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I knew that we were waiting, that moving now could be a bad thing that would warn the bad guys.

But I couldn't just sit there while this was happening. I couldn't.

“Jason Phelps.” I quietly announced myself once I'd appeared in his very secure redoubt in the Rocky Mountains. He was a survivalist, and a very rich one. That he also had questionable dealings in arms, drugs, and other things even less palatable, didn't matter to me.

This man was going to die.

By my hand, though that wasn't so unusual. The reason for it was.

“Who the Hell are you?” The man, middle aged and very fit with a head full of thick if greying hair demanded once I'd spoken to him. Oh, I had appeared in his sanctum as Deena, not Diana. So he was seeing a beautiful, sexy little piece of fluff.

At least in his perceptions.

“Oh, you could call me Deena or Diana.” I shrugged then almost pinned him with my admittedly supernatural regard as I shifted into my Spectre form. “Or maybe retribution. The choice is yours.”

“I haven't actively harmed anyone.” He answered with commendable calm given that I was in full Fury form at the time.

“Your actions, your business, have harmed a lot of people, Jason.” I countered.

“I sell things people want.” He shot back. “It isn't my fault if my products hurt people.”

“No.” I nodded. “It isn't, but you give others the means to harm innocents even if you mask that with the expression 'It's just business', don't you?”

“It is.” He answered. “And I should tell you that my security team is on the way right now.”

“Then they'll die, too.” I shrugged. “But with all the wasted, and prematurely ended lives your business has caused, I don't imagine that would bother you all that much.”

“What have I done to attract your attention, Spectre?” He questioned. “I haven't actively harmed the kind of people you seem to protect.”

“You had the high bid on Samira.” I told him. “And I won't let you have her.”

“What the Hell do you care about that?” He asked while very carefully reaching into his desk.

“I'm responsible for her. I made her what she is.” I looked at the 11mm automatic he had pulled out of the desk and smiled. “And I won't allow someone like you to have her.”

Predictably, he shot me. Five times, actually.

And yes, I got thrown against the wall, even broke one of his bookcases as I was thrown back when the rounds hit me.

“Damn, I hate that.” I shook myself, moved the ruins of the shelf away and stood up to give him an almost gentle smile. “That hurts like a bitch, but I'm already dead. You can't kill me.

“And you just really pissed me off, by the way.”

He fired again, and again, until all he got was empty clicks as he did. I glided forward, took the pistol from his hand and tossed it away. “I am vengeance incarnate, and you just really upset me. I would have made this easy, but you wouldn't have that.

“So now,” I sighed. “You're going to have to go through a really nasty death.”

I reached into the pipes the fed his gas fed fireplace and bent some of them until they broke.

“Just a hint of what you're going to have to endure once this is over.” I told him as the gas hit the flickering flames and those erupted into an inferno.

And I stayed there and watched him burn.

And yes, I was sick after that.

I'm inhuman, I know that, but I'm not Inhuman. If you can understand that at all.

But the man who had purchased Samira wasn't there to pay the millions that he had bid.

No one, no one, was going to buy Samira.

Best? It looked like an accident.

Gods, the way the Furies could do things. And I was following in their footsteps. Without the least hint of remorse.

But I protected those I felt I owed things to.

The next one was a surprise. I had planned to let that one go, but something, intuition, another feeling, or Tisiphone's insistence made me go to the second highest bidder.

“Spectre.” The guy, handsome — and yes I was noticing that so don't give me grief over it, okay — smiled at me and gestured to a chair. “Have a seat. We need to talk.”

I have to admit that I was taken by surprise at that one. Mostly people see me and try to run, or bluff things out, or shoot me. This guy wasn't doing any of that. He simply waved to a chair and waited.

I sat down, I could kill him any time I liked, but was more than a little curious at his response when I just showed up in his office. “Talk about what?”

“Oh, try a slavery ring that even if you stop it won't really help the poor girls, or guys, that got caught up in it?” He looked me right in my blazing red eyes and didn't flinch.

“I'm here to kill you.” I told him matter of factly.

“I know.” He gave me a very winning smile and shrugged. “I'm the second highest bidder on a girl who you are very interested in,

“Before you do that, I would like to show you something. Humor me here. If I'm going to die you should at least let me show you why I'm doing this.”

“Try it.”

He reached into a pocket in his suit and produced a folder that opened up to show a badge. “I'm FBI and we've been very interested in the same thing that you appear to be going up against. But up until a few days ago we had nothing to work with but rumor. You just finished our one link to this thing, by the way.”

I looked at him, I mean really looked. Like seeing into his mind and soul. That is a bit creepy, by the way.

“Michael Harris.” I nodded and shook my head. “You guys know about this mess?”

“Oh, yeah.” He answered. “We also know that the slaves are transformed males or girls who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. Or were in someone's way.

“And we want to stop it.” He told me simply. “Like you do.”

I just nodded.

“We also know that all the victims aren't changed physically.”

“So why haven't you moved to stop it?”

“Location, dear lady.” He said with a little shrug. “We don't know where these things are being done.”

“I can give you two locations.” I answered. “But you would need to wait a bit. There are more than a few of us 'Metas' that want these bastards. If you guys jumped the gun, most of them would get away.”

“I know about Dolores.” He told me while giving me that level, uncompromising look that your school principal gave you after you sneaked into the girl's locker room and got caught.

“Then you should know that we aren't going to stand for them being just arrested.”

Harris nodded, then did something that few people had done since I died. He looked me right in the eye, smiled, and nodded. “Neither will we.”

“A lot of these people are going to die.”

“If I can shoot one of them,” He told me, “it's all good.”

And he meant that.

Damn, I had been human, but humanity constantly surprised me now that I was something else.

“An amazing race, aren't they?” Tisiphone asked once I'd left Harris with a phone number and the promise that I would let him know when the metas were going to move.

“Yeah.” I answered. “At times they actually make me proud of coming from them.”

“As you should be.” The fury answered. “Your people have the potential to be more, much more, than anything the old gods ever dreamed of.”

“Yeah, you've told me that berfore, and before, and...” I answered.

“Truth is never something that grows old in the telling.” She answered and I could actually feel the grin she was wearing when she did it.

The bitch.

“The FBI?” Lena and Doris both questioned at once after I'd told them about what had happened during my last meeting while Lena continued. “Even if they know about this, what could they do, how much do they know?”

“They know about as much as we did in the beginning.” I answered. “Which isn't enough to accomplish much but is enough to be frustrated about the whole thing.

“As to what they could do?” I grinned evilly. “Their participation would give something like legitimacy to what we're planning to do, and trust me, Agent Harris doesn't want these perps in prison, he wants them dead just like we do.”

“How can you be so sure of that?” Doris questioned with some disbelief in her tone and expression.

“Doris.” I let out a sigh and knew that my expression was a sad one. “One my more unsettling abilities, even for me, is that I can see into a person's soul. They might be able to fool their minds, but the soul always shows true.

“And Agent Harris, and his team are more than outraged about this chip slave thing on a gut level that doesn't need explained. They want blood because of it, and law aside, they're determined to get it.”

“Okay, so what do we do with that bit of information?” Lena asked.

“Send what we have to this e-mail address.” I handed her a slip of paper. “I know you can hide where it came from and doing it myself involves appeasing all kinds of weird spirits and things.”

“You calling something else weird.” Doris shook her head. “Now I've heard it all, I think.”

“Not by half.” I chuckled. “But I'll spare you the learning curve on that one this time around.”

“I'll take that as good thing.” Giganta snorted then grinned back at me.

“Oh, yeah. Trust me.” I nodded.

Kyle, the Green Lantern finally got into the conversation. “I have a problem with law enforcement of whatever kind being perverted to killing.”

“Kyle, Kyle,” I shook my head and moved to take his hand in mine while giving it a squeeze. “You are so much The Law, that I think you're loosing track of being human. We've found an abomination here, one that could have been a miracle, and our allies in law enforcement know that as well as we do. They know this needs to be wiped out for now, or humanity itslef could be in for a darker period than it, or a lot of other races, have ever faced. They're angry, outraged, and feel betrayed.

“They want to end this as badly as we do, and they are more grounded in the stakes than us. Those chips could enslave any of them. At least some of us could resist that. And you know Americans. We'll let people revile us, ridicule us, preach against us, but when they really push? We push back, harder.”

He huffed at that one for a minuite then grew less tense and actually laughed, even if it was a bit strained. “Okay, I see your point. But I still have problems with how bloodthirsty this plan is becoming.”

“Believe it or not, so do I.” I answered. “I'm not actually the bloodthirsty, implacable force of nature that I've been painted as. But I'm kind of the god's chemotherapy for humanity. I get rid of the cancers that might kill, or stunt the race. I don't always like doing it, but what I do is necessary. Plus, in spite of what the popular media says, I do have a sense of mercy. Those are the things that most people just don't see, is all. The ones I show it to don't talk, and I'm not going to out them by saying anything either.”

“I know.” Kyle nodded and pulled me into a hug. “You, Diana, Deena, Spectre, are a confusingly complex individual. One I'm very glad I met.”

I looked up into his face, and absolutely gorgeous eyes — did I mention that about him? -- and just smiled.

“Uhh, guys?” Lena interrupted. “This is all nice and gooey, but we — you know — have other things to work on just now?”

Another presence was with us in the warehouse now.

“Hello, Phoenix.” I greeted her as I moved away from my second, but not in the least less important Kyle.

“And I thought you were awe inspiring.” Lena breathed as she looked at me then back to the blazing, but held in, glory of Phoenix.

Even I, who have actually seen gods, was nearly transfixed by the blazing beauty and strength Phoenix was.

“It is close to time, isn't it?” She asked.

“Yeah.” I nodded then smirked. “By the way, how's your love life going?”

“Good.” That being of fire and glory actually giggled. Which pretty much gobsmacked everyone in the room, even Kyle. “Thanks for the advice.”

She toned down her appearance and was just Jean, a pretty teenaged girl after that.

“Show off.” I smirked at her.

“Look who's talking.” Jean chuckled.

“Oh, yeah.” I went back to my Deena form and laughed as I went to give Jean a hug. “Glad you got my message.”

“As if I could ignore FIVE emails from an obviously supernatural source.” She snorted.

“Just wanted to make sure you got it.” I grumbled. “Sometimes my — umm — ISP gets cranky about passing things along. Case in point, I sent it fifteen times.”

At that stage, Lena cleared her throat to get my attention. “Umm, Deena, could you go back to being Diana right now?”

“Sure.” I did that then gave her a questioning look. “But why now?

“Because someone is here who actually wants to see you as Diana, The Spectre.” She replied, then opened a door that led back into the real living quarters of the wharehouse. “She knows you that way is all.”

She was wan, and looked weak and tired, but determined as she slowly walked out into the warehouse proper.

I smiled in genuine pleasure as I saw her, and moved to stand in front of her as one hand lightly touched her cheek, then I accepted the tight hug she gave me and returned it.

“Thank you.” She whispered as we hugged. “You made me see that I have strengths that aren't involved with my change. That my mind, my intetlligence is my true strength.”

“Are you up to this right now?” I softly questioned with real concern.

“I may not be up to my usual standards physically just now,” She smiled then got a very determined look on her beautiful face and tapped her head while giving me a girlish grin. “But I have other options, and you know I wouldn't be out of this if I could barely get enough breath to survive. I can contribute.”

“You already have.” I answered and hugged her again. Megan, Miss Mars, was the last piece of the intricate puzzle I'd been working so hard to put together. She was here, and determined to help. “And you need to be in on this, I know.”

“Thank you.”

“You did it all yourself, dear.” I told her seriously. “I just showed you a path that might work. You're the one who walked it.”

“Let's get these bastards.” She breathed.

“We will. I promised.