at the race track we fought Johnny’s Great-Uncle Joshua, but he pulled off a face mask that showed he was really some young person.” Said Fred.
“Wait, he pulled off a face mask? I feel cheated now.” Said Velma.
“He tried to kill us and you feel cheated you didn’t get to take his mask off?” Asked Fred.
“You’re still alive Fred, that means he wasn’t able to do any permanent damage to your body. But if he’s robbed me of the chance of exposing his identity, then that’s severely damaging to my eg- I mean, our reputation.” Said Velma, who shrank in her chair upon realizing she had said more than she had meant to.
“Point is - they’re probably working towards getting back to that hidden city. Perhaps they plan on using the manpower of the Wacky Racers as a scouting team to scout out a specific area.” Said Daphne.
“What about all that stuff Velma and I ran across with those supervillains and that science mojo? You said something about my great-gran-pappy or whatever taking some doo-hickeys out of that hidden city - maybe those were some of the things they were bringing in with that smuggling operation?” Asked Johnny.
“We’re still not clear on the nature of the technology at work. All we have is a little gear to work with, but it’s some sort of advanced, ancient metallurgy to a device we don’t know the purpose, scale, operation, or even location of.” Said Velma.
“Location isn’t the problem.” Said Amanda Waller, standing quietly in the doorway. Walking into the kitchen, she helped herself to the tea kettle and carefully prepared a cup for herself. Fred backed away at her approach, but Bunny stood firm in her own kitchen against the powerful and shady woman who had entered her home without permission for a second time now.
“You have something to share with us?” Asked Daphne.
Leaning back against the counter, Waller took dainty sips in-between long nasal inhalations of the aroma of her cup. When she finished, she set it down on the counter as a power play to let them know that she gave out information on her own terms, in her own time.
“Red Dust Imports officially shut down operations this morning. Their employees, assets, and holdings have been folded into at least six other related companies - a usual strategy for Chinese shell corporations trying to evade investigations - but there’s one thing left on the books. There’s an old pier north of LA, used to be real upscale back in the days of the Gettys - was basically their private beach once upon a time. Fell into disrepair as the nightlife moved downtown, eventually acquired by Red Dust with the thought of refurbishing it into some sort of new, retro Chinatown-styled port. Lots of money was spent on the project, but after ten years it looks much the same from the outside.”
“Underground excavation?” Asked Velma.
“Most likely. Investigating it was never a top priority for any ‘lettered agency’ so we let it be. Red Dust never moved narcotics, didn’t engage in industrial espionage - it was never deemed important enough to look into. It shipped pineapples from Hawaii to China and random mechanical parts from China to the US. They only popped up on my radar the same time as you kids when I found out they hired a few C-List villains through Joyce Bravo. But again, the company is gone now so records about ‘payments to retainers’ only barely got on the books before they disappeared. If any agency wanted to do a proper investigation, it’d take months to get all the documents from the shell companies - and we don’t have months.”
Pulling a folder from inside her jacket, she lay it on the table in a free spot between sticky buns and a half-finished plate of nachos.
“You’ve been rather generous with us. What’s really going on?” Asked Velma.
“I work my own angles kid, and the less you know about what I do the better. But, in your case... let’s just say I’m doing a favor for Luthor. You shook him off last week, but he still sees you as a ‘prospective employee’ and doesn’t want you to get hurt before you become profitable to him.” Said Waller.
“Truth be told, after the company tour and personal meeting with him, I kind of want to write another paper about what a scumbag he is.” Said Velma.
“I’d be careful about that. Luther has a bad habit of becoming infatuated with his critics, just ask Lois Lane. She wrote a series of articles criticizing Luthor, which caught his attention, eventually leading to their ‘brief’ engagement.” Said Waller.
Shuddering at the thought, Velma stabbed a cinnamon roll in reaction... but seeing the scared and concerned looks on everyone’s faces, she regained her composure and lifted the roll to her plate to eat it.
Flipping through the folder, Daphne read aloud the papers inside.
“Inventory sheets, specialized solar panels, power generators, telecommunication equipment, satellite communication and operation stations, steel railing and stairs, concrete and rebar... permits for underground mining for construction and structural support... work vouchers for former metahuman criminals... This seems a little outside of our scope of work.” Said Daphne.
“We helped Batman take down Scarecrow and the Joker.” Said Fred.
“Like, I remember Batman doing most of the work.” Said Shaggy.
“Reah, rand Robin roo.” Said Scooby-Doo.
“Maybe this is a bit much to ask for from a group of... freelancers, like you.” Said Waller, her pause to find the right word calculated to avoid giving offense.
“It’s not the danger they mind.” Said Johnny, standing up to square off against Waller.
“Oh, and what is the holdup then?” Asked Waller.
“Look lady, I don’t know you from a strawberry-rhubarb pie, but you throw your weight around gets my friends here all sorts of anxious and you walk through mama’s house like you own it - doesn’t set right with me for starters. What’s really got my jimmies in a rustle is that you act as though they’re pawns you control - and that don’t fly. See, they know that whatever mess you force them into will cause them to do all the work, only to have you sweep in just as everything’s finished and leave them with nothing in the end - and I ain’t talking money or fame or prestige, I mean resolution. You’re the type of babe that pulls the rug of satisfaction right out from under someone after they’ve done a good deed. That’s the problem near as I can see it.”
The self-righteous smug on Waller’s face disappeared into a twisted contortion of confused spite over Johnny’s rant.
“Did you just call me ‘babe’?” Asked Waller.
Shaggy’s stand split into a dozen copies of itself and ran to every corner of the house to hide behind a different piece of furniture, but reading the room, he stayed in his seat and decided to back up Johnny. Waller was not someone who could be threatened, swayed, taunted, or mocked... but she could still be broken.
“Honestly, you should take it as a compliment. Johnny runs a gym, he’s clearly impressed at your physique.” Said Shaggy.
“I mean, I have lost nearly sixty pounds over the past ye... no, you’re not going to get me distracted that easily.” Said Waller.
“I don’t think Johnny was being disingenuous. He’s very free with compliments and praise you know.” Said Velma.
“Are we overthinking this? I think Johnny just said it in his usual manner of referring to women.” Said Fred, not picking up on the group’s train of thought.
”Alright, fine - I won’t cut you out of the cleanup process. Between your work at Star Labs and LexCorp you have enough chops to be allowed as field consultants anyways, but your firsthand experience in these matters might prove valuable. Not that my say matters all that much - for as big and intimidating as you might think I am, you don’t know the people I report to would rather stick you all in a box and throw you in a warehouse with anything else considered ‘remotely dangerous’.”
“Is there any proof to those old conspiracy theories about the massive hangers filled with artifacts?” Asked Fred.
“No, most of those were shut down in the 1950s and their contents moved into individually appropriate containment rooms in refurbished salt mines scattered through northeast Nevada.” Said Waller in such an obvious sarcastic deadpan that the only person to not get it was Johnny.
“I’m sure you have important work to get back to,” said Daphne, “so we should let you get going while we tackle this. I’m sure you’ll be back in your own time to check up on us.”
Standing up with a forced smile on her face, Daphne walked over to Waller and gently placed her hand on her shoulder, quickly joined by Fred and Shaggy as their combined efforts were able to nudge Waller inch by inch out of the kitchen, dining room, entrance hall, and finally out the door.
“Like, don’t be a stranger now.” Said Shaggy, closing the door behind him, he dropped with a slump and thousand-mile stare.
“If I can say one thing about Amanda Waller, it’s that dealing with her makes one wish for the relative comforts of confronting smaller-scale villains.” Said Velma.
Finishing up in the dining room, everyone made their way to the living room and the pastel comforts afforded by the couch and chairs of middle-class suburbia. While Velma went over the photographs from the new folder with her magnifying glass, Fred took the pulse of the room and said the question that seemed to be on everyone’s mind.
“So, now that we all have superpowers, are we going to keep each other in the dark or coordinate how to use them together? Because most superhero teams work best when they play off each other’s strengths and weaknesses - but the downside is any potential leak of information can wind up harming everyone.”
Daphne was fighting fatigue as she started to sink into an old, padded laziboy chair, but had enough wherewithal to say, “Keeping secrets from each other really isn’t the way we play things. Win or lose, we’re a team.”
“Reah, reah, ruh ream” Said Scooby-Doo.
“Then get up out of those chairs,” said Fred, “because this day isn’t done yet and we’ve got a way to go if we’re going to make it to that Pier to see what’s going on.”
“Wait, you mean you want us to go there tonight?” Asked Shaggy.
“We hit their operations in three places today already. They might think we overextended. It’s the last thing they’ll expect.” Said Fred.
Standing up as easily as one might flip a switch, Daphne sprang to her feet before going in to see Mama Bravo. “How’s the Mystery Machine looking?”
“It was barely any trouble knocking the alignment back into place dear. While I don’t think she’d pass a 12-point inspection, she’ll stay true on the road tonight.” Said Bunny.
“Okay then, everyone into the Mystery Machine, we’ll talk on the way. The moon is high and we’ve got a scary, old, abandoned pier to get to.” Said Fred, racing outside to start up the van.
“Jinkies! Now this is starting to feel more on brand for us.” Said Velma, following the rest of the gang out.
“Oh, that’s right! I kept meaning to ask. What brand is Jinkies anyways? I’ve been looking for it in the cereal aisle for years now but could never find it.” Said Johnny, as he ran out the door after the others.