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DC Futures Fan Fiction focuses on the future of the DC Universe. Characters in DCF are often the descendents and proteges of the modern-day DC characters, but they are original creations of the authors.

Dr. Mid-Nite created by Charles Reizenstein & Stanley Asch. 
Dr. Mid-Nite: DCF created by Schuyler Bush
Zen Reaper created by Mich McNally

*****

Dr. Mid-Nite: DCF
"Darkness is my Ally"
Chapter Three
Written by Schuyler Bush
(Zenreaper@yahoo.com)
Edited by Jason Tippitt

*****

The Honshu Metroplex is one of the world's largest 
metropolises. The area's combined 2112 population exceeds 62 
million. This population consists of the descendants of old 
Japan, and the millions of people who immigrated to the island 
after the "Great Troubles" of the early 21st century.
    Volcanism, earthquakes, and other natural disasters drastically 
changed the landscape and culture of Nippon in the 21st 
century. Much of the industrial infrastructure in old Japan had 
been built on landfill materials, from which artificial islands 
were sometimes created. Because landfill materials can liquefy 
during earthquakes, the many earthquakes that struck in the 
late 20th and early 21st centuries caused tremendous destruction 
in this densely populated area. Nearly two thirds of the 
population were killed.
    After the collapse of the old Japanese government, the island 
became a refuge for political and social malcontents from 
around the world. Millions of people settled in the ruins of 
what had been Japan, and built a lawless, anarchistic society. 
In 2075, Kyoto City and the UniGen corporation were founded in 
the shadow of this chaos. By 2090, Kyoto City was casting the 
shadows over the rest of Honshu, and was asked to join the UN.

*****

Justice League Embassy
New York City, NorAm

Jonathon Bolander massaged his temples, hoping to rub away the 
fatigue and aggravation. He was a warrior, not a bureaucrat. 
Nevertheless, the League insisted that its squad leaders stay 
informed about events that might affect them all. Thus was born 
the endless stream of reports, memos, and analyses that flooded 
his Telenet account on a daily basis, all of which Bolander had 
to read and initial. 
    < And for some perverse reason, we still call it 'paperwork'. 
As if it was still printed on plant fibers or something,  > the 
man known to the world as Hourman thought to himself. 
    <It's not as if I don't have enough on my mind these days, what 
with Lewis getting shot, and that damn "Wonder Woman" 
incident…> (see recent issues of Suicide Squad: DCF and Sudden 
Death for details about Hourman's troubles – Helpful Schuyler)
    <Well, hating it doesn't make it go away any faster, and 
Mentalist is probably watching right now through a Spy Eye, or 
one of our telepaths. > Feeling more aggravated than usual with 
the lack of privacy all Justice Leaguers lived with, he stuck 
his tongue out at the nearest wall, hoping some technician was 
monitoring him just then. 
    "Telescreen, display next message," he muttered, bringing his 
eyes to focus on the screen in front of him. His exhaustion was 
quickly forgotten when he saw the high-level security 
encryption on the message. Patiently he waited while the 
computer hidden in his desk bathed him with scanning beams to 
confirm his identity and security clearance.
    <Well, THAT'S interesting, > Bolander whistled in surprise as 
he scanned the contents of the message. Apparently someone had 
managed to break into the Justice League computer system and 
access classified materials. The culprit was thought to have 
recently been in Nippon, and was the prime suspect in a mass 
murder there. Hourman's eyes fell on a colored hyperlink at the 
bottom of the message. Its yellow icon indicated a potentially 
related item. He waved his light pencil over the link, activating it.
    Reading the next memo, Bolander almost dismissed it as a barely 
related subject. Apparently there were unconfirmed reports of a 
masked vigilante operating in Nippon. He opened his mouth to 
tell the computer to delete the message when he noticed the 
vigilante's name.
    "Who the hell is Dr. Mid-Nite?"

*****

Honshu Free Clinic
Sterling Street, Iga Province

"James, will you PLEASE stop channel surfing like that? You're 
driving me crazy," Lt. Jacqueline Hasaki snapped. The two 
friends were in one of the clinic's recreation lounges, along 
with their other friend, Dr. Diego Siddig. James Baskon was 
sprawled comfortably on one of the comfortable recliners, still 
dressed in his expensive but rumpled pajamas even though it was 
late afternoon. In one hand he held an old fashioned remote 
control for the holo-wall, in the other was a half drunk 
martini. His long red hair was pulled back in a sloppy 
ponytail, and his aristocratic face was set in an expression of 
frustrated boredom. Diego and Jackie shared one of the nearby 
couches. Diego, as always, wore a doctor's lab-coat. His 
thinning black hair was slowly turning gray at the temples, and 
his dark features were beginning to show the marks of age and 
worry. 
Jackie, the youngest person in the room, looked slightly 
out of place in her Honshu Metroplex Police Department uniform. 
Her dark hair was cut severely short to accommodate the helmet 
she wore while on duty, and at the moment her almond shaped 
eyes were narrowed in aggravation at Baskon. The room was 
tastefully decorated in cheerful (but not garish) colors. 
Flowers from the clinic's rooftop greenhouse added color and 
fragrance to the atmosphere. A high-resolution holo-screen took 
up one wall, while the other walls were used to display artwork 
from one of the Art-Therapy groups. 
    "Hey, I'm trying to find the No Rules Fighting championship. 
James Marshall's going to be defending his title from that new 
kid, Thaddeus Grant. Should be a good fight. Can't understand 
why none of the networks are carrying it though, maybe it was 
canceled?"
    "Maybe he'll forfeit, and you can come out of retirement. The 
Return of the Nippon Kid!" Diego said, with a teasing smile.
    "Ha! There's a world of difference between collegiate free-
boxing and the NRC championship," James Baskon replied.
    "Oh you're too modest my friend. You were captain of the team, 
AND you won the Eurasian Collegiate Finals your senior year."
    "That was a long time ago Diego. A looonngg time ago."
    "Hmph. That free-boxing crap wouldn't have done you much good 
in the NAF (NorAm Armed Forces – the UN's military) combat 
training courses.  And I'd like to see one of these No Rules 
fighters get in a ring with drill sergeant from boot camp!" 
Jackie interjected.
    "Oh Gawd, not another boot camp story. Please, I beg you!" The 
three friends all chuckled at that, and Jackie actually blushed.
    "Okay, okay. No boot camp stories. By the way James, I meant to 
ask you, how's Brian doing?"
    "Well, he dumped me about a month ago. Said I was a good for 
nothing lazy drunken wastrel who planned on doing nothing but 
frittering his life away. Since he was absolutely right, that, 
as they say, was that."
    "Damn James, I'm sorry to hear that. I know how much you liked 
him." Baskon merely shrugged, and pretended to watch whatever 
program was displayed on the holo-wall.
    "Uhm, well, how about you Diego? How are things here at the 
clinic?" Jackie asked, deciding to change the subject.
    "Well enough I suppose. We had a few cases of Nosferatis week 
before last though, gave us a bit of a scare."
    "Damn, not the Goth plague, that's the last thing we need!"
    "Don't worry, the patients recovered completely, and no other 
cases have been reported yet. Hopefully we stopped it before it 
became a full fledged outbreak. Still, I'd feel more comfortable if we
knew how the disease had cropped up again."
    "You're telling me! I'm not too happy with the thought of 
dealing with a bunch of half-crazed dying people who're trying 
to eat everyone they meet," Jackie exclaimed. Diego could only 
nod in agreement. The victims of Nosferatis became extremely 
pale as the disease progressed, and the fever that came with it 
drove them crazy. Huge amounts of adrenaline and endorphins 
began flooding their bloodstream, and they invariably became 
homicidal. Luckily the disease could be cured in its early 
stages.
    "Well, I'm sure you guys have everything under control. By the 
way, thanks again for doing this autopsy for me. I know you 
could get in a lot of trouble for it. Still, I'd feel better if 
you'd done it yourself, instead of having your assistant do 
it."
    "It's my pleasure Jackie. After all, you've done quite a few 
favors for us over the years. As for my assistant Greg, don't 
worry. He's extremely skilled, and I trust him absolutely. And 
I wouldn't worry about us getting into any trouble. The HMPD 
can't touch us. The clinic may be privately funded," and Diego 
gestured at James, and the billionaire grinned back. "But we 
operate under a United Nations charter. Officially, the local 
police have no jurisdiction here."
    "Well, you two are just full of surprises. All these years I've 
known you, and that little tidbit never came up. Any other 
secrets I should know about?"
    "Of course not Jackie. My ask you a personal question however?"
    "I suppose…"
    "Why the autopsy? No offense, but you've never seemed 
interested in bucking the system before. Why so angry suddenly 
at flesh-gangers going unpunished? Why is it so important to 
track down whoever killed this girl?"
    "It just is Diego. I have my reasons, okay?"
    "Of course, I didn't mean to pry." The conversation was 
interrupted at that point when Diego's assistant, Dr. Gregory 
Hatsumi Lee, entered the room. The young man was dressed in a 
lab-coat like Dr. Siddig's, with the exception that Lee's was 
covered in blood. In one hand he held a data-comp, and on his 
face he wore strange goggles, similar to the kind of eye wear 
used for Virtual Reality.
    "Niicceee spectacles Greg!" Baskon said, looking up at the 
young intern.
    "Thank you Mr. Baskon, I'm glad you like them," Lee answered 
with a shy grin.
    "Uhm boys, I don't want to be nosy, especially seeing as how 
you're doing me a big favor and all, but aren't those NAF issue 
sensor goggles? If I remember correctly, its illegal for 
civilians to own or use them…" Jackie asked.
    "Well, let's just say they were a 'gift' from an anonymous 
donor," Diego answered with a small smile. "But come to think 
of it Lt. Hasaki, those goggles only came into use last year, 
well after you left the NAF and joined the police. How is it 
you recognize them?"
    "Ah well, I guess you busted me Diego. The truth is, I managed 
to 'requisition' a case of them for the officers in my squad. 
The HMPD maintains a few contacts with the NAF, especially my 
boss, Commander Ross.  I won't tell if you don't."
    "It's a deal Jackie. Now Greg, I'm assuming those are the 
autopsy results you have?"
    "Yes Dr. Siddig. I determined that the young woman was killed 
two days ago, after being bound with a length of tarred rope. 
The removal of most of her organs was done on board an older 
military ship, probably a Chinese naval vessel, which most 
likely was in Chiba Harbor at the time."
    "Wow, I'm impressed Greg. How'd you figure all that out?" 
Baskon asked, his expression of boredom changing to one of 
intense interest.
    "Using these sensor goggles, I was able to discover organic 
fibers in the cuts on the girl's wrists. They were hemp fibers 
covered in a petroleum derivative commonly known as tar. Hence 
the tarred rope, which was commonly used on nautical vessels 
until hemp products were largely replaced by Kevlar. Underneath 
her nails and in some of her wounds, I found flakes of a 
corroded metal alloy, which was exclusively used by the Chinese 
military in the late 21st century for the construction of their 
Navy. Hence my identification of the vessel. I also discovered 
that her clothing and skin showed evidence of recent exposure 
to a rare form of algae. That algae can only be found in our 
Chiba Harbor here in Nippon." 
    "Again I say, 'Wow!' That's some damn fine detective work 
Greg," Baskon replied, obvious respect for the doctor on his 
face.
    "I hope that was helpful Lt. Hasaki?" Greg asked Jackie.
    "Very mush so Dr. Lee. I don't think I'll have too much trouble 
tracking down an old rusty Chinese warship anchored in Chiba 
Harbor! Gotta run boys!" And with that, Jackie stood up, fierce 
determination in her eyes.

*****

A dark alley across the street from the Honshu Free Clinic

A man dressed in a wrinkled Keravin business suit sat on a 
dumpster, watching the clinic with narrowed eyes. He'd been 
there for quite some time now, observing the people that came 
in and out of the clinic. He was feeling twitchy, and the 
ground around him was littered with several packs worth of 
cigarette butts. He kicked over a  crumpled food carton in 
frustration.
    <Damn, my contact AND my target are both inside there. What the 
Hell's going on?  A double-cross maybe? This was supposed to be 
a straight forward job. Just snatch and grab. Now this. Should 
I just storm in and do the job? Or wait and see what's going 
on? >
    With a sigh the killer called Zen Reaper sat back down, 
beginning a series of Tibetan calming techniques. After several 
minutes of rhythmic breathing, he felt more clear-headed.
    <No, I'll wait. Only an amateur goes into a situation without 
fully understanding it. Besides, I'm getting paid by the day. 
But I'm gonna need more smokes…>
    On a nearby rooftop, another figure was watching the clinic, 
and the Zen Reaper. Deadeye Dick had managed to track down the 
vigilante known as Dr. Mid-Nite to this clinic, but the sight 
of the man in the alley had stopped him for the moment. He 
wasn't sure what was happening here. Like the other observer, 
he settled in to wait. 

*****

Honshu Metroplex Police Headquarters 
Iga Province, Nippon

Like an ancient samurai preparing for battle, Commander Nori 
Ross pulled on his gloves. Picking an imaginary piece of lint 
from his dress uniform, he gave his small, spartan office a 
final visual check, then decided that his battlefield was as 
ready as it would ever be. He pressed the intercom button on 
his desk terminal and spoke in the calm authoritative voice he 
reserved for these occasions.
    "Please ask the Daimyo to come in."
    The door opened with a quiet hiss, and two men entered. The 
first was the Daimyo called Jade Monkey, of the Iga Province 
Bouryokudan (gangster organization). Jade Monkey was a short 
man in his late sixties. Despite his age, the Gen'aku (head 
gangster) was a vigorous man who had stayed in excellent shape. 
His squat frame was still sheathed in powerful muscles that 
stretched his expensive black suit. Like Ross, he was also one 
of those rare people in Nippon who could claim to be of purely 
Japanese descent.
    Behind him came one of his gunjin. The gunman took a position 
next to the door and stared straight ahead, effectively 
imitating an inanimate object. Ross noted the fact that the 
soldier's pinky finger on his left hand was missing the last 
joint. This was a common practice among the criminal 
organizations in Nippon, and it dated back to ancient times. It 
signified a bond of duty and loyalty to the head of his 
Bouryokudan.
    Ross gestured towards the chair opposite his desk, inviting the 
Daimyo to sit down. The Commander then poured sake from an 
electric pot on his desk. He set one cup in front of the 
Gen'aku, and one in front of himself. Jade Monkey raised an 
eyebrow, recognizing the sakazuki ritual. This ancient practice 
was performed to define the relative social status when two 
people met. The two cups were both filled  to the rims with 
warm rice wine, a declaration that Ross considered  them to be 
social equals. The Daimyo frowned at this, but drank the sake 
down in one gulp, tacitly accepting Ross as an equal. The 
Commander drank without expression, but inside the sake and a 
sense of having scored the first victory warmed him.
    "How may I assist you today Daimyo?" Ross asked in a calm, 
neutral voice. The Gen'aku seemed to hesitate for a moment 
before answering. 
    "As you are no doubt aware Commander, my organization has been 
plagued by…certain troubles over the last month," Ross gave a 
small nod of acknowledgement and waited for Jade Monkey to 
continue. The Daimyo cleared his throat, obviously 
uncomfortable with discussing the topic with an outsider. "I 
would consider it a great…favor…if your department would form a 
task force to deal with this masked vigilante who has been 
hounding my operations."
    Ross, leaned back in his chair, carefully keeping an expression 
of astonishment of his face. The Bouryokudans of Nippon NEVER 
went to the police for help. This was a rare opportunity, and 
one that had to be handled with great care.
    "I assume you're talking about this…Dr. mid-Nite character?"
    "Yes, that is the name he has given my gunjin. Apparently the 
arrogant dog wishes to be a 'superhero', like the ones in 
NorAm."
    "Yes well, be that as it may, I'm not sure the department 
SHOULD form a task force to deal with this…person." Jade 
Monkey's face flushed with anger, but before he could open his 
mouth to speak, Ross continued. "Please, if I might explain? 
How would it look to the other Daimyos if the police were to 
help you in such an obvious fashion? It might be seen as a sign 
of…weakness. I don't think that's something you can afford 
right now. However, there might be something less obvious we 
can do."
    "You raise a good point Commander. What do you propose?"
    "Simply that I 'unofficially' alert my officers to arrest this 
Dr. Mid-Nite. When that happens, we turn him over to you. All 
off the official record of course." The Daimyo smiled, stood up 
and bowed to Ross.
    "You have a fine grasp of tactics Commander. My organization is 
in debt to you. Would you ever consider coming to work for me? 
You would be a valuable asset." 
    "Thank you for the offer Daimyo, but no. I'm afraid my life is 
devoted to civil service," Ross replied, then stood up and 
returned the Daimyo's bow.
    "Well then, if you ever change your mind the offer remains 
open. We will leave you to your work now Commander," with that 
Jade Monkey gestured to his gunjin and the two left the office. 
Ross sat back down, and with a sigh of relief, removed his 
uniform gloves. The meeting had gone far better than he'd 
expected. He mulled over the possibilities it had presented, 
and rubbed the scarred stump of his left pinky finger, which 
was missing the last joint.

*****

Chiba Harbor, Nippon

Night had fallen on Nippon, obscuring the jumbled skyline of 
crumbling buildings in a merciful  shroud of darkness. In the 
distance, the glowing force fields that protected Kyoto City 
from the rest of Honshu Island lit up the sky. Behind Kyoto 
City, the once proud peak of Mount Fuji could just barely be 
glimpsed. In Chiba Harbor several rusting hulks sat at 
permanent anchor. Once they had been proud ships that commanded 
the oceans of the world. Now they merely floated in place, 
slowly corroding away, reminders of a by-gone age of commerce 
when the seas had been the gateways to power.
    On the deck of one of these grand old ladies of the sea, Dr. 
Mid-Nite stood up, an unconscious flesh-ganger at his feet. The 
other guards who had been patrolling the deck of the decrepit 
naval vessel were already asleep, victims of the sleeping gas 
form Dr. Mid-Nite's multi-gun. With the last sentry taken care 
of, he approached a nearby porthole. Overhead his robotic ally, 
the artificial owl named Hooty, kept watch, ever vigilant.
    Peering into the porthole, Dr. Mid-Nite saw a scene that made 
his blood boil. In what had once been a cargo hold, several 
crude bunks had been arranged. On these beds were eviscerated 
bodies, obviously members of the Eta caste, barely kept alive 
by the complex life support systems they were attached to. All 
of the victims were missing various limbs, and several seemed 
to be lacking crucial internal organs. They all wore blissful, 
almost ecstatic expressions, no doubt supplied by the 
intravenous drips that fed into their veins. None of them 
appeared to be older than their early teens. Most were far 
younger. Having seen enough, Dr. Mid-Nite prepared for his 
assault.
    Inside, the ship's owner and operator, a chop-doc known as 
Waldorf Toorima, walked amongst his 'patients', checking the 
various readouts displayed on their bio-monitors. He was an 
elderly man, with a kind, almost grandfatherly appearance. A 
warm gentle smile was on his face as he increased the flow of 
an IV here, or softly caressed a fevered forehead there.  He 
spoke to the people in the bunks in a sing-song, crooning 
voice, the sort that one uses to comfort a newborn child. 
Behind him, two strange figures followed him on his rounds. The 
first was a tall, almost skeletally thin man who had a grayish 
brown, downy, feathery covering over his entire body. He held a 
shinai, a bamboo practice sword used in Kendo, loosely in one 
hand. His only garment was a simple loincloth. His companion 
was a powerfully built woman, whose skin had a greenish, 
leathery look to it. She wore a brightly colored kimono with 
stylized dragons that ran rampant across the garment. 
    "So Kenku, what do you think of my children?" Toorima asked the 
feathery bird-man.
    "I try not to," was the quiet response. The brutish looking 
lizard woman next to him laughed. Toorima glanced at her 
sharply, his eyes blazing with fury.
    "My children are no laughing matter Madamukora. Until you and 
Kenku have paid your debt to me for your bio-enhancements, you 
would do well to remember that"
    "Walter Toorima, I am sure that Madamukora meant no disrespect. 
We are your humble servants until that time that are debts are 
paid in full," Kenku replied with a deep bow.
    "My apologies Kenku, and Madamukora. It's just that I'm very 
sensitive when it comes to my children. After all, if not for 
me, who would care for them? The world has cast them aside to 
starve and suffer. I take them in, and give their lives 
meaning. They spend their last days on earth in pure ecstasy, 
with the knowledge that their lives will go towards making 
others healthy and happy. I ask you, what greater gift could I 
give them?" 
    An outburst of rude laughter disturbed the conversation at that 
point. Toorima glared at the source of this interruption. Three 
members of the flesh-gang called the Lounge Lizards were 
huddled in a corner of the room, playing Mahjong. Apparently 
someone had just had a stroke of luck and was loudly gloating 
over his victory. Toorima seethed inside, hating the presence 
of these yotamonos.  In his mind they were nothing more than 
simple hooligans; layabouts, good-for-nothing thugs. But they 
worked for the Daimyo, and he had insisted that all of his 
operations needed stronger security. So the chop-doc tolerated 
their presence, but just barely.  He opened his mouth to tell 
them once again to be quiet, when mayhem broke out.
    The large steel door that the Lounge Lizards were squatting in 
front of burst open with an ear-shattering shriek. Torn 
violently from its hinges, the massive door collapsed right on 
top of the stunned flesh-gangers with bone breaking force. The 
proud figure of Dr. Mid-Nite stood in the exposed doorway as he 
took the situation in at a glance. Tumbling into the macabre 
torture chamber of Walter Toorima, Dr. Mid-Nite shot off a 
number of gas pellets from his bulky multi-gun.
    Kenku and Madamukora shoved Toorima behind them, facing the 
trench-coated vigilante. Toorima began coughing as the clouds 
of gas filled the room, then he slumped over one of the bunks, 
unconscious. A frown crossed Mid-Nite's face when he realized 
the two bodyguards weren't succumbing to the sleep-gas. His 
frown was met by a pair of toothy grins as the two bio-enhanced 
mercenaries saw his consternation. Kenku began spinning his 
shinai, and Madamukora dropped into a Sumo fighting stance. 
    "Well, well. Looks like we're gonna get to earn our pay finally 
Kora," the gaunt bird-man chuckled.
    "Ha, he don't look so tough to me. Let's see how he does 
against something a bit tougher than some pissant flesh-
gangers." Suddenly, faster than the human eye could follow, Dr. 
Mid-Nite leapt at Kenku. Unfortunately for the Honshu Avenger, 
Kenku was no longer entirely human.  With blinding grace, the 
avian assassin spun away from Mid-Nite's leap, striking a 
glancing blow with his shinai to the base of Mid-Nite's neck. 
The vigilante managed to control his leap, despite the pain 
shooting through his entire body. He rolled to a stop near a 
bulkhead and came up in a fighting stance, obvious pain etched 
on his face.
    <Damn, he's a hell of a lot faster than me, and probably a 
better fighter.  Maybe I'll have better luck with the other 
one,> Dr. Mid-Nite thought through the fog of agony that the 
one blow had caused. His lower limbs felt like jelly, and his 
arms shook uncontrollably. He knew that he'd been struck in a 
vital nerve cluster, and that his nervous system was in a state 
of shock.
    "You're fast boy, no doubt about it. Not exactly Flash Corp 
material, but you're pretty fast," Kenku mocked.  Dr. Mid-Nite 
didn't answer, but rather leapt again, this time straight at 
Madamukora.  The slower moving lizard-woman didn't bother 
trying to dodge, instead she took Mid-Nite's attack head on.  A 
flying kick, similar to the one hat had destroyed the cargo 
hold's armored door with ease, crashed into her stomach. Her 
only reply was a grunt, as Dr. Mid-Nite  practically bounced 
off of her. Madamukora lashed out then, but Mid-Nite easily 
rolled out of the way. The bulkhead behind him wasn't as 
fortunate.  It crumpled like cloth beneath the force of 
Madamukora's blow. 
    A feeling of cold dread gripped at Dr. Mid-Nite as he realized 
that this was a fight he might not win. Steeling himself for 
the battle to come, Mid-Nite reached into one of the inner 
pockets of his dark green trench-coat, and pulled out a small 
capsule. He flung the marble sized pellet at Madamukora, and it 
shattered in her face. A silvery liquid spilled over her eyes, 
and the brutish woman howled with pain as she felt her eyes 
shatter like glass. The quicksilver substance was a cryogenic 
chemical even colder than liquid nitrogen. Where it came into 
contact with Madamukora's cornea, the liquid in those cells 
froze so rapidly that they shattered the cell walls like cheap 
glass.
    The howling woman desperately tried to hold the splinters of 
her eyes in place as Dr. Mid-Nite flung himself at Kenku once 
again. But the feathered swordsman was too fast to be taken 
unawares. Once again he dodged Mid-Nite's attack, and again he 
stabbed out with his bamboo sword. This time he caught Dr. Mid-
Nite underneath his armpit, in a fleshy, vulnerable spot.  Mid-
Nite felt his entire left side go numb, and fell to the floor 
in a heap. A huge fist crashed into the side of his head as 
Madamukora lashed out blindly.  Blow after blow began raining 
down in him from his two assailants. Dr. Mid-Nite drew his 
wrist-com in front of his mouth and barked out in a voice 
flushed with pain, 
    "Hooty! 911! I repeat! 911!"

*****

In a dark room at the Honshu Free Clinic, a red light on a 
computer console began flashing repeatedly.

*****

To Be Continued

*****

Next issue;
We really do find out who Dr. Mid-Nite is! No really…
It's also the end of the first Dr. Mid-Nite mini-series!

The DCFutures FanFiction Group recognizes that Dr. Mid-Nite and all related characters are property of DC Comics. These stories are written for no profit, but rather a strong desire to peer into the future of the DCU. The stories and concepts presented herein, however, are property of the author. So there.

This DC Futures story is © 1999 by .

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