Back to GatefoldIssue #12 by Daniel Ingram
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"Of Blood and Dirt Past"
South Africa…
Then…
The day Min Jung’s life went to hell, the day that started her path down to becoming the mercenary known as Warcry, it was actually saved by the most simple of things.
Hide and Seek.
She was underneath the guest bed on the second floor of the compound. It hadn’t been used in weeks, and all Min Jung had to do was move a few boxes aside, slipping between them perfectly.
Min Jung giggled under her breath, impressed with her own cleverness.
She stopped when the building shook, and she heard gunshots.
Her first thought was to scramble out of her hiding place, to find her father.
But then several bullets tore through the floor next to her, and fear paralyzed her. Completely overwhelmed by panic, Min Jung curled into a fetal position as screams, those of her father, those of her sister and friend, tore through the air.
Silence came eventually, but that was more terrifying, in its own way. The guest room was just above the main room, where the attackers had gathered t debrief.
The girl who would be the woman known as Warcry heard only snippets, but they would remain seared into her memory for the rest of her life.
“-two kids, just like in the brief-”
“-the Dad took shrapnel to the gut-”
“-think we can sell his arsenal for another payday-”
In the days and weeks to follow, Warcry would learn that her father was an arms dealer, who had crossed the wrong man, made the wrong deal. That the Dogs of War, cyborg werewolves, had been hired to destroy her family, killing her father, stealing his weapons and selling her surviving family to her father’s enemies.
Finding them, was a different matter. The cyborg werewolves moved like smoke and mist through the African underworld, and every time Warcry got close, they vanished. Trained soldiers who could become metal werewolves were the ultimate survivors, capable of going off grid for months at a time.
For a long time, Warcry despaired that she would never have her revenge, that the men who butchered her family would never pay.
That was when her savior came, in a shitty little bar on the edge of Cape Town. Packed wall to wall with criminals and degenerates, Warcry had been nursing a beer, half paying attention to a football game on the television.
It was one of Warcry’s less prouder days, when she allowed herself to get drunk and give into the fear that her family would never rest in peace. She gave no mind to anything but her own anguish, at first.
But when this crowd of criminals began to part like the Red Sea, Warcry took notice. Especially when they all parted in direction of her.
“Good evening,” Mr. Raven said, “could I perhaps interest you in some revenge?”
Hell’s Peak…
Mr. Raven had taken point, with Hurricane following behind, Scorpion next and Warcry bring up the rear. Using the devise Andi Hunter had given them, Mr. Raven had linked his goggles with Hell’s Peak systems, giving him access to their cameras and sensors, and all the information contained therein. It also allowed him to cloak them from the cameras, allowing them a certain freedom of movement.
The four moved silently down the corridor, as silent as church mice. Almost immediately, they felt the pull of the magic Hrist had connected them with, and knew that their comrades were near.
So focused on being silent, no one took notice of change of light around them. It was softer, less bright, duller than even regular florescent.
After what felt like hours of skulking, of inching along, Mr. Raven raised a clenched fist, signaling them to stop.
“Door up ahead,” Mr. Raven whispered, “I have explosives, Hurricane follow up. Ladies, watch our back.”
Mr. Raven was shocked when Warcry voiced no objection. He knew that the African merc had spent years researching the Dogs of War, their client and their tactics. Her entire career had led up to this, and yet she wasn’t insisting on taking the lead.
But he put the thought aside. All that mattered right now was rescuing their teammates, so that they might actually accomplish their mission.
So Mr. Raven placed the explosives, and barely several seconds after the explosion, the team was inside.
They found Hrist and Thrill Blade wrapped in chains, bound to a column in the center of the room, but no werewolves.
“Where the hell are they?”
“Behind you, you mortal fools!” Hrist snapped.
As silent as the night itself, the werewolves emerged, camouflage devises deactivated.
And Warcry smiled.
Hugo Bradshaw stared at his monitor, his face pale. He’d just spent the last twenty minutes reviewing a clip that had come from a redundancy camera installed last week.
The image was crisp and clear. Even though there was no audio, there was no mistaking what was taking place.
Andi Hunter was with the mercenaries assaulting Hell’s Peak, and offered them something.
The exact details were a mystery, but the big picture wasn’t. They were working together, and there wasn’t a more dangerous ally for them to have.
“Okay, you can do this,” Hugo transferred the video to a tablet, and summoned all his courage.
He knew that Dran was sitting in his office that overlooked all the guards, and made his way up. A few co-workers observed him out of the corner of their eyes, but did everything they could not to acknowledge it.
“Hugo?” Dran fixed his eyes on the man when he entered, “why are you here, and not at your station?”
“I have something you need to see, sir,” Hugo said, “and we need to be very careful who else sees it.”
“Very well,” Dran pressed a button, and the blinds in the office swung closed, and a thin force-field activated, sound proofing the room, “what is it you wanted me to see?”
Hugo played the video.
“I see,” Dran steepled his hands, “and who else knows this?”
“No one, sir,” Hugo replied, “this was taken from a redundancy camera. We agreed to start installing them in May meeting, remember? I know you and Andi are, uhh…close.”
“Close,” Dran chuckled, as his eye twitched.
Ten Minutes later…
“I’m sorry, Hugo,” Dran took a nail file, and began scraping grey matter out from under his fingernails, “that was unprofessional of me. If you can hear me, wherever you are, you should know that I will double your death benefits, and I promise your personal effects will be sent to your designated heir. It will be the second thing I do.”
Dran clenched his blood soaked fist.
“The first will be dealing with a traitor.”
Warcry smiled.
And then she screamed.
“Skreee!!!”
A tsunami of sonic energy rushed forward, smashing into each and every Dog of War was pushed back as if caught in hurricane force winds.
Wacry took a second breath, and screamed again, doubling the force of her sonic assault. By now, the sound had climbed to such a frequency that the earplugs of her teammates were almost pointless.
The assault managed to pick up the Dogs of War, and sent them hurtling down the hall.
“Well done, loud mortal,” Hrist said, rolling her eye, “but if thou thinks that you can win here, you are as foolish as you are noisy.”
“I’ve killed werewolves before,” Warcry said, gasping.
“Look at the light around us,” Hrist said, and for the first time, the mercenaries took note of how it looked different, softer than usual.
“Okay, little softer than usual,” Hurricane said, “but…”
“’Tis moon light, fools!” Hrist snapped, “glass made from sand of that dead orb itself! They are unstoppable here!”
“Easily solved,” Hurricane aimed his berretta at the ceiling, and pulled the trigger twice. The glass in front of the lights sparked, but did not crack.
“Did thou not think that they would think of the same thing?” Hrist snapped.
Hurricane glanced towards the Dogs of War, now climbing to their feet.
“Okay everyone,” Hurricane said, “new plan. Get Hrist and Thrill Blade free, I’ll hold them off. Then we run, find a better battlefield.”
“How do you plan on doing that?” Scorpion demanded, “you have any silver bullets in that gun?”
“Nope.”
Hurricane pulled the trigger once, and the cybernetic eye of a Dogs of War exploded in a flurry of glass and sparks.
“But I’m a decent shot. Now hurry up.”
Scorpion and Mr. Raven went to Hrist and Thrill Blade’s side immediately, trying to free them.
“I can help you but time,” Warcry said, as she took a place beside Hurricane, “allow me a moment.”
Warcry then screamed again, but a frequency no human being could hear.
Hurricane watched, as the Dogs of War clutched their heads, their eardrums exploding.
Hurricane observed the sadistic smile on Warcry’s face.
“You’re enjoying this a little too much.”
“We’re criminals,” Warcry replied, “make peace with your dark side.”
Hrist chuckled, as Mr. Raven removed a small laser torch, and turned it towards a link in the chain.
“The metal ‘tis secondary adamantium,” Hrist said, “thou would need a star to cut through it.”
“Then what do you suggest?” Mr. Raven fought to keep from looking back at the werewolves, and their slow advance.
“Magic,” Hrist said, “assist the marksman and screamer. I’ll handle this.”
“Alright,” Mr. Raven drew his guns, “Scorpion, you heard the lady. Lets buy them some time.”
The two turned towards the Dogs of War, and unleashed their abilities.
“Well?” Thrill Blade said “magic us out of here!”
“Thrill Blade,” Hrist said, her voice calm, “you need to cut us out of here with your sword.”
“Me? What about your equipment?”
“They secured it too well,” Hrist replied, “bound their enchantment in these chains. To retrieve them, I need break these. Actually rather clever. But they dismissed your blade.”
“What? Why?”
“Because I am of Asgard, and you a boy soldier who found a toy of magic.”
“I’m not…”
“A child with a flame thrower?” Hrist said.
“Hey, I served in the Royal Airforce,” Thrill Blade defended.
“You found a weapon, and wielded its power without regard for the consequences,” said Hrist, “its bound to you, its victim, until your last breath.”
“I’m not it’s victim,” Thrill Blade snapped, growing angry.
Hrist hesitated, for only a moment.
“Tell that to Alley-Cat.” Hrist replied, and then added a dose of magic to the next words, saying, “remember.”
Thrill Blade felt as if someone had slapped him, and his head began to swim.
“We have to get out of here,” Alley-Cat said, “I’ve got kids…!”
Without looking at his friend, Thrill Blade plunged his sword into her gut.
“…Thrill Blade?”
Alley-Cat, who thought herself a friend to Thrill Blade, was as stunned by his betrayal as she was by the wound. She fell out, and couldn’t believe the look of horror and confusion on Thrill Blade’s face when he turned to her.
“Oh God, no…” Thrill Blade went to her side, horror on his face.
“Thrill Blade…t…tell me, why me?”
Thrill Blade could barely breathe, as he realized what he’d done.
“Thy blade was made with the heart of a succubus,” Hrist said, though Thrill Blade could barely hear her, “thy passion, and that of thy victims fuels it.”
Thrill Blade began banging his head on the back of the column, as a flood of memories returned.
A bead of sweat trickled down Hurricane’s forehead.
The Dogs of War, all seven of them, moved at glacial speed. Hurricane had shot out their eyes, knees and elbows.
And still they came.
Warcry turned their eyes to liquid, and exploded their ear drums.
And still they came.
Mr. Raven produced two grenades no larger than lighters, that spewed out blue flame.
And still they came.
Metal claws, electronic eyes, teeth powerful enough to rend metal, inched towards them, and Hurricane idly wondered how far they could run before these bastards tore them limb from limb.
A scream sliced through the room, of such power, of such force, that it took Hurricane a second to realize that he hadn’t heard the scream, but felt it.
The mercenaries turned around as one and saw Thrill Blade standing there, claymore in hand.
The mystic sword pulsed, as the air around them became thick and heavy. Hurricane and the others soon realized that they could actually feel the emotion in the air.
“Arrghhh!”
Thrill Blade screamed, and darted past his fellow mercanries, tackling the Dogs of War as one.
“Thrill Blade!”
Hurricane tried to rush to his ally’s side, but Hrist grabbed him before he could make a step.
“Leave him,” Hrist said, “he is now bound to the sword by magic Odin himself could not break.”
“We can’ leave him behind!”
“How is he still alive?” Scorpion said.
When she saw Thrill Blade tackle the Dogs of War, she had expected a quick and violent end.
But instead, Thrill Blade was throwing them around like rag dolls. One managed to get in close, and rake his claws against Thrill Blade’s chest.
But the watched in astonishment as the wound healed nearly as quickly as it was made, and Thrill Blade knocked the werewolf away.
“’Tis a feedback loop,” Hrist said, “the sword can absorb and amplify emotion. It’s been using him since the beginning.”
“Hurricane, we have to go,” Mr. Raven said, “these bastards are unkillable here. We need to make our stand anywhere else.”
“And leave a man behind?” Hurricane demanded.
“Do you really think you could reach him?” Warcry said, “feel free to try.”
“God damn it!” Hurricane was too skilled a soldier to pretend like they had any other choice, “let’s get the hell out of here, and find someplace where we can kill these bastards.”
The job in Kosovo.
The train car assault.
The Iceland incident.
Memories of provocation and betrayal slammed Thrill Blade’s mind, fueling a rage that formed into a maelstrom by his sword.
Thrill Blade’s heart was pounding as he sliced one werewolf, though his mind was a hundred miles away, remembering when he drove two married members of his crew to kill one another.
Only now did Thrill Blade realize that he didn’t wield this magic sword, it wielded him.
And there could be only one possible response to that.
Thrill Blade opened his sword hand.
And welcomed what came next.
Andi Hunter had barely stepped out of the elevator before she felt the Solution’s hand around her throat.
“You traitorous little bitch,” the Solution picked her up by her neck, “my friends are dead because of you!”
“What are you talking about?” Andi knew she was in trouble, but the first thing an agent learned was to never to break cover under duress, “I was doing a security sweep!”
“We have video,” Damien Dran explained, as he entered the room, “I verified it myself. So spare us your denials. I’m tempted to have Solution just tear your head off here and now.”
“I’m pregnant,” Andi Hunter knew it was a mistake, but she couldn’t think of any other way to protect herself and her unborn child from Dran’s rage, “Mr. Raven offered me a way out, to not have my child raised surrounded criminals.”
The twitch in Dran’s eye terrified Andi. If it was just her life on the line, she would have gladly spit in the man’s face, and God did she ever want to. But it wasn’t just her life anymore, and survival was everything right now.
“You can’t believe her bullshit,” Solution said, “just say the word, and I’ll tear her in half.”
“Your revenge will simply have to be delayed by a few months,” Dran replied, “but as compensation, I’ll bring in some specialists regarding the infliction of pain. Satisfactory?”
When Solution smiled at her, Andi felt her skin crawl.
“Now follow me. I’m certain that Andi has given these interlopers a skeleton key to our systems, and they’re after me. We need to activate the Omega Protocol.”
Andi’s blood went cold, “You don’t need to do that. You have no idea how dangerous enacting it would be!”
“I know, you’ve left me no other choice.”
One corridor and elevator ride later…
“They won’t rest until we’re dead,” Warcry said, “the Dogs of War are infamous for running their enemies to ground. We need to find a place to take a stand.”
“Well, that’s fine with me,” Hurricane growled, “because I’m tired of running.”
“Running would be unwise,” Hrist said, “the wolves have taxed their magic with their technology and battle with the Thrill Blade. We will never have a better opportunity to kill them then now.”
“Lets find us a kill box, then,” said Mr. Raven.
Elsewhere…
Beads of sweat trickled down Felix Drummer’s forehead, as he and The Solution made their way down to a vault that hadn’t seen a single visitor since it was installed.
“Are you sure the boss wants to do this?” Felix looked at Solution, pleading.
“You heard him, same as me,” Solution replied, “you saw his mood, but hey, if you want to go back and ask…”
“No, God no,” Felix said, “lets just get this over with.”
Felix and Solution placed their hands against two palm readers, opposite of one another.
The room trembled as the vibranium doors slowly creaked open, and a blinding light began to spill outwards.
Drummer wore a pair of specially designed goggles, but even then the light seemed to cut through him.
“Never thought I’d see this thing again,” Solution said, his android eyes immune to the searing light.
Felix Drummer swallowed, as he cast his eyes on a Cosmic Cube, power washing off of it waves. A more motivated man might have been tempted to take the powerful artifact then and there, but Felix was one of five people trusted with the combination because he knew of the Cube’s flaw.
To see the dangerous design flaws, you needed goggles attuned to certain frequencies, but the Cube itself had several spider-web like cracks in it. Created by RAID, it had been stolen by The Solution not long after his creation, and bartered to Dran.
Dran had wisely kept it in reserve, and paid a team of super scientists to build a machine that could safely extract the seething energy, and make use of the Cosmic Cube as it was originally intended.
But the fact that it was literally broken, and designed to alter reality itself made Felix Drummer wish he’d chosen a different career, as he began the process to activate it. Enough energy to power the entire United States began flooding the conduits.
The Dogs of War stepped off the elevator, blood dripping from their fangs and claws, yet they remained hungry for more.
But after two steps, they found themselves gripped in a primal fear that froze their legs, even though they were veterans of a hundred battles. Animal instincts began screaming at them, deafening, paralyzing.
“That feeling?” Warcry whispered in their ear, “it’s infrasound. A frequency that triggers fear in both man and beast.”
“And you’re both.”
The adrenaline of battle vanished in an instant, replaced with a fear unlike anything the Dogs of War had ever felt.
Warcry sent her sonics into each of them, and they resonated like tuning forks.
“Thou should have used thy moonlight to rest and heal. Instead, you have taxed the curse within you.”
A uru axe sent sailing through the air, and split the skull of one werewolf.
“T’was unwise, bitches.”
Mr. Raven leveled both his pistols, and bullets filled with special flechette darts were sent flying. One unlucky werewolf caught a bullet through his cybernetic eye, and lived just long enough to feel the bullet break apart into tiny metal splinters in his brain.
Hurricane pulled the trigger on his shot gun twice, firing two solid slugs. One through the eye of his enemy, the second through the werewolf’s mouth, exploding out the back.
Only one Dog of War regained enough of his wits to lunge at his enemies, but he happened in the path of Hrist’s uru axe as it was returning, ripping him in twain, just below the ribs.
“Wolves,” Hrist walked towards the downed Dog of War. She pressed her heel against the mystic creature’s head, “I doth loath you.”
Hrist began applying pressure, but slowly. This was something she wanted to savor.
“Have we finished them all?” said Hrist.
“I think I saw one slink off,” Scorpion said, as she stepped forward.
“General Tier,” Mr. Raven said, “looks like he slipped away.”
Hrist smirked, “I assure thee, mortal, that he did not.”
General Tier felt no shame as he slinked away from his men. He had watched the life-signs disappear on his internal HUD, and simply noted that he had recreated his pack before. He could do it again.
“Hey.”
General Tier froze.
“Want to hear something special?”
The wave of sonic energy struck General Tier like a wave rejoining the ocean. The sonics melted into his body, seeping into muscle and tissue, rattling his entire body as if he were in a one-man earthquake.
Then the pitch surged, and General Tier could feel the exact instant all his bones broke like twigs. He slid to the ground like a ragdoll, his nerves too scrambled to transmit pain.
“I studied sonics and acoustics for five years before that occurred to me,” Warcry said, “the men and women I practiced on may not have deserved it as much as you, but it was close.”
Warcry grabbed General Tier by the ankles, and pulled him into the center of the hallway, so that his body was flush with the floor.
“Please…wait,” General Tier begged, “don’t do this…”
“I’ve dreamed of this day every day since you and yours slaughtered my family,” Warcry hissed, “I’ve spilled an ocean of blood to get here, and I’d spill another if I had to.”
“Don’t…”
Warcry smiled, as for the first time in her adult life, the weight on her shoulders became a little lighter, “Why would I ever spare your life?”
“Your sister, she’s still alive.”
And just like that, Warcry felt the crushing weight return.
“…what?”
“Your sister,” General Tier gasped, “she’s alive. We…”
“You sold her,” Warcry growled, “after you did God knows what to her.”
General Tier, cursed with the spirit of a werewolf for over four decades, thought he knew fury, thought he knew rage.
But his enhanced senses were now telling him that he’d so very naïve.
“Unless you can produce her, right here, right now,” Warcry trembled with rage, “then I’ll have to assume you are lying. And do what I came to do anyways.”
Warcry didn’t even hear General Tier’s last words, as she readied the scream she had been preparing for almost her entire life.
Warcry directed a narrow wave of sonic at General Tier’s skull, and slowly increased the intensity.
General Tier felt the skin around his face beginning to peel backwards, like an onion. The healing abilities of his supernatural curse fought back as best it could, but it was for naught.
Then the General felt his eyes, as they shook into a glue-like paste.
Seeing that, Warcry changed the frequency and pitch of her, and her sonic energy flowed inside of General Tier’s skull. The African merc only stopped when she saw something gray trickling out of his ears.
“Goodbye, General,” Warcry stomped on the empty skull.
Warcry looked at the headless corpse of her foe, and suddenly felt dizzy. She had spent so much of herself in hunting him down, in slaughtering the Dogs of War for what they’d done to her family.
Never once did Warcry actually think that she would have pulled it off and survived, nor did she ever think that her sister might still be alive.
Barely able to think, Warcry saw the world around her changing, and beginning to spin. She began to feel dizzy, and stumbled to her knees.
“Mortal fool!” Hrist shouted, seconds before she landed in front of Warcry, from high above.
The mere act left Warcry baffled, as they were inside of a building, with precious little space in which for Hrist to jump from.
The fog lifted from Warcry’s mind in an instant, and what she thought had simply been shock was in fact the world spinning. The building had been split apart like it was a giant jinja tower. Warcry spotted Scorpion, Hurricane and Mr. Raven on a panel of floor several stories up.
“Oh, this is not good,” Warcry observed.
“Thy grasp of the obvious is strong,” Hrist replied, “now close your mouth, I need to concentrate.”
Hrist threw Warcry over her shoulder like she was a sack of flour, and leapt towards a piece of flooring two stories above them, just barely making it. Hrist spun around, located her friends.
“Hold on!” Hrist said, before leaping again.
“To what, why?” Warcry said, before she felt smash through one wall, and then a moment later, another.
Warcry looked behind, and saw many separate parts of the building beginning to move towards them.
“Faster, we need to move faster!”
Hrist leapt another two stories, “If thou can help, help. Otherwise, close thy mouth!”
Hrist landed on a platform only a few yards from her comrades, but watched helplessly as their platform began to rise, higher and higher.
With only seconds to consider her options Hrist decided on a Hail Mary, and grabbed her axe.
“Hurricane, catch!”
“What?”
Hurricane barely saw the axe that was sent flying towards his head. Instinct took over, and he grabbed the handle just in time to keep it from splitting his skull.
“Hold on!” Hrist shouted, and sent her will through the enchantment.
Hurricane planted his feet, and it felt as if he were in a tug of war with a Rhino.
Below, Hrist found herself yanked from her feet as intended. She had worked the enchantment on her axes so that in emergencies, if they could not return to her, she could return to them.
Warcry, who had no idea how exactly Hrist was flying, snapped her head from side to side in a panic, and realized that they were in between two very large metal rooms, that were moving closer and closer.
“Faster, we have to go faster!”
“Physics won’t let me!”
“Damn you mortals and your limitations!”
Hrist and Warcry crashed into Hurricane mere moments before Hell’s Peak, and all the dangerous pieces that made it up, were returned to their natural form.
“…not how I want to be under two women,” Hurricane groaned.
“Feh, you should be honored, mortal,” Hrist said as she stood up. She took her axe from Hurricane, then pulled the man to his feet.
“Okay, what the hell was that?” said Scorpion, “the entire building took itself apart like it was made of damn legos!”
“Dran’s Omega Protocol,” Mr. Raven said, “in the event of a raid by the Avengers or someone in their league, all habitats or vaults with Alpha level threats or above are placed immediately atop them. He knows we’re coming for him, and just put a minefield in our way.”
“Good,” Hurricane said.
“How the hell is that good?” Scorpion snapped.
“Because Dran is terrified of us,” replied Hurricane, “lets go show him why he’s right to be.”
Next issue: The end approaches, as another cast member’s life hangs in the balance!
Then…
The day Min Jung’s life went to hell, the day that started her path down to becoming the mercenary known as Warcry, it was actually saved by the most simple of things.
Hide and Seek.
She was underneath the guest bed on the second floor of the compound. It hadn’t been used in weeks, and all Min Jung had to do was move a few boxes aside, slipping between them perfectly.
Min Jung giggled under her breath, impressed with her own cleverness.
She stopped when the building shook, and she heard gunshots.
Her first thought was to scramble out of her hiding place, to find her father.
But then several bullets tore through the floor next to her, and fear paralyzed her. Completely overwhelmed by panic, Min Jung curled into a fetal position as screams, those of her father, those of her sister and friend, tore through the air.
Silence came eventually, but that was more terrifying, in its own way. The guest room was just above the main room, where the attackers had gathered t debrief.
The girl who would be the woman known as Warcry heard only snippets, but they would remain seared into her memory for the rest of her life.
“-two kids, just like in the brief-”
“-the Dad took shrapnel to the gut-”
“-think we can sell his arsenal for another payday-”
In the days and weeks to follow, Warcry would learn that her father was an arms dealer, who had crossed the wrong man, made the wrong deal. That the Dogs of War, cyborg werewolves, had been hired to destroy her family, killing her father, stealing his weapons and selling her surviving family to her father’s enemies.
Finding them, was a different matter. The cyborg werewolves moved like smoke and mist through the African underworld, and every time Warcry got close, they vanished. Trained soldiers who could become metal werewolves were the ultimate survivors, capable of going off grid for months at a time.
For a long time, Warcry despaired that she would never have her revenge, that the men who butchered her family would never pay.
That was when her savior came, in a shitty little bar on the edge of Cape Town. Packed wall to wall with criminals and degenerates, Warcry had been nursing a beer, half paying attention to a football game on the television.
It was one of Warcry’s less prouder days, when she allowed herself to get drunk and give into the fear that her family would never rest in peace. She gave no mind to anything but her own anguish, at first.
But when this crowd of criminals began to part like the Red Sea, Warcry took notice. Especially when they all parted in direction of her.
“Good evening,” Mr. Raven said, “could I perhaps interest you in some revenge?”
Hell’s Peak…
Mr. Raven had taken point, with Hurricane following behind, Scorpion next and Warcry bring up the rear. Using the devise Andi Hunter had given them, Mr. Raven had linked his goggles with Hell’s Peak systems, giving him access to their cameras and sensors, and all the information contained therein. It also allowed him to cloak them from the cameras, allowing them a certain freedom of movement.
The four moved silently down the corridor, as silent as church mice. Almost immediately, they felt the pull of the magic Hrist had connected them with, and knew that their comrades were near.
So focused on being silent, no one took notice of change of light around them. It was softer, less bright, duller than even regular florescent.
After what felt like hours of skulking, of inching along, Mr. Raven raised a clenched fist, signaling them to stop.
“Door up ahead,” Mr. Raven whispered, “I have explosives, Hurricane follow up. Ladies, watch our back.”
Mr. Raven was shocked when Warcry voiced no objection. He knew that the African merc had spent years researching the Dogs of War, their client and their tactics. Her entire career had led up to this, and yet she wasn’t insisting on taking the lead.
But he put the thought aside. All that mattered right now was rescuing their teammates, so that they might actually accomplish their mission.
So Mr. Raven placed the explosives, and barely several seconds after the explosion, the team was inside.
They found Hrist and Thrill Blade wrapped in chains, bound to a column in the center of the room, but no werewolves.
“Where the hell are they?”
“Behind you, you mortal fools!” Hrist snapped.
As silent as the night itself, the werewolves emerged, camouflage devises deactivated.
And Warcry smiled.
Hugo Bradshaw stared at his monitor, his face pale. He’d just spent the last twenty minutes reviewing a clip that had come from a redundancy camera installed last week.
The image was crisp and clear. Even though there was no audio, there was no mistaking what was taking place.
Andi Hunter was with the mercenaries assaulting Hell’s Peak, and offered them something.
The exact details were a mystery, but the big picture wasn’t. They were working together, and there wasn’t a more dangerous ally for them to have.
“Okay, you can do this,” Hugo transferred the video to a tablet, and summoned all his courage.
He knew that Dran was sitting in his office that overlooked all the guards, and made his way up. A few co-workers observed him out of the corner of their eyes, but did everything they could not to acknowledge it.
“Hugo?” Dran fixed his eyes on the man when he entered, “why are you here, and not at your station?”
“I have something you need to see, sir,” Hugo said, “and we need to be very careful who else sees it.”
“Very well,” Dran pressed a button, and the blinds in the office swung closed, and a thin force-field activated, sound proofing the room, “what is it you wanted me to see?”
Hugo played the video.
“I see,” Dran steepled his hands, “and who else knows this?”
“No one, sir,” Hugo replied, “this was taken from a redundancy camera. We agreed to start installing them in May meeting, remember? I know you and Andi are, uhh…close.”
“Close,” Dran chuckled, as his eye twitched.
Ten Minutes later…
“I’m sorry, Hugo,” Dran took a nail file, and began scraping grey matter out from under his fingernails, “that was unprofessional of me. If you can hear me, wherever you are, you should know that I will double your death benefits, and I promise your personal effects will be sent to your designated heir. It will be the second thing I do.”
Dran clenched his blood soaked fist.
“The first will be dealing with a traitor.”
Warcry smiled.
And then she screamed.
“Skreee!!!”
A tsunami of sonic energy rushed forward, smashing into each and every Dog of War was pushed back as if caught in hurricane force winds.
Wacry took a second breath, and screamed again, doubling the force of her sonic assault. By now, the sound had climbed to such a frequency that the earplugs of her teammates were almost pointless.
The assault managed to pick up the Dogs of War, and sent them hurtling down the hall.
“Well done, loud mortal,” Hrist said, rolling her eye, “but if thou thinks that you can win here, you are as foolish as you are noisy.”
“I’ve killed werewolves before,” Warcry said, gasping.
“Look at the light around us,” Hrist said, and for the first time, the mercenaries took note of how it looked different, softer than usual.
“Okay, little softer than usual,” Hurricane said, “but…”
“’Tis moon light, fools!” Hrist snapped, “glass made from sand of that dead orb itself! They are unstoppable here!”
“Easily solved,” Hurricane aimed his berretta at the ceiling, and pulled the trigger twice. The glass in front of the lights sparked, but did not crack.
“Did thou not think that they would think of the same thing?” Hrist snapped.
Hurricane glanced towards the Dogs of War, now climbing to their feet.
“Okay everyone,” Hurricane said, “new plan. Get Hrist and Thrill Blade free, I’ll hold them off. Then we run, find a better battlefield.”
“How do you plan on doing that?” Scorpion demanded, “you have any silver bullets in that gun?”
“Nope.”
Hurricane pulled the trigger once, and the cybernetic eye of a Dogs of War exploded in a flurry of glass and sparks.
“But I’m a decent shot. Now hurry up.”
Scorpion and Mr. Raven went to Hrist and Thrill Blade’s side immediately, trying to free them.
“I can help you but time,” Warcry said, as she took a place beside Hurricane, “allow me a moment.”
Warcry then screamed again, but a frequency no human being could hear.
Hurricane watched, as the Dogs of War clutched their heads, their eardrums exploding.
Hurricane observed the sadistic smile on Warcry’s face.
“You’re enjoying this a little too much.”
“We’re criminals,” Warcry replied, “make peace with your dark side.”
Hrist chuckled, as Mr. Raven removed a small laser torch, and turned it towards a link in the chain.
“The metal ‘tis secondary adamantium,” Hrist said, “thou would need a star to cut through it.”
“Then what do you suggest?” Mr. Raven fought to keep from looking back at the werewolves, and their slow advance.
“Magic,” Hrist said, “assist the marksman and screamer. I’ll handle this.”
“Alright,” Mr. Raven drew his guns, “Scorpion, you heard the lady. Lets buy them some time.”
The two turned towards the Dogs of War, and unleashed their abilities.
“Well?” Thrill Blade said “magic us out of here!”
“Thrill Blade,” Hrist said, her voice calm, “you need to cut us out of here with your sword.”
“Me? What about your equipment?”
“They secured it too well,” Hrist replied, “bound their enchantment in these chains. To retrieve them, I need break these. Actually rather clever. But they dismissed your blade.”
“What? Why?”
“Because I am of Asgard, and you a boy soldier who found a toy of magic.”
“I’m not…”
“A child with a flame thrower?” Hrist said.
“Hey, I served in the Royal Airforce,” Thrill Blade defended.
“You found a weapon, and wielded its power without regard for the consequences,” said Hrist, “its bound to you, its victim, until your last breath.”
“I’m not it’s victim,” Thrill Blade snapped, growing angry.
Hrist hesitated, for only a moment.
“Tell that to Alley-Cat.” Hrist replied, and then added a dose of magic to the next words, saying, “remember.”
Thrill Blade felt as if someone had slapped him, and his head began to swim.
“We have to get out of here,” Alley-Cat said, “I’ve got kids…!”
Without looking at his friend, Thrill Blade plunged his sword into her gut.
“…Thrill Blade?”
Alley-Cat, who thought herself a friend to Thrill Blade, was as stunned by his betrayal as she was by the wound. She fell out, and couldn’t believe the look of horror and confusion on Thrill Blade’s face when he turned to her.
“Oh God, no…” Thrill Blade went to her side, horror on his face.
“Thrill Blade…t…tell me, why me?”
Thrill Blade could barely breathe, as he realized what he’d done.
“Thy blade was made with the heart of a succubus,” Hrist said, though Thrill Blade could barely hear her, “thy passion, and that of thy victims fuels it.”
Thrill Blade began banging his head on the back of the column, as a flood of memories returned.
A bead of sweat trickled down Hurricane’s forehead.
The Dogs of War, all seven of them, moved at glacial speed. Hurricane had shot out their eyes, knees and elbows.
And still they came.
Warcry turned their eyes to liquid, and exploded their ear drums.
And still they came.
Mr. Raven produced two grenades no larger than lighters, that spewed out blue flame.
And still they came.
Metal claws, electronic eyes, teeth powerful enough to rend metal, inched towards them, and Hurricane idly wondered how far they could run before these bastards tore them limb from limb.
A scream sliced through the room, of such power, of such force, that it took Hurricane a second to realize that he hadn’t heard the scream, but felt it.
The mercenaries turned around as one and saw Thrill Blade standing there, claymore in hand.
The mystic sword pulsed, as the air around them became thick and heavy. Hurricane and the others soon realized that they could actually feel the emotion in the air.
“Arrghhh!”
Thrill Blade screamed, and darted past his fellow mercanries, tackling the Dogs of War as one.
“Thrill Blade!”
Hurricane tried to rush to his ally’s side, but Hrist grabbed him before he could make a step.
“Leave him,” Hrist said, “he is now bound to the sword by magic Odin himself could not break.”
“We can’ leave him behind!”
“How is he still alive?” Scorpion said.
When she saw Thrill Blade tackle the Dogs of War, she had expected a quick and violent end.
But instead, Thrill Blade was throwing them around like rag dolls. One managed to get in close, and rake his claws against Thrill Blade’s chest.
But the watched in astonishment as the wound healed nearly as quickly as it was made, and Thrill Blade knocked the werewolf away.
“’Tis a feedback loop,” Hrist said, “the sword can absorb and amplify emotion. It’s been using him since the beginning.”
“Hurricane, we have to go,” Mr. Raven said, “these bastards are unkillable here. We need to make our stand anywhere else.”
“And leave a man behind?” Hurricane demanded.
“Do you really think you could reach him?” Warcry said, “feel free to try.”
“God damn it!” Hurricane was too skilled a soldier to pretend like they had any other choice, “let’s get the hell out of here, and find someplace where we can kill these bastards.”
The job in Kosovo.
The train car assault.
The Iceland incident.
Memories of provocation and betrayal slammed Thrill Blade’s mind, fueling a rage that formed into a maelstrom by his sword.
Thrill Blade’s heart was pounding as he sliced one werewolf, though his mind was a hundred miles away, remembering when he drove two married members of his crew to kill one another.
Only now did Thrill Blade realize that he didn’t wield this magic sword, it wielded him.
And there could be only one possible response to that.
Thrill Blade opened his sword hand.
And welcomed what came next.
Andi Hunter had barely stepped out of the elevator before she felt the Solution’s hand around her throat.
“You traitorous little bitch,” the Solution picked her up by her neck, “my friends are dead because of you!”
“What are you talking about?” Andi knew she was in trouble, but the first thing an agent learned was to never to break cover under duress, “I was doing a security sweep!”
“We have video,” Damien Dran explained, as he entered the room, “I verified it myself. So spare us your denials. I’m tempted to have Solution just tear your head off here and now.”
“I’m pregnant,” Andi Hunter knew it was a mistake, but she couldn’t think of any other way to protect herself and her unborn child from Dran’s rage, “Mr. Raven offered me a way out, to not have my child raised surrounded criminals.”
The twitch in Dran’s eye terrified Andi. If it was just her life on the line, she would have gladly spit in the man’s face, and God did she ever want to. But it wasn’t just her life anymore, and survival was everything right now.
“You can’t believe her bullshit,” Solution said, “just say the word, and I’ll tear her in half.”
“Your revenge will simply have to be delayed by a few months,” Dran replied, “but as compensation, I’ll bring in some specialists regarding the infliction of pain. Satisfactory?”
When Solution smiled at her, Andi felt her skin crawl.
“Now follow me. I’m certain that Andi has given these interlopers a skeleton key to our systems, and they’re after me. We need to activate the Omega Protocol.”
Andi’s blood went cold, “You don’t need to do that. You have no idea how dangerous enacting it would be!”
“I know, you’ve left me no other choice.”
One corridor and elevator ride later…
“They won’t rest until we’re dead,” Warcry said, “the Dogs of War are infamous for running their enemies to ground. We need to find a place to take a stand.”
“Well, that’s fine with me,” Hurricane growled, “because I’m tired of running.”
“Running would be unwise,” Hrist said, “the wolves have taxed their magic with their technology and battle with the Thrill Blade. We will never have a better opportunity to kill them then now.”
“Lets find us a kill box, then,” said Mr. Raven.
Elsewhere…
Beads of sweat trickled down Felix Drummer’s forehead, as he and The Solution made their way down to a vault that hadn’t seen a single visitor since it was installed.
“Are you sure the boss wants to do this?” Felix looked at Solution, pleading.
“You heard him, same as me,” Solution replied, “you saw his mood, but hey, if you want to go back and ask…”
“No, God no,” Felix said, “lets just get this over with.”
Felix and Solution placed their hands against two palm readers, opposite of one another.
The room trembled as the vibranium doors slowly creaked open, and a blinding light began to spill outwards.
Drummer wore a pair of specially designed goggles, but even then the light seemed to cut through him.
“Never thought I’d see this thing again,” Solution said, his android eyes immune to the searing light.
Felix Drummer swallowed, as he cast his eyes on a Cosmic Cube, power washing off of it waves. A more motivated man might have been tempted to take the powerful artifact then and there, but Felix was one of five people trusted with the combination because he knew of the Cube’s flaw.
To see the dangerous design flaws, you needed goggles attuned to certain frequencies, but the Cube itself had several spider-web like cracks in it. Created by RAID, it had been stolen by The Solution not long after his creation, and bartered to Dran.
Dran had wisely kept it in reserve, and paid a team of super scientists to build a machine that could safely extract the seething energy, and make use of the Cosmic Cube as it was originally intended.
But the fact that it was literally broken, and designed to alter reality itself made Felix Drummer wish he’d chosen a different career, as he began the process to activate it. Enough energy to power the entire United States began flooding the conduits.
The Dogs of War stepped off the elevator, blood dripping from their fangs and claws, yet they remained hungry for more.
But after two steps, they found themselves gripped in a primal fear that froze their legs, even though they were veterans of a hundred battles. Animal instincts began screaming at them, deafening, paralyzing.
“That feeling?” Warcry whispered in their ear, “it’s infrasound. A frequency that triggers fear in both man and beast.”
“And you’re both.”
The adrenaline of battle vanished in an instant, replaced with a fear unlike anything the Dogs of War had ever felt.
Warcry sent her sonics into each of them, and they resonated like tuning forks.
“Thou should have used thy moonlight to rest and heal. Instead, you have taxed the curse within you.”
A uru axe sent sailing through the air, and split the skull of one werewolf.
“T’was unwise, bitches.”
Mr. Raven leveled both his pistols, and bullets filled with special flechette darts were sent flying. One unlucky werewolf caught a bullet through his cybernetic eye, and lived just long enough to feel the bullet break apart into tiny metal splinters in his brain.
Hurricane pulled the trigger on his shot gun twice, firing two solid slugs. One through the eye of his enemy, the second through the werewolf’s mouth, exploding out the back.
Only one Dog of War regained enough of his wits to lunge at his enemies, but he happened in the path of Hrist’s uru axe as it was returning, ripping him in twain, just below the ribs.
“Wolves,” Hrist walked towards the downed Dog of War. She pressed her heel against the mystic creature’s head, “I doth loath you.”
Hrist began applying pressure, but slowly. This was something she wanted to savor.
“Have we finished them all?” said Hrist.
“I think I saw one slink off,” Scorpion said, as she stepped forward.
“General Tier,” Mr. Raven said, “looks like he slipped away.”
Hrist smirked, “I assure thee, mortal, that he did not.”
General Tier felt no shame as he slinked away from his men. He had watched the life-signs disappear on his internal HUD, and simply noted that he had recreated his pack before. He could do it again.
“Hey.”
General Tier froze.
“Want to hear something special?”
The wave of sonic energy struck General Tier like a wave rejoining the ocean. The sonics melted into his body, seeping into muscle and tissue, rattling his entire body as if he were in a one-man earthquake.
Then the pitch surged, and General Tier could feel the exact instant all his bones broke like twigs. He slid to the ground like a ragdoll, his nerves too scrambled to transmit pain.
“I studied sonics and acoustics for five years before that occurred to me,” Warcry said, “the men and women I practiced on may not have deserved it as much as you, but it was close.”
Warcry grabbed General Tier by the ankles, and pulled him into the center of the hallway, so that his body was flush with the floor.
“Please…wait,” General Tier begged, “don’t do this…”
“I’ve dreamed of this day every day since you and yours slaughtered my family,” Warcry hissed, “I’ve spilled an ocean of blood to get here, and I’d spill another if I had to.”
“Don’t…”
Warcry smiled, as for the first time in her adult life, the weight on her shoulders became a little lighter, “Why would I ever spare your life?”
“Your sister, she’s still alive.”
And just like that, Warcry felt the crushing weight return.
“…what?”
“Your sister,” General Tier gasped, “she’s alive. We…”
“You sold her,” Warcry growled, “after you did God knows what to her.”
General Tier, cursed with the spirit of a werewolf for over four decades, thought he knew fury, thought he knew rage.
But his enhanced senses were now telling him that he’d so very naïve.
“Unless you can produce her, right here, right now,” Warcry trembled with rage, “then I’ll have to assume you are lying. And do what I came to do anyways.”
Warcry didn’t even hear General Tier’s last words, as she readied the scream she had been preparing for almost her entire life.
Warcry directed a narrow wave of sonic at General Tier’s skull, and slowly increased the intensity.
General Tier felt the skin around his face beginning to peel backwards, like an onion. The healing abilities of his supernatural curse fought back as best it could, but it was for naught.
Then the General felt his eyes, as they shook into a glue-like paste.
Seeing that, Warcry changed the frequency and pitch of her, and her sonic energy flowed inside of General Tier’s skull. The African merc only stopped when she saw something gray trickling out of his ears.
“Goodbye, General,” Warcry stomped on the empty skull.
Warcry looked at the headless corpse of her foe, and suddenly felt dizzy. She had spent so much of herself in hunting him down, in slaughtering the Dogs of War for what they’d done to her family.
Never once did Warcry actually think that she would have pulled it off and survived, nor did she ever think that her sister might still be alive.
Barely able to think, Warcry saw the world around her changing, and beginning to spin. She began to feel dizzy, and stumbled to her knees.
“Mortal fool!” Hrist shouted, seconds before she landed in front of Warcry, from high above.
The mere act left Warcry baffled, as they were inside of a building, with precious little space in which for Hrist to jump from.
The fog lifted from Warcry’s mind in an instant, and what she thought had simply been shock was in fact the world spinning. The building had been split apart like it was a giant jinja tower. Warcry spotted Scorpion, Hurricane and Mr. Raven on a panel of floor several stories up.
“Oh, this is not good,” Warcry observed.
“Thy grasp of the obvious is strong,” Hrist replied, “now close your mouth, I need to concentrate.”
Hrist threw Warcry over her shoulder like she was a sack of flour, and leapt towards a piece of flooring two stories above them, just barely making it. Hrist spun around, located her friends.
“Hold on!” Hrist said, before leaping again.
“To what, why?” Warcry said, before she felt smash through one wall, and then a moment later, another.
Warcry looked behind, and saw many separate parts of the building beginning to move towards them.
“Faster, we need to move faster!”
Hrist leapt another two stories, “If thou can help, help. Otherwise, close thy mouth!”
Hrist landed on a platform only a few yards from her comrades, but watched helplessly as their platform began to rise, higher and higher.
With only seconds to consider her options Hrist decided on a Hail Mary, and grabbed her axe.
“Hurricane, catch!”
“What?”
Hurricane barely saw the axe that was sent flying towards his head. Instinct took over, and he grabbed the handle just in time to keep it from splitting his skull.
“Hold on!” Hrist shouted, and sent her will through the enchantment.
Hurricane planted his feet, and it felt as if he were in a tug of war with a Rhino.
Below, Hrist found herself yanked from her feet as intended. She had worked the enchantment on her axes so that in emergencies, if they could not return to her, she could return to them.
Warcry, who had no idea how exactly Hrist was flying, snapped her head from side to side in a panic, and realized that they were in between two very large metal rooms, that were moving closer and closer.
“Faster, we have to go faster!”
“Physics won’t let me!”
“Damn you mortals and your limitations!”
Hrist and Warcry crashed into Hurricane mere moments before Hell’s Peak, and all the dangerous pieces that made it up, were returned to their natural form.
“…not how I want to be under two women,” Hurricane groaned.
“Feh, you should be honored, mortal,” Hrist said as she stood up. She took her axe from Hurricane, then pulled the man to his feet.
“Okay, what the hell was that?” said Scorpion, “the entire building took itself apart like it was made of damn legos!”
“Dran’s Omega Protocol,” Mr. Raven said, “in the event of a raid by the Avengers or someone in their league, all habitats or vaults with Alpha level threats or above are placed immediately atop them. He knows we’re coming for him, and just put a minefield in our way.”
“Good,” Hurricane said.
“How the hell is that good?” Scorpion snapped.
“Because Dran is terrified of us,” replied Hurricane, “lets go show him why he’s right to be.”
Next issue: The end approaches, as another cast member’s life hangs in the balance!