I love the Suicide Squad
- specifically, John Ostrander and Kim Yale's Suicide Squad
. The only decent thing to come out of the godawful Legends
crossover, Ostrander revitalized the espionage comic, turning it into a super-powered Dirty Dozen meets Mission: Impossible. Since then only a few comics have come close to depicting the seamy underside of the DC Universe with any success, and the closest spiritual heir to the Squad today is probably Gail Simone's Secret Six
The beautiful thing about the Squad was that things always went wrong. Horribly wrong. Excruciatingly, holy crap, we're screwed beyond recognition wrong. And when they still manage to pull off their objectives, there was always a toll, not just in lives, but psyches. As one USENETter put it, "It wouldn't be a Squad mission without the bitter taste of ashes."
If anything else justifies the classic status of the original Squad series, it's that Ostrander and Yale gave us not one, but two indelible characters: Oracle, and the inimitable and incomparable Amanda Waller, mother of all badasses.
One of the many perfect moments in the series, from Suicide Squad
#22 (1988) follows:( I don't... read minds... )