Fly me to the moon

[jla-villains.livejournal.com]

Conrad Laughlin was a man on a mission.  More than anyone besides his specialists knew of.  The Justice League's Watchtower satellite required minute-by-minute updates and maintenance.  This is not something normally handled by its members, so tech support is always moving through.  

The background check is well and truly exhausting.  One day's work requires a month of informational requests, as well as interviews with family, and what appeared to be a "spirit sniffing" from a rhyming gargoyle.  That was the strangest part of the entire day so far.  The fact Laughlin's packed lunch now bore the faint smell of brimstone was just an added bonus. 

He wasn't able to bring any of his own tools as everything necessary would be provided by the League staff, and a schematic as to what he'd be facing was completely out of the question.  Conrad was working blind here, but when your client bases itself on universal security, its a moot point. 

Turning to the worker next to him in a rather bright orange (with garish blonde work-boots), he spoke quickly.  "If the pay for this wasn't ridiculous, I'd almost do it for the sights.  Where are you out of?"

Comments

[jla-blackgate.livejournal.com]

The third workman flinches as his colleague's face ripples. "Cuba. Just goes to show we ain't all bad, eh? Heh heh heh." His forced jocularity comes to an abrupt halt when he notices his workmate's face ripple again.

"Sorry, ese. I ain't takin' no risks with this one." Moon-jumping over to Conrad, Brutale draws a dagger from his spacesuit and cuts the oxygen lines running from the back of the workman's. With a kick, he launches the guy into outer space.

"Mis disculpas, asshole." Guillermo sends the signal back down to the Legion of Doom Headquarters that entry time is drawing near.