Back to GatefoldIssue #65 by Steve Crosby
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"Until Proven"
They emerged from outside the mansion, dejected. First was the youngest of them, Binary and Speedball, used to criticism but still so susceptible to it. Following them was Stingray, Espirita and Photon on either side of him. While longtime heroes, those three often tried to avoid the costumes, preferring to use their talents in more conventional pursuits.
Last was the first among them. Warbird, recently named Chairperson of the Avengers, Earth’s Mightiest Heroes. At that moment, she desperately wanted a drink.
“That could have gone better,” said Speedball, peeling of his mask and tossing it on a table. Without it he was Robbie Baldwin, claims investigator for Damage Control, newly assigned to the Avengers account.
“Or worse,” said Binary, trying to be optimistic. “We could have announced our current guest at the mansion. Torches and pitchforks would’ve…”
She saw Dr. Robert Bruce Banner standing in the doorway, and tried to save face. “Sorry, but you scare them.”
Warbird shot Binary a look and was about to say something.
“It’s all right,” said Bruce. “I scare myself. How bad was it?”
“Most of the questions were about Captain America,” said Photon, herself a former Chairperson. “So, as bad as any other time a long-established member leaves.”
Warbird saw their new government liaison, Stu Conrad, approaching. “Thanks for being here, everyone. Quick meeting in five minutes, then we’ll disperse.”
As the team scattered to see to various tasks before the meeting, Warbird went to meet Stu. “I’m sure this isn’t what you were expecting.”
“Alien invasion, demonic possession, a trip through time, those were the things I expected,” said Stu. “But Captain America leaving, nothing that bad crossed my mind.”
“That’s an exaggeration,” said Warbird. “This is a good team, tried and tested.”
“Tested yes, but have they passed?” asked Stu. He checked tweets on his phone. “Right now feedback on this new team is less than positive.”
It was so ridiculous Warbird couldn’t help but chuckle. “New? Two members were replaced by well-established heroes. Speedball isn’t the first member of the New Warriors to join us, and his previous time with Force Works was stellar. And Photon, she used to lead this team, for crying out loud.”
“And with Captain America out, some wonder why she isn’t again,” said Stu. “Although a lot of them are still calling her Captain Marvel. She could consider taking that name back, and for that matter why don’t you go by Ms. Marvel anymore?”
“Maybe because neither of us wants to be defined by a man,” Warbird said in response. “And while I may be field leader at Captain America’s suggestion, I’m Chairperson by vote. I would have welcomed a challenge by Photon, but she doesn’t want the full-time commitment the position entails.”
“The fact remains,” said Stu, “new leader, new team. Criticism isn’t about the members, it’s about you. Success may settle the matter, but failure will rest on your shoulders.”
“When I rate the consequences of failure, how it reflects on me is near the bottom.” Warbird walked toward the elevator and looked over her shoulder. “Care to observe my first meeting?”
“No, there are some calls I need to return.” Stu scrolled over the names on his phone, among the most powerful men in government, and sighed. To himself he muttered, “Hopefully there’s a crisis soon. A small one.”
# # # # # # # # # #
In the yard of a New York State prison, a man sat by himself. In his years of incarceration, he’d quickly gained a reputation as someone not to be bothered, mainly because he’d managed to take control of all illegal activity inside the prison. Those who had tried to compete or replace him never lasted long. Even the guards and prison administration had learned to leave him be, eventually.
At first, attempts to isolate Aaron Nicholson had been frequent. Long stints in solitary and multiple transfers had failed however. Wherever they sent him, he’d learned to adapt and thrive, even managing to communicate and command while separated from the population. It was a talent Aaron always had, seeing the angles, finding the answers.
The only transfer Aaron resisted had been to the Vault, his lawyers successfully arguing that he had no powers. A lie, but so long as Aaron didn’t use his abilities they couldn’t be proven. The intelligence was unrelated, a trait Aaron had possessed long before the experiment. It was the intelligence that allowed him to read the complicated cipher located deep in the letter he’d received.
Though he could have left at any time, Aaron enjoyed prison life. It was a controlled environment that left him wanting for nothing, with the occasional mild challenge to keep life interesting. But the letter was from an old friend’s daughter, asking Aaron to return to the life that sometimes he did miss.
It had taken Aaron seconds decipher the letter, but considering the request was taking far longer. The angles were almost beyond count, with nearly every conclusion being an end to this life Aaron had made. And there was the disturbingly high possibly that Aaron would die again, not a pleasant thought.
The only reason Aaron was considering the request, he knew, was the memory of a little girl’s laugh.
“Really no choice at all,” Aaron muttered.
All it took was the conscious choice, the decision that he needed to escape. One call to his attorneys, and Aaron knew he would have been released tomorrow. But it’d been to long, and so Aaron made the decision.
The answer to his dilemma was flight, and so Aaron flew. Slowly at first, but when level with the fence Aaron flew higher. Faint cries reached his ears, and a shot rang out, though by then he was flying too fast and too high. Zooming away from his new life, Aaron made for New York City, and his old life as The Answer.
# # # # # # # # # #
The storefront café in Queens exploded into violence. People ran, panicked, as Darkhawk battled armed gangsters. Many bullets bounced off his armor, but some founds dug in, and they hurt. Darkhawk retaliated, knocking two men down with a dark force blast.
“I had thought you were on the West Coast,” said the young woman leading the gunmen. She was Allegra Bazin, daughter of late crimelord Philippe Bazin. “Fortunately, you only save me the trouble of hunting you down myself!”
Allegra’s weapon was no ordinary handgun. When the explosive shell hit Darkhawk, he crashed through the café and onto the street. From the corner of his visor, Darkhawk saw two boys in their early teens running down the street. Chris Powell had been enjoying the day with his brothers, twins Jason and Jonathan, when Allegra had attacked with her men. It’d only been by pure luck that Chris had managed to change into Darkhawk without anyone noticing, and giving his brothers the chance to escape.
“I thought this was over, Allegra,” said Darkhawk as he rushed to his feet. “Your father is dead, his operations broken up. You could have taken the chance to walk away, live your own life.”
“Oh, I decided I will.” Allegra fired another round, but Darkhawk raised his personal force field. The shell exploded harmlessly, though Darkhawk was driven back a step. “My father’s empire will become mine, and to cement my rule his enemies must die!”
That explained the attack, Darkhawk thought as he leapt forward to grapple with three of her men. Chris’ father Michael Powell was a policeman who’d had a complicated history with Philippe Bazin. It was part of the reason why Chris had singled Bazin out in Darkhawk’s war against crime. It’d been foolish to think, given past encounters, that Allegra wouldn’t try to continue the feud.
A gunshot to the back of Darkhawk’s head ricocheted off his helmet, injuring an innocent bystander. “No!” cried Darkhawk, sweeping an arm to knock two men down. The third man tried to fire again, but Darkhawk grabbed the gun and squeezed, then yanked down hard. The man’s shoulder dislocated, leaving him in extreme pain.
Stepping over the last of Allegra’s six thugs, Darkhawk approached her. “No one else is getting hurt Allegra. Maybe you, if you don’t drop that gun and surrender.”
Far from dropping the gun, Allegra smiled and fired at a nearby parked car. It exploded, obscuring the air with flames and black smoke. Allegra turned to run, hoping the distraction would buy her seconds. A future attack would take Darkhawk into account, and then she would be victorious.
“Freeze!” cried Darkhawk. He saw through the smoke, with enhanced vision, that Allegra Bazin was not doing so. From the amulet on his chest, Darkhawk unleashed a blast of dark force that struck her in the back. Full-strength would have cut her in half, this served merely to knock her to the ground.
As Allegra struggled to get up and grab her fallen gun, Darkhawk walked over and picked up the weapon. “It’s over Allegra,” said Darkhawk, oblivious to the shape flying high over his head.
# # # # # # # # # #
“I’m surprised to see you still here.”
Speedball looked up from the papers he was reading. Warbird was standing in the doorway of the office, dressed in civilian clothing. The meeting had ended over an hour ago, and most of the team had left except for Stingray, who was assigned to monitor duty.
“Just looking over some estimates for my other job,” said Speedball. “Repairing the mansion gets expensive.”
“Yeah, but luckily the government was responsible, so they’ll be footing the bill. If and when Red Skull is caught, he can reimburse them.”
“Is that why Captain America left?” asked Speedball. “To go after Red Skull on his own?”
Warbird’s grin faded. “Captain America left for his own reasons. Although if we happen to find the Red Skull, I won’t hesitate to call him.”
As Warbird was turning to walk away, Speedball from his chair. “Look, about what I said at the meeting, I’m sorry if I came off a little-”
“Heated?” Warbird turned back to look at the young man. “You saw a friend get shot and disappear. You’re worried, want her found, I get that. Trust me when I saw we’ll do everything we can to find Timeslip.”
Speedball nodded, though he still had his doubts. Not about Warbird’s sincerity, but whether their efforts would be successful. “What are you still doing here? Finishing up Chairperson duties?”
Warbird shook her head. “No, I just returned from doing some errands. Stingray asked me to relieve him early. A lunch date with the wife.”
“Ah.” Speedball glanced at the time, and realized he was famished. “I don’t suppose he’d mind if I tagged along?”
“Hurry up and change you could probably walk out with him and ask.”
For privacy reasons, few of the Avengers would enter or leave the mansion out of costume. The exceptions were those members whose identities were publicly known, or their civilian identity had legitimate reasons for being at the mansion. Back in the day, Tony Stark’s visits were never questioned, and today neither are Robbie Baldwin’s.
Minutes later, Speedball had changed and found Warbird and Stingray at the monitoring station. To his surprise however, Stingray was still in his armor and Warbird was back in costume. On the screen he saw why, a live news report of a battle in Queens.
“Suit back up and follow us,” said Warbird. “I don’t know the other guy, but the one in armor getting his helmet handed to him is Darkhawk.”
# # # # # # # # # #
Cars smoldered in the deserted street. Darkhawk crawled from a small crater, green blood visible from several patches of his armor. He saw a police car on its side, thankfully empty of bodies. That had been the first response to the disturbance, to the gunshots. Standard procedure for super-battles was to cordon off a perimeter and wait for Code Blue, the NYPD’s superhuman response division, to assess the scene.
He walked out of a nearby burnt-out building, the man that had attacked Darkhawk. Another hired gun of Allegra Bazin, no doubt, though Darkhawk didn’t recognize the man. He didn’t wear a colorful costume, instead a three-piece suit similar to what some organized criminals wore, and it’d been slightly damaged during their battle. In his hands was a large knife, held ready as he advanced on Darkhawk.
“That amulet is set into your armor,” said The Answer. “What would happen if I were to remove it?”
Darkhawk knew the answer to that question, as it had happened to him once before. Not wanting a repeat of that incident, he tried to slow his attacker down with a dark force blast. He hopped to the side, remarkably fast and agile. Darkhawk raised an arm and his grapple claw ejected, latching onto a high ledge. It retracted, lifting Darkhawk from the street, but his attacker leapt again.
When Darkhawk was tackled, the grapple claw should have been able to hold both their weight. However, the claw’s grip was dislodged, sending both men crashing to the street. They rolled, ending with Darkhawk on the bottom, desperately pushing up as the knife was inching down towards his amulet.
“Who are you?” asked Darkhawk. “How are you…so strong?”
“I’ve been called The Answer, and I’m this strong because I need to be.” As he was saying this, The Answer’s knife touched Darkhawk’s amulet, prying into the separation between it and the armor.
“Well I…need you…off!” A burst of dark force erupted from the amulet, a desperate play by Darkhawk that succeeded in hurling The Answer away. Unfortunately, as Darkhawk lay there in agony, he felt the gaping hole in his chest.
The Answer rose to his feet, made a show of brushing dirt off his tattered suit, and held up the amulet in his hand. “Hmm, I can feel the energy pulsing in this device. I’ll need to study it further to learn exactly how it works.”
“Who cares?” Allegra Bazin walked up from behind The Answer, stopped at his side, and raised her gun. “All that matters is the end of Darkhawk!”
But just before she could fire, The Answer grabbed Allegra’s and forced it straight into the air. “No, Allegra, that won’t do it. I can see it now, this thing is a shell, the man inside elsewhere, linked by this amulet.”
“Then destroy it!”
The Answer shook his head. “That will end the link, but will it destroy the man? And besides, destroyed it cannot be used. You told me want your father’s legacy, Allegra. Wasn’t this always Philippe’s desire, the armor as his ultimate weapon?”
Allegra considered the question and nodded, a large smile on her face. “Oh yes, that will do just fine. We’ll hollow him out, and sell what’s left to the highest bidder. Pick him up and let’s go.”
But as The Answer started towards Darkhawk, who at that point was attempting to crawl away, he stopped and looked up. There, in the sky, a shape was flying rapidly in their direction. “Company is on the way. We’ll need to settle for the amulet.”
The Answer grabbed Allegra Bazin about the waist, and lifted them both into the air. Because he needed them to not be seen, The Answer was able to bend light around them. They were high in the air when Warbird landed, ignorant of what direction they’d flown in.
“Darkhawk!” Warbird knelt beside the former member of the West Coast team. She placed a hand over his chest, where green fluid was gushing out. “I’m sorry, this might hurt.”
Darkhawk couldn’t help but scream when a small, concentrated burst of energy went off inside his chest. But Warbird’s action did have the desired effect, the wound was cauterized. Warbird tapped a transceiver on her person, making contact with Speedball and Stingray who were en route.
“The bad guys ran off, but Darkhawk’s in bad shape. See to things here while I take him to the mansion.”
# # # # # # # # # #
“Okay, I’m not really sure what I can do here,” said Bruce Banner.
The noted scientist stood over a semi-conscious Darkhawk, in the med-lab beneath Avengers Mansion. Standing just outside the door were Warbird, Binary, Espirita and Photon. Stingray and Speedball were also on their way back, having cleared the scene of the battle. Banner tried again to pry off Darkhawk’s helmet, but the young man was using most of his dwindled strength to prevent this.
“It doesn’t help when he’s not cooperating.” Banner sighed. “At least as a former Avenger, there’s a file I can work with.”
Photon handed him a tablet with Darkhawk’s information on the screen. “Darkhawk swaps his body with this armored form, held in stasis in a dimension called Null Space. Apparently there’s an amulet that initiates the transfer, and it also powers the armor.”
“So if we had that, you could have just recalled your body and all this damage would be gone,” Banner said to Darkhawk. “I’ll have to stabilize you until we can find the amulet, and maybe find an alternate means to do the transfer. If I could analyze and identify traces of the amulet’s energy signature, I could synthesize the effects.”
“We could probably trace the amulet that way,” said Warbird. “Binary, Photon, you say and help. Once you have something to work with, I want Binary to see about finding a trail, while Photon you try duplicate the affects with Banner’s guidance.”
The two Avengers nodded, while Espirita spoke up. “I think I may have identified who did this. Over and over Darkhawk kept saying ‘Answer’, and when I typed it into our database a file came up.”
Warbird linked her Avengers identicard with Espirita’s, sharing the file. A holographic display appeared over the card, showing a man in a purple, white-and-gold costume with very billowy sleeves. “This wasn’t the man caught on camera.”
“It is if we removed the mask.” Espirita accessed the criminal database, bringing up The Answer’s mug shot. “Aaron Nicholson. He’s been in prison, apparently powerless, but today he escaped by suddenly flying away.”
“And the first thing he does is attack Darkhawk?” Binary asked. A glance of the file made her even more confused. “He’s been in prison for longer than Darkhawk has been active. They’ve never had contact.”
Photon also glanced at the file, and nodded. “No, but on the list of associates is the late Philippe Bazin. Darkhawk’s had his share of run-ins with him. A hit arranged from beyond the grave?”
“Possibly.” Warbird closed the files. “At least it’s something to go on for now. The longer Darkhawk is away from his amulet, the more danger he’s in.”
# # # # # # # # # #
While Darkhawk was struggling with his injuries inside Avengers Mansion, Christopher Powell lay in stasis aboard a vessel within the dimension known as Null Space. The mindless body’s vitals were constantly monitored by the vessel’s automated systems, which also maintained countless spare Darkhawk android bodies.
A flash of light triggered the vessel’s automated security measures, as weapons trained on the source of the disturbance. After a quick scan, however, the weapons powered down. The intruder was human, unarmed and powerless, with traces of the amulet’s teleportation energies and was therefore classified as a guest.
“Hmph, not a very secure haven,” said the Answer. It was uncharacteristic of him to take such a risk, leaping in the unknown, but ultimately he’d decided it had to be done. Unlocking the amulet’s secrets had taken so long, and the Avengers would surely be seeking it out.
Eyeing the android bodies with curiosity, the Answer reached towards a control console. Time later for that, he decided and walked towards the stasis pods. He had eyes for the only occupied receptacle, within which Christopher Powell lay, mindless and helpless.
“Well well, if it isn’t the soon-to-be-late Darkhawk,” said the Answer. He leaned forward, closely examining the face through the glass. “Or should I say, Mr. Powell.”
Next Issue: In the second round, Darkhawk’s odds against The Answer are even worse!
Last was the first among them. Warbird, recently named Chairperson of the Avengers, Earth’s Mightiest Heroes. At that moment, she desperately wanted a drink.
“That could have gone better,” said Speedball, peeling of his mask and tossing it on a table. Without it he was Robbie Baldwin, claims investigator for Damage Control, newly assigned to the Avengers account.
“Or worse,” said Binary, trying to be optimistic. “We could have announced our current guest at the mansion. Torches and pitchforks would’ve…”
She saw Dr. Robert Bruce Banner standing in the doorway, and tried to save face. “Sorry, but you scare them.”
Warbird shot Binary a look and was about to say something.
“It’s all right,” said Bruce. “I scare myself. How bad was it?”
“Most of the questions were about Captain America,” said Photon, herself a former Chairperson. “So, as bad as any other time a long-established member leaves.”
Warbird saw their new government liaison, Stu Conrad, approaching. “Thanks for being here, everyone. Quick meeting in five minutes, then we’ll disperse.”
As the team scattered to see to various tasks before the meeting, Warbird went to meet Stu. “I’m sure this isn’t what you were expecting.”
“Alien invasion, demonic possession, a trip through time, those were the things I expected,” said Stu. “But Captain America leaving, nothing that bad crossed my mind.”
“That’s an exaggeration,” said Warbird. “This is a good team, tried and tested.”
“Tested yes, but have they passed?” asked Stu. He checked tweets on his phone. “Right now feedback on this new team is less than positive.”
It was so ridiculous Warbird couldn’t help but chuckle. “New? Two members were replaced by well-established heroes. Speedball isn’t the first member of the New Warriors to join us, and his previous time with Force Works was stellar. And Photon, she used to lead this team, for crying out loud.”
“And with Captain America out, some wonder why she isn’t again,” said Stu. “Although a lot of them are still calling her Captain Marvel. She could consider taking that name back, and for that matter why don’t you go by Ms. Marvel anymore?”
“Maybe because neither of us wants to be defined by a man,” Warbird said in response. “And while I may be field leader at Captain America’s suggestion, I’m Chairperson by vote. I would have welcomed a challenge by Photon, but she doesn’t want the full-time commitment the position entails.”
“The fact remains,” said Stu, “new leader, new team. Criticism isn’t about the members, it’s about you. Success may settle the matter, but failure will rest on your shoulders.”
“When I rate the consequences of failure, how it reflects on me is near the bottom.” Warbird walked toward the elevator and looked over her shoulder. “Care to observe my first meeting?”
“No, there are some calls I need to return.” Stu scrolled over the names on his phone, among the most powerful men in government, and sighed. To himself he muttered, “Hopefully there’s a crisis soon. A small one.”
# # # # # # # # # #
In the yard of a New York State prison, a man sat by himself. In his years of incarceration, he’d quickly gained a reputation as someone not to be bothered, mainly because he’d managed to take control of all illegal activity inside the prison. Those who had tried to compete or replace him never lasted long. Even the guards and prison administration had learned to leave him be, eventually.
At first, attempts to isolate Aaron Nicholson had been frequent. Long stints in solitary and multiple transfers had failed however. Wherever they sent him, he’d learned to adapt and thrive, even managing to communicate and command while separated from the population. It was a talent Aaron always had, seeing the angles, finding the answers.
The only transfer Aaron resisted had been to the Vault, his lawyers successfully arguing that he had no powers. A lie, but so long as Aaron didn’t use his abilities they couldn’t be proven. The intelligence was unrelated, a trait Aaron had possessed long before the experiment. It was the intelligence that allowed him to read the complicated cipher located deep in the letter he’d received.
Though he could have left at any time, Aaron enjoyed prison life. It was a controlled environment that left him wanting for nothing, with the occasional mild challenge to keep life interesting. But the letter was from an old friend’s daughter, asking Aaron to return to the life that sometimes he did miss.
It had taken Aaron seconds decipher the letter, but considering the request was taking far longer. The angles were almost beyond count, with nearly every conclusion being an end to this life Aaron had made. And there was the disturbingly high possibly that Aaron would die again, not a pleasant thought.
The only reason Aaron was considering the request, he knew, was the memory of a little girl’s laugh.
“Really no choice at all,” Aaron muttered.
All it took was the conscious choice, the decision that he needed to escape. One call to his attorneys, and Aaron knew he would have been released tomorrow. But it’d been to long, and so Aaron made the decision.
The answer to his dilemma was flight, and so Aaron flew. Slowly at first, but when level with the fence Aaron flew higher. Faint cries reached his ears, and a shot rang out, though by then he was flying too fast and too high. Zooming away from his new life, Aaron made for New York City, and his old life as The Answer.
# # # # # # # # # #
The storefront café in Queens exploded into violence. People ran, panicked, as Darkhawk battled armed gangsters. Many bullets bounced off his armor, but some founds dug in, and they hurt. Darkhawk retaliated, knocking two men down with a dark force blast.
“I had thought you were on the West Coast,” said the young woman leading the gunmen. She was Allegra Bazin, daughter of late crimelord Philippe Bazin. “Fortunately, you only save me the trouble of hunting you down myself!”
Allegra’s weapon was no ordinary handgun. When the explosive shell hit Darkhawk, he crashed through the café and onto the street. From the corner of his visor, Darkhawk saw two boys in their early teens running down the street. Chris Powell had been enjoying the day with his brothers, twins Jason and Jonathan, when Allegra had attacked with her men. It’d only been by pure luck that Chris had managed to change into Darkhawk without anyone noticing, and giving his brothers the chance to escape.
“I thought this was over, Allegra,” said Darkhawk as he rushed to his feet. “Your father is dead, his operations broken up. You could have taken the chance to walk away, live your own life.”
“Oh, I decided I will.” Allegra fired another round, but Darkhawk raised his personal force field. The shell exploded harmlessly, though Darkhawk was driven back a step. “My father’s empire will become mine, and to cement my rule his enemies must die!”
That explained the attack, Darkhawk thought as he leapt forward to grapple with three of her men. Chris’ father Michael Powell was a policeman who’d had a complicated history with Philippe Bazin. It was part of the reason why Chris had singled Bazin out in Darkhawk’s war against crime. It’d been foolish to think, given past encounters, that Allegra wouldn’t try to continue the feud.
A gunshot to the back of Darkhawk’s head ricocheted off his helmet, injuring an innocent bystander. “No!” cried Darkhawk, sweeping an arm to knock two men down. The third man tried to fire again, but Darkhawk grabbed the gun and squeezed, then yanked down hard. The man’s shoulder dislocated, leaving him in extreme pain.
Stepping over the last of Allegra’s six thugs, Darkhawk approached her. “No one else is getting hurt Allegra. Maybe you, if you don’t drop that gun and surrender.”
Far from dropping the gun, Allegra smiled and fired at a nearby parked car. It exploded, obscuring the air with flames and black smoke. Allegra turned to run, hoping the distraction would buy her seconds. A future attack would take Darkhawk into account, and then she would be victorious.
“Freeze!” cried Darkhawk. He saw through the smoke, with enhanced vision, that Allegra Bazin was not doing so. From the amulet on his chest, Darkhawk unleashed a blast of dark force that struck her in the back. Full-strength would have cut her in half, this served merely to knock her to the ground.
As Allegra struggled to get up and grab her fallen gun, Darkhawk walked over and picked up the weapon. “It’s over Allegra,” said Darkhawk, oblivious to the shape flying high over his head.
# # # # # # # # # #
“I’m surprised to see you still here.”
Speedball looked up from the papers he was reading. Warbird was standing in the doorway of the office, dressed in civilian clothing. The meeting had ended over an hour ago, and most of the team had left except for Stingray, who was assigned to monitor duty.
“Just looking over some estimates for my other job,” said Speedball. “Repairing the mansion gets expensive.”
“Yeah, but luckily the government was responsible, so they’ll be footing the bill. If and when Red Skull is caught, he can reimburse them.”
“Is that why Captain America left?” asked Speedball. “To go after Red Skull on his own?”
Warbird’s grin faded. “Captain America left for his own reasons. Although if we happen to find the Red Skull, I won’t hesitate to call him.”
As Warbird was turning to walk away, Speedball from his chair. “Look, about what I said at the meeting, I’m sorry if I came off a little-”
“Heated?” Warbird turned back to look at the young man. “You saw a friend get shot and disappear. You’re worried, want her found, I get that. Trust me when I saw we’ll do everything we can to find Timeslip.”
Speedball nodded, though he still had his doubts. Not about Warbird’s sincerity, but whether their efforts would be successful. “What are you still doing here? Finishing up Chairperson duties?”
Warbird shook her head. “No, I just returned from doing some errands. Stingray asked me to relieve him early. A lunch date with the wife.”
“Ah.” Speedball glanced at the time, and realized he was famished. “I don’t suppose he’d mind if I tagged along?”
“Hurry up and change you could probably walk out with him and ask.”
For privacy reasons, few of the Avengers would enter or leave the mansion out of costume. The exceptions were those members whose identities were publicly known, or their civilian identity had legitimate reasons for being at the mansion. Back in the day, Tony Stark’s visits were never questioned, and today neither are Robbie Baldwin’s.
Minutes later, Speedball had changed and found Warbird and Stingray at the monitoring station. To his surprise however, Stingray was still in his armor and Warbird was back in costume. On the screen he saw why, a live news report of a battle in Queens.
“Suit back up and follow us,” said Warbird. “I don’t know the other guy, but the one in armor getting his helmet handed to him is Darkhawk.”
# # # # # # # # # #
Cars smoldered in the deserted street. Darkhawk crawled from a small crater, green blood visible from several patches of his armor. He saw a police car on its side, thankfully empty of bodies. That had been the first response to the disturbance, to the gunshots. Standard procedure for super-battles was to cordon off a perimeter and wait for Code Blue, the NYPD’s superhuman response division, to assess the scene.
He walked out of a nearby burnt-out building, the man that had attacked Darkhawk. Another hired gun of Allegra Bazin, no doubt, though Darkhawk didn’t recognize the man. He didn’t wear a colorful costume, instead a three-piece suit similar to what some organized criminals wore, and it’d been slightly damaged during their battle. In his hands was a large knife, held ready as he advanced on Darkhawk.
“That amulet is set into your armor,” said The Answer. “What would happen if I were to remove it?”
Darkhawk knew the answer to that question, as it had happened to him once before. Not wanting a repeat of that incident, he tried to slow his attacker down with a dark force blast. He hopped to the side, remarkably fast and agile. Darkhawk raised an arm and his grapple claw ejected, latching onto a high ledge. It retracted, lifting Darkhawk from the street, but his attacker leapt again.
When Darkhawk was tackled, the grapple claw should have been able to hold both their weight. However, the claw’s grip was dislodged, sending both men crashing to the street. They rolled, ending with Darkhawk on the bottom, desperately pushing up as the knife was inching down towards his amulet.
“Who are you?” asked Darkhawk. “How are you…so strong?”
“I’ve been called The Answer, and I’m this strong because I need to be.” As he was saying this, The Answer’s knife touched Darkhawk’s amulet, prying into the separation between it and the armor.
“Well I…need you…off!” A burst of dark force erupted from the amulet, a desperate play by Darkhawk that succeeded in hurling The Answer away. Unfortunately, as Darkhawk lay there in agony, he felt the gaping hole in his chest.
The Answer rose to his feet, made a show of brushing dirt off his tattered suit, and held up the amulet in his hand. “Hmm, I can feel the energy pulsing in this device. I’ll need to study it further to learn exactly how it works.”
“Who cares?” Allegra Bazin walked up from behind The Answer, stopped at his side, and raised her gun. “All that matters is the end of Darkhawk!”
But just before she could fire, The Answer grabbed Allegra’s and forced it straight into the air. “No, Allegra, that won’t do it. I can see it now, this thing is a shell, the man inside elsewhere, linked by this amulet.”
“Then destroy it!”
The Answer shook his head. “That will end the link, but will it destroy the man? And besides, destroyed it cannot be used. You told me want your father’s legacy, Allegra. Wasn’t this always Philippe’s desire, the armor as his ultimate weapon?”
Allegra considered the question and nodded, a large smile on her face. “Oh yes, that will do just fine. We’ll hollow him out, and sell what’s left to the highest bidder. Pick him up and let’s go.”
But as The Answer started towards Darkhawk, who at that point was attempting to crawl away, he stopped and looked up. There, in the sky, a shape was flying rapidly in their direction. “Company is on the way. We’ll need to settle for the amulet.”
The Answer grabbed Allegra Bazin about the waist, and lifted them both into the air. Because he needed them to not be seen, The Answer was able to bend light around them. They were high in the air when Warbird landed, ignorant of what direction they’d flown in.
“Darkhawk!” Warbird knelt beside the former member of the West Coast team. She placed a hand over his chest, where green fluid was gushing out. “I’m sorry, this might hurt.”
Darkhawk couldn’t help but scream when a small, concentrated burst of energy went off inside his chest. But Warbird’s action did have the desired effect, the wound was cauterized. Warbird tapped a transceiver on her person, making contact with Speedball and Stingray who were en route.
“The bad guys ran off, but Darkhawk’s in bad shape. See to things here while I take him to the mansion.”
# # # # # # # # # #
“Okay, I’m not really sure what I can do here,” said Bruce Banner.
The noted scientist stood over a semi-conscious Darkhawk, in the med-lab beneath Avengers Mansion. Standing just outside the door were Warbird, Binary, Espirita and Photon. Stingray and Speedball were also on their way back, having cleared the scene of the battle. Banner tried again to pry off Darkhawk’s helmet, but the young man was using most of his dwindled strength to prevent this.
“It doesn’t help when he’s not cooperating.” Banner sighed. “At least as a former Avenger, there’s a file I can work with.”
Photon handed him a tablet with Darkhawk’s information on the screen. “Darkhawk swaps his body with this armored form, held in stasis in a dimension called Null Space. Apparently there’s an amulet that initiates the transfer, and it also powers the armor.”
“So if we had that, you could have just recalled your body and all this damage would be gone,” Banner said to Darkhawk. “I’ll have to stabilize you until we can find the amulet, and maybe find an alternate means to do the transfer. If I could analyze and identify traces of the amulet’s energy signature, I could synthesize the effects.”
“We could probably trace the amulet that way,” said Warbird. “Binary, Photon, you say and help. Once you have something to work with, I want Binary to see about finding a trail, while Photon you try duplicate the affects with Banner’s guidance.”
The two Avengers nodded, while Espirita spoke up. “I think I may have identified who did this. Over and over Darkhawk kept saying ‘Answer’, and when I typed it into our database a file came up.”
Warbird linked her Avengers identicard with Espirita’s, sharing the file. A holographic display appeared over the card, showing a man in a purple, white-and-gold costume with very billowy sleeves. “This wasn’t the man caught on camera.”
“It is if we removed the mask.” Espirita accessed the criminal database, bringing up The Answer’s mug shot. “Aaron Nicholson. He’s been in prison, apparently powerless, but today he escaped by suddenly flying away.”
“And the first thing he does is attack Darkhawk?” Binary asked. A glance of the file made her even more confused. “He’s been in prison for longer than Darkhawk has been active. They’ve never had contact.”
Photon also glanced at the file, and nodded. “No, but on the list of associates is the late Philippe Bazin. Darkhawk’s had his share of run-ins with him. A hit arranged from beyond the grave?”
“Possibly.” Warbird closed the files. “At least it’s something to go on for now. The longer Darkhawk is away from his amulet, the more danger he’s in.”
# # # # # # # # # #
While Darkhawk was struggling with his injuries inside Avengers Mansion, Christopher Powell lay in stasis aboard a vessel within the dimension known as Null Space. The mindless body’s vitals were constantly monitored by the vessel’s automated systems, which also maintained countless spare Darkhawk android bodies.
A flash of light triggered the vessel’s automated security measures, as weapons trained on the source of the disturbance. After a quick scan, however, the weapons powered down. The intruder was human, unarmed and powerless, with traces of the amulet’s teleportation energies and was therefore classified as a guest.
“Hmph, not a very secure haven,” said the Answer. It was uncharacteristic of him to take such a risk, leaping in the unknown, but ultimately he’d decided it had to be done. Unlocking the amulet’s secrets had taken so long, and the Avengers would surely be seeking it out.
Eyeing the android bodies with curiosity, the Answer reached towards a control console. Time later for that, he decided and walked towards the stasis pods. He had eyes for the only occupied receptacle, within which Christopher Powell lay, mindless and helpless.
“Well well, if it isn’t the soon-to-be-late Darkhawk,” said the Answer. He leaned forward, closely examining the face through the glass. “Or should I say, Mr. Powell.”
Next Issue: In the second round, Darkhawk’s odds against The Answer are even worse!