Back to GatefoldIssue #7 by Daniel Ingram
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"THE BREAKOUT"
Hell’s Peak’s Interrogation Room
The merc known to the world as Hurricane did a quick mental sweep of his equipment. Both his sidearms rested at on his hips, and his shotgun and vibranium machete were in their resting places on his back. His secondary weapons, like his boot knife and the ball bearings he kept in his breast-pockets, felt present and accounted for.
Which wasn’t bad, considering that less than fifteen minutes ago, he’d been stripped of everything except his tighty whiteys.
Hurricane glanced towards Hrist, “I may have to get you to teach me this trick.”
Hrist smirked, “Of course mortal. Have you two centuries to spare?”
“Share quips later,” Mr. Raven motioned for them to follow, “we have to get out of here before Dran brings in his own army in here and slaughters us.”
“Lead the way then,” Thrill Blade said, “and hurry, because I haven’t shed nearly enough blood today.”
Mr. Raven and Scorpion exchanged a worried glance, but said nothing as they marched.
The mercenaries moved at a quickened pace. Mr. Raven led them past the cells that they’d been imprisoned, and deeper and deeper into the building itself.
“Are you positive that you know the way out?” Warcry said. She eyed the narrow walls of the corridor. If they were ambushed here, her ability to fight back without crippling her allies would have been non-existent.
“I sense a lack of trust,” Mr. Raven said.
“Maybe it’s because you set us up to be tortured,” Thrill Blade scowled, “tends to cause issues.”
“What are you complaining about?” Scorpion said, “they never even got to you, rook.”
“Principle of the matter,” Thrill Blade huffed.
“Wrong profession for that,” Warcry said under her breath.
“Trust me,” Mr. Raven said, as they turned the corner, “I know what I’m doing.”
The seven all turned the corner, only to be met by a room twenty by ten room, filled with old boxes, containers and loose debris. And a large wall, with no door to be found.
“…are you sure about that?” Scorpion said.
Shroud could feel the sharp spike of tension in his teammates, “What? What is it?”
“This fool has killed us!” Warcry snapped, “we’re boxed in!”
“No, we’re not,” Mr. Raven said simply.
“Hate to say it, but she’s right,” Hurricane glanced over his shoulder, back the way they came, “alright, I’m taking charge. Warcry, on me…”
“Ignore him,” Mr. Raven walked towards the wall, and put his hand through it, “you’ve heard of holograms before, yes?”
“Raven, down!”
Shroud tackled Mr. Raven only seconds before a dozen bullets would have torn him apart. Everyone save Hurricane threw themselves to one side of the other.
But Hurricane simply took a step to the side, and unholstered his berretta. His training told him that whomever was on the other side was simply laying down cover fire. In his mind, he worked backwards from the angles of fire, where the men were and then aimed.
He squeezed off five shots, quickly followed by several screams, and shouts to pull back. Hurricane smiled despite himself, then without bothering to look, he fired a shot at the ceiling, shattering the lone light bulb.
Almost immediately, the image of the wall faded away to reveal a giant set of steel doors, with an eight foot gap between them. Past the door was a wide common area, with twenty of Dran’s Piranhas, heavily armed and from what Hurricane could tell, digging in for a long fight.
And behind them were the Solution’s friends, the Mimics, their faces grim and hard.
Seeing that, Hurricane finally threw himself to one side.
“So I’m guessing this is a back door?” Hurricane said.
“Correct,” Mr. Raven said, “they weren’t supposed to know that we knew about this exit.”
“They likely didn’t,” Warcry said, “that force outside isn’t a fraction of what Dran could throw at us. They’re simply insurance.”
“Doesn’t matter why they’re here,” Thrill Blade said, “the longer we let them keep us here, the greater the chance we end up dead. Plan, anyone?”
“I have one…”
The seven turned their heads as one, and saw Dran standing in the center of the room behind them, arms crossed behind his back.
“Interested…?”
# # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # #
Several minutes earlier
Dran adjusted the sleeves on his suit. He examined himself in the mirror, looking for any speck of lint or cufflink out of place. Having spent years in the criminal underworld, Dran knew the importance of appearance. But where the average superhuman wore bright colored spandex, men of his caliber were expected to wear suits, to carry themselves with an air of refinement, of detached professionalism
That was why he cooled the rage that was simmering in his heart. One of his men was already dead, his business was being threatened by people who just refused to die, despite all logic.
“Ms. Hunter, have you found it yet?”
“I have sir,” his assistant, Ms. Hunter, held out a green gem, the size of a baseball, covered with gold in a web-like pattern, “our Arcane contactor called it the ‘gemstone of casting’. Combined with the runes that were placed earlier, it will allow you to communicate with anyone anywhere in the building.”
“Excellent,” Dran took the gem, “lets see if these if these lunatics can be reasoned with…”
Dran closed his eyes, concentrating on Hurricane and the others. He felt himself being pulled away, as if he was caught in a riptide before coming to an abrupt halt. He opened his eyes, and found himself looking at the men and women who’d invaded his home.
“…Plan, anyone?”
“I have one,” Dran said, “…interested?”
Dran paused, as bullets, knives and energy blasts were cast his way. Dran noted that, to their credit, it didn’t last long.
“What do you want?” Hurricane demanded.
“I have a one-time offer of amnesty,” Dran said, “I won’t ask you to lay down your weapons, I’m not that naïve. I’ll give you several methods of leaving safely, and let you decide which you intend to use.”
“Why should we believe you have anything planned other than an ambush?” Hurricane said.
“Because you are on the threshold of becoming a black hole of profit,” Dran said, “you’ve killed a valued employee whom I have to replace, to say nothing of the death benefits I now have to pay to the men who worked in interrogation. If this drags on longer, there is a risk of you killing a either well paying tenant or someone under my sworn protection.”
“So after all the blood we’ve spilled, this is just business to you?” said Hurricane.
“Here and now? Yes. That’s what this place is all about?” Dran said, “but you don’t seem to appreciate the depths of what I do here…”
“I provide relief, refuge for criminals, for organizations under constant siege from law enforcement. Do not think that because the men and women in this compound are in hiding, that they are not among some of the most dangerous people on the planet…”
Cyber drummed his fingers on the coffee table. It had been weeks since he spilled blood, and it was beginning to feel as if he couldn’t last another day more without it.
The Special Forces United of the Kree Empire nicknamed Special K examined their weapons methodically. Last night’s success had not brought pride or confidence, just the self assurance that came with a job well done. Anti-matter knives were examined, laser pistols disassembled and recharged and a rest rotation enacted.
“My services are offered to everyone, not just criminal organizations. Independent contractors whom have offended powerful people, who rely on me to keep protect them from the consequences of offending people who don’t give a damn about due process.”
Steeltrap took the mutant growth hormone inhaler, and took a deep breath. He could feel the power flowing in his veins like molten steel.
“God,” Steeltrap sighed, “if I knew the bitch could do this for me, I’d have turned her into product ages ago.”
His fellow gang members shot their leader a nervous glance. His addiction to the power enhancer had already put them on Magneto’s shit list
“But my services do not end there. There are people in this world who have fallen into tragedy, and seek to protect the world from a far greater evil, an evil that cannot be allowed in this world.”
Jiayang glanced towards the door, eying the runes placed above the threshold. There was a light green glow about them, telling her that their power was still in place, still active. She had little reason to doubt their power, but something about today bothered her. And in her ten years of mystic studies, Jiayang had learned not to ignore her instincts.
But for now, until she could place a name or source to her anxiety, she had other concerns. She sat down, across from a young women sleeping in a bed, surrounded by a circle of salt, treated incense and bones of creatures that lived centuries past.
“This is a new book I thought you might like,” Jiayang said, “the story of Babar…”
“And I provide services for governments that they would rather the world not know of. I hold enough secrets to topple no less than two dozen governments in less than twenty four hours.”
General Tier glanced at his War Wolves. There was a tension in the air, something that spoke to their werewolf senses. They could smell blood in the air, not now, but soon. So very soon.
“So if by some chance you get past the hundreds that are standing in your way, and if you somehow kill the unkillable man, you would find yourselves pariahs. You will be hunted by the government and criminals alike. The success or failure of your mission here will end the same. Death. Surrender, leave and live. Stay and die, win or lose. What say you?”
Mr. Raven narrowed his eyes at Dran.
“Hrist?” Mr. Raven said, “give our reply.”
Hrist lobbed her axe through the image of Dran, silently shattering the mystic visage.
“Damn it!” Dran dropped the stone, and snapped his head towards Hunter.
“They have refused my offer of mercy. Spread the word. Tell everyone, I want them dead! Anyone who brings me a head can stay here for the rest of their natural life. I want them dead, and anyone who makes them suffer gets a million dollar bonus!”
# # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # #
Elsewhere
“Satisfying,” Thrill Blade observed, “but not exactly helpful. That may not be their main force out there, but that’s a lot of fuckin’ bad guys.”
“Been in worse spots,” Hurricane said, “but I have a plan. Shroud, that mist of yours, you can control the density, right?”
“Right,” Shroud nodded, “hard as steel or morning dew. I guess you want me to take point?”
“I don’t need quarterback,” Hurricane said, “I need catcher. Warcry…?”
# # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # #
Even with the Mimic 5 at their back, rookie Piranha Patrick James didn’t feel terribly confident about this engagement. The men he was facing were trained professionals, and even if they fell under the weight of Hell’s Peak, they’d certainly take a few men down with them.
That was why he had an itchy trigger finger, safety off. And that was why when he saw a black mist emerging from the rear entrance, he pulled the trigger with no hesitation whatsoever.
His fellow Pirahana’s, assuming that the command to open fire, followed suit, sending hundreds of rounds flying at the mist.
“Cease fire, cease fire!” yelled the Senior Piranha. She was about to begin issuing orders, when a piercing scream cut through the air, the black fog fell, and Patrick’s world seemed to explode into shrapnel, as bullets flew backwards as if shot out of a cannon.
Patrick caught a bullet upside his left forehead, luckily nowhere near as fast as they normally traveled, and he went down. Blood poured down his scalp, and when he saw the mercenaries emerge, he went for the better part of valor.
# # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # #
Hrist was the first one out, her Godly form able to the punishment of the few who remained standing and capable of aiming.
“Raven, go right!” Hurricane barked, shotgun in hand, “I got left!”
Mr. Raven squeezed off three shots before Mimic 4, with the powers and appearance of Tigra, tackled him to the ground. In less than a blink, Mimic 4 had both of Mr. Raven’s wrists in his hands with a steel-like grip.
“Surrender and it’s a quick death,” Mimic 4 said.
“Yup,” Mr. Raven nodded his head, and suddenly Mimic 4’s powers vanished.
“What? How?”
Mr. Raven pressed his gun against Mimic 4’s head, and pulled the trigger. Wires and silica exploded outside of his skull.
“Trade secret, android.”
# # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # #
Mimic 1 summoned the form of the Incredible Hulk, and took an earth shattering step towards Hrist, the concrete underneath his feet cracking like glass.
“We beat you once, we can do it again!”
Hrist brandished her axes, “Mortal toy, you accomplished that only because I saw fit to allow it. You lack the depth and breathe of power of those you copy. Bring it, little man.”
Mimic 1 roared like the man he copied, but barely made it several feet before Hrist brought both axes swinging down, and lodged them in his chest.
“…how?” Mimic 1 could still feel the power coursing through his veins, even as it began to slip away, “you can’t…!”
“No one, not even Odin,” Hrist gripped her axes, and pulled them in separate directions. Mimic 1 split down the middle like a piece of paper, “can tell me what I can or cannot do.”
# # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # #
Mimic 3 had adopted the form of Hercules, and Hurricane found it so distracting, seeing an image of the Olympian Prince of Power overlapping that of a simple woman in a red tracksuit that he almost forgot to duck.
“Why are you doing this?” she demanded.
“Not enough time in the world to explain,” Hurricane took a few steps back. He studied the robot’s stance, and saw instantly all the hallmarks of an novice. Her stance was all wrong, she was too focused on him and not her surroundings and a dozen other little details that told Hurricane that this android didn’t see much combat.
“I’ll let you run,” Mimic 3 hissed, “this doesn’t have to end in blood.”
“Same goes for you,” Hurricane said, “but I’m not leaving.”
Hurricane found himself grateful that Mimic 3 stopped negotiating and swung a what would have been a lethal blow for his head. Polite enemies were always the hardest kill for him.
The Merc, in one fluid motion, ducking under the blow and to the left. Hurricane reached out and grabbed Mimic 3’s wrist, twisting it behind his back.
“I can disable or kill,” Hurricane said, “your choice!”
Mimic 3 said nothing, but instead tried to use the Power of Hercules to break the hold.
Hurricane could feel him trying to break, and held on. He planted his feet, and held on. Already his mind was concentrated on when Mimic 3 would break the hold, and what his next move would be.
What Hurricane had no way of knowing was that Mimic 3 could channel the power of Hercules, the strength, but he wasn’t designed to endure that power reflected back. The synthetic flesh and tempered steel simply wasn’t enough to handle it, and the arm split like a rotten twig a second later, purple, artificial blood spilling from the wound.
“…what? How…?”
Mimic 3 looked at his ruined arm, unaware of Hurricane behind him. The trained soldier, acting on reflex, dropped the now severed arm and reached for his indestructible machete. With one swing and little conscious though, he bisected the android as if he were slicing through rice paper.
“Took you long enough,” said Warcry.
Hurricane glanced at the African merc and saw that the remaining Mimics were on the ground, their eyes shattered and their eyes smoking.
“I memorized how to shatter motherboards,” Warcry explained, “everyone okay?”
“Like you really care?” Scorpion sneered, “but yeah, we’re good. Lets get to that server room.”
“Not just yet,” Thrill Blade said. He pointed to the far corner, where a stack of crates had fallen, “we’re not completely done yet.”
Thrill Blade began to stalk towards the pile, and only then could Hurricane hear someone whimpering, moaning in agony.
“Thrill Blade, leave him,” Hurricane said, “he’s disabled, no threat.”
Thrill Blade dropped his sword, creating a shrill sound as it split concrete.
“This isn’t about need,” Thrill Blade grabbed a crate, and tossed it aside with ease. Laying in the pile was a bleeding Piranha, one knee bent in a bad way. He had no firearm, no radio, nothing to Hurricane that indicated he needed killing.
“Thrill Blade, don’t!” Hurricane’s hand flew to his gun, but before he could clear the holster, Warcry had her arms around his neck in a choke hold, and his forehead was painted with a laser from Mr. Raven’s gun.
“Don’t,” Warcry whispered, “or I’ll make your brains dribble out your ear.”
Hurricane gritted his teeth and said nothing. He raised his hands in a gesture of peace despite what his heart told him. He hated needless killing, but this mission was too important for him, to lay his life down for an enemy soldier.
Instead, Hurricane just looked away, as Thrill Blade raised his sword over his head, and left it there for a moment. Then, like a royal executioner, he brought it down, ending the man.
Hurricane jerked himself free from Warcry’s grip, and gave her a deadly look.
“Done pissing around yet?” Hurricane said, “because you snuffing that red shirt doesn’t change the fact that unless we take out that server center.”
“Yeah,” Thrill Blade wiped the sweat from his brow.
“This place is huge,” Warcry turned to Mr. Raven, “you sure you know where to go?”
“Like the back of my hand. I have very reliable sources,” Mr. Raven said, “however, before we proceed, we need to take a precaution. Hrist?”
“”Oh?” Hrist paused to reflect, “oh, right, mortal. I did nearly forget.”
Hrist reached into her coat-pocket, and removed what looked to Hurricane very much like multi-colored rose petals. But Hurricane looked closer, and saw how the things in Hrist’s hands moved of their own accords. Hrist raised them to her mouth, and blew.
“What the hell is this?” Warcry said, as one petal flew through the air, one drifting at her very quickly, the others heading towards her comrades. The moment it touched her skin, it melted into her flesh like ice into a puddle.
“Uhh,” Scorpion looked at her hand, where the rose had disappeared, “what was the point of that?”
“Raven did ask for a compass to reunite us should we be separated,” Hrist explained, “those roses will direct us together again.”
“We get separated, we all die,” Hurricane said, “lets get moving.”
“I’ll lead the way,” Mr. Raven said, “Hurricane, I want you and Thrill Blade on point.”
Hurricane glanced at the mystic warrior. Thrill Blade had an expression on his face that reminded the merc of a junkie coming down off a high.
“Rookie, you are not standing behind me.”
# # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # #
Top Floor
Dran rubbed his temple as he listened to his Piranha Commander give his report. His second in command, Andi Hunter, placed a calming hand on his shoulder
“How did they even know of that exit?” Dran said, “most of the guards assigned there don’t know of it!”
“They likely interrogated someone when they broke free,” Hunter said, “how they know isn’t important. They’ve escaped containment, and likely murdered several tenants. They have to be put down!”
Dran clenched his fists, “I offered them mercy and was refused. Send down Solution. I suspect seeing his friends butchered will especially motivate him.”
# # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # #
Thrill Blade stuck his head around the corner, and glanced around.
“Clear,” Thrill Blade whispered, and motioned for everyone to move.
“Wait,” Hurricane said. He stepped around the corner, and fired his berretta once. There was a ping as it struck metal, and in the distance they could hear a body fall, “okay, now we can move.”
“Damn, maybe you should take point,” Thrill Blade said.
Hurricane glared at Thrill Blade, “I don’t make a habit of allowing junkies to stand behind me.”
“Junkie? What the hell, dude?” Thrill Blade took a step towards Hurricane, and gripped his blade, “you dam well better take that back, or…”
“Mortals,” Hrist rolled her eye, “you are both pretty. Might I suggest killing one another later, when everyone is not trying to kill us now?”
“This punk started it…!” Thrill Blade yelled over his shoulder.
Mr. Raven said nothing as he drew his weapon. In his mind, Thrill Blade was an asset that he’d already spent, a tool that no longer had any use. The man was fast becoming a liability on a mission that was already unbelievably dangerous, threatening his main asset.
“Kid, you need to step off…,” Hurricane saw something out of the corner of his eye, and tackled Thrill Blade on instinct, “everyone down!”
A blast of searing hot plasma struck the ground where Thrill Blade had been standing only moments before.
“Impressive…,” said a voice that seemed to come from nowhere, “you have good instincts, human.”
“We’re in trouble,” Shroud whispered to Mr. Raven, “I can barely sense the guy in front of us, but I can sense the battalion of assholes right behind us. We have maybe five minutes before they overwhelm us.”
“If the human stays, we’ll allow the rest of you to leave…”
The gathered mercs watched as a man de-cloaked in front of them, appearing as if from thin air. Hurricane’s tactical mind studied the man, noting the blue skin as Kree. He first thought that the man had to be part of the special forces unit Solution had introduced him to earlier.
But the man’s face didn’t match any of theirs. He was strongly built, wearing seamlessly black pants and a sleeveless white shirt. His eyes were gone, and in their place were camera lenses. Hurricane saw a metal backpack resting on his shoulders, with two pure white orbs floating above his shoulder.
His wrists were bare, except for a small gem on the outside of each palm, and on his waist rested two pistols, though Hurricane couldn’t possibly recognize the make and model.
“Alright,” Hurricane glanced over his shoulder, “you guys keep moving. I’ll be along in a minute.”
“I should hope not,” Hrist said, “it should be a contest of blood and bone, a battle for the ages!”
“…thanks,” Hurricane turned his attention to the Kree, “you got a name?”
“Apex,” replied the Alien. He tapped something on his wrist, and the two white globes on his shoulders disengaged, and floated backwards several feet, “I’ve just programmed my drones to fire on your hands if you aim a projectile weapon at us. Fight hand to hand, and they’ll let you kill us without issue.”
“Fine with me,” Hurricane moved his hand from his sidearm to his machete. The blade gleamed in the light, “lets get bloody.”
“After you, my dear.”
“…dear?”
Hurricane saw something lunge at him, but before his brain could tell him it was a threat, it slammed into his chest hard, pitching him backwards.
Hurricane landed on his ass hard, and looked up to see a green skinned woman, wrapped in white bandages, land next to Apex. It took Hurricane a second longer to recognize her skin tone and bumpy chin as that of a…
“Skrull?” Hurricane said. While he was in Special Forces, he’d only really skimmed the database of hostile aliens. All he remembered was the blue skinned guy and green skinned guys really hated one another.
“This is Alpha,” Apex said, “my wife.”
“…wife,” Hurricane repeated. He leapt to his feet, “fine, wife. ‘Till death do you part, then assholes!”
# # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # #
“He was not wrong, mortal,” Hrist said as they sprinted down the hall.
Thrill Blade simply scowled at Hrist, but said nothing.
“Thine weapon is making you it’s bitch,” Hrist said, “such a thing is plain to see.”
“I control it,” Thrill Blade said, “it’s just a weapon.”
“A weapon that must be fed with blood and passion,” said Hrist, “I see it’s bond. Do you know how far it will take you? What it’s already taken?”
Thrill Blade gripped his mystic Claymore tighter.
“I can handle it.”
“Alright,” Mr. Raven motioned for them to stop, “we’re here. Through this door is the main server center for all of Hell’s Peak. We destroy it, and Drann loses almost all of his ability to track us through his complex.”
Warcry approached the door, humming a tune that her teammates struggled to hear. The door itself was five feet across, and reached the ceiling, made of a silver, and stainless silver steel.
“It’s three inches thick, and sounds harder than titanium,” Warcry said, “Hrist, think you can bust it?’
The Fallen Goddess cracked her knuckles, “Watch me, mortal speck.”
“No she can’t,” Mr. Raven said, “what you can’t see is that the door is reinforced by supercharged ions, like the ones that give Wonder Man his strength. No one below a Hulk is getting in there anytime soon.”
Hrist brandished her axes, “Art thou trying to motivate me, Raven?”
“No, just asking for a moment,” Mr. Raven drew his pistols and fired two shots into the wall. Blood red sparks flashed for a moment, like fireworks, before Mr. Raven nodded to himself, “there, stream interrupted. Hrist, have at it.”
“Hmmph,” Hrist stomped towards the steel door, and with a single kick, sent it crashing inwards, “I am growing impatient for the glory I was promised, Mr. Raven. A mere wall is no great foe for one such as I.”
“We’ll get killed yet, just you see,” Scorpion said as they stepped into the room. The temperature dropped twenty degrees with a single step, “damn it’s freezing in here. Is that foreshadowing?”
“Servers need to be kept cool. And it’s good for other things,” Mr. Raven tapped his lenses, switching to infrared. Almost instantly, he could see a half dozen red, human shaped blobs at the other end of the room, “everyone get to cover!”
The team, save Hrist, dove behind the stacks of servers as bullets began flying. Bullets sailed freely through the air all around, and those who didn’t enjoy the good fortune of being bulletproof hunkered down as best they could.
“Do we have a plan here?” yelled Shroud, as bullets ricocheted oh so close to his heads He willed a wall of darkforce into existence in front of him, but he knew that all it would take is an unlucky
“Yes,” Mr. Raven said, “kill every Piranha while causing as much as much damage as possible, then go back and get Hurricane.”
“Finally!” Hrist stomped towards the gun fire, “a plan that just might consume us all in the blaze of glory!”
# # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # #
Hurricane swept his machete towards Alpha, but the alien woman danced away, just in time for her husband to tackle Hurricane into the wall.
Hurricane brought his elbow smashing down on the man, then knocked him away with a right hook.
Hurricane’s hand went to his sidearm, but before he could aim, Alpha leapt at him, and landed on his shoulders, her legs then wrapping around his arms like rope.
Alpha threw her body backwards, shifting all her weight while Hurricane was still off balance, and flipped him head over heels, slamming him face down into the floor.
His body wracked with pain, the merc raised his sidearm, and pulled back the hammer. Hurricane imagined that he looked rather comical, face down on the floor, both arms entangled by an alien and pointing a gun at the ceiling.
But he who had the last laugh…
“Stand down or die.”
Alpha rolled her eyes.
“You aim that at us, and my husband’s toys will take your hands, remember?”
“I don’t have to point it at you to hit you.”
Hurricane pulled the trigger, and the bullet exploded from the barrel, hit the far wall, and then ricocheted into Alpha’s arm
Stunned, Alpha release her hold and scrambled backwards like a snake, and Hurricane was on his feet in seconds.
“You should not have done that,” Apex growled, and then, in a controlled voice, said “axe.”
The gem on Apex’s wrist flashed blue, and when Apex gripped his hand closed again, it was around the handle of an axe, made of pure energy.
“Crap.”
Hurricane brought his vibranium machete up just in time to stop the blow that would have bisected him otherwise.
“You shouldn’t hurt my wife,” Apex growled, as sparks flew from his axe. Hurricane strained to hold the weapon
“And you should have minded the sight lines,” Hurricane pressed his sidearm up against Apex’s stomach, and pumped the trigger, and didn’t stop until he heard the chamber click empty.
He looked at Apex, who simply scowled.
“I wanted fist and blood,” Apex head-butted Hurricane and then smashed his elbow into the merc’s head.
Hurricane’s training took over, and he slammed a fist into Apex’s gut. Though his bullets hadn’t been enough to break skin, they left a bruise that Hurricane was all too willing to exploit.
But when Apex doubled over, Alpha flew over him, her fist connecting with Hurricane’s already abused jaw.
Hurricane fell back only a few steps before he recovered his wits and slashed at Alpha’s waist, intending to cut her in two, but could only watch as she shifted her body around the weapon, like a stick through water.
Hurricane blinked.
“Okay, I’ve fought a skrull once, and they never…”
Three right handed fists smashed into Hurricane’s jaw, followed by a kick to the ribs that bowled him over backwards.
“I am no more a mere skrull than your Mike Tyson is a mere human,” Alpha held out her hands, and Hurricane watched as white spike, roughly three inches long, slid out like a knife out of a sheath. It took him a moment to realize that he was watching bones emerge from Alpha’s hands, “husband, this one is mine. I will show him what real skrulls can do.”
Apex smiled.
“All yours, beloved.”
# # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # #
“We have intruders in the main server room,” Andi Hunter reported, “I’ve dispatched the Pirhanas and Midnight, but it may not be enough.”
Dran paced back and forth. It was bad enough that the captives had escaped, but now they were in one of the main arteries of his entire operation, and if they escaped, he would be almost completely unable to track them through his complex.
These bastards have the Devil’s luck, Dran thought.
“Sir, what should we do?”
“We include these bastards in our emergency Purge plan. Begin overloading the ion-conduit,” Dran said, “the camera servers are already a loss at this point, and we have backups for the information in other locations. But we might get lucky and kill stop these bastards here.”
Andi raised an eyebrow.
“Yes, but…what about our men?”
“If they’re not already dead, my love, they will be soon,” Dran said, “and Midnight might one day have delusions of revenge. We’re simply being pragmatic”
“Alright, I’ll let the techs know to begin…”
# # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # #
Hrist waded through the gunfire, paying it no more mind than one might a summer drizzle. To their credit, the fire teams maintained their fire as she stomped forward, ready to pop their heads like overripe grapes.
“You mortals have courage that equals that of the Gods,” Hrist pulled her axe back, readying a throw, “you are all a credit to your race.”
“Credit to your race?”
Hrist felt something smash into her chest, knocking the Goddess on her ass. She recovered quickly enough, brushing off the fog in her mind and looked up at her assailant.
Midnight assumed a fighting stance, his left hand held level in front with his right arm pulled back, ready to strike. Both hands were held flat, to emphasize the edged stainless steel tips that lay at the end of every finger.
“Do you have any idea how racist that is?”
Hrist grinned like a wolf as she stood back up.
“What makes you think I care?”
Hrist lunged forward, sweeping her axe at Midnight’s chest, but the cyborg leaned backwards, the axe brushing within a breathe of his ribs. He then sprung forward, driving his elbow into Hrist’s midsection.
As she went down, Midnight activated the rocket-jets in his right foot, propelling it forward and catching Hrist’s jaw almost perfectly.
As Hrist recoiled from the blow, Midnight caught her head in his talons, and without hesitation activated his plasma casters. Twin forces of energy blasted forth, with Hrist’s head caught in the middle. He angled his hands slightly, and the force of his blasts sent Hrist’s head snapped backwards, smashing into the metal floor, denting it as if it were made of clay.
“Had enough?”
Midnight was half certain that he’d killed her. He could think of only a handful of people who could survive what he’d just done.
But he heard a hearty chuckle from Hrist, as she sat up and wiped the blood from her mouth.
“I’ve barely started, tinker toy.”
# # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # #
Scorpion caught of two Piranhas who were trying to flank them, and willed the specially designed, cybernetic arm protector, that she affectionately named ‘the stinger’ to cover the entire length of her left arm.
The Stinger had been something cooked up in a Shield lab, designed to allow Scorpion to control her poison energy powers. It was a marvel of science, allowing her control over her powers while being able to cover the length of her arm, or retracting to the size of a watch.
But Scorpion realized that she never bothered to confirm if the thing was bullet proof.
The passageway between her, the servers and her attacks was too narrow for them to aim their assault weapons.
Their side-arms, however, was something else entirely.
Scorpion raised her left arm in front her of as she dashed at the men. The one in front squeezed off three shots, and Scorpion found that her stinger was in fact bullet proof as she felt the heavy thuds, but felt nothing tearing her flesh apart
Scorpion ensured that those three shots would be all that the man got, as she leapt forward, both knees slamming into the man’s ribs. He fell backwards, smacking into his partner and they went down in a tumble.
Without hesitation, Scorpion unleashed her venom blasts on the men, causing them to writhe in agony for a split second, before becoming far too still for Scorpion’s comfort. But with this many enemies, she didn’t bother to check for a pulse, not when there were still so many enemies left
# # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # #
Hurricane danced backwards as Alpha swept her daggers at Hurricane’s throat, but she was on him in seconds. The skrull was like a snake, lethal and quick, and one misstep would be deadly.
But staying in the defensive forever wasn’t an option either. Hurricane aimed his sidearm at the ceiling, and pulled the trigger twice. The bullets hit the ceiling as an angle, and bounced back down to the ground almost as fast as they were fired, striking the knives in Alpha’s hands, shattering them like ice on a hot pavement.
“Argh!” Alpha stepped back, eyes wide, “…you are an excellent marksman, human.”
“Beloved,” Apex said softly, “perhaps we should kill him together? This is our vacation, after all.”
The corner of Alpha’s lip curled into a smile, “You’re right, husband. I’ve been selfish.”
Hurricane knew where this was going He quickly holstered his sidearm quickly, and drew his shotgun with his left hand, pulled his machete with his right and prayed that he was good enough to pull off what he had planned next.
“Lets kill him together, like a proper couple.”
“You’re making me misty,” Hurricane said. He aimed his shotgun at Apex, “you going to try to kill me or what?”
Apex’s drone saw Hurricane level his weapon, and mindlessly executed it’s programming, aiming its laser at the hand holding the gun.
But Hurricane brought his machete up and deflected the blast towards Alpha, where it struck her in the stomach and slammed her against the wall.
“Alpha!”
Seeing his wife hurt and himself to blame, Apex hesitated for a split second, and that was the opening Hurricane needed.
He threw his machete at Apex with expert skill, and the blade sunk into the Kree’s shoulder, punching out the back.
Hurricane rushed towards Apex, and smashed the butt of his shotgun across the alien’s face, sending spittle, tooth and blood flying.
But Apex reacted like a true soldier, leaning back on his left leg, while he pulled the right back and snap kicked Hurricane in the gut.
The air exploded from Hurricane’s lungs, but he kept enough of his wits about him to reach out and grab the bottom inch of his machete’s handle, and give it a good yank.
The blade slid free as Apex fought down a scream.
“…impressive,” Apex reached into his belt, and removed a small pellet that he pressed up against his wound. A white foam exploded from the devise, covering the wound completely, “I think I am about done underestimating you, human.”
Hurricane popped his neck.
“Prove it.”
# # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # #
Shroud willed a spike of dark force towards the two Piranhas trying to get in close. They were just barely within range of his abilities, but that was close enough to slice the barrels from their rifles and forced them back.
If there was a battleground that Shroud hated more than a server bank, he couldn’t think of it. Cover was erratic at best, to the point that his vision, such as it was, struggled to find good cover. The rows of computers looked like a solid wall to how he perceived the world, though in reality he knew there were cracked and crevices where they could shoot through. Every time he lowered his field he risked a bullet to the head, but Shroud knew that they risked worse the longer they were pinned down.
As vastly outnumbered as they were, movement was life. And every second they were trapped was another inch closer to the grave.
Shroud wiped the sweat from his brow, and then stopped in his tracks, dumbstruck.
All of a sudden, the room was sweltering where it had been freezing, and the temperature was still climbing, resembling an oven, not a server room.
“Raven!” Shroud snapped, “we have a problem?”
“I know!” Mr. Raven snapped. He turned his attention towards the door, where the cables that had fed the ionic energy to the door rested. The two boxes, transformers that funneled the energy into the door, the two devises that his specially designed bullets had destroyed, were glowing white hot.
Mr. Raven recognized the tactic instantly. The two ionic transformers were still capable of receiving energy, but not dumping it. With nowhere to go, the energy would build like water in a balloon, until it exploded.
Only instead of splashing everyone with water, it would sear the flesh from their bones. That was the best case scenario.
“Shroud, can you teleport it away?” Mr. Raven said.
“I’m not Cloak,” said Shroud, “what I can store in the dark force is very limited, and doesn’t include God damn energy grenades!”
“Fine, be that way,” Mr. Raven said. He scanned the battlefield, looking for his team. If they wanted to survive, they had only one option now, and that was a long shot.
He found who he was looking for easily enough. Warcry was on the far side of the room, back pressed against a wall as bullets flew.
As if that weren’t enough, Hrist and Midnight were still locked in combat in the middle of the room, utterly ignoring the hail of gunfire.
“Warcry, we have a problem!”
“No kidding!” Warcry didn’t flinch as a bullet ricocheted past her head, but her eyes did glance in it’s direction, “any ideas?”
“Yeah, we’re about to all die!”
“Statement, not idea!”
“Door!” Mr. Raven shouted, over the gunfire, “energy, going to explode! Unless you do something!”
Warcry saw what Mr. Raven was pointing at, and did a double take. And then, naturally said,
“Well, what the hell am I supposed to do about that?”
“Narrow sonic scream,” said Mr. Raven, “then…ugh!”
Warcry watched in horror as Mr. Raven slowly slumped to the ground. A lucky shot had clipped his head, and she could see…sparks?
“Raven? You dead?”
Mr. Raven grunted, “Not yet. Narrow sonic beam, send the ionic energy outwards. Like letting air out of a balloon.”
“What, you a scientist or something?”
“Or something!” Mr. Raven snapped, “do it or we’re dead!”
Warcry, rather than retort, took a deep breath. What she was about to attempt would be the most complicated use of her sonic abilities yet, and the whistles on her throat wouldn’t be able to help one.
She started whistling, focusing the tremble of her sonic abilities, and sending a low pulse of her sonic scream towards the first ionic transformer. As the metal of the devise shook from the pulse, Warcry listened, and in her mind formed a mental map of it’s structure, flaws and strengths.
Warcry had more than a 3-D image of the devise in her mind, she had a complete blue print in her mind, though damned if she could understand any of it. All she could sense was where it was weak, where it was strong and how much of her own strength it would take to break.
Which, because Fate was a damned fickle bitch, was about all of it.
“Shroud,” Warcry shouted, “the second I stop screaming, raise a field, okay?”
“Got it!” said Shroud, though he had doubts that he could generate one strong enough.
“Okay,” Warcry blinked the sweat from her eye. She knew the risks involved. And though she wasn’t afraid to die, she didn’t want to die just, “here goes…everything.”
Warcry screamed.
The ionic transformers scattered.
# # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # #
Several minutes earlier
Apex ducked under a swing from Hurricane’s machete, and swung his right knee up as he leapt forward, slamming it into Hurricane’s gut.
With his enemy so close, the merc realized he didn’t have enough room to maneuver his blade to slice the alien in two, so instead he retaliated by slamming his right hand, still holding his machete into Apex’s stomach, and followed through by swinging his left elbow into the Kree’s face, sending blood and spittle flying.
His enemy stunned, Hurricane used that split second to bring his machete swinging down, intent on removing the elbow that he had already wounded.
But Apex was too quick, stepping to the side and responding with a head-butt that made Hurricane see stars, and then ducked under the left hook Hurricane unleashed on instinct. Apex slipped behind him with the grace of a jungle cat, and wrapping both arms around Hurricane’s waist.
He lifted the Hurricane up and over, sending him crashing to the ground in a painful arc. As his back slammed into the concrete of the floor, Hurricane’s vibranium machete slipped from his hand and skittered just a few feet out of reach.
Both men scrambled to their feet, but Apex was a split second faster. He pulled his fist back and connected with a haymaker that snapped Hurricane’s head to the side.
Hurricane responded with a left backhand that clipped Apex’s jaw, and followed up by bringing his right wrist smashing down on Apex’s shoulder. Apex fell to one knee, and Hurricane grabbed him by the throat, and smashed him against the wall.
“Stand down and we can go our separate ways,” Hurricane growled, “just say the word!”
“Gauntlet.”
A burst of blue light exploded from Apex’s hands, and Hurricane staggered backwards, just barely avoiding a swing that would have taken his head off.
Hurricane’s vision cleared quickly, and he swallowed hard when he saw that Apex now apparently had spiked boxing gloves over his fists.
“That is so not fair,” Hurricane muttered.
His hands flew to his sidearm, and before Apex could take a step forward, Hurricane uploaded the full clip at the Kree’s face.
Apex crossed his hands over his face, blocking the bullets, just as Hurricane expected. He dropped the gun without ceremony and lunged towards Apex, swinging his fist into where he’d shot the man earlier, hitting with all his strength.
The blow lifted Apex an inch off his feet and stunned him just long enough for Hurricane to get behind the man, and pin his arms.
“Last chance…!” Hurricane’s mouth snapped shut when he felt the floor beginning to rumble. He caught a glimpse of bright orange light out of the corner of his eye, and swiveled his head to get a look.
Hurricane’s conscious mind had no idea what he saw.
But his unconscious mind saw a wall of flame barreling towards them like a runaway train. Acting on instinct, Hurricane swung Apex towards the rushing wall of energy, and turned his head away, praying to God for mercy he knew he would never again deserve.
The energy washed over them, followed immediately by screams, his and Apex mingled together, then…
…darkness.
Next issue: ?
Hell’s Peak’s Interrogation Room
The merc known to the world as Hurricane did a quick mental sweep of his equipment. Both his sidearms rested at on his hips, and his shotgun and vibranium machete were in their resting places on his back. His secondary weapons, like his boot knife and the ball bearings he kept in his breast-pockets, felt present and accounted for.
Which wasn’t bad, considering that less than fifteen minutes ago, he’d been stripped of everything except his tighty whiteys.
Hurricane glanced towards Hrist, “I may have to get you to teach me this trick.”
Hrist smirked, “Of course mortal. Have you two centuries to spare?”
“Share quips later,” Mr. Raven motioned for them to follow, “we have to get out of here before Dran brings in his own army in here and slaughters us.”
“Lead the way then,” Thrill Blade said, “and hurry, because I haven’t shed nearly enough blood today.”
Mr. Raven and Scorpion exchanged a worried glance, but said nothing as they marched.
The mercenaries moved at a quickened pace. Mr. Raven led them past the cells that they’d been imprisoned, and deeper and deeper into the building itself.
“Are you positive that you know the way out?” Warcry said. She eyed the narrow walls of the corridor. If they were ambushed here, her ability to fight back without crippling her allies would have been non-existent.
“I sense a lack of trust,” Mr. Raven said.
“Maybe it’s because you set us up to be tortured,” Thrill Blade scowled, “tends to cause issues.”
“What are you complaining about?” Scorpion said, “they never even got to you, rook.”
“Principle of the matter,” Thrill Blade huffed.
“Wrong profession for that,” Warcry said under her breath.
“Trust me,” Mr. Raven said, as they turned the corner, “I know what I’m doing.”
The seven all turned the corner, only to be met by a room twenty by ten room, filled with old boxes, containers and loose debris. And a large wall, with no door to be found.
“…are you sure about that?” Scorpion said.
Shroud could feel the sharp spike of tension in his teammates, “What? What is it?”
“This fool has killed us!” Warcry snapped, “we’re boxed in!”
“No, we’re not,” Mr. Raven said simply.
“Hate to say it, but she’s right,” Hurricane glanced over his shoulder, back the way they came, “alright, I’m taking charge. Warcry, on me…”
“Ignore him,” Mr. Raven walked towards the wall, and put his hand through it, “you’ve heard of holograms before, yes?”
“Raven, down!”
Shroud tackled Mr. Raven only seconds before a dozen bullets would have torn him apart. Everyone save Hurricane threw themselves to one side of the other.
But Hurricane simply took a step to the side, and unholstered his berretta. His training told him that whomever was on the other side was simply laying down cover fire. In his mind, he worked backwards from the angles of fire, where the men were and then aimed.
He squeezed off five shots, quickly followed by several screams, and shouts to pull back. Hurricane smiled despite himself, then without bothering to look, he fired a shot at the ceiling, shattering the lone light bulb.
Almost immediately, the image of the wall faded away to reveal a giant set of steel doors, with an eight foot gap between them. Past the door was a wide common area, with twenty of Dran’s Piranhas, heavily armed and from what Hurricane could tell, digging in for a long fight.
And behind them were the Solution’s friends, the Mimics, their faces grim and hard.
Seeing that, Hurricane finally threw himself to one side.
“So I’m guessing this is a back door?” Hurricane said.
“Correct,” Mr. Raven said, “they weren’t supposed to know that we knew about this exit.”
“They likely didn’t,” Warcry said, “that force outside isn’t a fraction of what Dran could throw at us. They’re simply insurance.”
“Doesn’t matter why they’re here,” Thrill Blade said, “the longer we let them keep us here, the greater the chance we end up dead. Plan, anyone?”
“I have one…”
The seven turned their heads as one, and saw Dran standing in the center of the room behind them, arms crossed behind his back.
“Interested…?”
# # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # #
Several minutes earlier
Dran adjusted the sleeves on his suit. He examined himself in the mirror, looking for any speck of lint or cufflink out of place. Having spent years in the criminal underworld, Dran knew the importance of appearance. But where the average superhuman wore bright colored spandex, men of his caliber were expected to wear suits, to carry themselves with an air of refinement, of detached professionalism
That was why he cooled the rage that was simmering in his heart. One of his men was already dead, his business was being threatened by people who just refused to die, despite all logic.
“Ms. Hunter, have you found it yet?”
“I have sir,” his assistant, Ms. Hunter, held out a green gem, the size of a baseball, covered with gold in a web-like pattern, “our Arcane contactor called it the ‘gemstone of casting’. Combined with the runes that were placed earlier, it will allow you to communicate with anyone anywhere in the building.”
“Excellent,” Dran took the gem, “lets see if these if these lunatics can be reasoned with…”
Dran closed his eyes, concentrating on Hurricane and the others. He felt himself being pulled away, as if he was caught in a riptide before coming to an abrupt halt. He opened his eyes, and found himself looking at the men and women who’d invaded his home.
“…Plan, anyone?”
“I have one,” Dran said, “…interested?”
Dran paused, as bullets, knives and energy blasts were cast his way. Dran noted that, to their credit, it didn’t last long.
“What do you want?” Hurricane demanded.
“I have a one-time offer of amnesty,” Dran said, “I won’t ask you to lay down your weapons, I’m not that naïve. I’ll give you several methods of leaving safely, and let you decide which you intend to use.”
“Why should we believe you have anything planned other than an ambush?” Hurricane said.
“Because you are on the threshold of becoming a black hole of profit,” Dran said, “you’ve killed a valued employee whom I have to replace, to say nothing of the death benefits I now have to pay to the men who worked in interrogation. If this drags on longer, there is a risk of you killing a either well paying tenant or someone under my sworn protection.”
“So after all the blood we’ve spilled, this is just business to you?” said Hurricane.
“Here and now? Yes. That’s what this place is all about?” Dran said, “but you don’t seem to appreciate the depths of what I do here…”
“I provide relief, refuge for criminals, for organizations under constant siege from law enforcement. Do not think that because the men and women in this compound are in hiding, that they are not among some of the most dangerous people on the planet…”
Cyber drummed his fingers on the coffee table. It had been weeks since he spilled blood, and it was beginning to feel as if he couldn’t last another day more without it.
The Special Forces United of the Kree Empire nicknamed Special K examined their weapons methodically. Last night’s success had not brought pride or confidence, just the self assurance that came with a job well done. Anti-matter knives were examined, laser pistols disassembled and recharged and a rest rotation enacted.
“My services are offered to everyone, not just criminal organizations. Independent contractors whom have offended powerful people, who rely on me to keep protect them from the consequences of offending people who don’t give a damn about due process.”
Steeltrap took the mutant growth hormone inhaler, and took a deep breath. He could feel the power flowing in his veins like molten steel.
“God,” Steeltrap sighed, “if I knew the bitch could do this for me, I’d have turned her into product ages ago.”
His fellow gang members shot their leader a nervous glance. His addiction to the power enhancer had already put them on Magneto’s shit list
“But my services do not end there. There are people in this world who have fallen into tragedy, and seek to protect the world from a far greater evil, an evil that cannot be allowed in this world.”
Jiayang glanced towards the door, eying the runes placed above the threshold. There was a light green glow about them, telling her that their power was still in place, still active. She had little reason to doubt their power, but something about today bothered her. And in her ten years of mystic studies, Jiayang had learned not to ignore her instincts.
But for now, until she could place a name or source to her anxiety, she had other concerns. She sat down, across from a young women sleeping in a bed, surrounded by a circle of salt, treated incense and bones of creatures that lived centuries past.
“This is a new book I thought you might like,” Jiayang said, “the story of Babar…”
“And I provide services for governments that they would rather the world not know of. I hold enough secrets to topple no less than two dozen governments in less than twenty four hours.”
General Tier glanced at his War Wolves. There was a tension in the air, something that spoke to their werewolf senses. They could smell blood in the air, not now, but soon. So very soon.
“So if by some chance you get past the hundreds that are standing in your way, and if you somehow kill the unkillable man, you would find yourselves pariahs. You will be hunted by the government and criminals alike. The success or failure of your mission here will end the same. Death. Surrender, leave and live. Stay and die, win or lose. What say you?”
Mr. Raven narrowed his eyes at Dran.
“Hrist?” Mr. Raven said, “give our reply.”
Hrist lobbed her axe through the image of Dran, silently shattering the mystic visage.
“Damn it!” Dran dropped the stone, and snapped his head towards Hunter.
“They have refused my offer of mercy. Spread the word. Tell everyone, I want them dead! Anyone who brings me a head can stay here for the rest of their natural life. I want them dead, and anyone who makes them suffer gets a million dollar bonus!”
# # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # #
Elsewhere
“Satisfying,” Thrill Blade observed, “but not exactly helpful. That may not be their main force out there, but that’s a lot of fuckin’ bad guys.”
“Been in worse spots,” Hurricane said, “but I have a plan. Shroud, that mist of yours, you can control the density, right?”
“Right,” Shroud nodded, “hard as steel or morning dew. I guess you want me to take point?”
“I don’t need quarterback,” Hurricane said, “I need catcher. Warcry…?”
# # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # #
Even with the Mimic 5 at their back, rookie Piranha Patrick James didn’t feel terribly confident about this engagement. The men he was facing were trained professionals, and even if they fell under the weight of Hell’s Peak, they’d certainly take a few men down with them.
That was why he had an itchy trigger finger, safety off. And that was why when he saw a black mist emerging from the rear entrance, he pulled the trigger with no hesitation whatsoever.
His fellow Pirahana’s, assuming that the command to open fire, followed suit, sending hundreds of rounds flying at the mist.
“Cease fire, cease fire!” yelled the Senior Piranha. She was about to begin issuing orders, when a piercing scream cut through the air, the black fog fell, and Patrick’s world seemed to explode into shrapnel, as bullets flew backwards as if shot out of a cannon.
Patrick caught a bullet upside his left forehead, luckily nowhere near as fast as they normally traveled, and he went down. Blood poured down his scalp, and when he saw the mercenaries emerge, he went for the better part of valor.
# # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # #
Hrist was the first one out, her Godly form able to the punishment of the few who remained standing and capable of aiming.
“Raven, go right!” Hurricane barked, shotgun in hand, “I got left!”
Mr. Raven squeezed off three shots before Mimic 4, with the powers and appearance of Tigra, tackled him to the ground. In less than a blink, Mimic 4 had both of Mr. Raven’s wrists in his hands with a steel-like grip.
“Surrender and it’s a quick death,” Mimic 4 said.
“Yup,” Mr. Raven nodded his head, and suddenly Mimic 4’s powers vanished.
“What? How?”
Mr. Raven pressed his gun against Mimic 4’s head, and pulled the trigger. Wires and silica exploded outside of his skull.
“Trade secret, android.”
# # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # #
Mimic 1 summoned the form of the Incredible Hulk, and took an earth shattering step towards Hrist, the concrete underneath his feet cracking like glass.
“We beat you once, we can do it again!”
Hrist brandished her axes, “Mortal toy, you accomplished that only because I saw fit to allow it. You lack the depth and breathe of power of those you copy. Bring it, little man.”
Mimic 1 roared like the man he copied, but barely made it several feet before Hrist brought both axes swinging down, and lodged them in his chest.
“…how?” Mimic 1 could still feel the power coursing through his veins, even as it began to slip away, “you can’t…!”
“No one, not even Odin,” Hrist gripped her axes, and pulled them in separate directions. Mimic 1 split down the middle like a piece of paper, “can tell me what I can or cannot do.”
# # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # #
Mimic 3 had adopted the form of Hercules, and Hurricane found it so distracting, seeing an image of the Olympian Prince of Power overlapping that of a simple woman in a red tracksuit that he almost forgot to duck.
“Why are you doing this?” she demanded.
“Not enough time in the world to explain,” Hurricane took a few steps back. He studied the robot’s stance, and saw instantly all the hallmarks of an novice. Her stance was all wrong, she was too focused on him and not her surroundings and a dozen other little details that told Hurricane that this android didn’t see much combat.
“I’ll let you run,” Mimic 3 hissed, “this doesn’t have to end in blood.”
“Same goes for you,” Hurricane said, “but I’m not leaving.”
Hurricane found himself grateful that Mimic 3 stopped negotiating and swung a what would have been a lethal blow for his head. Polite enemies were always the hardest kill for him.
The Merc, in one fluid motion, ducking under the blow and to the left. Hurricane reached out and grabbed Mimic 3’s wrist, twisting it behind his back.
“I can disable or kill,” Hurricane said, “your choice!”
Mimic 3 said nothing, but instead tried to use the Power of Hercules to break the hold.
Hurricane could feel him trying to break, and held on. He planted his feet, and held on. Already his mind was concentrated on when Mimic 3 would break the hold, and what his next move would be.
What Hurricane had no way of knowing was that Mimic 3 could channel the power of Hercules, the strength, but he wasn’t designed to endure that power reflected back. The synthetic flesh and tempered steel simply wasn’t enough to handle it, and the arm split like a rotten twig a second later, purple, artificial blood spilling from the wound.
“…what? How…?”
Mimic 3 looked at his ruined arm, unaware of Hurricane behind him. The trained soldier, acting on reflex, dropped the now severed arm and reached for his indestructible machete. With one swing and little conscious though, he bisected the android as if he were slicing through rice paper.
“Took you long enough,” said Warcry.
Hurricane glanced at the African merc and saw that the remaining Mimics were on the ground, their eyes shattered and their eyes smoking.
“I memorized how to shatter motherboards,” Warcry explained, “everyone okay?”
“Like you really care?” Scorpion sneered, “but yeah, we’re good. Lets get to that server room.”
“Not just yet,” Thrill Blade said. He pointed to the far corner, where a stack of crates had fallen, “we’re not completely done yet.”
Thrill Blade began to stalk towards the pile, and only then could Hurricane hear someone whimpering, moaning in agony.
“Thrill Blade, leave him,” Hurricane said, “he’s disabled, no threat.”
Thrill Blade dropped his sword, creating a shrill sound as it split concrete.
“This isn’t about need,” Thrill Blade grabbed a crate, and tossed it aside with ease. Laying in the pile was a bleeding Piranha, one knee bent in a bad way. He had no firearm, no radio, nothing to Hurricane that indicated he needed killing.
“Thrill Blade, don’t!” Hurricane’s hand flew to his gun, but before he could clear the holster, Warcry had her arms around his neck in a choke hold, and his forehead was painted with a laser from Mr. Raven’s gun.
“Don’t,” Warcry whispered, “or I’ll make your brains dribble out your ear.”
Hurricane gritted his teeth and said nothing. He raised his hands in a gesture of peace despite what his heart told him. He hated needless killing, but this mission was too important for him, to lay his life down for an enemy soldier.
Instead, Hurricane just looked away, as Thrill Blade raised his sword over his head, and left it there for a moment. Then, like a royal executioner, he brought it down, ending the man.
Hurricane jerked himself free from Warcry’s grip, and gave her a deadly look.
“Done pissing around yet?” Hurricane said, “because you snuffing that red shirt doesn’t change the fact that unless we take out that server center.”
“Yeah,” Thrill Blade wiped the sweat from his brow.
“This place is huge,” Warcry turned to Mr. Raven, “you sure you know where to go?”
“Like the back of my hand. I have very reliable sources,” Mr. Raven said, “however, before we proceed, we need to take a precaution. Hrist?”
“”Oh?” Hrist paused to reflect, “oh, right, mortal. I did nearly forget.”
Hrist reached into her coat-pocket, and removed what looked to Hurricane very much like multi-colored rose petals. But Hurricane looked closer, and saw how the things in Hrist’s hands moved of their own accords. Hrist raised them to her mouth, and blew.
“What the hell is this?” Warcry said, as one petal flew through the air, one drifting at her very quickly, the others heading towards her comrades. The moment it touched her skin, it melted into her flesh like ice into a puddle.
“Uhh,” Scorpion looked at her hand, where the rose had disappeared, “what was the point of that?”
“Raven did ask for a compass to reunite us should we be separated,” Hrist explained, “those roses will direct us together again.”
“We get separated, we all die,” Hurricane said, “lets get moving.”
“I’ll lead the way,” Mr. Raven said, “Hurricane, I want you and Thrill Blade on point.”
Hurricane glanced at the mystic warrior. Thrill Blade had an expression on his face that reminded the merc of a junkie coming down off a high.
“Rookie, you are not standing behind me.”
# # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # #
Top Floor
Dran rubbed his temple as he listened to his Piranha Commander give his report. His second in command, Andi Hunter, placed a calming hand on his shoulder
“How did they even know of that exit?” Dran said, “most of the guards assigned there don’t know of it!”
“They likely interrogated someone when they broke free,” Hunter said, “how they know isn’t important. They’ve escaped containment, and likely murdered several tenants. They have to be put down!”
Dran clenched his fists, “I offered them mercy and was refused. Send down Solution. I suspect seeing his friends butchered will especially motivate him.”
# # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # #
Thrill Blade stuck his head around the corner, and glanced around.
“Clear,” Thrill Blade whispered, and motioned for everyone to move.
“Wait,” Hurricane said. He stepped around the corner, and fired his berretta once. There was a ping as it struck metal, and in the distance they could hear a body fall, “okay, now we can move.”
“Damn, maybe you should take point,” Thrill Blade said.
Hurricane glared at Thrill Blade, “I don’t make a habit of allowing junkies to stand behind me.”
“Junkie? What the hell, dude?” Thrill Blade took a step towards Hurricane, and gripped his blade, “you dam well better take that back, or…”
“Mortals,” Hrist rolled her eye, “you are both pretty. Might I suggest killing one another later, when everyone is not trying to kill us now?”
“This punk started it…!” Thrill Blade yelled over his shoulder.
Mr. Raven said nothing as he drew his weapon. In his mind, Thrill Blade was an asset that he’d already spent, a tool that no longer had any use. The man was fast becoming a liability on a mission that was already unbelievably dangerous, threatening his main asset.
“Kid, you need to step off…,” Hurricane saw something out of the corner of his eye, and tackled Thrill Blade on instinct, “everyone down!”
A blast of searing hot plasma struck the ground where Thrill Blade had been standing only moments before.
“Impressive…,” said a voice that seemed to come from nowhere, “you have good instincts, human.”
“We’re in trouble,” Shroud whispered to Mr. Raven, “I can barely sense the guy in front of us, but I can sense the battalion of assholes right behind us. We have maybe five minutes before they overwhelm us.”
“If the human stays, we’ll allow the rest of you to leave…”
The gathered mercs watched as a man de-cloaked in front of them, appearing as if from thin air. Hurricane’s tactical mind studied the man, noting the blue skin as Kree. He first thought that the man had to be part of the special forces unit Solution had introduced him to earlier.
But the man’s face didn’t match any of theirs. He was strongly built, wearing seamlessly black pants and a sleeveless white shirt. His eyes were gone, and in their place were camera lenses. Hurricane saw a metal backpack resting on his shoulders, with two pure white orbs floating above his shoulder.
His wrists were bare, except for a small gem on the outside of each palm, and on his waist rested two pistols, though Hurricane couldn’t possibly recognize the make and model.
“Alright,” Hurricane glanced over his shoulder, “you guys keep moving. I’ll be along in a minute.”
“I should hope not,” Hrist said, “it should be a contest of blood and bone, a battle for the ages!”
“…thanks,” Hurricane turned his attention to the Kree, “you got a name?”
“Apex,” replied the Alien. He tapped something on his wrist, and the two white globes on his shoulders disengaged, and floated backwards several feet, “I’ve just programmed my drones to fire on your hands if you aim a projectile weapon at us. Fight hand to hand, and they’ll let you kill us without issue.”
“Fine with me,” Hurricane moved his hand from his sidearm to his machete. The blade gleamed in the light, “lets get bloody.”
“After you, my dear.”
“…dear?”
Hurricane saw something lunge at him, but before his brain could tell him it was a threat, it slammed into his chest hard, pitching him backwards.
Hurricane landed on his ass hard, and looked up to see a green skinned woman, wrapped in white bandages, land next to Apex. It took Hurricane a second longer to recognize her skin tone and bumpy chin as that of a…
“Skrull?” Hurricane said. While he was in Special Forces, he’d only really skimmed the database of hostile aliens. All he remembered was the blue skinned guy and green skinned guys really hated one another.
“This is Alpha,” Apex said, “my wife.”
“…wife,” Hurricane repeated. He leapt to his feet, “fine, wife. ‘Till death do you part, then assholes!”
# # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # #
“He was not wrong, mortal,” Hrist said as they sprinted down the hall.
Thrill Blade simply scowled at Hrist, but said nothing.
“Thine weapon is making you it’s bitch,” Hrist said, “such a thing is plain to see.”
“I control it,” Thrill Blade said, “it’s just a weapon.”
“A weapon that must be fed with blood and passion,” said Hrist, “I see it’s bond. Do you know how far it will take you? What it’s already taken?”
Thrill Blade gripped his mystic Claymore tighter.
“I can handle it.”
“Alright,” Mr. Raven motioned for them to stop, “we’re here. Through this door is the main server center for all of Hell’s Peak. We destroy it, and Drann loses almost all of his ability to track us through his complex.”
Warcry approached the door, humming a tune that her teammates struggled to hear. The door itself was five feet across, and reached the ceiling, made of a silver, and stainless silver steel.
“It’s three inches thick, and sounds harder than titanium,” Warcry said, “Hrist, think you can bust it?’
The Fallen Goddess cracked her knuckles, “Watch me, mortal speck.”
“No she can’t,” Mr. Raven said, “what you can’t see is that the door is reinforced by supercharged ions, like the ones that give Wonder Man his strength. No one below a Hulk is getting in there anytime soon.”
Hrist brandished her axes, “Art thou trying to motivate me, Raven?”
“No, just asking for a moment,” Mr. Raven drew his pistols and fired two shots into the wall. Blood red sparks flashed for a moment, like fireworks, before Mr. Raven nodded to himself, “there, stream interrupted. Hrist, have at it.”
“Hmmph,” Hrist stomped towards the steel door, and with a single kick, sent it crashing inwards, “I am growing impatient for the glory I was promised, Mr. Raven. A mere wall is no great foe for one such as I.”
“We’ll get killed yet, just you see,” Scorpion said as they stepped into the room. The temperature dropped twenty degrees with a single step, “damn it’s freezing in here. Is that foreshadowing?”
“Servers need to be kept cool. And it’s good for other things,” Mr. Raven tapped his lenses, switching to infrared. Almost instantly, he could see a half dozen red, human shaped blobs at the other end of the room, “everyone get to cover!”
The team, save Hrist, dove behind the stacks of servers as bullets began flying. Bullets sailed freely through the air all around, and those who didn’t enjoy the good fortune of being bulletproof hunkered down as best they could.
“Do we have a plan here?” yelled Shroud, as bullets ricocheted oh so close to his heads He willed a wall of darkforce into existence in front of him, but he knew that all it would take is an unlucky
“Yes,” Mr. Raven said, “kill every Piranha while causing as much as much damage as possible, then go back and get Hurricane.”
“Finally!” Hrist stomped towards the gun fire, “a plan that just might consume us all in the blaze of glory!”
# # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # #
Hurricane swept his machete towards Alpha, but the alien woman danced away, just in time for her husband to tackle Hurricane into the wall.
Hurricane brought his elbow smashing down on the man, then knocked him away with a right hook.
Hurricane’s hand went to his sidearm, but before he could aim, Alpha leapt at him, and landed on his shoulders, her legs then wrapping around his arms like rope.
Alpha threw her body backwards, shifting all her weight while Hurricane was still off balance, and flipped him head over heels, slamming him face down into the floor.
His body wracked with pain, the merc raised his sidearm, and pulled back the hammer. Hurricane imagined that he looked rather comical, face down on the floor, both arms entangled by an alien and pointing a gun at the ceiling.
But he who had the last laugh…
“Stand down or die.”
Alpha rolled her eyes.
“You aim that at us, and my husband’s toys will take your hands, remember?”
“I don’t have to point it at you to hit you.”
Hurricane pulled the trigger, and the bullet exploded from the barrel, hit the far wall, and then ricocheted into Alpha’s arm
Stunned, Alpha release her hold and scrambled backwards like a snake, and Hurricane was on his feet in seconds.
“You should not have done that,” Apex growled, and then, in a controlled voice, said “axe.”
The gem on Apex’s wrist flashed blue, and when Apex gripped his hand closed again, it was around the handle of an axe, made of pure energy.
“Crap.”
Hurricane brought his vibranium machete up just in time to stop the blow that would have bisected him otherwise.
“You shouldn’t hurt my wife,” Apex growled, as sparks flew from his axe. Hurricane strained to hold the weapon
“And you should have minded the sight lines,” Hurricane pressed his sidearm up against Apex’s stomach, and pumped the trigger, and didn’t stop until he heard the chamber click empty.
He looked at Apex, who simply scowled.
“I wanted fist and blood,” Apex head-butted Hurricane and then smashed his elbow into the merc’s head.
Hurricane’s training took over, and he slammed a fist into Apex’s gut. Though his bullets hadn’t been enough to break skin, they left a bruise that Hurricane was all too willing to exploit.
But when Apex doubled over, Alpha flew over him, her fist connecting with Hurricane’s already abused jaw.
Hurricane fell back only a few steps before he recovered his wits and slashed at Alpha’s waist, intending to cut her in two, but could only watch as she shifted her body around the weapon, like a stick through water.
Hurricane blinked.
“Okay, I’ve fought a skrull once, and they never…”
Three right handed fists smashed into Hurricane’s jaw, followed by a kick to the ribs that bowled him over backwards.
“I am no more a mere skrull than your Mike Tyson is a mere human,” Alpha held out her hands, and Hurricane watched as white spike, roughly three inches long, slid out like a knife out of a sheath. It took him a moment to realize that he was watching bones emerge from Alpha’s hands, “husband, this one is mine. I will show him what real skrulls can do.”
Apex smiled.
“All yours, beloved.”
# # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # #
“We have intruders in the main server room,” Andi Hunter reported, “I’ve dispatched the Pirhanas and Midnight, but it may not be enough.”
Dran paced back and forth. It was bad enough that the captives had escaped, but now they were in one of the main arteries of his entire operation, and if they escaped, he would be almost completely unable to track them through his complex.
These bastards have the Devil’s luck, Dran thought.
“Sir, what should we do?”
“We include these bastards in our emergency Purge plan. Begin overloading the ion-conduit,” Dran said, “the camera servers are already a loss at this point, and we have backups for the information in other locations. But we might get lucky and kill stop these bastards here.”
Andi raised an eyebrow.
“Yes, but…what about our men?”
“If they’re not already dead, my love, they will be soon,” Dran said, “and Midnight might one day have delusions of revenge. We’re simply being pragmatic”
“Alright, I’ll let the techs know to begin…”
# # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # #
Hrist waded through the gunfire, paying it no more mind than one might a summer drizzle. To their credit, the fire teams maintained their fire as she stomped forward, ready to pop their heads like overripe grapes.
“You mortals have courage that equals that of the Gods,” Hrist pulled her axe back, readying a throw, “you are all a credit to your race.”
“Credit to your race?”
Hrist felt something smash into her chest, knocking the Goddess on her ass. She recovered quickly enough, brushing off the fog in her mind and looked up at her assailant.
Midnight assumed a fighting stance, his left hand held level in front with his right arm pulled back, ready to strike. Both hands were held flat, to emphasize the edged stainless steel tips that lay at the end of every finger.
“Do you have any idea how racist that is?”
Hrist grinned like a wolf as she stood back up.
“What makes you think I care?”
Hrist lunged forward, sweeping her axe at Midnight’s chest, but the cyborg leaned backwards, the axe brushing within a breathe of his ribs. He then sprung forward, driving his elbow into Hrist’s midsection.
As she went down, Midnight activated the rocket-jets in his right foot, propelling it forward and catching Hrist’s jaw almost perfectly.
As Hrist recoiled from the blow, Midnight caught her head in his talons, and without hesitation activated his plasma casters. Twin forces of energy blasted forth, with Hrist’s head caught in the middle. He angled his hands slightly, and the force of his blasts sent Hrist’s head snapped backwards, smashing into the metal floor, denting it as if it were made of clay.
“Had enough?”
Midnight was half certain that he’d killed her. He could think of only a handful of people who could survive what he’d just done.
But he heard a hearty chuckle from Hrist, as she sat up and wiped the blood from her mouth.
“I’ve barely started, tinker toy.”
# # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # #
Scorpion caught of two Piranhas who were trying to flank them, and willed the specially designed, cybernetic arm protector, that she affectionately named ‘the stinger’ to cover the entire length of her left arm.
The Stinger had been something cooked up in a Shield lab, designed to allow Scorpion to control her poison energy powers. It was a marvel of science, allowing her control over her powers while being able to cover the length of her arm, or retracting to the size of a watch.
But Scorpion realized that she never bothered to confirm if the thing was bullet proof.
The passageway between her, the servers and her attacks was too narrow for them to aim their assault weapons.
Their side-arms, however, was something else entirely.
Scorpion raised her left arm in front her of as she dashed at the men. The one in front squeezed off three shots, and Scorpion found that her stinger was in fact bullet proof as she felt the heavy thuds, but felt nothing tearing her flesh apart
Scorpion ensured that those three shots would be all that the man got, as she leapt forward, both knees slamming into the man’s ribs. He fell backwards, smacking into his partner and they went down in a tumble.
Without hesitation, Scorpion unleashed her venom blasts on the men, causing them to writhe in agony for a split second, before becoming far too still for Scorpion’s comfort. But with this many enemies, she didn’t bother to check for a pulse, not when there were still so many enemies left
# # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # #
Hurricane danced backwards as Alpha swept her daggers at Hurricane’s throat, but she was on him in seconds. The skrull was like a snake, lethal and quick, and one misstep would be deadly.
But staying in the defensive forever wasn’t an option either. Hurricane aimed his sidearm at the ceiling, and pulled the trigger twice. The bullets hit the ceiling as an angle, and bounced back down to the ground almost as fast as they were fired, striking the knives in Alpha’s hands, shattering them like ice on a hot pavement.
“Argh!” Alpha stepped back, eyes wide, “…you are an excellent marksman, human.”
“Beloved,” Apex said softly, “perhaps we should kill him together? This is our vacation, after all.”
The corner of Alpha’s lip curled into a smile, “You’re right, husband. I’ve been selfish.”
Hurricane knew where this was going He quickly holstered his sidearm quickly, and drew his shotgun with his left hand, pulled his machete with his right and prayed that he was good enough to pull off what he had planned next.
“Lets kill him together, like a proper couple.”
“You’re making me misty,” Hurricane said. He aimed his shotgun at Apex, “you going to try to kill me or what?”
Apex’s drone saw Hurricane level his weapon, and mindlessly executed it’s programming, aiming its laser at the hand holding the gun.
But Hurricane brought his machete up and deflected the blast towards Alpha, where it struck her in the stomach and slammed her against the wall.
“Alpha!”
Seeing his wife hurt and himself to blame, Apex hesitated for a split second, and that was the opening Hurricane needed.
He threw his machete at Apex with expert skill, and the blade sunk into the Kree’s shoulder, punching out the back.
Hurricane rushed towards Apex, and smashed the butt of his shotgun across the alien’s face, sending spittle, tooth and blood flying.
But Apex reacted like a true soldier, leaning back on his left leg, while he pulled the right back and snap kicked Hurricane in the gut.
The air exploded from Hurricane’s lungs, but he kept enough of his wits about him to reach out and grab the bottom inch of his machete’s handle, and give it a good yank.
The blade slid free as Apex fought down a scream.
“…impressive,” Apex reached into his belt, and removed a small pellet that he pressed up against his wound. A white foam exploded from the devise, covering the wound completely, “I think I am about done underestimating you, human.”
Hurricane popped his neck.
“Prove it.”
# # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # #
Shroud willed a spike of dark force towards the two Piranhas trying to get in close. They were just barely within range of his abilities, but that was close enough to slice the barrels from their rifles and forced them back.
If there was a battleground that Shroud hated more than a server bank, he couldn’t think of it. Cover was erratic at best, to the point that his vision, such as it was, struggled to find good cover. The rows of computers looked like a solid wall to how he perceived the world, though in reality he knew there were cracked and crevices where they could shoot through. Every time he lowered his field he risked a bullet to the head, but Shroud knew that they risked worse the longer they were pinned down.
As vastly outnumbered as they were, movement was life. And every second they were trapped was another inch closer to the grave.
Shroud wiped the sweat from his brow, and then stopped in his tracks, dumbstruck.
All of a sudden, the room was sweltering where it had been freezing, and the temperature was still climbing, resembling an oven, not a server room.
“Raven!” Shroud snapped, “we have a problem?”
“I know!” Mr. Raven snapped. He turned his attention towards the door, where the cables that had fed the ionic energy to the door rested. The two boxes, transformers that funneled the energy into the door, the two devises that his specially designed bullets had destroyed, were glowing white hot.
Mr. Raven recognized the tactic instantly. The two ionic transformers were still capable of receiving energy, but not dumping it. With nowhere to go, the energy would build like water in a balloon, until it exploded.
Only instead of splashing everyone with water, it would sear the flesh from their bones. That was the best case scenario.
“Shroud, can you teleport it away?” Mr. Raven said.
“I’m not Cloak,” said Shroud, “what I can store in the dark force is very limited, and doesn’t include God damn energy grenades!”
“Fine, be that way,” Mr. Raven said. He scanned the battlefield, looking for his team. If they wanted to survive, they had only one option now, and that was a long shot.
He found who he was looking for easily enough. Warcry was on the far side of the room, back pressed against a wall as bullets flew.
As if that weren’t enough, Hrist and Midnight were still locked in combat in the middle of the room, utterly ignoring the hail of gunfire.
“Warcry, we have a problem!”
“No kidding!” Warcry didn’t flinch as a bullet ricocheted past her head, but her eyes did glance in it’s direction, “any ideas?”
“Yeah, we’re about to all die!”
“Statement, not idea!”
“Door!” Mr. Raven shouted, over the gunfire, “energy, going to explode! Unless you do something!”
Warcry saw what Mr. Raven was pointing at, and did a double take. And then, naturally said,
“Well, what the hell am I supposed to do about that?”
“Narrow sonic scream,” said Mr. Raven, “then…ugh!”
Warcry watched in horror as Mr. Raven slowly slumped to the ground. A lucky shot had clipped his head, and she could see…sparks?
“Raven? You dead?”
Mr. Raven grunted, “Not yet. Narrow sonic beam, send the ionic energy outwards. Like letting air out of a balloon.”
“What, you a scientist or something?”
“Or something!” Mr. Raven snapped, “do it or we’re dead!”
Warcry, rather than retort, took a deep breath. What she was about to attempt would be the most complicated use of her sonic abilities yet, and the whistles on her throat wouldn’t be able to help one.
She started whistling, focusing the tremble of her sonic abilities, and sending a low pulse of her sonic scream towards the first ionic transformer. As the metal of the devise shook from the pulse, Warcry listened, and in her mind formed a mental map of it’s structure, flaws and strengths.
Warcry had more than a 3-D image of the devise in her mind, she had a complete blue print in her mind, though damned if she could understand any of it. All she could sense was where it was weak, where it was strong and how much of her own strength it would take to break.
Which, because Fate was a damned fickle bitch, was about all of it.
“Shroud,” Warcry shouted, “the second I stop screaming, raise a field, okay?”
“Got it!” said Shroud, though he had doubts that he could generate one strong enough.
“Okay,” Warcry blinked the sweat from her eye. She knew the risks involved. And though she wasn’t afraid to die, she didn’t want to die just, “here goes…everything.”
Warcry screamed.
The ionic transformers scattered.
# # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # # #
Several minutes earlier
Apex ducked under a swing from Hurricane’s machete, and swung his right knee up as he leapt forward, slamming it into Hurricane’s gut.
With his enemy so close, the merc realized he didn’t have enough room to maneuver his blade to slice the alien in two, so instead he retaliated by slamming his right hand, still holding his machete into Apex’s stomach, and followed through by swinging his left elbow into the Kree’s face, sending blood and spittle flying.
His enemy stunned, Hurricane used that split second to bring his machete swinging down, intent on removing the elbow that he had already wounded.
But Apex was too quick, stepping to the side and responding with a head-butt that made Hurricane see stars, and then ducked under the left hook Hurricane unleashed on instinct. Apex slipped behind him with the grace of a jungle cat, and wrapping both arms around Hurricane’s waist.
He lifted the Hurricane up and over, sending him crashing to the ground in a painful arc. As his back slammed into the concrete of the floor, Hurricane’s vibranium machete slipped from his hand and skittered just a few feet out of reach.
Both men scrambled to their feet, but Apex was a split second faster. He pulled his fist back and connected with a haymaker that snapped Hurricane’s head to the side.
Hurricane responded with a left backhand that clipped Apex’s jaw, and followed up by bringing his right wrist smashing down on Apex’s shoulder. Apex fell to one knee, and Hurricane grabbed him by the throat, and smashed him against the wall.
“Stand down and we can go our separate ways,” Hurricane growled, “just say the word!”
“Gauntlet.”
A burst of blue light exploded from Apex’s hands, and Hurricane staggered backwards, just barely avoiding a swing that would have taken his head off.
Hurricane’s vision cleared quickly, and he swallowed hard when he saw that Apex now apparently had spiked boxing gloves over his fists.
“That is so not fair,” Hurricane muttered.
His hands flew to his sidearm, and before Apex could take a step forward, Hurricane uploaded the full clip at the Kree’s face.
Apex crossed his hands over his face, blocking the bullets, just as Hurricane expected. He dropped the gun without ceremony and lunged towards Apex, swinging his fist into where he’d shot the man earlier, hitting with all his strength.
The blow lifted Apex an inch off his feet and stunned him just long enough for Hurricane to get behind the man, and pin his arms.
“Last chance…!” Hurricane’s mouth snapped shut when he felt the floor beginning to rumble. He caught a glimpse of bright orange light out of the corner of his eye, and swiveled his head to get a look.
Hurricane’s conscious mind had no idea what he saw.
But his unconscious mind saw a wall of flame barreling towards them like a runaway train. Acting on instinct, Hurricane swung Apex towards the rushing wall of energy, and turned his head away, praying to God for mercy he knew he would never again deserve.
The energy washed over them, followed immediately by screams, his and Apex mingled together, then…
…darkness.
Next issue: ?