We move next to a deep-sea drilling platform off the coast of Florida. Two figures swim toward it at super-speed and then launch themselves out of the water. A young woman with auburn hair and a skimpily useless wetsuit lands on the platform. Arthur Curry lands beside her, in his immensely more practical wetsuit. He rips a door off its hinges. Alarms blare. "Make sure everyone's out," he says to his lady companion. Back at Fort Ryan, the bigwigs get word that there's been a breach at "Poseidon 3459." Slade uses the attack to prove to the others just how right he is about the vigilantes. "It's time we took these 'heroes' under our control," he says, "and proved who is really fighting for truth, justice and the American way." OK, Clark really can't use that slogan now. As the sun sets, A.C. and his companion are just walking up onto shore. They embrace each other and kiss. In the distance behind them, the platform explodes in a huge fireball. Somebody save all the damn poor fish and other creatures before they get boiled alive or choked with pollution!

Seriously, though. What a stupid, stupid way to shut that thing down. Isn't A.C. supposed to be a friend of the environment? He could have disabled it in some other way and then let the fishies and barnacles use the platform as an artificial reef! Blowing it up just makes tons of pollution! Then there's the fiery explosion itself turning the immediate area into a giant pot of vichyssoise. Dumb! DUMB! But I guess it wouldn't have looked as "cool" if they'd stopped to make out in front of a peaceful sunset. Nothing says romance like fiery doom.

Watchtower. I wonder who occupies the rest of the building? Maybe Oliver bought the whole thing. Dr. Hamilton drops a little red flap of something into a beaker full of orange liquid. It bubbles and fizzes. With the ultrasound scan of the Suicide Squad symbol on a nearby monitor, he explains how just a tiny bit of blue kryptonite was used -- enough to get through Clark's skin, not so much that it affected his powers. Whatever. Just chalk it up to magic or some crap. Clark is in the background, rubbing his own shoulder. Ew! That red flap was a flap of Clark! Hamilton also mentions Clark's secret meetings with Kara. "That's not exactly like you, Clark," he says. What, doing things off-screen? That's totally like him. Clark brushes aside Hamilton's concern. He keeps rubbing his shoulder. "You could have warned me this would sting a little," he whines. Big baby. Oliver shows up and tells Hamilton to give Clark a lollipop. Heh. Then he reminds them he's not supposed to come to Watchtower anymore, so what's the deal? Clark tells him about the tag removal. Oliver bemoans how difficult it is to stay out of the public eye. Debbie Downer Hamilton points out that the Vigilante Registration Act is just going to make things harder. "As much as I hate to admit it, Flag saw this whole thing coming," Oliver says. He grudgingly praises Flag for fighting against the VRA, but Clark's annoyed that Flag gets to stay hidden while the rest of them take the blame for the Squad's actions. "Oliver, the government thinks we're the ones retaliating," he says. Hamilton points out they're kinda right, given how A.C. just blew up that offshore oil rig. Oliver's not surprised, given A.C.'s tendency to "protect the Big Blue." By using stupid, stupid methods. Since the VRA, the team has stopped communicating with each other. God, this whole scene is just closeups back and forth as people talk. I'd ding Tom Welling's directing here, but there's really only so much you can do when the script is just a string of info dumps.