Where There's a Will, There's a Way - part 1
by Viking

Catherine Larchmont-Price glanced at the Freedom Fortress monitors without much interest. It was, comparatively speaking, a quiet day in Patriot City, and thus there really wasn't much to report on or pay attention to. That was only the lesser reason for her inattention, however. In the nearby science lab, Mentor and the Ant were collaborating on a project. Though Catherine, known to the world as the Alche-Miss, would ordinarily ignore the scientific jargon floating in through the open door, their latest work meant a lot more to her personally. Today, the pair was experimenting with a means by which they might communicate with Man-Bot.

It had been several months since Freedom Force had battled the Time Master, and Man-Bot had placed himself in voluntary exile both to ensure Freedom Force's return to safety and to safeguard the Celestial Clock. However, Freedom Force had not heard another word from Man-Bot since his parting communication. Initially distraught at Man-Bot's exile to another dimension, the members of Freedom Force had tirelessly sought a means of bringing Man-Bot back to Earth. Unfortunately, their well-intentioned toil had produced nothing useful.

Still, life in Patriot City marched on. Though they cared deeply for Man-Bot, the members of Freedom Force had their own lives to attend to, and the criminals of the city still needed to be watched. Since coming back from the Celestial Clock, they had crossed paths with foes both old and new, and had learned that still others had been exposed to the strange transformative power of Energy X. Considering the diligence watching over Patriot City required, it was only natural that attempts to rescue Man-Bot had been put on hold.

On hold, but not abandoned. Catherine was glad for the break from the normally hectic routine at the Freedom Fortress. It meant that they had time to revisit their attempts at bringing Man-Bot back to Earth.

Catherine craned her head to get a better look at the progress that Mentor and the Ant were making. Apparently, trying to rescue Man-Bot outright was proving too complex a project to tackle all at once, so the pair had scaled back to a simpler problem: being able to communicate with Man-Bot.

"Your current model perplexes me," stated Mentor, the team's alien mentalist. "It appears to be little more than an earlier device that we attempted to use to access Man-Bot's location, without success."

"Well, you're right - it is the same device," explained the Ant, "but operating on a much smaller scale. When we first tried to use it, we were trying to open a man-sized portal. It collapsed due to instability, and required far too great an energy source to be kept open reliably. This time, we're starting smaller. A lot smaller. We're going to open a portal about as large as a molecule!"

Recognition dawned on the Mentor's face. "That may be all that we need. The Domain's earliest intergalactic communicators simply transported molecules that were encoded with their messages through such portals."

"Sorry to interrupt the science convention," the Alche-Miss interjected, "but could you explain that in English?"

"It's like sending a message in a bottle," explained the Ant. "A very tiny bottle."

"So if you can get this contraption to work, Man-Bot will be able to talk to us?" the Southern sorceress asked.

Though his facial mask obscured all of his features, one could still almost see the Ant's face fall from disappointment.

"Well... not exactly," he explained. "Not yet, at any rate. It's more like we'll be able to talk to him. He'd need to have a similar broadcaster in order to be able to talk to us."

"Nevertheless, we should not let that deter us," intoned Mentor. "The Time Master's sanctuary contained incredibly advanced technology of its own. With the instructions that we should be able to provide, Man-Bot would be able to re-create this device and communicate with us in turn."

The Alche-Miss crossed her arms and rolled her eyes. "That's assumin' that this squawk-box even works!" she exclaimed. "And you won't know if it does, since Man-Bot won't be able to tell us!" Feeling a wave of emotion welling up inside of her, Catherine quickly turned away from the pair and wiped her eyes.

"Our plan may be imperfect, but you must agree that it is still worth the effort," noted Mentor quietly. "As you humans have been known to say, 'Where there is a will, there is a way.'"

"Well-said, friend!" came a commanding voice from a nearby hallway. The voice was unmistakably that of the Minute Man. The Founding Father of Freedom Force gave a reassuring smile to the assembled group. "I've no doubt that you'll not only find a way of communicating with our teammate-in-exile, but also inevitably in returning him to Earth as well!"

Catherine rounded on the group angrily. "Oh, just like y'all were so successful at finding a way for him to be free of that armor?" She held up an outstretched palm to cut off Minute Man's response. "And you can spare me your endless optimism, oh fearless leader. I have no room in my life for false hope." Before anyone else could react, she spun on her heel and marched off.

"Alche-Miss!" called out Minute Man belatedly. He was about to pursue, but paused when he felt Mentor's hand on his shoulder.

"It is pointless to talk to her right now," Mentor observed. "One need not be psychic to see how deeply Man-Bot's interdimensional imprisonment hurt her. Only proof of our progress will restore her spirits, I fear."

Minute Man looked around in silence, for once at a loss for words. He also felt great frustration at the repeated setbacks the team had suffered in its efforts to bring Ted Turner back, which was compounded by the inability to do anything about it. He glanced at the observation room.

"There's no one watching the monitors," he said quietly.

"I wouldn't worry about that," interjected the Ant. "Things have been quiet since those guilty verdicts came in for Pinstripe and the Judge."

A small smile returned to Minute Man's face. That had been a welcome victory indeed, and far more satisfying because it had been won by the citizens of Patriot City. Not only had Patriot City's super-powered crime boss been duly sentenced, but so had one of its newest villains - a former defense attorney driven mad before his encounter with Energy X.

"Why don't you help us with our work?" suggested the Ant. "Mentor says that you're also a talented physicist. I'm sure that your input would be incredibly useful with our latest model!"

Minute Man's smile broadened.

"Maybe for a few minutes," he said. "It will be good to handle a slide rule again! But not too long. We must always remain vigilant." Still, he looked forward to the task. Having nothing to do was one of the worst torments that he could think of.

Across the harbor and south of Patriot City, Pinstripe sat scowling in his prison cell. There was nothing for him to do but brood over his latest defeat. Snarling in frustration, he slammed his fist into a wall of reinforced concrete. Neither his fist nor the wall showed any signs of damage, just like all the other times that he had pounded the walls in frustration. Pinstripe's body could soak up the impact from just about any blow, but without his Tommy gun, it just left him with a lot of useless pent-up energy. It was getting tiresome.

Pinstripe grumbled for a moment before turning to his only other pastime - talking to his neighbor. Of course, this pastime had thus far proven about as satisfying as beating on the prison walls, as Pinstripe had yet to get a satisfactory response out of his neighbor in the weeks they had spent next to one another. Still, one never knew - this time might be different...

Pinstripe decided to go for a tone that was almost amiable. "So, kid, I guess it's funny how things turn out," he said. "I mean, it's just like I said way back when. You ended up in a cell right next to mine, right Danny boy?"

"Indeed, it is as you have reminded me each day," came the solemn voice from the adjacent cell.

Daniel Walker, also known as the Judge, showed no signs of the fear that he had once felt when he was Pinstripe's defense attorney. Still, Pinstripe thought that he heard a trace of irritation in the man's voice. It was something to go on, at least.

"Hey, Danny, no need to get sour over it," Pinstripe responded with a chuckle. "I'm just tryin' to be your friend, here. And it looks like you need one, seein' as how you don't have anyone else to talk to."

Pinstripe spoke the truth. When faced with the initial difficulty of imprisoning super-powered villains, Patriot City responded with drastic measures. With his telepathic powers, the Judge was far too dangerous to be allowed near any guards who might then be mesmerized into freeing him. Indeed, such was the fear over the Judge's ability to wreak havoc in a public setting that he had been tried in absentia, despite the objections of the public defender assigned to the case. Still, the public defender had managed to successfully argue that putting Daniel Walker into solitary confinement indefinitely constituted cruel and inhuman punishment, and a compromise was handed down. Pinstripe was to have the cell neighboring his.

Apart from Pinstripe and the Judge, the cellblock was practically abandoned, and the nearest guard maintained watch from a distance of roughly fifty feet. A mechanical cart had been developed to deliver meals to them. Neither Pinstripe nor the Judge had anyone else to talk to.

Of course, the Judge rarely made for a talkative companion. Far too often for Pinstripe's tastes, Daniel wouldn't respond to his attempts at conversation at all. Day after day, the only sound that Pinstripe would hear from the Judge's cell was the relentless clickety-clack of typewriter keys - another concession made to excuse the stringency of his imprisonment. From the sound of it, Daniel was still working on his own appeal.

Pinstripe gnashed his teeth as he heard the all-too familiar sound of typing begin once more. With a herculean effort, he did his best to keep his temper in check. "You don't think you're actually gonna get outta here through a trial, do ya?" he grumbled. "Face it! The only way you're gonna get out is if you're busted out, same as me, and your best chance of that happening is through me and my boys!"

The sound of typing paused momentarily. "Unlikely," came the simple reply from the Judge's cell, and the typing began once more.

His temper flaring, Pinstripe slammed a fist against the bars of his cell. "Don't you be knockin' my boys!" he shouted. "Outside of that cell, you got nothing! I have a whole organization out there workin' for me! There ain't no prison that they can't crack open - where there's a will, there's a way! And mark my words, ya fancy talkin' yahoo, they'll find it!"

He decided to hold back his trump card, the Alliance he had joined. Hopefully, his new allies would make his boasts more reality than bluster.

Again, the typing stopped. "That phrase, Mr. Rigotta, is about as worn out as your suit."

Sputtering incoherently at the insult, Pinstripe gripped at his bars fiercely. "You're gonna pay for that, you two-bit shyster!" he finally blurted out. "When I get outta here, I'm gonna throttle you to next Thursday, and then I'm gonna shove that stinkin' typewriter..."

Pinstripe cut his diatribe short as he realized that the guard had gotten up from his post and was approaching their cells. He watched in stunned silence as the guard stopped in front of the Judge's cell, unlocked it, and entered. A few minutes later, Daniel Walker emerged from the cell, dressed in the guard's uniform and with a thick brown envelope in hand.

"That... that's impossible!" gasped Pinstripe. "There's no way you could've hypnotized him from that far away!"

Daniel Walker smiled thinly at Pinstripe. "For once, you've made an astute observation, Mr. Rigotta. Of course, that didn't stop this guard from obeying a post-hypnotic suggestion that I gave him before I was incarcerated."

Pinstripe was dumbstruck. "Before?" he thought. "But that means..."

"Yes, Mr. Rigotta," interjected Daniel smoothly. "I had prepared for this contingency long ago. When you're a lawyer, you learn that things don't always happen quickly, but everything must happen at its appropriate time."

Pinstripe thought about asking Daniel to release him, but one look at his expression made him see the futility immediately. In desperation, he turned to one of the security cameras and gestured wildly.

"You'll find that about as successful as asking me to set you free," noted Daniel. "To use a certain phrase of yours, I've... ‘taken care' of things. The guards, the cameras... everything."

Pinstripe shifted uncomfortably, but then mustered up his composure. "So why are you still here, punk? If it's to gloat, you better enjoy it while you can!"

"Gloating? Hardly," responded Daniel in a dry tone. "The time for your sentencing has come, Mr. Rigotta."

Daniel's words silenced Pinstripe, who narrowed his eyes and seethed with rage.

"Your methods are shortsighted and crude, and inevitably doomed to failure," Daniel continued. "Under your leadership, it will only be a matter of time, and I suspect, not much of that, before your organization is dismantled by Freedom Force. It is only appropriate that your organization be protected under... new leadership."

"You lousy punk!" fumed Pinstripe. "You don't know the first thing about my boys! They'll never take orders from a loser like you!"

Daniel remained unperturbed. "Oh, but I do, Mr. Rigotta, and they will. You've already told me everything I need to know."

Pinstripe's jaw dropped. "What the heck kinda nonsense are you spoutin'?" he gasped in a hoarse voice.

"The guards may have been too far away for me to mesmerize on a regular basis, but you were always close by, Mr. Rigotta," Daniel explained, his smile expanding ever so slightly. "Over the past few weeks you've told me about every major figure in your organization, your warehouses, your safe houses, the people you have on the take... everything. Not that you remember, of course. Just like you won't remember a word of this conversation..."

Pinstripe's eyes glazed over from the hypnotic words of the Judge, and he stood like a zombie in the center of his cell. Daniel turned and walked away, his papers in hand. "Where there's a will there's a way, indeed," he muttered scornfully. "As if that buffoon ever had any will worth mentioning."

Mentally reviewing some of the details that Pinstripe had provided to him in the past, the Judge knew that subverting Pinstripe's organization would still take quite a bit of time, even if Freedom Force failed to catch on to his plans. Of course, he had planned a diversion for just that purpose. "It is about time that Freedom Force learned that the sword of law is double-edged," he murmured quietly before disappearing down the halls.

Back in his cell, Pinstripe blinked. He felt something was nagging him in the back of his mind, something that needed doing, but he couldn't quite tell what. It was like an itch you could never reach. He growled, and punched the reinforced concrete walls in frustration.

The next day found the Alche-Miss again watching the Freedom Fortress monitors in apparent indifference. In reality, she was anything but uncaring, and her nervously fidgeting fingers were the only sign that betrayed her mask of composure. Following up on their theoretical breakthrough from the previous day, Mentor and the Ant had already assembled a working prototype. The Ant, with his typical enthusiasm for solving scientific problems, had toiled through the night and had not yet begun to show signs of exhaustion.

Alche-Miss listened intently, though she cared little about what was being said. Mentor and the Ant were reciting a list of steps involved in the construction of the device, which could only mean that they were using the machine to send a message to Man-Bot.

Such was the theory, at least. Alche-Miss still didn't want to place her full trust in a plan that might be another failure, but even she felt a nervous flicker of hope that they had finally made a breakthrough. "Bug-Boy figured out a way to get us back home from that prehistoric nightmare," she reasoned, remembering the time that the Freedom Fortress had been transported back to the Mesozoic Era. "Gotta give him credit for that."

Realizing that the pair had stopped their one-way conversation, Alche-Miss silently got up from the Freedom Force computer and crept to the science lab to peek inside. Their transmission finished, Mentor and the Ant were now turning a series of switches and dials on the communicator. Alche-Miss watched intently, committing the process to memory.

"So... it would seem that all that is left to do is wait," observed Mentor.

"Right," answered the Ant as he permitted himself a yawn. "We might as well leave the machine set to record transmissions indefinitely, as we don't know how long it would take Man-Bot to construct his own working communicator. And if we don't hear from him, well... I guess we'll just revisit the specifications and try again."

"You should get some rest," advised the Mentor. "While your dedication is admirable, it is unwise to continue for so long without sleep."

"You've never had to cram for a midterm, have you?" The Ant felt no small amount of irony in making this statement. Ordinarily, he would never dream of pulling an all-nighter, but instead would get a good night of sleep before each day of classes. However, getting hit by Energy X had insured that life would not be "ordinary" ever again, and helping to keep Patriot City safe left less time for studies than he liked to admit. He rolled back one of the sleeves of his costume to check his watch.

"Holy smokes! I'm going to be late for class!" he exclaimed.

Alche-Miss winced at the statement. She was cutting classes just to observe their progress.

"Well, if you are going to insist on attending classes, then I will see you to the University," Mentor remarked. "Lack of sleep dulls one's reflexes and senses. I would hate for you to be hit by a Patriot City motorist because you inadvertently forgot to watch for an incoming car."

The Ant was about to make some comment about how his insectoid endurance reduced his need for sleep, but found himself stifling another yawn, instead. Realizing that the night's efforts had left him a little more exhausted than he had expected, he simply nodded acquiescence.

Catherine watched the pair depart from the science lab, and then waited a few moments more to make sure that she was alone. Quelling her fears that they might return at any moment, she hastily adjusted the switches and dials in the reverse order that the Ant had done. Before long, a bright green light lit up next to a label marked "TRANSMITTING," and she heaved a sigh of relief.

"I don't know about you," she murmured softly, "but if the first friendly words that I heard in isolation were a bunch of mumbo-jumbo instructions on how to build some contraption, I'd be bangin' my head on the closest object I could find!"

Catherine laughed, despite herself, and suddenly broke into a long narrative about what had happened to Freedom Force since they last saw Man-Bot. The recount was rushed and disjointed, but heartfelt. Only when her voice had begun to go hoarse did she realize how long she had talked.

"Peaches n' cream, but I've rambled!" she exclaimed. "Sorry to talk your ear off, Man-Bot, but I just wanted you to know that I hadn't forgotten you. None of us has. Just like none of us has given up on you. So don't you ever forget that."

Alche-Miss felt tears well up in her eyes for the second time in as many days. Lost in silent contemplation, she became aware of the sound of a purposeful stride from down the hallway. By the brisk and energetic rhythm of the echo, it was almost certainly Minute Man returning from patrol.

Hastily wiping away her tears, she whispered some parting words into the communications device. "Here's hopin' that you understood what those two said, and can talk to us real soon," she said quickly, and then hastily adjusted the controls so that the communicator was set to receive transmissions once more.

Alche-Miss quickly turned to face the blue-coated hero. "You're back later than I expected," she drawled nonchalantly.

Minute Man gave a small smile. "I had to stop a mugging on the way back," he answered. This much was true. What he didn't say was that he had returned as Alche-Miss had been passionately delivering her message to Man-Bot, and had discreetly left her in privacy. He had waited a judicious amount of time before loudly marching back to the science lab.

Giving a meaningful glance at the empty monitoring room, he asked, "I suppose that it was routine enough that it didn't even show up on the monitors?"

"Oh, come on, Minute Man," Alche-Miss huffed. "Nothing important has happened in Patriot City for days!"

By way of contradiction, the Freedom Fortress computer issued a series of very audible beeps. Alche-Miss winced, and then sighed.

"What on earth could that be?" she asked. "It doesn't sound like our normal alarm..."

Minute Man had already hastened to the monitors and was scanning the screens for the source of disturbance. When he found it, his eyes widened in disbelief.

"It seems we have a visitor..." he mumbled.

Alche-Miss was about to ask whether this meant that the Freedom Fortress had been invaded, but she followed Minute Man's gaze to a screen that displayed the front of the Freedom Fortress. Standing before its impressive white doors was a lone man dressed in a conservative black suit and carrying a briefcase. He looked at his watch impatiently, and then reached out and pressed a button next to the doors. The computer repeated the same high-pitched alarm, causing Alche-Miss to wince again.

"We've gotta change that doorbell," she muttered.

A few moments later, Minute Man and Alche-Miss had arrived at the main entrance to the Freedom Fortress and were opening its secured doors.

The visitor nodded to them both, and then turned his business-like attention to Minute Man.

"Minute Man? May I presume that you are a duly appointed representative of the organization known as Freedom Force?" he asked in a bland voice.

"Yes, of course!" responded Minute Man's earnestly. "At your service."

The well-dressed gentleman nodded, then reached into his briefcase. He withdrew a sealed envelope, which he passed to the Founding Father of Freedom Force.

"Indeed," he remarked mildly. "You have just been served."

"What?" burst out Alche-Miss in a stunned voice. "What the heck are you talkin' about?"

"It is a summons, Miss... erm... Alche-Miss," responded the stranger. "You - all of Freedom Force, actually - have just been sued."

To be continued...