Team Seven #0 review

It's the DC Universe of five years ago. World governments are noting the emergence of superheroes and villains, and have identified the metagene that means more are coming. Believing a superhuman arms race has begun, they put together Team Seven from a motley bunch of agents and outsiders.

This debut issue quickly finds a formula and sticks to it - husband and wife operatives Dinah Drake and Kurt Lance pop up around the world and recruit specialists. They include Slade Wilson, the future Deathstroke; Cole Cash, wearing his head hankie years before he apparently first dons it in Grifter #1; and Amanda Waller, not yet heading up the Suicide Squad. There's also weapons expert Alex Fairchild, whose daughter Caitlin has shown up in Superboy; pilot Summer Ramos; intelligence expert Dean Higgins; and James Bronson, a 'blue flamer' - I believe that means he lights his farts.

I make that nine, so presumably two of this lot are getting killed. Then again, the government calls them Team Seven, so perhaps they're messing with my head. There are just seven folk on the cover, though. Which two are missing, I couldn't say, war-suits being rather non-conducive to facial recognition.

I like the Mr and Mrs Smith vibe Dinah and Kurt have going in Justin Jordan's pacy script, and the idea that the US government is taking action to ensure superhumans don't destabilise the world. Team Seven is part of a larger project known as Majestic, which is intriguing, and there's a mysterious reference to someone called Steel Soldier. Plus, the good old Gen factor is mentioned by some guy who's apparently inflating pillows with a bong.

But while black ops types make a certain sense, I'm not a huge fan of grimacing people with big guns - something I probably should have expected, given that this is a new version of a Wildstorm concept. And I hate Deathstroke in any incarnation. Still, I'll likely give the first couple of issues a go, see how the cast interact and what type of missions they take on.

But I do hope the editing gets tighter. The plural of military policemen is not 'MP's', and lines such as 'You're already the top of all your peers' have me wanting to turn this comic into cat litter.

Penciller Jesus Merino's storytelling is rather good, his dynamic illustrations making the script easy to follow. He's great at the hi-tech weaponry and crafts, and his people are nicely varied (though I had problems recognising Amanda Waller as a woman in her first panels, and he's too obviously a fan of women's bottoms). The inking is shared by Norm Rapmund and Rob Hunter, and while you can see a difference in finish, it's subtle, and overall the pages look good.

The cover by Ken Lashley, coloured by Nathan Eyring, shows that too many people in battle armour with guns can make for a messy page. To be fair, Lashley is hobbled by the DC zero month layout.

So, not the best debut ever, but I won't write this book off just yet. Jordan is an unknown quantity, and I'm a fan of Merino; now the introductions are out of the way, they may just dazzle us.