Post by DocQuantum on Apr 15, 2018 8:10:57 GMT
by Doc Quantum, Christine Nightstar, and Gamma Xmen
Prologue: Old Foe
by Christine Nightstar and Doc Quantum
The JSA Brownstone was abuzz with activity on this cold, snowy day. Most of the elder members were fiddling around in the warmer rooms with whatever projects they had. Kara Zor-L had found a scrapbook from the '50s that she hadn't seen before, and showed it to her fiancée, Dick Grayson. "I don't remember seeing this guy before," said Power Girl, looking at a picture of a cigar-smoking, muscular man in a T-shirt and slacks carrying two bags of money out of a bank, completely impervious to bullets being fired at his back.
"That was Jake Bennetti," said Red Robin with a smile. "The press nicknamed him Bobo, and he was a super-strong, super-tough bank robber who operated throughout the 1950s and early '60s. I never encountered him myself, but I think Mid-Nite and Starman knew him best."
"And why is that?" asked Kara.
"The way I heard it, he got his abilities after exposure to an experimental nerve gas," explained Dick. "Charles did some research on this years back."
"Experimental nerve gas? Why didn't he die from exposure?"
"That's what Charles wanted to know. He was paralyzed for six weeks, give or take, and was on death's door for the first week in a semi-comatose state. He was the only living survivor in a five-mile area."
"So how did it give him powers?" asked Power Girl. "And was it just super-strength?"
"Charles never figured out exactly how, but the powers weren't all that different from yours. Ted measured his strength at the ability to lift about twenty tons, max, but his invulnerability and ability to heal quickly were similar to your own. Bullets and explosives didn't really hurt him, and those that did healed quickly."
"Was he stronger than Hourman?" asked Power Girl.
"Yep," said Red Robin, "and he had better endurance."
Just then, Doctor Mid-Nite entered the Brownstone's sitting room.
"Hey, Doc, do you remember Jake Bennetti?" Dick asked him.
"Of course I do," replied Mid-Nite. "Why do you ask?"
"Do you remember what he was like before he began robbing banks?" Dick said. "As I recall, you treated him for nerve gas exposure during the Korean War."
A wistful look passed over Dr. Charles McNider's face. "That brings me back. I first met him in 1951, during my second tour of duty with the U.S. Army Medical Corps, when they shipped me overseas on special assignment."
Chapter 1: The Blind Surgeon
by Gamma Xmen, Christine Nightstar, and Doc Quantum
Times past -- March, 1951:
Dr. Charles McNider found himself wishing that he hadn't agreed to return to the Army as he kept his eyes straight, wincing every time he heard a bomb drop in the distance. It was a few weeks after the Justice Society of America was forced to disband, and the war in Korea had been going on for the past nine months.
Granted, he thought it odd that the Army had managed to overlook the fact that he was blind when they listed him as a surgeon, but he supposed desperate times called for desperate measures. The U.S. Army needed his medical expertise, so he was back in the Army on a special assignment, once again wearing a uniform of a captain. This situation was very similar to the time, shortly after Pearl Harbor, when he'd been called upon to briefly serve in the Army Medical Corps, Nurse Myra Mason at his side. (*)
[(*) Editor's note: See "The Justice Society Joins the War on Japan," All-Star Comics #11 (June-July, 1942).]
The driver told him, "We're here, Dr. McNider."
"Thank you," he said, smiling slightly. With his special lenses, he'd been able to see the sign himself. Of course, the driver's ignorance was understandable, since he couldn't have known that he was driving a member of the celebrated Justice Society of America, that Dr. Charles McNider was the famed Doctor Mid-Nite.
But then he'd left his costume back in a dark apartment in New York City. Thanks to the disbanding of his team, he wasn't Doctor Mid-Nite anymore. For now he was simply content to be Dr. Charles McNider.
"Good God, Corporal!" said the driver as the jeep stopped, and he gaped at the sentry's appearance. "You're wearing a dress! What's the matter with you, man?"
"Welcome to M*A*S*H Four-Oh-Double-Seven, your driverness and your... blindness?" said the sentry with a grin.
McNider winced at being guilty of pretending to be blind, since his special glasses helped him see clearly. Of course, he still needed to keep that a secret. He raised an eyebrow at the sentry's appearance, as even without the sight afforded him by his special infrared lenses, he could hear the flip-flap in the wind of an Army-issued skirt, as well as smell the hint of perfume. The man was indeed wearing a dress.
The corporal laughed, having caught the doctor wincing. "Hey, I get it! You're wearing sunglasses and just pretending to be blind so you can get out of the Army!"
It was all McNider could do to not to burst out laughing at that. "Yes, uh, Corporal? You... could say that," he said, amused. "I presume you're wearing that woman's dress for the same reason?"
"Yes, sir! Been doing this for months now, though it feels like this war's being going on for years! I don't think it's working. Say, do you think if I started going around naked it would work?"
"Well, Corporal, I'd stick to woman's dresses, if I were you," he replied with a chuckle. "I'm Captain McNider, the surgeon temporarily filling in for Captain Hunnicut." McNider held out the papers in his hands. "Or so they tell me."
"Then you're the guy we've been waiting for, Doc. Our lovely hellhole is straight ahead. Colonel Potter and Major Burns are expecting you."
"Thank you, Corporal...?"
"Klinger. Maxwell Q. Klinger. Call me Maxine, and you get a fat lip. If you want tips on trying to get out of the Army, you can come to me, sir."
"Thank you, Klinger. I... doubt I will," he said, smiling inwardly.
At McNider's signal, the jeep drove on ahead toward the Mobile Army Surgical Hospital camp.
***
Officially they listed me as a M*A*S*H surgeon, and a blind surgeon at that, which raised some eyebrows. I was instructed to say merely that I was there on a brief assignment, as the Army had asked me to go out into the field to train some of the field surgeons in new surgical procedures, given my reputation in medical research.
Of course, the real story is never quite so simple. The real reason I was there was Jake Bennetti. Specifically, the U.S. military wanted to know how Bennetti was still alive after what he'd been through. Shortly after my arrival, I was briefed on all the patients, but the only one I needed to know about was Bennetti. Of course, some of the details I'd already been briefed on, while others I only learned much later on.
Jake Bennetti, born in Opal City to working-class, Italian immigrant parents, was twenty-two years old by the time North Korea invaded South Korea, and a United Nations expeditionary force was sent there to help South Korea against the communist threat. Immediately enlisting in the U.S. Navy, Seaman Bennetti was on his way to Korea by the middle of July.
The ship he served on was supply attack. Bennetti did his best to avoid Captain Howard, who wasn't well-liked by the crew under him. Howard didn't approve of the locals, either, prejudiced against anyone who wasn't a WASP. In fact, he'd arranged all those under his command who didn't fit into his bigoted view of true Americans to the same "disposable" unit, Seaman Bennetti being one of them.
Everyone in the unit knew that Captain Howard didn't like them and had been trying to get them out of his command the fastest way he knew how. By sending the unit on high-risk missions, they would be transferred out of his command, rotated home faster, or dead -- he didn't care which. Despite this, Bennetti's unit was kept alive and intact through their early missions, though they were living on borrowed time.
Finally, Bennetti's unit was on extended coast patrol on the wrong side of the front. Skirmishes with several North Korean units in the area had knocked out their radio, leaving them incommunicado for several days. It was the middle of the night when they heard their bombers flying overhead, dropping their payload right on top of them. Whatever the stuff that came out of the bombs was, it killed everything but the plants.
Seaman Bennetti and the others tried to secure their gas masks and find a safe place from the bombing, but it was too late. His whole unit was dead within hours, and Bennetti was fading fast even as he reached the dinghy that would bring him back to his ship.
Still, nerve gas was one thing. A floating mine was another. Bennetti, paddling over the water in near-zero light, ended up passing right over a floating mine, which exploded beneath him.
Hours later, Seaman Bennetti was found washed ashore. He'd been left completely unharmed by the explosion, and awoke hours later in Seoul with no memory of what had happened to him, his legs merely paralyzed instead of pulverized. The doctors told him that his entire unit had been killed, and that he was the only survivor, but they didn't tell him how.
At a hearing, Seaman Bennetti was told that all Allied units had been ordered to clear the area before the bombing, an order that never reached his unit as their radio was out. Bennetti was never told that he'd been exposed to a top secret, experimental nerve gas out of which he was the only survivor in an area containing three hundred enemy soldiers along with several civilians and countless animals. All he was told was that he'd triggered a floating mine that had miraculously failed to kill him, but had paralyzed his legs. Nobody had expected him to survive.
Seaman Bennetti remained blissfully unaware of the reason for his tough skin, and to my knowledge never did learn the truth. Unknown to Bennetti, the Navy was convinced the nerve gas had something to do with it, but didn't know why.
All Bennetti seemed concerned about at first was that he never got to thank the G.I. that brought him back to Seoul, as the only thing he remembered was that a soldier who looked like he was wearing metal armor over his skin and under his uniform was the one who found him. But whenever he asked about him, he was always told he didn't have the security clearance to talk to him.
I'd heard rumors about a robotic G.I. that was used in the last war, and if they'd had the ability to make one in the 1940s, and were still hush-hush about it into the '50s, that probably meant the project was still active. Sure enough, as Diana -- our mutual source at Military Intelligence -- told me sometime later, the soldier who'd discovered Bennetti was called JAKE 3, and he -- or it -- was the latest version of the G.I. Robots that were first deployed in World War II. (*)
[(*) Editor's note: Although a version of this character exists on Earth-Two, the original character appears on Earth-One, as seen in "My Buddy, the Robot," Weird War Tales #101 (July, 1981).]
The Navy, paranoid and fearful that reports of their experimental and very illegal nerve gas might reach the press, transferred Seaman Bennetti to a random U.S. Army M*A*S*H unit and told the commanding officer there only the barest of details about his condition. A general who remembered me from my brief military service in the last war recommended that I be summoned to discover what their own medical experts could not.
Of course, I was also sworn to secrecy. Thus, during my time with the M*A*S*H unit, I couldn't reveal the real reason I'd been sent there, and instead play along with the idea that the Army was desperate enough to send them a blind surgeon.
***
Dr. Charles McNider stepped out of the jeep and ordered the driver to get his bags out. He kept his eyes straight, but saw a young corporal rushing to greet him.
"Are you the temporary surgeon we've been waiting--?" the corporal began, halting in mid-sentence as he widened his eyes. "Holy smokes! You're blind! The Army sent us a blind surgeon!"
McNider smiled at the boy's innocence. "I'm Captain McNider. I'm here on a special assignment. I've been sent to assist in surgery as an advisor and to brief everyone on new medical techniques."
"Oh!" said the corporal. "Yes, sir! Come on, sir! Colonel Potter's office is this way!" He ran to the door, not realizing that McNider wasn't following him at all, but just stood there.
The corporal turned back, almost forgetting that he was blind, and took Dr. McNider by the arm. "Sorry, sir. I'm Corporal Walter O'Reilly. But everyone calls me Radar."
"Why Radar?" McNider asked.
Radar began answering before he could finish asking the question. "Because I sort of know what's going to happen before it happens."
He took Dr. McNider to Potter's office, where the elderly colonel was toasting as usual as an excuse to drink, with a dark-haired man resting his feet on Potter's desk.
Seeing McNider, Potter stood up. "Ah, you must be the..." He spotted the cane in McNider's hand. "...surgeon?"
"Uh, yes, sir. I'm Captain McNider. I'm here to temporarily fill in for Captain Hunnicut."
"Uh, right, Captain. Radar, what in Sam Hill is goin' on?"
Before Radar could answer, the dark-haired surgeon sarcastically answered, "Looks like the Army's wisdom at its work. They probably thought a blind guy could do better at surgery than a guy who can see."
Probably not, but a blind man who can see in the darkness could do as well, McNider thought to himself, disliking this man's attitude.
Potter glared at the other surgeon. "Shut it, Pierce. At least he's here while Hunnicut is still out of action." He turned back to McNider. "This is my chief surgeon with a jackass' mouth, Captain Benjamin Franklin Pierce."
Pierce stood up and took McNider's hand. "Call me Hawkeye. And I resent that jackass remark, Colonel. I happen to have the mouth of a mare."
"Well, Captain Pierce, I'm sure we'll work together fine. What is wrong with Captain Hunnicut, by the way? I'm told he had taken ill."
"You're told right, McNider," Potter replied. "Seems he got a bad case of the flu."
"Well, if you'd show me to my quarters, Colonel, I'm sure I'll be prepared."
"All right, McNider," Potter said with a nod. "Radar--"
"I'll take him to the VIP tent," Radar answered as he grabbed McNider's arm and led him out even as Potter unnecessarily finished ordering him to take him to the VIP tent.
Potter sighed. "One of these days, I'll beat that boy to the punch."
Hawkeye leaned forward. "Colonel, are they crazier than Frank? Sending a blind guy to replace B.J.?"
Colonel Potter held up a hand before Pierce's rant could get out of control. "Ease up, Pierce. He ain't going in the O.R., unless he's here to advise. Otherwise, he'll be here to take some weight off our shoulders, and that'll be something."
"Yeah, but what if we need another surgeon?"
Potter leaned forward until he was face to face with Hawkeye. "Then let's hope that man can do surgery blind. If you're that worried, I'll have Radar call I Corps and get the lowdown on why we have a blind surgeon."
"I'm telling you, Colonel, there's something strange about that guy." He rolled his eyes. "Good Lord, I must be insane. I sound like Frank Burns!"
***
My time with the M*A*S*H unit lasted only for two weeks, giving Captain Hunnicut enough time to recover from the flu. During that time I accompanied the doctors and nurses on their daily rounds, lectured the doctors on new medical procedures every evening, and even assisted with surgery, though only as an advisor. All the while, I was particularly interested in Seaman Jake Bennetti's progress, though I took great pains not to show him any particular preference.
Finally, upon Hunnicut's return, I arranged for Seaman Jake Bennetti to be given a medical discharge, then transferred with me back to the States, where I was better equipped to study his condition and bring him to full recovery. To tell you the truth, I was relieved to get out of that warzone as soon as possible, though I often wondered what became of that particular M*A*S*H crew, and what things would have been like had I remained there in earnest.
Of course, Bennetti only knew that I'd been tasked to take over the treatment of his paralysis, and never knew that my primary task was discovering how an experimental nerve gas could make Bennetti invulnerable enough to withstand an explosion.
The paralysis lasted for about three more weeks, before Bennetti could start walking again. It took him a few more weeks to get used to being able to walk once more, but he was grateful, as he demonstrated when he had far surpassed his previous physical peak.
***
May, 1951:
"Doc, how can I repay you for this?" said Jake Bennetti, standing in Dr. Charles McNider's New York City office.
"Listen to what I have to say, and carefully consider it before you ask that question," replied Dr. McNider. "Something about your metabolism caused your nervous system to shut down, then restart slowly when you hit that mine. It was as if some... unknown element in your body was all that was needed to make you superhuman. Your body is repairing itself at a faster rate than I've ever seen. No, repairing isn't the right word. Your tissue is regenerating so much that it's an exact copy of what your undamaged tissue would be in place of your damaged tissue."
Bennetti looked confused. "What does that mean?"
"I'm not done yet," continued McNider. "Other parts of that unknown element, when it reacted with your metabolism, enhanced your bone and muscle structure. It also made you physically stronger."
"Yeah, and...?"
"That means you are stronger and faster, and heal more completely than any normal human should. We need to measure your limits, but if what I suspect is true, you're most likely bulletproof as well."
Jake Bennetti chuckled. "You mean ta tell me I'm like that Superman cat?"
"Well, not exactly," Dr. McNider said with a smile, "but you are similar to what I surmise a descendant of his would be after several generations of breeding with humans."
"So... like Hourman, then?" suggested Bennetti.
"I suppose, though you aren't subject to the same time limit from the pills," Dr. McNider said. "But there's something you share with both men that could benefit not only you, but the world."
Bennetti looked at him from the corner of his eye, wondering just why Dr. Charles McNider was so familiar with these things, let alone why he cared about them. Yes, he was a famous medical scientist and crime author with ties to the U.S. government, but what if there was something more to his doctor than he knew?
Chapter 2: The Bad Seed
by Doc Quantum and Christine Nightstar
Seaman Jake Bennetti was definitely brave, and he seemed like a good kid at the time. Unfortunately, I never did figure out why that nerve gas didn't kill him. I even called in Rex Tyler to help me break down the components of that stuff, since he had a high-level security clearance of his own for his government work at Bannermain Chemical, and we still didn't have a clue about why. The only thing I could guess was that he'd been protected by some kind of beneficial mutation, which was tantamount to saying I just didn't know.
All of this took a major toll on Bennetti, who'd been paralyzed for so long he was ecstatic not only to be able to walk again, but now possessed super-strength and invulnerability. After he'd fully recovered, I sent him to see Ted Grant for physical therapy, and suggested to Ted that he train Bennetti to be a super-hero. After all, by the early 1950s only a small handful of heroes were left, and I'd thought it was time that we saw a few new heroes for a new era. You might say I was a poor judge of character, given what he ended up becoming, but after hearing what he's been up to more recently, I may have been right all along.
Jake Bennetti knew only that famed prizefighter Ted Grant was an acquaintance of mine, and never seemed to guess that we shared mutually kept secrets as well. And if Bennetti thought that the training he'd gone through in bootcamp was tough, that was a cakewalk compared to what Ted had him doing.
Ted put Bennetti through all kinds of exercises designed to maximize his agility, strength, and endurance. He wasn't the only one, of course; even back then Ted was training a few other proteges, most of whom went on to become successful boxers in their own merit.
When I asked him how things were going later on, Ted told me that Bennetti particularly excelled in unconventional sparring. He had tried and failed to teach Bennetti a few martial arts, only for him to fall back on boxing as his primary style of hand-to-hand combat.
After three months of the most intensive, tortuous, brutal training Bennetti thought he'd ever go through, Ted told him he was ready to do almost anything he wanted, and suggested he'd make a great super-hero. When Ted asked him if he had any sort of idea of what to call himself, Bennetti told him he only wanted to be known as Jake Bennetti, and nothing else. At that, they shook hands and parted ways.
Ted called me that night, proud of the work he'd done and sure that, soon enough, Bennetti would be making headlines alongside Superman, Johnny Quick, and Dynaman as the newest and toughest hero on the scene. Of course, we now know things turned out very differently.
As I later found out, Jake Bennetti did give his future some thought, but decided after a fairly quick deliberation that being a hero just wasn't for him.
After all, the Justice Society of America had been forced into retirement under great pressure of the House Un-American Activities Committee, which had accused us of being communists or worse because we refused to reveal our identities to the public. Several prominent individuals, both in the press and the public eye, questioned how anyone could make such accusations about a group of heroes who had fought so hard and valiantly for the American way in the war just six years earlier.
But J. Edgar Hoover, an honorary JSA member since 1940, stated that he would neither support nor hinder any such investigations into the Justice Society, which was not officially a government agency, even if several members had various levels of association with law enforcement. If any JSA members were implicated in official investigations, it was the duty of the FBI to investigate them, of course, but the FBI would not participate in any kind of persecution of the Justice Society. Of course, with a few exceptions, all of us decided to go into retirement, anyway.
That left the field wide open for all the super-powered and costumed criminals to take advantage of our absence. Anyone who wanted to be a hero after 1951 would have to be in it for the long haul, because they'd have been outnumbered by far.
And so, instead of being the hero that Ted and I hoped he'd become, Jake Bennetti would use his strength and toughness to benefit himself and only himself, by robbing banks. Beginning in New York City, he would soon make his way all across our large nation, which was almost completely unprepared for someone with his great strength and power.
***
September, 1951:
Jake Bennetti began robbing banks in New York City, and encountered hardly any real opposition except for bank guards and the police, who began referring to him as Bobo, something that particularly annoyed him. Of course, that ensured that the nickname continued to spread, until the papers began exclusively calling him Bobo wherever and whenever he struck.
Unlike many other super-powered criminals, Bobo Bennetti wouldn't typically wade into a situation with fists flying, though he was willing to use his full strength to do so if necessary. He tended to give each situation he found himself in some thought, and liked to take things slow, use confusion, and take advantage of his foes' mistakes. Despite the infamy he'd gained by robbing banks, Bobo still wasn't considered one of the most wanted criminals by the police, who were more focused on the super-crooks of the previous decade. Bobo was seen as more of a super-powered nuisance than a mastermind like Alexei Luthor or a madman like the Joker. He still floated under the radar, and was taking great advantage of his lesser-known status. Of course, it helped that Bobo had never been known to deliberately hurt civilians, and had only injured but never killed those officers of the law who'd been foolish enough to try arresting or killing him.
It wasn't long before Bobo not only ran into his first costumed hero, Doctor Mid-Nite, but also his first costumed villain. This is the way it happened.
The Icicle was a costumed criminal with a freeze-gun who had tangled with Green Lantern a few times in the previous decade, both solo and as a member of the Injustice Society of the World when they fought the Justice Society of America.
It turned out that the Icicle and Bobo Bennetti were planning to target the same bank on the same day, and neither the Icicle nor Bobo were willing to back down and let the other have the loot for himself.
Dr. Charles McNider, feeling a deep sense of regret every time Jake Bennetti made a headline, had been keeping a close ear on his sources in the criminal grapevine. That was how he learned that both the Icicle and Bobo were planning their heists for the same bank on the same day, and weren't being too careful about keeping their plans a secret from the police, either. Given the lack of costumed heroes around in those days, both super-criminals were arrogant enough to believe that nobody could stop them, except perhaps the other. They would soon discover otherwise, for this event would prompt Doctor Mid-Nite to don his costume again for the first time since the JSA's disbanding, something he would continue to do on occasion for the next twelve years until he and his fellow JSAers officially came out of retirement in 1963. But that was still well in the future, and for some time Dr. McNider would remain somewhat apprehensive about crime-fighting out in the open again after Congress had publicly smeared the Justice Society's good name.
On the day of the planned bank heist, the Icicle showed up in the morning some ten minutes after the bank opened for the day, and he brought a gang of thugs with him. Unfortunately, as the Icicle soon learned, he wasn't the first one there.
Somehow, Bobo Bennetti had managed to slowly and meticulously gain entry to the bank through an upper floor before dawn, and was in a position to start picking off the gang one by one.
By the time the Icicle began firing his freeze gun, Bobo had already taken out almost his entire gang quickly and quietly enough to leave the super-villain without support. Bobo even took the time to throw furniture in the path of the rays so that no innocent bystanders could be frozen, even as he came closer and closer to his rival. Terrified, and realizing that he was no match for the much younger and stronger Bobo Bennetti, the Icicle made good his escape. Bobo even chased after him as well as he could to make sure his rival was really gone.
Doctor Mid-Nite, hearing that the Icicle's attempt to rob a bank had been stopped by none other than Bobo Bennetti, knew that Bobo would return to the bank to rob it properly himself, even if the police assumed he'd given up. Thus he decided to lay in wait at the bank much like Bobo had done earlier.
Thus, when Bobo turned up that afternoon and started taking out the guards with one sledgehammer-like punch after another, Doctor Mid-Nite confronted his foe. As his doctor, Charles McNider felt responsible for letting his former patient fall into a life of crime, though he knew he really couldn't have done anything more to steer him in the right direction. Bennetti had made his choice.
"Bennetti, give this up now!" said Mid-Nite.
Bobo Bennetti didn't know anything about Doctor Mid-Nite except that he'd been one of the members of the Justice Society of America who had quit the mystery-man game rather than reveal his secret identity to the world. Doctor Mid-Nite was supposed to be retired, and yet here he was, the first costumed hero Bobo ever saw up close.
"Well, well, well," said Bennetti, rubbing his chin in amusement. "You're that Doc Mid-Nite guy, ain'tcha? I was wonderin' when one of you JSA cats was gonna try to tussle with me."
A moment later, he saw absolutely nothing as Mid-Nite threw a few blackout bombs at the ground, and pitch-black gas began filling the air, blinding him. "What the--?!"
Realizing what Mid-Nite was doing, Bobo used some of his military training to keep himself from becoming a target, and closed his eyes instead of striving in vain to see through the darkness. He planned to cut off the hero. "Not gonna stop me that easy, Doc."
Doctor Mid-Nite wasn't one to use weapons that often, but he grew concerned when he saw that Bobo wasn't about to let the blackout bombs stop him from bowling over anyone in his path in order to escape the bank with the loot. He's just going to smash his way out of here with the money, Mid-Nite realized. Unless...
Swooping below Bobo's ham-like fists, Doctor Mid-Nite grabbed a pair of scissors from a nearby desk and used them to slice open the cash bags as Bobo smashed his way out through the dark cloud.
Bobo had thus been forced to rush out of the bank with nothing to show for it but two empty bags, which he dropped to the ground in disgust. "Clever, Doc. You cost me my loot. But you still don't got me."
Unfortunately for Mid-Nite, Bobo for all his honor still wasn't above taking a hostage, and he unexpectedly grabbed a beautiful blonde woman from the crowd of onlookers.
"Come 'ere, doll," he said, hauling her over his shoulder toward his convertible. "Keep me company for a few minutes, won'tcha? And don't worry -- I'd never hurt a real looker like you."
The blonde seemed to be in shock as Bobo easily placed her in the passenger seat as if she weighed nothing, then drove off as if they were on a date. Having been retired for a few months by that time, Mid-Nite wasn't prepared to deal with a hostage situation, so he let up the pressure and allowed Bobo to escape with the blonde. He could only hope that Jake Bennetti wasn't the type of man to hurt an innocent woman.
Still, he wasn't done with Bobo by a long shot, for he had already placed a tracking device on Bobo's getaway car in the event that he managed to make such an escape. And he would rescue that female hostage no matter what it might take.
After making a quick stop at his office to pick up some equipment, Doctor Mid-Nite followed the tracking signal to where Bobo had dumped it, and started a slow search from there. Around midnight he finally found Bobo's hideout, an abandoned warehouse.
From the outside of the warehouse, Mid-Nite couldn't spot any immediate threats. But appearances were deceiving, so he took the utmost care as he made his way into the place as silently as possible.
Unlike other super-crooks such as the Icicle, Bobo Bennetti always worked alone, so there were no guards around to tip him off. Mid-Nite had just finished searching the hideout in vain for any trace of the blonde woman by the time that Bobo finally discovered his presence. He had doffed his jacket and shirt and was wearing only a white undershirt as he wiped grease from his hands, having been working on his convertible. A trail of cigarette smoke was highlighted by the light fixture above.
"Where's the girl, Bennetti?" demanded Doctor Mid-Nite as his foe glanced over at him and grinned.
"You just don't know when to quit, do ya, Doc?" said Bobo. The invulnerable bank robber then took one last drag on his cigarette, snuffed it out in his palm, then lunged toward Mid-Nite.
Bobo Bennetti's steely fist could smash through armor plating like butter, and Mid-Nite had seen him use his super-strength effectively. He didn't know the limits of Bobo's invulnerability, but he wasn't foolish enough to try to test him in hand-to-hand combat. Mid-Nite did, however, realize that he had to stop Bobo before he could get within grabbing distance, or he was finished. The best way to neutralize Bobo was by using a device that he had been working on for a few years, one which he'd been trying to miniaturize ever since he'd discovered how effective it was against powerful foes.
Unfortunately, Doctor Mid-Nite's cryotuber was still too large and heavy to use as a hand-held weapon, so he'd been forced to place his original prototype cryotuber -- the size of a small box -- on a nearby crate until his foe was in the right position to use it against him. This device, when activated, emitted a ray that paralyzed the nervous system of anyone in its path; in fact, in that way it was much like nerve gas, Mid-Nite was forced to admit, something that should be able to paralyze even an invulnerable foe like Jake Bennetti. (*)
[(*) Editor's note: See The Brave and the Bold: Doctor Mid-Nite and the Guardian: Times Past, 1947: Shedding Some Light.]
But first, Mid-Nite threw another blackout bomb to give himself the advantage in this abandoned warehouse.
"We've already played that record, don'tcha remember, Doc?" laughed Bobo. "That black smoke may've cost me my loot before, but it sure don't stop me from knockin' your lights out!"
Doctor Mid-Nite was one of the more intellectual mystery-men of his day, but he had never been above taunting his foes as he sparred with him. He needed to maneuver Bennetti into the right position, and the only way to do that was to keep him from suspecting what he was doing. He needed to make Bobo angry.
"I can see why the papers call you Bobo," said Mid-Nite, slowly backing up as he watched his foe approach. "That's a fitting name for a clown, after all."
Bennetti lunged forward suddenly, and Mid-Nite just barely managed to stay just ahead of where Bobo was swinging his fist.
"Oh, I'm not saying you belong in the circus, of course," taunted Mid-Nite. "You'd need some talent for that."
"You won't be so mouthy once I get my hands on you, Doc," growled Bobo, taking a couple more swings with his huge fists.
"That's not what I'm worried about," replied Mid-Nite. "I know you could easily kill me with one blow if given the chance. I'd just find it awfully embarrassing to be taken out by a two-bit blockhead who calls himself Bobo!"
"I never called myself that, you lousy--!" growled Bennetti.
The taunting had obviously started to work, as Bobo had stopped thinking with his head and was mad enough to run carelessly after the hero in the dark. Finally, when Bobo was just where Mid-Nite wanted him, he flipped the switch on his cryotuber.
The effect was immediate. As Mid-Nite peered into the darkness, he could see that Bobo Bennetti had stopped walking and was now struggling with every muscle in his body to just take one step forward. Veins were popping all over his forehead, biceps, and chest, and he was gritting his teeth. His very body, which had been invulnerable to everything else, was working against him thanks to the cryotuber.
"AAA-AAA-AAARGH!"
Unfortunately, it wasn't working quickly enough, and Bobo managed with great difficulty to reach out and grab a support beam, ostensibly to steady himself. But instead he used his great, Samson-like strength to push against it again and again, until the ceiling above them started to break apart.
Doctor Mid-Nite realized he was in a bind when Bobo began to bring the floor above them down on his head, causing a broken light fixture to fall upon the cryotuber, smashing it and cracking its casing, rendering it ineffective.
Blast it all! he inwardly cursed. Mid-Nite attempted to leap out of the way, but he, too, was struck by a falling object and immediately knocked unconscious.
***
Hours later, Doctor Mid-Nite awoke with a pounding headache in the midst of rubble as the sun's rays shone through the shattered windows above. He was chagrined to realize that Bobo Bennetti had escaped, but apparently only after ensuring that Mid-Nite wasn't fatally injured.
And that wasn't all, Dr. Charles McNider realized as he put a hand to his head and felt his exposed blond hair instead of the dark green cowl he wore as Mid-Nite. He still had his goggles on, but the right lens had been smashed. Still, it was evident that Jake Bennetti had discovered Doctor Mid-Nite's secret -- that he was really Charles McNider, Bennetti's former doctor.
Lifting himself out of the debris, McNider stood and began patting himself all over to ensure that he had no serious injuries. Finding himself relatively unscathed except for the goose egg on his head and lacerations from the shattered lens below his right eye, McNider found a note stuffed into his belt, wrapped around a wad of bills. He unwrapped it and read it with his good left eye.
Charles McNider chuckled. If there was one thing about Bennetti that he could appreciate, it was his sense of humor. He was certain he would face Bobo Bennetti again sooner or later, but he had no worries that his former patient would hold a grudge.
Still, McNider was motivated now more than ever to finally figure out how to make his cryotuber into a handheld weapon. That was, of course, if he could salvage the remains of his damaged prototype.
Epilogue: New Gig
by Doc Quantum
"And that was my first encounter with Bobo Bennetti," said Doctor Mid-Nite. "I faced him a few more times after that, but I was never again forced to rely on his mercy. That would have been pushing things a bit too much, I think."
"What happened to his hostage?" asked Power Girl.
"Oh, she was fine," replied Mid-Nite. "After fleeing the scene, Bobo dropped her off on a street corner on the outskirts of town before heading to his hideout. From her description of the incident, she nearly sounded smitten with the charming crook."
"I remember he fought Starman a few times, too, and Green Lantern," added Red Robin.
"That's right. In fact, Starman was the first to put him in jail," explained Mid-Nite. "That happened in 1952, more than a year after I fought him that first time. He never remained in jail for long, though. Most jails weren't equipped to keep him locked up for good, and as I explained earlier, he was never seen as a major level threat. Of course, that changed in 1965, when he killed his wife and finally gave himself up."
"Right, right, I remember that," replied Dick Grayson. "It was just about that time that I was preparing myself for a solo career as Robin, so I'd brushed up on all the Batcave's existing crime files before exhaustively updating them. His wife had been cheating on him, wasn't she? And Bobo caught her in the act. He ended up killing them both in a crime of passion, only to meekly surrender to the Opal City police."
"He was in prison for years after that," continued Mid-Nite. "Fifteen years, if I recall correctly. That reminds me... I did see him again shortly after he got out of jail. It was 1980, or '81. He visited my office, wanting a check-up as if he were just a regular patient. He paid in cash."
"You're kidding!" said Power Girl. "What did he say to you?"
"Not much," said McNider. "Neither of us acknowledged the past at all, in fact. I gave him a check-up just as he'd asked for, and with a clean bill of health I sent him on his way."
"Do you remember what he did after that?" Kara Zor-L asked.
"You mean, did he ever rob another bank?" asked McNider. "Well, he tried. Old habits die hard, you know. Only thing is, before he got very far, a gang of bank robbers showed up calling themselves the Daredevils. You'd remember the original group of Daredevils from the '40s, Dick."
"Yep," replied Red Robin. "They originally called themselves the Three Devils." (*)
[(*) Editor's note: See "The Case of the Three Devils," Detective Comics #50 (April, 1941).]
"That was when Bobo met the Star-Spangled Kid, who saw something in Jake Bennetti that I'd seen years earlier -- the potential to be a good man. Together, the Kid and Bobo stopped the Daredevils from robbing the bank."
"So he became a hero after all," said Power Girl.
"In a way, I guess he did," replied Charles McNider. "Anyway, he stopped robbing banks for good. Instead, he got a job as a security guard with Pinkerton, and made a career out of keeping banks safe instead of robbing them. I believe he and Sylvester Pemberton remain friends to this day, and through him Starman became his friend as well. I believe Ted Knight has even invited him over for Christmas dinner a few times."
"Wow!" said Kara. "And is Bobo still working for Pinkerton? He must be getting on in years... uh, no offense."
"None taken," Mid-Nite said with a chuckle. "Actually, despite having a few wrinkles and some white hair, he's just as spry as ever."
"So many of you old guys still are," laughed Kara. "There's still one thing I don't understand, Doc. With the way you described him before the bank robbery, it isn't really clear why Jake went in for crime in the first place. Correct me if I'm wrong, but he seemed like a decent guy who, while he might not be cut out for being a public hero like us, also doesn't seem like a crook. Have you ever figured out why he made the decision he did?"
Doctor Mid-Nite was nodding as he listened to Power Girl's question. Before replying, he gave it a moment's thought. "Well, I later asked Jake about that, and whenever it came to the subject, he laughed and said he robbed his first bank because he needed some quick dough for a tip he got at the track."
"Really?" Kara replied with a frown. "I find that hard to believe."
"Agreed," said Red Robin. "It sounds like he just doesn't like to talk about it. Did you ever find anything more about why he made that fateful bad decision?"
"I did," replied Mid-Nite. "Jake tried to play it off as nothing, but there was an experience he had back at that M*A*S*H unit before my arrival that seemed to have affected him a lot more than he liked to let on. He told me about it not long after we first met in Korea, and I heard another side of the story from Hawkeye -- er, Captain Pierce -- but I didn't think about it too much until after he'd started robbing banks."
***
The M*A*S*H unit was buzzing with activity, a chaotic symphony of urgent voices, clattering equipment, and the occasional agonized cry of a wounded soldier. Medical personnel rushed from one patient to another, trying their best to handle the influx of casualties. Amidst the bedridden soldiers, one man stood out -- Jake Bennetti, a tough-talking Navy seaman with a bandaged arm and a scowl that could stop a tank.
Captain Benjamin Franklin "Hawkeye" Pierce, the charismatic and cynical surgeon, strolled over to Jake's bed, a mischievous grin dancing on his face.
"Hawkeye! Fancy seeing you here," Jake grumbled, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Thought this place would have higher standards."
Hawkeye chuckled, his eyes scanning the bustling tent. "Well, well, well! Welcome to the 4077th, Jake. Heard you survived quite the explosion out there."
Jake's scowl deepened. "Yeah, you could say that! Survived a floating mine, they tell me. Impervious, they say."
Hawkeye observed the other medical personnel struggling to insert an IV into Jake's arm, a wry smile playing on his lips. "Impervious, eh? Tell me, Jake, are you as bulletproof as you are hard to handle?"
Jake cocked an eyebrow, daring Hawkeye to try something. "Only one way to find out, Doc."
Hawkeye smirked, grabbing a needle and making a show of attempting to pierce Jake's skin. But no matter how hard he tried, the needle bent upon contact.
"Guess they don't make needles like they used to, huh?" Hawkeye mocked, unable to hide his amusement.
Jake chuckled, revealing a hint of pride. "Guess not. Must be all that traditional Korean acupuncture I've been practicing," he said with a chuckle.
Before the banter could continue, Major Frank Burns stormed into the tent, his face red with fury.
"What is going on here?! Why isn't this man properly restrained?" Frank yelled, his voice booming.
Hawkeye's smirk grew wider. "Oh, Frank, meet our newest addition -- Jake Bennetti, the man who defied the floating mine! Impervious, if you will."
Frank's disbelief was palpable. "Impervious to an exploding mine? That's preposterous! No man can be impervious!"
Jake deadpanned, his eyes locked with Frank's. "Well, Frank, looks like I just broke the mold." Making a show of flexing his arm, showing off a substantial bicep, Jake then displayed a brief flash of uncommon strength when he gripped the metal frame of the bed and easily pinched it, causing Frank to take a step back in concern.
"What was that? Are you one of those communist agents in the so-called 'Justice' Society, conspiring against us?" Frank asked, suspicion lining his voice.
Hawkeye and Jake exchanged amused glances. "Frank, believe me, Jake here couldn't conspire his way out of a paper bag even if he tried," Hawkeye laughed. "Besides, he's the hero of the hour, surviving a mine explosion!"
Jake leaned back in his bed, a glimmer of exhaustion in his eyes. "Being a hero ain't all it's cracked up to be, Doc. Look where it got us."
Hawkeye's face softened, the chaos around them momentarily forgotten. "You've got a point there, Jake. But sometimes, heroes are made, whether we like it or not."
Jake looked contemplative, his tough exterior cracking ever so slightly. "Maybe, Doc. But for now, I'll settle for just looking out for myself."
Their conversation was abruptly interrupted by the arrival of a wounded soldier on a stretcher, hastily brought in by the medical team. Hawkeye and Jake immediately snapped back into their roles, rushing over to attend to the new patient.
Hawkeye patted Jake on the shoulder as they hurried away. "Just remember, Jake, it's not always about being a hero. Sometimes, it's just about doing what's right."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Jake said, rolling his eyes as a hint of a smile played on his lips, as the conversation ended amidst the flurry of action around them.
***
"Take that for what you will," continued Doctor Mid-Nite. "Personally, I think Frank Burns might have soured Jake on the idea of ever becoming a hero at the very moment when just a thing started to seem possible. Who knows? If I'd been there earlier, he might never have decided to rob that first bank after all. Thankfully, he's on the side of the angels now, and he's still active. He's moved on to something else entirely, in fact. I believe you'd call it paranormal investigations."
"As I recall, he helped clean up the few remaining vampire nests in New York City earlier this year," added Dick. "Nobody calls him Bobo any longer."
"I can see why," replied Kara.
"They call him the Goon instead," continued Dick. (*)
[(*) Editor's note: See Secret Origins: The Goon.]
"Ugh. Really?" said Kara, crinkling her nose. "Somehow that sounds worse."
"Bennetti, at least, prefers it," McNider said with a shrug. "To him it's a code name, nothing more. And in his line of business, code names save lives."
"What do you mean by that?" asked Kara.
"Jake Bennetti, former bank robber and convict, is now a special agent of the FBI," explained Doctor Mid-Nite. "You didn't hear that from me, and don't ask me how they managed to make that work, but rumor has it Starman's old FBI contact, Woodley Allen, managed to pull a few strings to get him his new gig."
"I hear he's doing well tackling weird cases, too," added Red Robin. "Being impervious to anything magical, he's even got an advantage over you in some ways, Kara. It certainly makes me glad that he's out there fighting vampires and werewolves instead of you, given your peculiar Kryptonian vulnerability to magic."
"Yeah, yeah," said Power Girl, rolling her eyes. "Why do you think I hate magic so much? Every time Yellow Peri shows up, I wish I could just pawn her off on Doctor Fate or the Spectre." (*)
[(*) Editor's note: See Power Girl: Cosmic Balancing Act.]
"Next time she appears, you should call Jake Bennetti," said Mid-Nite with a wink. "After one visit from the Goon, she'll never bother you again."
The End
Prologue: Old Foe
by Christine Nightstar and Doc Quantum
The JSA Brownstone was abuzz with activity on this cold, snowy day. Most of the elder members were fiddling around in the warmer rooms with whatever projects they had. Kara Zor-L had found a scrapbook from the '50s that she hadn't seen before, and showed it to her fiancée, Dick Grayson. "I don't remember seeing this guy before," said Power Girl, looking at a picture of a cigar-smoking, muscular man in a T-shirt and slacks carrying two bags of money out of a bank, completely impervious to bullets being fired at his back.
"That was Jake Bennetti," said Red Robin with a smile. "The press nicknamed him Bobo, and he was a super-strong, super-tough bank robber who operated throughout the 1950s and early '60s. I never encountered him myself, but I think Mid-Nite and Starman knew him best."
"And why is that?" asked Kara.
"The way I heard it, he got his abilities after exposure to an experimental nerve gas," explained Dick. "Charles did some research on this years back."
"Experimental nerve gas? Why didn't he die from exposure?"
"That's what Charles wanted to know. He was paralyzed for six weeks, give or take, and was on death's door for the first week in a semi-comatose state. He was the only living survivor in a five-mile area."
"So how did it give him powers?" asked Power Girl. "And was it just super-strength?"
"Charles never figured out exactly how, but the powers weren't all that different from yours. Ted measured his strength at the ability to lift about twenty tons, max, but his invulnerability and ability to heal quickly were similar to your own. Bullets and explosives didn't really hurt him, and those that did healed quickly."
"Was he stronger than Hourman?" asked Power Girl.
"Yep," said Red Robin, "and he had better endurance."
Just then, Doctor Mid-Nite entered the Brownstone's sitting room.
"Hey, Doc, do you remember Jake Bennetti?" Dick asked him.
"Of course I do," replied Mid-Nite. "Why do you ask?"
"Do you remember what he was like before he began robbing banks?" Dick said. "As I recall, you treated him for nerve gas exposure during the Korean War."
A wistful look passed over Dr. Charles McNider's face. "That brings me back. I first met him in 1951, during my second tour of duty with the U.S. Army Medical Corps, when they shipped me overseas on special assignment."
Chapter 1: The Blind Surgeon
by Gamma Xmen, Christine Nightstar, and Doc Quantum
Times past -- March, 1951:
Dr. Charles McNider found himself wishing that he hadn't agreed to return to the Army as he kept his eyes straight, wincing every time he heard a bomb drop in the distance. It was a few weeks after the Justice Society of America was forced to disband, and the war in Korea had been going on for the past nine months.
Granted, he thought it odd that the Army had managed to overlook the fact that he was blind when they listed him as a surgeon, but he supposed desperate times called for desperate measures. The U.S. Army needed his medical expertise, so he was back in the Army on a special assignment, once again wearing a uniform of a captain. This situation was very similar to the time, shortly after Pearl Harbor, when he'd been called upon to briefly serve in the Army Medical Corps, Nurse Myra Mason at his side. (*)
[(*) Editor's note: See "The Justice Society Joins the War on Japan," All-Star Comics #11 (June-July, 1942).]
The driver told him, "We're here, Dr. McNider."
"Thank you," he said, smiling slightly. With his special lenses, he'd been able to see the sign himself. Of course, the driver's ignorance was understandable, since he couldn't have known that he was driving a member of the celebrated Justice Society of America, that Dr. Charles McNider was the famed Doctor Mid-Nite.
But then he'd left his costume back in a dark apartment in New York City. Thanks to the disbanding of his team, he wasn't Doctor Mid-Nite anymore. For now he was simply content to be Dr. Charles McNider.
"Good God, Corporal!" said the driver as the jeep stopped, and he gaped at the sentry's appearance. "You're wearing a dress! What's the matter with you, man?"
"Welcome to M*A*S*H Four-Oh-Double-Seven, your driverness and your... blindness?" said the sentry with a grin.
McNider winced at being guilty of pretending to be blind, since his special glasses helped him see clearly. Of course, he still needed to keep that a secret. He raised an eyebrow at the sentry's appearance, as even without the sight afforded him by his special infrared lenses, he could hear the flip-flap in the wind of an Army-issued skirt, as well as smell the hint of perfume. The man was indeed wearing a dress.
The corporal laughed, having caught the doctor wincing. "Hey, I get it! You're wearing sunglasses and just pretending to be blind so you can get out of the Army!"
It was all McNider could do to not to burst out laughing at that. "Yes, uh, Corporal? You... could say that," he said, amused. "I presume you're wearing that woman's dress for the same reason?"
"Yes, sir! Been doing this for months now, though it feels like this war's being going on for years! I don't think it's working. Say, do you think if I started going around naked it would work?"
"Well, Corporal, I'd stick to woman's dresses, if I were you," he replied with a chuckle. "I'm Captain McNider, the surgeon temporarily filling in for Captain Hunnicut." McNider held out the papers in his hands. "Or so they tell me."
"Then you're the guy we've been waiting for, Doc. Our lovely hellhole is straight ahead. Colonel Potter and Major Burns are expecting you."
"Thank you, Corporal...?"
"Klinger. Maxwell Q. Klinger. Call me Maxine, and you get a fat lip. If you want tips on trying to get out of the Army, you can come to me, sir."
"Thank you, Klinger. I... doubt I will," he said, smiling inwardly.
At McNider's signal, the jeep drove on ahead toward the Mobile Army Surgical Hospital camp.
***
Officially they listed me as a M*A*S*H surgeon, and a blind surgeon at that, which raised some eyebrows. I was instructed to say merely that I was there on a brief assignment, as the Army had asked me to go out into the field to train some of the field surgeons in new surgical procedures, given my reputation in medical research.
Of course, the real story is never quite so simple. The real reason I was there was Jake Bennetti. Specifically, the U.S. military wanted to know how Bennetti was still alive after what he'd been through. Shortly after my arrival, I was briefed on all the patients, but the only one I needed to know about was Bennetti. Of course, some of the details I'd already been briefed on, while others I only learned much later on.
Jake Bennetti, born in Opal City to working-class, Italian immigrant parents, was twenty-two years old by the time North Korea invaded South Korea, and a United Nations expeditionary force was sent there to help South Korea against the communist threat. Immediately enlisting in the U.S. Navy, Seaman Bennetti was on his way to Korea by the middle of July.
The ship he served on was supply attack. Bennetti did his best to avoid Captain Howard, who wasn't well-liked by the crew under him. Howard didn't approve of the locals, either, prejudiced against anyone who wasn't a WASP. In fact, he'd arranged all those under his command who didn't fit into his bigoted view of true Americans to the same "disposable" unit, Seaman Bennetti being one of them.
Everyone in the unit knew that Captain Howard didn't like them and had been trying to get them out of his command the fastest way he knew how. By sending the unit on high-risk missions, they would be transferred out of his command, rotated home faster, or dead -- he didn't care which. Despite this, Bennetti's unit was kept alive and intact through their early missions, though they were living on borrowed time.
Finally, Bennetti's unit was on extended coast patrol on the wrong side of the front. Skirmishes with several North Korean units in the area had knocked out their radio, leaving them incommunicado for several days. It was the middle of the night when they heard their bombers flying overhead, dropping their payload right on top of them. Whatever the stuff that came out of the bombs was, it killed everything but the plants.
Seaman Bennetti and the others tried to secure their gas masks and find a safe place from the bombing, but it was too late. His whole unit was dead within hours, and Bennetti was fading fast even as he reached the dinghy that would bring him back to his ship.
Still, nerve gas was one thing. A floating mine was another. Bennetti, paddling over the water in near-zero light, ended up passing right over a floating mine, which exploded beneath him.
Hours later, Seaman Bennetti was found washed ashore. He'd been left completely unharmed by the explosion, and awoke hours later in Seoul with no memory of what had happened to him, his legs merely paralyzed instead of pulverized. The doctors told him that his entire unit had been killed, and that he was the only survivor, but they didn't tell him how.
At a hearing, Seaman Bennetti was told that all Allied units had been ordered to clear the area before the bombing, an order that never reached his unit as their radio was out. Bennetti was never told that he'd been exposed to a top secret, experimental nerve gas out of which he was the only survivor in an area containing three hundred enemy soldiers along with several civilians and countless animals. All he was told was that he'd triggered a floating mine that had miraculously failed to kill him, but had paralyzed his legs. Nobody had expected him to survive.
Seaman Bennetti remained blissfully unaware of the reason for his tough skin, and to my knowledge never did learn the truth. Unknown to Bennetti, the Navy was convinced the nerve gas had something to do with it, but didn't know why.
All Bennetti seemed concerned about at first was that he never got to thank the G.I. that brought him back to Seoul, as the only thing he remembered was that a soldier who looked like he was wearing metal armor over his skin and under his uniform was the one who found him. But whenever he asked about him, he was always told he didn't have the security clearance to talk to him.
I'd heard rumors about a robotic G.I. that was used in the last war, and if they'd had the ability to make one in the 1940s, and were still hush-hush about it into the '50s, that probably meant the project was still active. Sure enough, as Diana -- our mutual source at Military Intelligence -- told me sometime later, the soldier who'd discovered Bennetti was called JAKE 3, and he -- or it -- was the latest version of the G.I. Robots that were first deployed in World War II. (*)
[(*) Editor's note: Although a version of this character exists on Earth-Two, the original character appears on Earth-One, as seen in "My Buddy, the Robot," Weird War Tales #101 (July, 1981).]
The Navy, paranoid and fearful that reports of their experimental and very illegal nerve gas might reach the press, transferred Seaman Bennetti to a random U.S. Army M*A*S*H unit and told the commanding officer there only the barest of details about his condition. A general who remembered me from my brief military service in the last war recommended that I be summoned to discover what their own medical experts could not.
Of course, I was also sworn to secrecy. Thus, during my time with the M*A*S*H unit, I couldn't reveal the real reason I'd been sent there, and instead play along with the idea that the Army was desperate enough to send them a blind surgeon.
***
Dr. Charles McNider stepped out of the jeep and ordered the driver to get his bags out. He kept his eyes straight, but saw a young corporal rushing to greet him.
"Are you the temporary surgeon we've been waiting--?" the corporal began, halting in mid-sentence as he widened his eyes. "Holy smokes! You're blind! The Army sent us a blind surgeon!"
McNider smiled at the boy's innocence. "I'm Captain McNider. I'm here on a special assignment. I've been sent to assist in surgery as an advisor and to brief everyone on new medical techniques."
"Oh!" said the corporal. "Yes, sir! Come on, sir! Colonel Potter's office is this way!" He ran to the door, not realizing that McNider wasn't following him at all, but just stood there.
The corporal turned back, almost forgetting that he was blind, and took Dr. McNider by the arm. "Sorry, sir. I'm Corporal Walter O'Reilly. But everyone calls me Radar."
"Why Radar?" McNider asked.
Radar began answering before he could finish asking the question. "Because I sort of know what's going to happen before it happens."
He took Dr. McNider to Potter's office, where the elderly colonel was toasting as usual as an excuse to drink, with a dark-haired man resting his feet on Potter's desk.
Seeing McNider, Potter stood up. "Ah, you must be the..." He spotted the cane in McNider's hand. "...surgeon?"
"Uh, yes, sir. I'm Captain McNider. I'm here to temporarily fill in for Captain Hunnicut."
"Uh, right, Captain. Radar, what in Sam Hill is goin' on?"
Before Radar could answer, the dark-haired surgeon sarcastically answered, "Looks like the Army's wisdom at its work. They probably thought a blind guy could do better at surgery than a guy who can see."
Probably not, but a blind man who can see in the darkness could do as well, McNider thought to himself, disliking this man's attitude.
Potter glared at the other surgeon. "Shut it, Pierce. At least he's here while Hunnicut is still out of action." He turned back to McNider. "This is my chief surgeon with a jackass' mouth, Captain Benjamin Franklin Pierce."
Pierce stood up and took McNider's hand. "Call me Hawkeye. And I resent that jackass remark, Colonel. I happen to have the mouth of a mare."
"Well, Captain Pierce, I'm sure we'll work together fine. What is wrong with Captain Hunnicut, by the way? I'm told he had taken ill."
"You're told right, McNider," Potter replied. "Seems he got a bad case of the flu."
"Well, if you'd show me to my quarters, Colonel, I'm sure I'll be prepared."
"All right, McNider," Potter said with a nod. "Radar--"
"I'll take him to the VIP tent," Radar answered as he grabbed McNider's arm and led him out even as Potter unnecessarily finished ordering him to take him to the VIP tent.
Potter sighed. "One of these days, I'll beat that boy to the punch."
Hawkeye leaned forward. "Colonel, are they crazier than Frank? Sending a blind guy to replace B.J.?"
Colonel Potter held up a hand before Pierce's rant could get out of control. "Ease up, Pierce. He ain't going in the O.R., unless he's here to advise. Otherwise, he'll be here to take some weight off our shoulders, and that'll be something."
"Yeah, but what if we need another surgeon?"
Potter leaned forward until he was face to face with Hawkeye. "Then let's hope that man can do surgery blind. If you're that worried, I'll have Radar call I Corps and get the lowdown on why we have a blind surgeon."
"I'm telling you, Colonel, there's something strange about that guy." He rolled his eyes. "Good Lord, I must be insane. I sound like Frank Burns!"
***
My time with the M*A*S*H unit lasted only for two weeks, giving Captain Hunnicut enough time to recover from the flu. During that time I accompanied the doctors and nurses on their daily rounds, lectured the doctors on new medical procedures every evening, and even assisted with surgery, though only as an advisor. All the while, I was particularly interested in Seaman Jake Bennetti's progress, though I took great pains not to show him any particular preference.
Finally, upon Hunnicut's return, I arranged for Seaman Jake Bennetti to be given a medical discharge, then transferred with me back to the States, where I was better equipped to study his condition and bring him to full recovery. To tell you the truth, I was relieved to get out of that warzone as soon as possible, though I often wondered what became of that particular M*A*S*H crew, and what things would have been like had I remained there in earnest.
Of course, Bennetti only knew that I'd been tasked to take over the treatment of his paralysis, and never knew that my primary task was discovering how an experimental nerve gas could make Bennetti invulnerable enough to withstand an explosion.
The paralysis lasted for about three more weeks, before Bennetti could start walking again. It took him a few more weeks to get used to being able to walk once more, but he was grateful, as he demonstrated when he had far surpassed his previous physical peak.
***
May, 1951:
"Doc, how can I repay you for this?" said Jake Bennetti, standing in Dr. Charles McNider's New York City office.
"Listen to what I have to say, and carefully consider it before you ask that question," replied Dr. McNider. "Something about your metabolism caused your nervous system to shut down, then restart slowly when you hit that mine. It was as if some... unknown element in your body was all that was needed to make you superhuman. Your body is repairing itself at a faster rate than I've ever seen. No, repairing isn't the right word. Your tissue is regenerating so much that it's an exact copy of what your undamaged tissue would be in place of your damaged tissue."
Bennetti looked confused. "What does that mean?"
"I'm not done yet," continued McNider. "Other parts of that unknown element, when it reacted with your metabolism, enhanced your bone and muscle structure. It also made you physically stronger."
"Yeah, and...?"
"That means you are stronger and faster, and heal more completely than any normal human should. We need to measure your limits, but if what I suspect is true, you're most likely bulletproof as well."
Jake Bennetti chuckled. "You mean ta tell me I'm like that Superman cat?"
"Well, not exactly," Dr. McNider said with a smile, "but you are similar to what I surmise a descendant of his would be after several generations of breeding with humans."
"So... like Hourman, then?" suggested Bennetti.
"I suppose, though you aren't subject to the same time limit from the pills," Dr. McNider said. "But there's something you share with both men that could benefit not only you, but the world."
Bennetti looked at him from the corner of his eye, wondering just why Dr. Charles McNider was so familiar with these things, let alone why he cared about them. Yes, he was a famous medical scientist and crime author with ties to the U.S. government, but what if there was something more to his doctor than he knew?
Chapter 2: The Bad Seed
by Doc Quantum and Christine Nightstar
Seaman Jake Bennetti was definitely brave, and he seemed like a good kid at the time. Unfortunately, I never did figure out why that nerve gas didn't kill him. I even called in Rex Tyler to help me break down the components of that stuff, since he had a high-level security clearance of his own for his government work at Bannermain Chemical, and we still didn't have a clue about why. The only thing I could guess was that he'd been protected by some kind of beneficial mutation, which was tantamount to saying I just didn't know.
All of this took a major toll on Bennetti, who'd been paralyzed for so long he was ecstatic not only to be able to walk again, but now possessed super-strength and invulnerability. After he'd fully recovered, I sent him to see Ted Grant for physical therapy, and suggested to Ted that he train Bennetti to be a super-hero. After all, by the early 1950s only a small handful of heroes were left, and I'd thought it was time that we saw a few new heroes for a new era. You might say I was a poor judge of character, given what he ended up becoming, but after hearing what he's been up to more recently, I may have been right all along.
Jake Bennetti knew only that famed prizefighter Ted Grant was an acquaintance of mine, and never seemed to guess that we shared mutually kept secrets as well. And if Bennetti thought that the training he'd gone through in bootcamp was tough, that was a cakewalk compared to what Ted had him doing.
Ted put Bennetti through all kinds of exercises designed to maximize his agility, strength, and endurance. He wasn't the only one, of course; even back then Ted was training a few other proteges, most of whom went on to become successful boxers in their own merit.
When I asked him how things were going later on, Ted told me that Bennetti particularly excelled in unconventional sparring. He had tried and failed to teach Bennetti a few martial arts, only for him to fall back on boxing as his primary style of hand-to-hand combat.
After three months of the most intensive, tortuous, brutal training Bennetti thought he'd ever go through, Ted told him he was ready to do almost anything he wanted, and suggested he'd make a great super-hero. When Ted asked him if he had any sort of idea of what to call himself, Bennetti told him he only wanted to be known as Jake Bennetti, and nothing else. At that, they shook hands and parted ways.
Ted called me that night, proud of the work he'd done and sure that, soon enough, Bennetti would be making headlines alongside Superman, Johnny Quick, and Dynaman as the newest and toughest hero on the scene. Of course, we now know things turned out very differently.
As I later found out, Jake Bennetti did give his future some thought, but decided after a fairly quick deliberation that being a hero just wasn't for him.
After all, the Justice Society of America had been forced into retirement under great pressure of the House Un-American Activities Committee, which had accused us of being communists or worse because we refused to reveal our identities to the public. Several prominent individuals, both in the press and the public eye, questioned how anyone could make such accusations about a group of heroes who had fought so hard and valiantly for the American way in the war just six years earlier.
But J. Edgar Hoover, an honorary JSA member since 1940, stated that he would neither support nor hinder any such investigations into the Justice Society, which was not officially a government agency, even if several members had various levels of association with law enforcement. If any JSA members were implicated in official investigations, it was the duty of the FBI to investigate them, of course, but the FBI would not participate in any kind of persecution of the Justice Society. Of course, with a few exceptions, all of us decided to go into retirement, anyway.
That left the field wide open for all the super-powered and costumed criminals to take advantage of our absence. Anyone who wanted to be a hero after 1951 would have to be in it for the long haul, because they'd have been outnumbered by far.
And so, instead of being the hero that Ted and I hoped he'd become, Jake Bennetti would use his strength and toughness to benefit himself and only himself, by robbing banks. Beginning in New York City, he would soon make his way all across our large nation, which was almost completely unprepared for someone with his great strength and power.
***
September, 1951:
Jake Bennetti began robbing banks in New York City, and encountered hardly any real opposition except for bank guards and the police, who began referring to him as Bobo, something that particularly annoyed him. Of course, that ensured that the nickname continued to spread, until the papers began exclusively calling him Bobo wherever and whenever he struck.
Unlike many other super-powered criminals, Bobo Bennetti wouldn't typically wade into a situation with fists flying, though he was willing to use his full strength to do so if necessary. He tended to give each situation he found himself in some thought, and liked to take things slow, use confusion, and take advantage of his foes' mistakes. Despite the infamy he'd gained by robbing banks, Bobo still wasn't considered one of the most wanted criminals by the police, who were more focused on the super-crooks of the previous decade. Bobo was seen as more of a super-powered nuisance than a mastermind like Alexei Luthor or a madman like the Joker. He still floated under the radar, and was taking great advantage of his lesser-known status. Of course, it helped that Bobo had never been known to deliberately hurt civilians, and had only injured but never killed those officers of the law who'd been foolish enough to try arresting or killing him.
It wasn't long before Bobo not only ran into his first costumed hero, Doctor Mid-Nite, but also his first costumed villain. This is the way it happened.
The Icicle was a costumed criminal with a freeze-gun who had tangled with Green Lantern a few times in the previous decade, both solo and as a member of the Injustice Society of the World when they fought the Justice Society of America.
It turned out that the Icicle and Bobo Bennetti were planning to target the same bank on the same day, and neither the Icicle nor Bobo were willing to back down and let the other have the loot for himself.
Dr. Charles McNider, feeling a deep sense of regret every time Jake Bennetti made a headline, had been keeping a close ear on his sources in the criminal grapevine. That was how he learned that both the Icicle and Bobo were planning their heists for the same bank on the same day, and weren't being too careful about keeping their plans a secret from the police, either. Given the lack of costumed heroes around in those days, both super-criminals were arrogant enough to believe that nobody could stop them, except perhaps the other. They would soon discover otherwise, for this event would prompt Doctor Mid-Nite to don his costume again for the first time since the JSA's disbanding, something he would continue to do on occasion for the next twelve years until he and his fellow JSAers officially came out of retirement in 1963. But that was still well in the future, and for some time Dr. McNider would remain somewhat apprehensive about crime-fighting out in the open again after Congress had publicly smeared the Justice Society's good name.
On the day of the planned bank heist, the Icicle showed up in the morning some ten minutes after the bank opened for the day, and he brought a gang of thugs with him. Unfortunately, as the Icicle soon learned, he wasn't the first one there.
Somehow, Bobo Bennetti had managed to slowly and meticulously gain entry to the bank through an upper floor before dawn, and was in a position to start picking off the gang one by one.
By the time the Icicle began firing his freeze gun, Bobo had already taken out almost his entire gang quickly and quietly enough to leave the super-villain without support. Bobo even took the time to throw furniture in the path of the rays so that no innocent bystanders could be frozen, even as he came closer and closer to his rival. Terrified, and realizing that he was no match for the much younger and stronger Bobo Bennetti, the Icicle made good his escape. Bobo even chased after him as well as he could to make sure his rival was really gone.
Doctor Mid-Nite, hearing that the Icicle's attempt to rob a bank had been stopped by none other than Bobo Bennetti, knew that Bobo would return to the bank to rob it properly himself, even if the police assumed he'd given up. Thus he decided to lay in wait at the bank much like Bobo had done earlier.
Thus, when Bobo turned up that afternoon and started taking out the guards with one sledgehammer-like punch after another, Doctor Mid-Nite confronted his foe. As his doctor, Charles McNider felt responsible for letting his former patient fall into a life of crime, though he knew he really couldn't have done anything more to steer him in the right direction. Bennetti had made his choice.
"Bennetti, give this up now!" said Mid-Nite.
Bobo Bennetti didn't know anything about Doctor Mid-Nite except that he'd been one of the members of the Justice Society of America who had quit the mystery-man game rather than reveal his secret identity to the world. Doctor Mid-Nite was supposed to be retired, and yet here he was, the first costumed hero Bobo ever saw up close.
"Well, well, well," said Bennetti, rubbing his chin in amusement. "You're that Doc Mid-Nite guy, ain'tcha? I was wonderin' when one of you JSA cats was gonna try to tussle with me."
A moment later, he saw absolutely nothing as Mid-Nite threw a few blackout bombs at the ground, and pitch-black gas began filling the air, blinding him. "What the--?!"
Realizing what Mid-Nite was doing, Bobo used some of his military training to keep himself from becoming a target, and closed his eyes instead of striving in vain to see through the darkness. He planned to cut off the hero. "Not gonna stop me that easy, Doc."
Doctor Mid-Nite wasn't one to use weapons that often, but he grew concerned when he saw that Bobo wasn't about to let the blackout bombs stop him from bowling over anyone in his path in order to escape the bank with the loot. He's just going to smash his way out of here with the money, Mid-Nite realized. Unless...
Swooping below Bobo's ham-like fists, Doctor Mid-Nite grabbed a pair of scissors from a nearby desk and used them to slice open the cash bags as Bobo smashed his way out through the dark cloud.
Bobo had thus been forced to rush out of the bank with nothing to show for it but two empty bags, which he dropped to the ground in disgust. "Clever, Doc. You cost me my loot. But you still don't got me."
Unfortunately for Mid-Nite, Bobo for all his honor still wasn't above taking a hostage, and he unexpectedly grabbed a beautiful blonde woman from the crowd of onlookers.
"Come 'ere, doll," he said, hauling her over his shoulder toward his convertible. "Keep me company for a few minutes, won'tcha? And don't worry -- I'd never hurt a real looker like you."
The blonde seemed to be in shock as Bobo easily placed her in the passenger seat as if she weighed nothing, then drove off as if they were on a date. Having been retired for a few months by that time, Mid-Nite wasn't prepared to deal with a hostage situation, so he let up the pressure and allowed Bobo to escape with the blonde. He could only hope that Jake Bennetti wasn't the type of man to hurt an innocent woman.
Still, he wasn't done with Bobo by a long shot, for he had already placed a tracking device on Bobo's getaway car in the event that he managed to make such an escape. And he would rescue that female hostage no matter what it might take.
After making a quick stop at his office to pick up some equipment, Doctor Mid-Nite followed the tracking signal to where Bobo had dumped it, and started a slow search from there. Around midnight he finally found Bobo's hideout, an abandoned warehouse.
From the outside of the warehouse, Mid-Nite couldn't spot any immediate threats. But appearances were deceiving, so he took the utmost care as he made his way into the place as silently as possible.
Unlike other super-crooks such as the Icicle, Bobo Bennetti always worked alone, so there were no guards around to tip him off. Mid-Nite had just finished searching the hideout in vain for any trace of the blonde woman by the time that Bobo finally discovered his presence. He had doffed his jacket and shirt and was wearing only a white undershirt as he wiped grease from his hands, having been working on his convertible. A trail of cigarette smoke was highlighted by the light fixture above.
"Where's the girl, Bennetti?" demanded Doctor Mid-Nite as his foe glanced over at him and grinned.
"You just don't know when to quit, do ya, Doc?" said Bobo. The invulnerable bank robber then took one last drag on his cigarette, snuffed it out in his palm, then lunged toward Mid-Nite.
Bobo Bennetti's steely fist could smash through armor plating like butter, and Mid-Nite had seen him use his super-strength effectively. He didn't know the limits of Bobo's invulnerability, but he wasn't foolish enough to try to test him in hand-to-hand combat. Mid-Nite did, however, realize that he had to stop Bobo before he could get within grabbing distance, or he was finished. The best way to neutralize Bobo was by using a device that he had been working on for a few years, one which he'd been trying to miniaturize ever since he'd discovered how effective it was against powerful foes.
Unfortunately, Doctor Mid-Nite's cryotuber was still too large and heavy to use as a hand-held weapon, so he'd been forced to place his original prototype cryotuber -- the size of a small box -- on a nearby crate until his foe was in the right position to use it against him. This device, when activated, emitted a ray that paralyzed the nervous system of anyone in its path; in fact, in that way it was much like nerve gas, Mid-Nite was forced to admit, something that should be able to paralyze even an invulnerable foe like Jake Bennetti. (*)
[(*) Editor's note: See The Brave and the Bold: Doctor Mid-Nite and the Guardian: Times Past, 1947: Shedding Some Light.]
But first, Mid-Nite threw another blackout bomb to give himself the advantage in this abandoned warehouse.
"We've already played that record, don'tcha remember, Doc?" laughed Bobo. "That black smoke may've cost me my loot before, but it sure don't stop me from knockin' your lights out!"
Doctor Mid-Nite was one of the more intellectual mystery-men of his day, but he had never been above taunting his foes as he sparred with him. He needed to maneuver Bennetti into the right position, and the only way to do that was to keep him from suspecting what he was doing. He needed to make Bobo angry.
"I can see why the papers call you Bobo," said Mid-Nite, slowly backing up as he watched his foe approach. "That's a fitting name for a clown, after all."
Bennetti lunged forward suddenly, and Mid-Nite just barely managed to stay just ahead of where Bobo was swinging his fist.
"Oh, I'm not saying you belong in the circus, of course," taunted Mid-Nite. "You'd need some talent for that."
"You won't be so mouthy once I get my hands on you, Doc," growled Bobo, taking a couple more swings with his huge fists.
"That's not what I'm worried about," replied Mid-Nite. "I know you could easily kill me with one blow if given the chance. I'd just find it awfully embarrassing to be taken out by a two-bit blockhead who calls himself Bobo!"
"I never called myself that, you lousy--!" growled Bennetti.
The taunting had obviously started to work, as Bobo had stopped thinking with his head and was mad enough to run carelessly after the hero in the dark. Finally, when Bobo was just where Mid-Nite wanted him, he flipped the switch on his cryotuber.
The effect was immediate. As Mid-Nite peered into the darkness, he could see that Bobo Bennetti had stopped walking and was now struggling with every muscle in his body to just take one step forward. Veins were popping all over his forehead, biceps, and chest, and he was gritting his teeth. His very body, which had been invulnerable to everything else, was working against him thanks to the cryotuber.
"AAA-AAA-AAARGH!"
Unfortunately, it wasn't working quickly enough, and Bobo managed with great difficulty to reach out and grab a support beam, ostensibly to steady himself. But instead he used his great, Samson-like strength to push against it again and again, until the ceiling above them started to break apart.
Doctor Mid-Nite realized he was in a bind when Bobo began to bring the floor above them down on his head, causing a broken light fixture to fall upon the cryotuber, smashing it and cracking its casing, rendering it ineffective.
Blast it all! he inwardly cursed. Mid-Nite attempted to leap out of the way, but he, too, was struck by a falling object and immediately knocked unconscious.
***
Hours later, Doctor Mid-Nite awoke with a pounding headache in the midst of rubble as the sun's rays shone through the shattered windows above. He was chagrined to realize that Bobo Bennetti had escaped, but apparently only after ensuring that Mid-Nite wasn't fatally injured.
And that wasn't all, Dr. Charles McNider realized as he put a hand to his head and felt his exposed blond hair instead of the dark green cowl he wore as Mid-Nite. He still had his goggles on, but the right lens had been smashed. Still, it was evident that Jake Bennetti had discovered Doctor Mid-Nite's secret -- that he was really Charles McNider, Bennetti's former doctor.
Lifting himself out of the debris, McNider stood and began patting himself all over to ensure that he had no serious injuries. Finding himself relatively unscathed except for the goose egg on his head and lacerations from the shattered lens below his right eye, McNider found a note stuffed into his belt, wrapped around a wad of bills. He unwrapped it and read it with his good left eye.
Sorry for breaking your glasses, Doc. Nothing personal, you understand. Just business. Here's some cash to pay for its replacement. Don't worry, it's legit, from my own pocket.
And hey, don't you or Coach Grant blame yourselves for anything I've done since I left your care. Guess I'm just a bad seed after all.
-- Jake Bennetti
And hey, don't you or Coach Grant blame yourselves for anything I've done since I left your care. Guess I'm just a bad seed after all.
-- Jake Bennetti
Charles McNider chuckled. If there was one thing about Bennetti that he could appreciate, it was his sense of humor. He was certain he would face Bobo Bennetti again sooner or later, but he had no worries that his former patient would hold a grudge.
Still, McNider was motivated now more than ever to finally figure out how to make his cryotuber into a handheld weapon. That was, of course, if he could salvage the remains of his damaged prototype.
Epilogue: New Gig
by Doc Quantum
"And that was my first encounter with Bobo Bennetti," said Doctor Mid-Nite. "I faced him a few more times after that, but I was never again forced to rely on his mercy. That would have been pushing things a bit too much, I think."
"What happened to his hostage?" asked Power Girl.
"Oh, she was fine," replied Mid-Nite. "After fleeing the scene, Bobo dropped her off on a street corner on the outskirts of town before heading to his hideout. From her description of the incident, she nearly sounded smitten with the charming crook."
"I remember he fought Starman a few times, too, and Green Lantern," added Red Robin.
"That's right. In fact, Starman was the first to put him in jail," explained Mid-Nite. "That happened in 1952, more than a year after I fought him that first time. He never remained in jail for long, though. Most jails weren't equipped to keep him locked up for good, and as I explained earlier, he was never seen as a major level threat. Of course, that changed in 1965, when he killed his wife and finally gave himself up."
"Right, right, I remember that," replied Dick Grayson. "It was just about that time that I was preparing myself for a solo career as Robin, so I'd brushed up on all the Batcave's existing crime files before exhaustively updating them. His wife had been cheating on him, wasn't she? And Bobo caught her in the act. He ended up killing them both in a crime of passion, only to meekly surrender to the Opal City police."
"He was in prison for years after that," continued Mid-Nite. "Fifteen years, if I recall correctly. That reminds me... I did see him again shortly after he got out of jail. It was 1980, or '81. He visited my office, wanting a check-up as if he were just a regular patient. He paid in cash."
"You're kidding!" said Power Girl. "What did he say to you?"
"Not much," said McNider. "Neither of us acknowledged the past at all, in fact. I gave him a check-up just as he'd asked for, and with a clean bill of health I sent him on his way."
"Do you remember what he did after that?" Kara Zor-L asked.
"You mean, did he ever rob another bank?" asked McNider. "Well, he tried. Old habits die hard, you know. Only thing is, before he got very far, a gang of bank robbers showed up calling themselves the Daredevils. You'd remember the original group of Daredevils from the '40s, Dick."
"Yep," replied Red Robin. "They originally called themselves the Three Devils." (*)
[(*) Editor's note: See "The Case of the Three Devils," Detective Comics #50 (April, 1941).]
"That was when Bobo met the Star-Spangled Kid, who saw something in Jake Bennetti that I'd seen years earlier -- the potential to be a good man. Together, the Kid and Bobo stopped the Daredevils from robbing the bank."
"So he became a hero after all," said Power Girl.
"In a way, I guess he did," replied Charles McNider. "Anyway, he stopped robbing banks for good. Instead, he got a job as a security guard with Pinkerton, and made a career out of keeping banks safe instead of robbing them. I believe he and Sylvester Pemberton remain friends to this day, and through him Starman became his friend as well. I believe Ted Knight has even invited him over for Christmas dinner a few times."
"Wow!" said Kara. "And is Bobo still working for Pinkerton? He must be getting on in years... uh, no offense."
"None taken," Mid-Nite said with a chuckle. "Actually, despite having a few wrinkles and some white hair, he's just as spry as ever."
"So many of you old guys still are," laughed Kara. "There's still one thing I don't understand, Doc. With the way you described him before the bank robbery, it isn't really clear why Jake went in for crime in the first place. Correct me if I'm wrong, but he seemed like a decent guy who, while he might not be cut out for being a public hero like us, also doesn't seem like a crook. Have you ever figured out why he made the decision he did?"
Doctor Mid-Nite was nodding as he listened to Power Girl's question. Before replying, he gave it a moment's thought. "Well, I later asked Jake about that, and whenever it came to the subject, he laughed and said he robbed his first bank because he needed some quick dough for a tip he got at the track."
"Really?" Kara replied with a frown. "I find that hard to believe."
"Agreed," said Red Robin. "It sounds like he just doesn't like to talk about it. Did you ever find anything more about why he made that fateful bad decision?"
"I did," replied Mid-Nite. "Jake tried to play it off as nothing, but there was an experience he had back at that M*A*S*H unit before my arrival that seemed to have affected him a lot more than he liked to let on. He told me about it not long after we first met in Korea, and I heard another side of the story from Hawkeye -- er, Captain Pierce -- but I didn't think about it too much until after he'd started robbing banks."
***
The M*A*S*H unit was buzzing with activity, a chaotic symphony of urgent voices, clattering equipment, and the occasional agonized cry of a wounded soldier. Medical personnel rushed from one patient to another, trying their best to handle the influx of casualties. Amidst the bedridden soldiers, one man stood out -- Jake Bennetti, a tough-talking Navy seaman with a bandaged arm and a scowl that could stop a tank.
Captain Benjamin Franklin "Hawkeye" Pierce, the charismatic and cynical surgeon, strolled over to Jake's bed, a mischievous grin dancing on his face.
"Hawkeye! Fancy seeing you here," Jake grumbled, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Thought this place would have higher standards."
Hawkeye chuckled, his eyes scanning the bustling tent. "Well, well, well! Welcome to the 4077th, Jake. Heard you survived quite the explosion out there."
Jake's scowl deepened. "Yeah, you could say that! Survived a floating mine, they tell me. Impervious, they say."
Hawkeye observed the other medical personnel struggling to insert an IV into Jake's arm, a wry smile playing on his lips. "Impervious, eh? Tell me, Jake, are you as bulletproof as you are hard to handle?"
Jake cocked an eyebrow, daring Hawkeye to try something. "Only one way to find out, Doc."
Hawkeye smirked, grabbing a needle and making a show of attempting to pierce Jake's skin. But no matter how hard he tried, the needle bent upon contact.
"Guess they don't make needles like they used to, huh?" Hawkeye mocked, unable to hide his amusement.
Jake chuckled, revealing a hint of pride. "Guess not. Must be all that traditional Korean acupuncture I've been practicing," he said with a chuckle.
Before the banter could continue, Major Frank Burns stormed into the tent, his face red with fury.
"What is going on here?! Why isn't this man properly restrained?" Frank yelled, his voice booming.
Hawkeye's smirk grew wider. "Oh, Frank, meet our newest addition -- Jake Bennetti, the man who defied the floating mine! Impervious, if you will."
Frank's disbelief was palpable. "Impervious to an exploding mine? That's preposterous! No man can be impervious!"
Jake deadpanned, his eyes locked with Frank's. "Well, Frank, looks like I just broke the mold." Making a show of flexing his arm, showing off a substantial bicep, Jake then displayed a brief flash of uncommon strength when he gripped the metal frame of the bed and easily pinched it, causing Frank to take a step back in concern.
"What was that? Are you one of those communist agents in the so-called 'Justice' Society, conspiring against us?" Frank asked, suspicion lining his voice.
Hawkeye and Jake exchanged amused glances. "Frank, believe me, Jake here couldn't conspire his way out of a paper bag even if he tried," Hawkeye laughed. "Besides, he's the hero of the hour, surviving a mine explosion!"
Jake leaned back in his bed, a glimmer of exhaustion in his eyes. "Being a hero ain't all it's cracked up to be, Doc. Look where it got us."
Hawkeye's face softened, the chaos around them momentarily forgotten. "You've got a point there, Jake. But sometimes, heroes are made, whether we like it or not."
Jake looked contemplative, his tough exterior cracking ever so slightly. "Maybe, Doc. But for now, I'll settle for just looking out for myself."
Their conversation was abruptly interrupted by the arrival of a wounded soldier on a stretcher, hastily brought in by the medical team. Hawkeye and Jake immediately snapped back into their roles, rushing over to attend to the new patient.
Hawkeye patted Jake on the shoulder as they hurried away. "Just remember, Jake, it's not always about being a hero. Sometimes, it's just about doing what's right."
"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Jake said, rolling his eyes as a hint of a smile played on his lips, as the conversation ended amidst the flurry of action around them.
***
"Take that for what you will," continued Doctor Mid-Nite. "Personally, I think Frank Burns might have soured Jake on the idea of ever becoming a hero at the very moment when just a thing started to seem possible. Who knows? If I'd been there earlier, he might never have decided to rob that first bank after all. Thankfully, he's on the side of the angels now, and he's still active. He's moved on to something else entirely, in fact. I believe you'd call it paranormal investigations."
"As I recall, he helped clean up the few remaining vampire nests in New York City earlier this year," added Dick. "Nobody calls him Bobo any longer."
"I can see why," replied Kara.
"They call him the Goon instead," continued Dick. (*)
[(*) Editor's note: See Secret Origins: The Goon.]
"Ugh. Really?" said Kara, crinkling her nose. "Somehow that sounds worse."
"Bennetti, at least, prefers it," McNider said with a shrug. "To him it's a code name, nothing more. And in his line of business, code names save lives."
"What do you mean by that?" asked Kara.
"Jake Bennetti, former bank robber and convict, is now a special agent of the FBI," explained Doctor Mid-Nite. "You didn't hear that from me, and don't ask me how they managed to make that work, but rumor has it Starman's old FBI contact, Woodley Allen, managed to pull a few strings to get him his new gig."
"I hear he's doing well tackling weird cases, too," added Red Robin. "Being impervious to anything magical, he's even got an advantage over you in some ways, Kara. It certainly makes me glad that he's out there fighting vampires and werewolves instead of you, given your peculiar Kryptonian vulnerability to magic."
"Yeah, yeah," said Power Girl, rolling her eyes. "Why do you think I hate magic so much? Every time Yellow Peri shows up, I wish I could just pawn her off on Doctor Fate or the Spectre." (*)
[(*) Editor's note: See Power Girl: Cosmic Balancing Act.]
"Next time she appears, you should call Jake Bennetti," said Mid-Nite with a wink. "After one visit from the Goon, she'll never bother you again."
The End
