-- Washington DC Metrorail system damaged; confirmed reports say an explosion has occurred in the system. Details to come.

-- Secondary explosions hit the Metrorail system in the vicinity of Capitol Hill and the National Mall.

-- Unconfirmed sightings of the Justice League reported to the Associated Press. Details to come.

-- Sources tell CNN one of the explosions in Washington DC has caused the collapse of several federal buildings.

-- Significant fire in SW corner of the National Mall, the site of many federal agency headquarters including the Department of Transportation, The Department of Housing and Urban Development, and the Department of Education. Details to come.

-- CNN confirms Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, and The Flash are working to respond to the situation in Washington DC.

The close, hot blackness about him cracked with flares of electricity and the pop of concrete and tile giving way to heat and pressure. It was vaguely comforting in a twisted sort of way. This was the kind of environment he prepared for, excelled in. Bruce vaulted over a twisted bit of rail, forcing his way forward.

A far off rumble of earth moving caused more bits and pieces of architecture to break loose and fall. The small tunnel he was following was more a rat hole than a tunnel; the haphazard fall of blocks created a warren of tight spaces like a hamster's habitrail. Squeezing through a collapsing arch of blackened concrete, he felt bits of his cape catch and shred by the exposed rebar.

A seismic reading of the area showed no regional activity; of course, building a city on a swamp had its own dangers. The water under his feet wasn’t particularly deep but it was rank with casualties of the explosion. Oil slicks swirled around his feet punctuated by the occasional dead rat. Each time his feet rose above the morass they appeared splotched with the clinging wet remnants of papers lost from bags, briefcases, and the collapsed offices above. Here and there a suitcase or backpack floated by.

The way before him cleared as the dust settled, revealing the silent, devastated landscape. The upper level of the Metro station had collapsed onto the lower tracks, creating a large sunken crater on which he now stood poised. Metro cars lay half buried along the center-line of the hall, their pitted dulled tops marking their location. Closer to the center a few cars erupted from the rubble, straight on end, their garish ads for the morning news looking like decaying billboards set in a dusty grey desert.

Two trains had been in the station, the one line along the elevated top rail and another perpendicular, along the bottom. A quick comparison of the orientation of the cars to the system map confirmed that the cars in view were from the top level. That meant another train was buried below.

The stationmaster’s booth had fallen to the right, along the sloping side of the crater, and a quick glance told him that if someone had been in there, they weren’t alive now. Bruce vaulted over the unblocked gates to the left and sped down the left hand side of the station, making for the center cars. Now that he was in the open, more bodies were appearing, and few were moving. It was expected and he pushed on, refusing to acknowledge the sting.

“So far all readings are normal,” he spoke across the open channel as he quickly scaled one of the upended cars. “Biological and chemical contaminants are all expected and within the normal ranges for a demolition site. No unknown substances found."

The dust-covered seats of an upended car made a convenient ladder down towards the rear of the car and hopefully the lower level. A young woman hung limply from a broken seat. Her hair hung in strands, upswept pieces fighting the gravity and fallen pins. A diamond stud flared in the light as he climbed past, careful of where he placed his feet.

Towards the end of the car more people lay silent among the flotsam of a morning commute. He carefully shifted bodies, bags, and papers away from the rear door. Heaving, he slid it back far enough to squeeze through. The electrical fires that provided ghostly light to the station above didn’t reach this far down, so he pulled out a chemical stick, cracked it, and dropped it through the ruined rear door.

It didn’t fall far. Instead of following it, he tossed the remote probe into the hole and began to climb back up. The probe skittered away with the sound of settling pebbles.

“Superman. I’m blocked here, trying another route. What is your situation?”

“I’ve made it to the lower level and located the source of the explosion.” Clark’s voice came back.

“On my way.” He launched himself from the top of the car, catching his arm on exposed steel, which unbalanced the landing, but he took off at run in the direction of Clark’s beacon.

Superman rose up from the ground, floating out of a tunnel he’d fashioned down to the lower level. He was covered in dust and oil from his efforts to reach the scene, much like Bruce, but his cape hung full behind him, floating in the still air.

“They’re no longer a threat; they’re all dead. I’m going to see if I can find anyone alive above.” He was gone in a rush of air leaving the ghostly image of angry, glowing eyes.

Bruce vaulted down the handmade tunnel created by Clark to reach the lower levels of the station and made his way cautiously through the black. The evidence he was looking for slowly materialized in electronic lines of green of his assisted low light vision. The source of the blast was a broken car sitting near the end of the track. It was partially buried in rubble, but the visible side was ripped open and jagged. The pattern of destruction easily identified it as the source of the above devastation.

A sweep of the area showed no functioning electronics, no concentrated explosives, and no chemical or biological agents. It was clean. Forcing his body down from its heightened sense of readiness, Bruce turned away, stumbling briefly around a body that lay smoldering, the residual heat flaring on the infrared sensors.

“J’Onn,” Bruce spoke into the com, “situation contained. No further threat. Begin rescue coordination.”

-- Several federal buildings collapse; fire forces evacuation of others. The National Guard is evacuating citizens from critical evacuation points including the National Mall and the Rock Creek Park. The National Zoological Park is serving as triage for injured survivors rescued by the Justice League.

-- Portions of the Mall and Capitol Hill sinking into Metrorail tunnel system below.

WASHINTON DC (CNN) -- Terrorists struck the United States Tuesday morning in harrowing attacks that included at least two individual explosions on the Capitol’s public transportation system.

In the first attack, an explosion occurred within the L’Enfant about a third of the federal workforce every day. Plaza Metrorail Station in Washington, DC, shortly before 9 AM, followed by another explosion in the Smithsonian Station about 20 minutes later. The tunnels connecting the two stations later collapsed, leading to the collapse or partial collapse of several federal buildings in Southwest Washington.

The Washington Area Metropolitan Transit Authority told CNN that it lost three Metrorail trains in the initial explosions and another two in the resulting collapses. Fires and collapsing buildings will account for many more deaths. The Metrorail system transports

The White House, the State Department, the Justice Department, the Capitol, and all other government buildings in Washington were evacuated.

President Luthor cancelled an appearance in Florida although he did not return to Washington, calling the explosions "apparent terrorist attacks" and "a national tragedy."

In the first ever national ground stop of public transportation, all light rail systems and bus transportation nationwide have been stopped.

In Washington, more than 10,000 rescue personnel rushed to the scene, including members of the Justice League.

The entire Metro area was evacuated, including the Pentagon and portions of Virginia and Maryland along the National Metrorail lines, according to an official at an emergency command post.

-- DHS says no public transportation transit in U.S. until at least noon EDT tomorrow.

Today, our fellow citizens, our way of life, our very freedom came under attack in a series of deliberate and deadly terrorist acts. The victims were in trains, on their way to their offices, businessmen and women, military and federal workers; moms and dads, friends and neighbors. Thousands of lives were suddenly ended by evil, despicable acts of terror…

“Mr. Press Secretary! Is it true the Justice League were the first to arrive on the scene?”

The pop of flashes punctuated the proceedings, lending them an urgency conveyed in the highly contrasted press images beamed around the world. The Secretary looked tired and harried. It wasn’t his fault the President was still locked away behind a dark curtain of security, but America was scared and there were too many things left unsaid, so the pressroom snapped and baited.

“Local emergency response teams including fire and police were the first on scene and began immediately evacuating personnel and treating injuries. The Justice League arrived shortly thereafter and was dispatched into the station to search for continuing threats and for survivors.”

The President hadn’t been seen since his early morning photo shoot. Every now and then the announcers cut into the broadcast to reassure the viewing public that he was safe and protected while rolling film of him being ushered away by a wall of Secret Service.

“And the League was the first to confirm that the terrorists died in the attack?”

“That League pronounced the scene safe for rescue workers and assisted in the rescue effort after arriving on scene and performing an initial investigation. At this time, I won’t comment on the nature of the attack.”

“Mr. Press Secretary! A terrorist group based out of South America has claimed responsibility for the attack; when will America be launching retaliatory actions?”

A robust flurry of flashes exploded, capturing the smallest response from the politician. Later, pundits would dissect every wince, every wandering glance, and every pause looking for something to reassure or a reason to proclaim the falling sky.

“As of this time, it has not been confirmed that the terrorist cell to which you refer is in actuality the perpetrator of this attack. The President will act decisively and appropriately once all questions of responsibility have been resolved.”

Terrorists Set Explosions On Metro System, Destroying Federal Buildings; Thousands Dead

Justice League Saves Hundreds; Refuses War

By Steve Twomay and Arthur Saint

Washington Post Staff Writers

Rescuers and members of the Justice League fought tons of debris in a quest for victims of the terrorist attacks yesterday morning. Hundreds were pulled from the rubble of several Metrorail stations and federal buildings. Thousands more are feared lost and dead.

Amid calls for retribution, The Martian Manhunter released the following statement from the League: "The Justice League is horrified and saddened by the events of yesterday. Our hearts go out to the nation that has adopted them and been home to several of their members. The League is at the disposal of the President and the people of the United States to assist in rescue efforts. The League has also contacted the United Nations and stands ready to help with the international piece effort.” …

President Chavez Accuses America of Acts of War

By Michael Grund

Washington Post Staff Writer

Venezuelan President Hugo Chavez conducted a press conference this morning in which he accused the United States of using the powers of the Justice League in an effort to overthrow his legitimate government under the guise of searching for the terrorists responsible for the attacks earlier this month in Washington. The White House has stated categorically that it has no current mission in South America and has not requested anything other than relief efforts from the Justice League. The Justice League has also released a statement denying any involvement or recent activity in the area.

At the same time, there have been unverified reports of highly unusual deaths of several warlords hiding in the mountains of Venezuela and Columbia. …

The glow of the oversized screen sent tendrils of light seeping past the edges of the console only to be consumed by the hollow darkness of the Batcave. Press conference number three played out on the screen as Bruce watched. After a twelve-hour access blackout, the White House Press Office was making up for lost time.

The Secret Service forcing Lex Luthor to hide sequestered from the Press, while his city, the seat of American power, collapsed and burned, was a sight that Bruce regretted missing. He’d have to see if he could hack the Presidential Records.

Luthor stood at the podium with Superman standing off to his left but still in frame. As soon as he could be spared, J’Onn had sent Clark to stand guard over the President. Clark had insisted on it, regardless of what the world would say or assume about the League’s connection to the United States. The assignment was also indefinite, as Clark had said before flying off: “I’ll be back when I know Lex isn’t going to end up in a pile of smoldering wreckage.”

“ Civilized people around the world denounce the terrorists who devised and executed these terrible attacks. Justice demands that those who helped or harbored the terrorists be punished -- and punished severely. The enormity of their crime demands it.” Today the American president appeared in a less-than-crisp button-down shirt, sleeves pushed up to reveal his forearms. The Great Seal of America and the Man of Steel flanked him, creating a much different message. Bruce readjusted the image to frame the faces of the two men, concentrating on the silent communications in hooded eyes and stiff jaws.

No look passed between the two men on the screen but it wasn’t necessary to see that they were of one mind. The ramrod straight postures and the flint in their eyes promised retribution.

Targets now include paramilitary bases and residential blocks with suspect activities.

Two separate trips to each site had yielded no information. The sites were completely dead. In fact, he’d needed to visit neighboring areas to confirm with local peoples the anything had previously stood at the sites. There were no buildings, devastated or otherwise. No cars, whole or burned out. And no people. Soil analysis had confirmed the absence of life, even microbiological, as far as ten feet down.

Even more disturbing than the sites though was the fact that not once had he been able to catch the act on film. Satellite, local news feeds, even wandering tourists. In an age of media, the complete lack of resources disturbed him. Especially seeing as half his resources were only known to a select few, and a quarter only to himself.

So far his only lead had come from the first prison targeted. He’d tracked down one of the guards on duty that night to a local monastery. The man had been sequestered, refusing to speak.

The screen filled with the face of a scared man. The stone walls around him seemed to lend him no fortitude and he shivered in the still, warm air.

“The Voice of God,” broken man whispered fervently to himself. “Voice of God!” This time it was a proclamation, a statement of faith. “The Voice of God rang from Heaven. ‘Leave this place or die with the unjust!’ and there was fire from Heaven.” Here the man trailed off again, murmuring to himself bits and pieces of scripture, seemingly searching for the words he needed. “A ring of fire, burning down from Heaven, cleansing the earth. And we were saved.”

The man’s eyes held the fervor of the pious and the ardor of the insane. “Computer, cross reference the Superman’s location with time of attacks.

> 09.23.05 15:00:00 Press Conference – Washington DC> 03.23.05 17:03:52 Location Unknown

The scrolling date stamps were replaced with the probe data from the September 20^th attack. Bruce hadn’t had a need for it until now.

The chemical blue of a glow stick filled the screen, and scrolling data on temperature, altitude, air quality, etcetera, overlapped the right edge of the video. With a sickening twist and roll, the probe pushed itself deeper into the wreckage. Impatiently, he increased the playback speed, zooming past dark scenes of dust and rock punctuated by the occasional recognizable body part. The scene opened further, the edges of the recording expanding outward as the probe made its way into the open.

The file audio was corrupted but the picture remained clear. Clark. Holding an obviously injured figure by the neck. The body language told all the story he needed. Clark stood tall, his movements sudden and violent, his arms and chest expanding as he confronted the injured man. The frantic shaking and uncoordinated movements of the pinned man as he responded.

All too soon the scene played out. Clark unceremoniously dropped the man to the floor and stood staring down for a long moment. Then he pronounced judgment and the man burned.

A glance up marked the moment when Bruce had contacted Clark about his location. Clark paused long enough to blow the fires out before floating up and out of the frame.

The computer sat silent, finally shutting down to conserve energy, as Batman brooded.

The flight to the decommissioned Watchtower took twenty minutes. Even stopping in Gotham for the package, Bruce made it with three hours of darkness left.

The abandoned Watchtower had stood empty since the League had agreed to decommission it after the Brainiac fiasco. Now it spun uselessly in space, half-cannibalized by the engineers who were moving integral components to earth. Its geosynchronous orbit above North America wouldn’t bring it back around to the sun for another two hours and forty-one minutes.

One last time he checked the feed from the containment device. Deep down Bruce might feel sick but the anger was more than enough to keep other feelings at bay for now. After he had Clark there’d be plenty of time to find out what was going on. Discover when Clark had lost himself. And how Bruce had missed it.

“Superman. Please respond.” Clark was currently on down time, not in rotation but available to the League should the need arise. It was a convenient turn of events. No Manhunter to notify of his absence. No Lois to report him missing for another several hours.

“This is Superman.” He sounded alert. Bruce knew exactly how much sleep he needed and tonight Clark had obviously been awake. At one point he had even wondered what Clark did to occupy his time while the President slept, since he hadn’t returned to duty as of yet.

“ I have a link to the attacks. I’d like to keep this as private as possible. Please meet me at Watchtower One.”

Bruce stood still before the transportation pad, waiting, ready to respond the instant the electronics engaged. As the energy pulse spun up, he dropped the containment field, bathing the landing in a sickening green glow. A single figure resolved in the center of the pad. A figure that didn’t respond to the green surrounding him.

The mocking tone was familiar, but it still took Bruce a full second too long to reconcile the voice and man before him with the man he was expecting.

Lex smiled ferally at Bruce’s silence. “Thank you,” he offered as he casually stooped to remove the piece of Kryptonite from the projection device just outside of the circle of machinery.

Bruce had a stun capsule out and in the air before Luthor straightened. He was tempted to use something more explosive but the man was the democratically elected head of the United States.

A blur of red and blue swung between them and then Clark was on the ground, agony evident, but stun capsule carefully contained. Luthor finished straightening and slipped the glowing meteor into a heavy envelope. Immediately, Clark was recovered and he and the envelope were gone.

Things were quickly getting out of control and he was running through his options at a startling rate. Bruce took the opportunity presented by the missing Man of Steel to restrain Luthor with a tension wire and opened a channel to J’Onn. It had been stupid of him not to notify them before he attempted this.

A hard cuff to the head sent him sprawling. The noise of protesting electronics let him know the fate of his comlink. A controlled tumble and he was back on his feet, looking back and forth between the united front of President and Superhero.

“What do you want, Luthor?” he snarled, considering and discarding plans of attack. He needed to get to the communications console, immediately.

“I’d have thought that was evident.” He replied. Clark nonchalantly concentrated his vision on the console, melting it to slag. Bruce had left the Batwing stationed in the bay. Retreat was the best course of action. Maybe he could bluff his way into the Fortress computer …

“The kryptonite,” he supplied grudgingly, thinking fast, trying to stall them from another attack. There were five routes out of the main deck of the Watchtower; he had compromised on the location of the attack in an effort to subdue Clark as quickly as possible. Now the flaw worked in his favor. He shot up towards the ventilation shaft with a well-placed cable, Clark followed after him like a heeled dog, but before he raised more than half a story, he let the line go, using the momentum to swing himself towards a second floor door, instead. Clark overshot him but Lex didn’t. The shot of the concussion weapon knocked him short of the landing and he fell inelegantly back to the first floor

“The last kryptonite sample on the planet if we want to be precise.” Lex continued, holstering the weapon. Clark had caught up with him and in a moment Bruce was welded to the wall and floor with bits of broken metal around his chest and thighs, pinning his arms and legs. “Clark said he’d given it to you himself, but that what you’d done with it was more of a problem.”

Luthor had known how he’d react, that he’d try to take out Clark first. He had been predictable and produced the one thing that could control Clark as conveniently as if Luthor had walked into the cave and asked nicely.

For the first time he addressed Superman. “Clark. Why? Why this? Why him? Why didn’t you come to us?”

For a moment, Clark looked back at him, the gleam in his eyes halting Bruce’s words. It reminded him uncomfortably of the French guard in the monastery, a look he was more familiar with than he’d like to admit. “We had a chance, Bruce. We were asked to help and you decided not to. ‘The Justice League will not be the military arm of the United States’. It’s not enough, Bruce. Some things are unforgivable.”

“Like the loss of faith in Justice?” Bruce cut back, working slowly on his bonds. Clark should have known better than to leave him with his belt but he wasn’t going to question the one lucky thing to happen during this fiasco.

Clark regarded him silently for a moment. “That’s a joke coming from you. Who’s to say this isn’t Justice?”

Luthor stepped forward, brushing his shoulders against Clark’s companionably. “I did. And now that we’ve said our good byes, I believe it’s time for us to go, Clark.” Lex smiled satisfied. “We look forward to seeing you again, Bruce.”

Just as quickly as it began, he was alone. Bruce gave in to a snarl of anger as he continued to work himself loose. His head collided sickeningly with the wall behind him as the Watchtower unexpectedly accelerated, and dreams of a darker world followed Bruce into deep space.