The Cortes Syndicate was known throughout Latin America as a collective of murderers, traffickers and gangsters, ones who had their fingers in every criminal action between the Southern United States down to Patagonia. They owned police, they owned senators and presidents even super-heroes, nobody stood against them and lived.
“So this is the Casa de Cortes?” The Hispanic man dressed in a matador inspired costume asked as he peered at the Spanish style villa through the binoculars wrapped round his neck. “Lots of cartel muscle down there, too much for folks who own the region, they know we’re coming.”
“Possibly.” The wheezy, almost metallic sounding voice announced as the man dressed in a silver mail coat, the individual scales looking like feathers, and bird like mask stirred next to him. “If they don’t then they will when the heavy hitters crash through the front gates.”
“I almost pity them, but reform doesn’t spare anyone.” The Hispanic man stated, as the guards at the reinforced gates spun round and drew there MP5s and AK74s and pointed them into the cane fields. The two men on the bluff didn’t turn to see the approaching figure, they could feel it in the ground as something heavy took step after step towards the mansion. The men at the gate didn’t wait for their attacker to emerge from the cannabis field and instead hosed the estimated emergence point with overlapping fields of fire, confident that their enemy would fall.
They were wrong, storming out of the cane field came a metallic humanoid figure that easily stood a good eight foot tall. Not stopping until it reached the driveway, the metal man wrenched the ironwork gates off their hinges and threw them across the courtyard with ease.
“What is this thing?” One of the cartel guards asked as the machine turned its attention towards the human defenders.
“Observation: Humans have limited memory; any explanation would be forgotten when local units have their history erased.” The robot stated as it ripped through the troops with a mixture of powerful throws and showers of needle like projectiles.
“Looks like Dreadnought Zero One is tearing them to pieces, if he keeps this up there won’t be anything left for us Hell Hawk.” The Hispanic man sighed as his armoured compatriot got to his feet.
“Then my dear Matador, let us ply our trade.” The Hell Hawk coughed as he leaped off the bluff, scarlet energy radiating along his bladed arms before forming into wings that helped him glide across the road to the gate.
“Show off.” The Matador snorted as he drew a veronica lance with a steel weight and cable attached to it from the quiver on his back and threw it into the road. Slipping on a carabiner he repelled down to where the battle had been raging but was now decidedly quiet. “You could have left me one.” He spat with more than a little disappointment.
“Suggestion: Update your operating system for better performance.” The Dreadnought stated before looking at the Matador’s annoyed face. “Sarcasm of course, human operating systems are two speed only, running and dead.”
“Both of you focus, the Cortes Cartel is known to have superhuman muscle at their disposal.” Hell Hawk hissed as alarms sounded in the villa and gun turrets popped out of their balcony while more foot soldiers came pouring out of the front entrance. “Let them crash like waves on stone against us.” He added as bullets came pouring out of the villa, the Dreadnaught hunkering down and shielding its human allies with its metal body. Smiling under his mask, the Hell Hawk curved his fingers into a claw, before stepping past the Dreadnought’s bulk. As he did the gunfire stopped and the choking began as liquid fire filled the lungs of the gunners until it came rolling out of their throats.
“Truly you a devil Hell Hawk.” The Matador voiced as the Dreadnought stood up and stomped its way towards the villa entrance.
“All men are demons.” Hell Hawk answered as the two men followed the robot, only for replacement gunners to take the place of those manning the turrets despite the now burning corpses slumped on the butt of the machine guns. “I think it’s time the Cortes family learned that.” He added as a massive shadow flew over the house, diverting the focus of the defenders upwards as a bat winged wyvern flew over the house before banking round and coming in again, its taloned feet ripping open the roof and destroying the machine guns. As it flew over the attackers, its rider leapt off and landed heavily on the ground.
“Amazon have your beast keep the sky clear.” Hell Hawk ordered as the woman wearing a leather roman battle dress and helmet stood up, before drawing a massive compound bow and ivory hunting horn.
“I take no orders from you or your kind!” Amazon sneered as fire teams in the windows began to shoot down at the attackers. “Not when I was merely Katarina Van Horn and not now after I have become who I was always meant to be.” She added, as she drew the bow string back, the glittering silk summoning up a bolt of pure energy before it was released. Sailing through a window it stabbed into one of the defenders before detonating and engulfing his allies in light.
“Statement: We should be updating our position.” The Dreadnought boomed as it once again crouched into a defensive position.
“No, let them break upon us.” Hell Hawk ordered as Amazon took out the second team crouched in the windows. “Let them know that their numbers, their strength can be withstood.” He added as the door to the villa was kicked open and a man in power armour followed by a leather clad Hispanic woman walked out.
“This is my father’s house,” The woman snarled as her fingers elongated into talons, “even if you hadn’t killed our men you wouldn’t be welcome.”
“You’re the new Deathstrike.” The Matador stated as he stepped past the Dreadnought and held his veronica in a defensive position. “This will be interesting.”
“And you are the dreaded Manuel Eloganto.” Deathstrike replied. “El Dragon, deal with the others, I will kill this sadistic coward myself.”
“Like my friend Amazon, I have rebuilt myself.” The Matador answered as Deathstrike began to circle him, an evil glint in her eyes. “The bulls I killed were undeserving of death, it is the vile black blood of men that I shed now.” He added as his opponent slashed towards him, only for the Matador to dodge out the way and jabbed Deathstrike in the neck with his veronica, the blow causing her to swing round blood seeping from her neck.
“Ana do you need assistance?” El Dragon asked as he jet of flame over the Dreadnought with one hand and a salvo of fireballs with the other at Amazon and Hell Hawk, the later absorbing the heat of the projectiles, the feather like scales of his armour glowing a dull red.
“He is mine!!” Deathstrike snapped as she leapt at the Matador, her foe ducking under the blow and using his shoulder to flip her onto the floor face down. Getting to her feet, Deathstrike had enough time to see the Matador remove two banderillas from his quiver and plunge them into her back. Snarling and spitting, she got to her feet and wrenched out the pair of spears, the barbed tips of the blades ripping through flesh and skin to leave two deep wounds.
“Your family is evil beyond comparison.” The Matador lamented as Deathstrike stumbled towards him, only to swagger off course. “You are truly unlucky to be born into this clan of killers.” He added as he drew a wide bladed sword and red cape, before standing ready in a fighting stance.
“Ana are you sure you don’t need help, your father…” El Dragon hissed as he slashed out with a plasma cutting torch at the Dreadnought, the sparks arching off the robot’s armour plating.
“…my father is not here, fight your own battles not mine!” Ana ordered with a bitter tongue as she slashed out at the Matador, her talons ripping through the cloth and her targets arm leaving long deep claw marks in his flesh. At the same time, she felt something heavy thud into her back, as the Matador stabbed his sword between her shoulder blades in a quick parry.
“ANA!” El Dragon yelled as he saw Ana drop to the floor. Trying to disengage he saw his current foe the Dreadnought slam a hand into his chest-plate and start drilling through the armour.
“Error Report: Performance is sub-optimal.” The Dreadnought snorted as it dug deeper and deeper into the armour’s sub layers. “Solution: Remove inferior component designated ‘Pilot’ and recycle.” It added as the gel underlayer was penetrated. With a mighty amount of effort, El Dragon blasted the Dreadnought away from him, its armour blackened from the amount of heat he’d been able to muster.
“I’ll kill you all for what you did!” He snapped as Hell Hawk raised his claw like hand and flicked his fingers outwards, the on-board fuel tanks in El Dragon’s armour rupturing and blowing the compromised armour open revealing the now burnt pilot inside. “You think fire will stop me, I’m El Dragon, the lord of fire!!” He snarled as he got to his feet and advanced on Amazon. Rolling her eyes, Amazon gave a blow on her hunting horn and stepped back as the Wyvern swooped down and grabbed El Dragon before taking him thirty feet up and dropping him, his body landing with a sickening crunch.
“Come let us see what terror are ally within the walls has caused.” Hell Hawk ordered as the four attackers advanced on the house. As they entered Deathstrike’s body quivered as her wounds healed and she got to her feet. Her attackers had dared to stain her family home with the blood of the Cortes family’s youngest daughter, they would pay. Not even bothering to pay El Dragon’s broken body a single glance she staggered after the Reformers, her healing factor repairing the damage done by the Matador with every step.
Ramon Cortes removed the shotgun from his wall ready to defend himself when he heard the first screams of his staff ring through the house. Activating the computerised deadlock and security shutters of his office, he and his six bodyguards were effectively locked in an armoured box that would stand up to even high explosives. In short nothing was getting in without a lot of effort.
“Sir shouldn’t we be leaving?” One of the bodyguards asked.
“Let them tire themselves out, then we will execute them.” Ramon stated as he looked at the four men and two women he was locked inside with. All of them were armed to the teeth and dressed in camouflage fatigues. Perhaps this is what every dictator or strongman toppled by America’s constant interference with the area felt, after all his Syndicate was spread across nations and in some aspects was as powerful as any nation.
“Perhaps we can parley with the attackers?” One of the women stated as she holstered her pistol.
“We do not negotiate with those who have the audacity to attack us in our own home!” Ramon snapped as she saw the woman bow her head slightly, the thumb on her left hand tapping on each of her fingers. “What are you doing Trudy?” He ordered as the woman looked up before delivering a punch to the closest of his bodyguard, the blow dropping him to the floor. “She’s one of them!!” He ordered as the remaining guards moved in on the intruder. Wordlessly the intruder in question got to work, delivering a knife chop blow on the other female bodyguard, before turning and slamming both hand down hard on another bodyguard’s pistol, the shots stabbing into the floor.
“Kill her!” Ramon bellowed again, as the intruder elbow slammed the guard she was grabbling in before facing another attacker, his MP5 flashing as he emptied the magazine into her. Shuddering from the impact, the intruder double tapped her throat, her clothes melting away to reveal sleek black armour with a matching mask, long flowing black hair billowing behind her.
“Oh Ramon, you don’t know how to kill someone like me.” The armoured woman purred as she fired a bolt of energy at the gunmen before springing off the nearest wall and leaping over Ramon’s head to land feet first on the last remaining guard.
“Mujer del diablo!” Ramon snarled as he opened fire with his shotgun, the blast not even staggering the woman as she ripped the weapon from his hand and swung it at his head, the blow leaving a stinging welt on his right temple.
“No not mujer del diablo,” The woman purred as a syringe like blade popped out of the wrists of her armour, “Escopion Negro, and true to my name, my sting is deadly.” She added as she jabbed the syringe into Ramon’s arm. “That will kill you, but first you are going to go through convulsions, vomiting, a fever beyond anything you’ve ever experienced. I have an anti-venom on me, but to get it you have to play ball. Can you do that Ramon?”
“Kill me but be warned my daughter will raze your home to the ground and destroy all who shelter you before ending the hunt!” Ramon grunted as ‘Black Scorpion’ began to circle her thumbs in the palms of her hands.
“That would be a lot more terrifying if my colleagues hadn’t killed your daughter.” Black Scorpion replied blankly as she towered over Ramon. “With her dead the Cortes Syndicate dies with you, unless of course you’re willing to let any of your rivals or partners inherit all you have left.”
“Never! I would rather see my empire die then in the hands of an outsider!!” Ramon spat.
“Then let us help you destroy what you’ve built. You can start by opening the door into your office.” Black Scorpion suggested as she picked Ramon up and pushed him against his desk. Mumbling under his breath in Spanish Ramon typed in a code that caused the defences of his office to deactivate letting the other Reformers walk in.
“Good work Scorpion.” Hell Hawk wheezed as he went over and lifted Ramon’s head so he could look into his enemies eyes. “Do you know who I am Mr Ramon?”
“Some greedy gringo with a death wish!” Ramon coughed, as he saw Amazon jerk her head round, as if she’d heard a sudden noise.
“My name is Ludwig van Owen, I know you have heard of me.” Hellhawk hissed as he saw Ramon’s eyes go wide.
“So the Company catches up with me eventually.” Ramon spluttered as he shivered slightly, possibly from the effects of the scorpion venom coursing through his blood stream, but Van Owen thought, more from his reputation.
“We never lost you, I have been preoccupied becoming a new man, one who cares about this world.” Van Owen informed him. “After I saw what my protégée William Cross was willing to do to this world for his goals, I knew I had a duty to reform how justice is carried out. You were my trial run to see if my methodology could be successfully executed.”
“Observation: Hostile Virus Detected, Initiate Fire Wall.” The Dreadnought buzzed as Deathstrike sprung through the door tackling the Matador to the floor before springing off him to stand on her father’s desk.
“You three, deal with her.” Hell Hawk ordered Black Scorpion, Matador and the Dreadnought. “Amazon see that Mr Cortes falls like all those who oppose us.” He added as Amazon walked over to Ramon, picked him up by the scruff of the neck and tossed him out through the window.
“Little help here.” The Matador asked as Black Scorpion blocked a blow from Deathstrike, before attempting to deliver an electricity empowered punch to the villainess only for parts of her gauntlet to tear away as her opponent’s claws ran across the metal.
“Status Update: Virus Checker online, Fire Wall active!” The Dreadnought boomed as it ignited its flamethrowers and bathed the office in fire, the heat melting the flesh off Deathstrike’s hands to reveal metal rods and implants under her skin. Screaming and cursing in Spanish, Deathstrike leapt through the flames and stabbed into the robot’s chest. Cursing back in binary, Dreadnought surged forward and smashed through the wall to the war-torn courtyard below.
“Follow him.” Hell Hawk ordered as he siphoned the flames into his armour. Heeding his command, the remainder of his teammates descended to the ground below to where the now handless and headless Dreadnought was swinging wildly at a foe too lithe and agile for him to catch.
“You I have a special death for you!” Deathstrike hissed as she locked eyes with the Matador before leaping onto the Dreadnought’s shoulders and pouncing on her foe, claws ripping open his cheeks. With a scream Amazon waded into battle and pulled Deathstrike off her opponent before lifting her over her head and snapping her spine. Dropping her opponent, she looked at the slash marks up her arm before receiving a slash across the torso as Deathstrike’s body twisted and convulsed as her healing factor cut in again.
“Sword!” Amazon ordered, as the Matador drew his veronica and tossed his teammate his sword. Sliding in first he jammed the lancehead between the discs of her back, immobilizing his foe only to be forced to abandon his weapon by a wild thrashing slash that was directed his way. Moving in Amazon delivered a kick to the lance, the heavy head jamming in further as Deathstrike screamed in equal parts anger and pain. “This brings me no joy, but your evil to other women is well documented and you must be punished!” Amazon announced as she sliced through the skin, muscle and spinal cord of Deathstrike, the villainess collapsing.
“We have not yet finished our work here.” Hell Hawk stated as the Dreadnoughts hand and head melted into a serpent of liquid metal and slithered back to their owner. “Wirehead, do you have our prize?” He asked as the Wyvern landed in the corner before dissipating into a shower of ones-and-zeros to reveal a man dressed in a black bodysuit and a knight like helmet with a wire connecting it to a power pack on his back.
“One server farm’s worth of data all stored, although it cost me some save files.” The newcomer, Wirehead, stated as Deathstrike shuddered, reached out with her hands and ripped the lance out of her back.
“Wirehead if you would…” Hellhawk sighed as Deathstrike got back to her feet.
“Here we go.” Wirehead mumbled as Deathstrike charged him, only for two steel pillars connected by two panes of glass to spring from the ground and lock the villainess inside. Clicking his fingers multiple time, Wirehead summoned a number of coloured blocks of various shapes above the trap, before dropping them towards Deathstrike. Looking up in anger more then terror Deathstrike started climbing as blocks rained down above her with surprising speed. Dodging a falling ‘+’ shaped block Deathstrike reached the top of the blocks only for an orange portal to open above her and spit her out at the bottom of the trap, the blocks pinning her down as the portal’s dissipated.
“Now you are thinking with portals.” Wirehead mocked as he dematerialised the portal gun he’d synthesised. “Anyone object to a rapid transit out of here?” He asked, the shaking heads of his teammates a clear answer to his question.
“Ana Cortes, you are your organisation need to reform, to become better.” Hell Hawk told the struggling Deathstrike. “You have been given a chance, don’t make us come back to finish what we started.” He added as all six members of the Reformers vanished in a blue flash of light.
“That went well, I am proud of all you.” Van Owen stated as he removed his helmet to reveal a bald head dotted with liver spots and piercing yellow, almost raptor like eyes. “There is much to do, but I’m sure we can accomplish it.”
“Prior to leaving you mentioned that these small villain groups are merely the opening moves.” The Matador stated as he cleaned spinal fluid off his sword.
“There is a new Serpent Squad attacking shipping vessels in the Mid Atlantic, RAID continues to advance its fell technologies, Deathstroke and his Terminators ply their trade in Africa assassinating democratically elected leaders and Crossfire’s Crew continues to endure.” Van Owen stated as he looked at his team. “They seem strong but they are isolated, we will take what we need from them and then use their resources against the true enemy, the Conspiracy.”
“And what of recrimination or interference by the government, the Avengers even SHIELD?” Wirehead asked. “Those are some MLG players that we can’t go against.”
“The government.” Van Owen snorted as he turned away and headed out of the empty bunker. “Very soon they will be the ones funding us. America is tired of super criminals, tired of heroes who don’t pay a second thought to the lives they wreck, the damage they do. Superhumans and the way they fight need to be reformed, to be updated and we’re the people who are going to make that happen.”
Stalking off into the darkness Van Owen waited until the door was closed and looked into the inky blackness. “I assume you found the data useful?”
“Indeed, your agents are most skilled but ultimately disposable much like my old team.” A voice in the darkness stated as a tiny red cross like light appeared. “You have done well old friend, but there is much left to do.”
“Then to business I attend.” Van Owen croaked as he walked out of the room. “The reformation begins now.”
“Indeed, it does.” The figure in the darkness stated. “Your reformation will come, but it will serve my agenda, as do all who enter my service.” It added as a view screen turned on showing a number of super criminals ranging from heavy hitters like Amazon and Lodestone right down to street thugs like Spear and the Enforcer. “From the ashes of reformation, I will rise, and the world will be mine.”