"Man, I'm absolutely starving. Do you think the boss would get pissed if we took a trip to the snack machine?"
Robbie cocked his head at the man sitting across the hall from him. "Mike, Jesus man, we just had lunch like an hour ago!"
"I know, I know. But, still...you can't say a candy bar or something doesn't sound good right now."
Robbie sighed as he braced his rifle against the wall. Fingers dug into his tired eyes in an attempt to alleviate the heavy feeling in them. He hated working the graveyard shift, especially when Mike was partnered with him. "Look, we can't just abandon our post. Mr. Hammer will have our asses for breakfast if we're caught."
"Well, how about you cover for me, and I'll get some snacks for both of us?" Mike grinned, hoping his suggestion would go through.
Robbie dropped his shoulders, and after a few moments of silence, finally chirped back up, "Do it fast."
"Score!" the younger man exclaimed as he jumped from his seat. "What do you want from the machines?"
"Just bring me back a Pepsi," Robbie said, picking up the magazine from his lap, "and hurry your ass."
Mike started into a brisk walk down the hallway, rounding the corner after about two dozen long strides. The snack machines were in sight, and the thought of food just made his stomach ache even more. Finally standing before the dispenser, he hit upon a quandary. "What the hell do I want?"
Without warning, the guard felt something wrap around his neck. The cord constricted, cutting off his oxygen before a breath could be taken. He heard the snap half a second before he was jerked backward, the cord pulling him to the ground violently. He looked up from his position on the floor, hands struggling to free his throat from the tendril of pain. At that moment, a massive electrical charge erupted from the weapon, sending several thousand volts of energy coursing through his body. He succumbed to unconsciousness as smoke rose from his form.
Robbie thumbed through the issue of Maxim that rested in his lap, his fingers passing over the pages filled with text. Finally coming across the six-page pictorial of Carmen Electra, Robbie halted his search. Taking in the images like a young child in a toy store, he failed to notice the curved, white object that flew around the corner at a high velocity. As the silent boomerang made its way closer, a small antenna flipped from the center. Before Robbie even noticed its presence, the weapon flew past him, a barrage of sonic fury emitting from it's internal circuitry. Robbie fell from his chair almost immediately, his brain unable to process the piercing scream. Blood ran from his nose as his face collided with the linoleum floor, marking the white tiles with crimson.
"Told you that my screamerang would get the job done, mates," Boomerang stated as he and his two companions, Blacklash and Blizzard, made their way down the hallway.
"I still say it would've been easier for me to just freeze 'em," Blizzard complained as they stopped at the door the two guards had been stationed.
"Yeah, and then Hammer would know who did this," Blacklash replied as he uncurled his whip. "I would suggest you stand back."
Boomerang, placing his hand firmly across the man's shoulder, forced Blizzard to take several steps backward. Blacklash cracked his energy intensive whip furiously, the coil connecting with the electronic door lock in front of him. The circuits immediately popped and fizzled, fusing together as a result of the massive electric charge administered by the whip. Disarming his weapon with a slight depression of a button on the handle, Blacklash paused for a quick smirk. He then lifted his leg and shoved, his foot colliding hard with the door, providing enough pressure to almost remove it from the hinges.
"You're up, Blizz," Blacklash said as he stared into the darkened room, "time to make yourself useful."
"Shove it, Mark," was the younger man's only reply as he pushed him out of the doorway. The lenses in Blizzard's mask cycled through various spectrums of light as he searched for the one needed, stopping when the infrared laser beams that crisscrossed the floor came to light. The temperature immediately began to drop, with Blacklash and Boomerang quickly able to see their breath in the chilled air. Blizzard watched the beams slowly fade away, the receptors coated in thin sheets of ice. "We're in."
Robbie cocked his head at the man sitting across the hall from him. "Mike, Jesus man, we just had lunch like an hour ago!"
"I know, I know. But, still...you can't say a candy bar or something doesn't sound good right now."
Robbie sighed as he braced his rifle against the wall. Fingers dug into his tired eyes in an attempt to alleviate the heavy feeling in them. He hated working the graveyard shift, especially when Mike was partnered with him. "Look, we can't just abandon our post. Mr. Hammer will have our asses for breakfast if we're caught."
"Well, how about you cover for me, and I'll get some snacks for both of us?" Mike grinned, hoping his suggestion would go through.
Robbie dropped his shoulders, and after a few moments of silence, finally chirped back up, "Do it fast."
"Score!" the younger man exclaimed as he jumped from his seat. "What do you want from the machines?"
"Just bring me back a Pepsi," Robbie said, picking up the magazine from his lap, "and hurry your ass."
Mike started into a brisk walk down the hallway, rounding the corner after about two dozen long strides. The snack machines were in sight, and the thought of food just made his stomach ache even more. Finally standing before the dispenser, he hit upon a quandary. "What the hell do I want?"
Without warning, the guard felt something wrap around his neck. The cord constricted, cutting off his oxygen before a breath could be taken. He heard the snap half a second before he was jerked backward, the cord pulling him to the ground violently. He looked up from his position on the floor, hands struggling to free his throat from the tendril of pain. At that moment, a massive electrical charge erupted from the weapon, sending several thousand volts of energy coursing through his body. He succumbed to unconsciousness as smoke rose from his form.
Robbie thumbed through the issue of Maxim that rested in his lap, his fingers passing over the pages filled with text. Finally coming across the six-page pictorial of Carmen Electra, Robbie halted his search. Taking in the images like a young child in a toy store, he failed to notice the curved, white object that flew around the corner at a high velocity. As the silent boomerang made its way closer, a small antenna flipped from the center. Before Robbie even noticed its presence, the weapon flew past him, a barrage of sonic fury emitting from it's internal circuitry. Robbie fell from his chair almost immediately, his brain unable to process the piercing scream. Blood ran from his nose as his face collided with the linoleum floor, marking the white tiles with crimson.
"Told you that my screamerang would get the job done, mates," Boomerang stated as he and his two companions, Blacklash and Blizzard, made their way down the hallway.
"I still say it would've been easier for me to just freeze 'em," Blizzard complained as they stopped at the door the two guards had been stationed.
"Yeah, and then Hammer would know who did this," Blacklash replied as he uncurled his whip. "I would suggest you stand back."
Boomerang, placing his hand firmly across the man's shoulder, forced Blizzard to take several steps backward. Blacklash cracked his energy intensive whip furiously, the coil connecting with the electronic door lock in front of him. The circuits immediately popped and fizzled, fusing together as a result of the massive electric charge administered by the whip. Disarming his weapon with a slight depression of a button on the handle, Blacklash paused for a quick smirk. He then lifted his leg and shoved, his foot colliding hard with the door, providing enough pressure to almost remove it from the hinges.
"You're up, Blizz," Blacklash said as he stared into the darkened room, "time to make yourself useful."
"Shove it, Mark," was the younger man's only reply as he pushed him out of the doorway. The lenses in Blizzard's mask cycled through various spectrums of light as he searched for the one needed, stopping when the infrared laser beams that crisscrossed the floor came to light. The temperature immediately began to drop, with Blacklash and Boomerang quickly able to see their breath in the chilled air. Blizzard watched the beams slowly fade away, the receptors coated in thin sheets of ice. "We're in."
Back to GatefoldIssue #14 by Chris Munn
REMNANTS AND REVENANTS - Part 2 of 3 |
Melissa Gold sighed to herself as she flipped through the television channels, searching (apparently in vain) for something to take her mind off her dying friend in the next room. She could hear the coughing and moaning of Erik Josten, despite the ear-splitting volume of the television. It was almost enough to make her break into tears.
How long had it been since the two had seen each other? Factually speaking, it had only been a month since the Thunderbolts had made the decision to split up, but in her heart it felt much longer. After what had happened, especially between Erik and Karla, she truly hadn't expected to ever see any of them again. Especially not Erik, who by their last meeting had grown weary of the hero life. To be fair, they'd all tired of the constant running and hiding from both sides of the law, but she believed that he wished a return to his criminal past.
"The life of crime is a hard one to turn from."
Melissa jumped from the couch, spinning around to see the face behind the surprising voice. Standing in the doorway of the bedroom was a strikingly handsome man, dressed in a black suit coat, white button-up shirt, and blue jeans. He smiled as he ran a hand through his tousled blonde hair, his other hand occupied by the burning cigarette resting between middle and forefinger. His eyes were a pupil-less white, reflecting light like small mirrored orbs inside his head.
"Who are you?" Melissa asked, ready to attack at the first notice of threat. "How did you get in here?"
"Your colleagues will be calling in a moment," he replied, following the statement up with a slow drag on his cigarette, "and I think you may be disappointed."
"Yeah, okay, and you know this how?"
Before the stranger could answer, the telephone screamed to life. Missy turned her head slowly, wondering whether she should turn her attention away from the intruder long enough to pick up the reciever.
"You gonna answer that?" the mystery asked. "Might be important."
Melissa backed up slightly, crouching down to place her hand on the phone. "Make a move, and I'll blow you into the next room," she said quietly as she picked up the reciever and placed it to her ear. "Hello?"
"Missy, its Donny. We're on our way back now, and I'm sorry...but we didn't find anything."
"It's okay. Love you too. Bye."
"Well?" the stranger asked, stomping his cigarette out on the carpet. "Was it everything you hoped for?"
"Not quite. You're name is...?"
"You can call me Mr. White. I must insist that you and Erik come with me now, Melissa. Before your significant other returns, of course."
"Whatever. Say bye-bye, Mr. White."
The mysterious man shot Melissa a curious look as she waved a short sign of farewell. Without warning, a piercing scream erupted from her throat, hitting the man with enough force to knock him off his feet. The siren continued her song, blowing a large hole through the back of the apartment, sending Mr. White, along with the entire bathroom, sailing into the night sky.
"Shit," Melissa muttered to herself as she surveyed the damage that she'd caused, "sorry Donny."
"That was rather rude," the same pleasing voice as before said from the destroyed bathroom. Melissa gasped as White emerged, completely unscathed, from the wreckage, another lit cigarette inserted into his now scowling mouth. "Is it my turn now?"
# # # # # # # # # #
Here we go, I'm hanging out in Camden, drinking with my girlfriends on a Saturday night.
This guy says "come and meet my girlfriend, she's sitting in the corner looking rather uptight."
So I say hello and I try to be nice, but I see he's feeling itchy.
Trying to play us off each other, "girls, girls please don't fight".
Rachel danced to the loud music that blared from her stereo's speaker system. Wearing nothing but a matching set of silk bra and panties, her body writhed in time with the rhythm, her long pink hair flailing left to right as the singer's voice sped along. The guy on the couch, watching intently, could do nothing but smile.
"I don't think I've ever heard this song before," he said loudly, attempting to be heard over the music. Rachel gave a huge grin before launching herself toward the couch, flopping down beside him with a giggle.
"It's a few years old, by this great all-chick Brit-rock band called Lush," she replied, pulling her hair back into a ponytail, "song's called Ladykiller."
"Interesting title," he said, returning her smile. Rachel couldn't help but stare into his eyes, something about the man she'd only met a few hours ago that compelled her to be with him. Even in the crowded bar, she could almost feel his presence.
"Did you know I used to be a superhero?" she blurted out, not really thinking about what came out of her mouth. "Yeah, I used to date Captain America, if you can believe that. I was his sidekick, even went by one of those tacky little codenames. 'Diamondback'...ugh, I still kinda cringe when I say it."
"I know," he replied, still smiling at her. "In fact, I know all about you, Rachel. I'm somewhat of a super-heroine groupie, sad to say..."
Rachel started to laugh, her eyes still locked in a stare with his. "You're kidding, right?"
"Scout's honor," he said, placing one hand on his heart and the other into the air.
"Well, you know I'm not one anymore," she said, her cheeks beginning to turn red from blushing, "I gave that up a few years ago."
"That's okay," he said as he leaned in to kiss her, "it doesn't matter to me."
# # # # # # # # # #
Mr. White took a slow drag from his cigarette, his eyes sternly focused on the young woman before him. He could feel the night air on the back of his neck, coming in from the hole his opponent had blown in the wall only moments ago. Sighing to himself, he exhaled the smoke and began to walk forward...he so hoped he wouldn't have to break a sweat.
"What do you want?" Melissa asked, taking a few steps back from the advancing intruder.
"Mr. Hammer paid for Gill's apartment, girl, one of the perks of being in his employment. But did you really think he actually trusts any of his associates? He's had this place bugged since the day Blizzard moved in, and the moment your boys left, I was sent to retrieve you."
"You can try," she muttered, immediately launching a roundhouse kick in the man's direction. To her utter surprise, her foot passed through his head with nary a flinch in his demeanor, almost as if he were a ghost.
"You were saying?" he asked sarcastically. Before Melissa could respond, a tremor shook the building violently. Falling to the ground, Melissa quickly raised her head to find Mr. White unmoved. "Did you do that?" he asked, confusion in his voice.
"I thought you did," she replied, echoing the man's confusion. Both turned their heads toward the front door of the apartment as several hard knocks sounded off. A moment of hesitation later, the wood exploded outward, a hulking orange creature crashing his way through the entranceway.
"What the fuck is that?" Melissa asked frantically, pushing herself backward across the floor.
The creature cried out in a guttural bellow of rage, muscles flexing beneath the large armored plates that formed a shell around its body. It lunged forward, the massive claws that doubled as fingers ripping through the plaster walls like they were as much paper.
"I don't know, but I suggest we don't stick around to ask it's social security number," Mr. White stated calmly, placing his hand across Melissa's shoulder. Almost immediately, both individuals fell through the floor, as if it were never there at all.
"Wait, what about Erik?" Melissa broke away from White's grip upon reaching the floor of the apartment below them. Suddenly, the window to the home exploded inward, a half-naked man landing on all fours amidst the shattered glass. Baring his teeth, the animal/man growled fiercely before pouncing toward Melissa.
The bionic muscles in her throat tensed, yet another piercing cry erupting forth toward the feral beast man jumping toward her. The attacker howled in pain from the sonic onslaught, but his momentum still carried him forward, his flailing body colliding hard with the still screaming woman. His claws dug into her shoulders, and as the two hit the ground, his hands moved upward toward her throat. After a few frantic slashes, the assailant successfully halted the young woman's attack.
"I had dibs on her first, freakshow," White stated as he kicked the beast man hard in the teeth. Before he could press his attack, however, a beam rocketed downward from the ceiling, connecting forcefully with the back of his head. The orange monstrosity crashed down onto the apartment's floor from the room above, the comatose Erik Josten in its grasp. Mr. White could feel himself being scooped up by the creature right before he lost consciousness.
# # # # # # # # # #
"What is your name?"
"Dimitri Bukharin."
"Where are from?"
"The Slovensk Province of Russia."
"In what capacity did you serve the KGB?"
"I served two terms as the state's appointed Crimson Dynamo, from 1987 until 1991. Upon the dissolution of my employers, I took a new identity and gained passage to America."
"What happened after your arrival in this country?"
"After a very brief try at work-for-hire, I was defeated by the Hulk and imprisoned in the Vault. I escaped during the terrorist strike on the facility."
Henry Gyrich smiled as he butted his cigarette into the ashtray resting on his desk. "Very good, Mr. Jenkins. I think you're ready to be released."
Abe scowled beneath the helmet of the Airstrike armor system. "About damn time."
# # # # # # # # # #
"Oh shit," Donny muttered as he entered the ruins of his apartment, Boomerang and Blacklash following close behind. The three surveyed the damage done to the walls and the gaping hole in both the bathroom wall and living room floor, quickly assuming the worst for the two people they'd left behind.
"Mimi's gone," Fred stated grimly, "Josten with 'er. Think Hammer got wind of us?"
"Fuck, fuck, FUCK!" were the only words Donny could force out as he slammed his fist against one of the remaining walls.
"Look, whatever happened here, we've got to prioritize," Mark said as he placed a calming hand across Blizzard's shoulder. "Hammer owns the building, which means police won't be a problem. But, what are we gonna say happened when our employer's security forces get here?"
"So what are you saying we do?" Donny asked, pulling the mask away from his face.
"What do you think we're gonna do?" Mark replied sternly. "We get as far away from here as humanly possible."
# # # # # # # # # #
Melissa painfully came back to consciousness, the cuts on her arms and neck burning intensely. Her arms and legs were tied down to what appeared to be an operating table of sorts, a bright light shining down on her from above. Though still incredibly weak, she managed to turn her head to the left, seeing both the mysterious Mr. White and the still coughing and wheezing Eric strapped to identical tables.
"Melissa Joan Schwartz," a high-pitched voice said from behind her, the speaker's form hidden from her view, "how you've grown. To think, you've come so far since the last time we saw each other. I feel almost like a proud parent, I must say."
Melissa strained her neck to see her captor, though she already knew his identity. Slowly, a small man in a white lab-coat made his way around her restrained body, rubbing his fingers against the exposed skin of her arms. She could see the fear in her face reflected back off of his mirrored glasses, the scalpel held in his hands causing her anxiety to rise further.
"Dr. Malus," she managed to choke out, her voice weakened considerably from the beast man's claws. The doctor shot her a wicked smile. Melissa fought back tears, the sight of Karl Malus chilling her to the bone. He was a scientist, a surgeon, contracted to give super villains augmented powers. He especially liked doing so without the benefit of anesthetics.
"When I sent Erik back out into the city, I secretly hoped he'd find you first. I'm getting paid equally for all of you, but..." he hesitated for a moment, running the edge of the scalpel down the middle of her chest, slicing open her shirt, "I'm sure you understand the sentimental value behind acquiring both you and Josten first. After all, if not for me, neither of you would exist."
"Why are you doing this?" she asked, unable to activate the bionic implants in her throat. Malus continued, ignoring her question completely.
"Such a shame that Titania and Letha had to die so tragically, don't you think? I had such high hopes for you Unlimited Class Wrestlers at the time, just as I had hopes for Erik when I transformed him into Goliath all those years ago. You see how he turned out, dear...dying from an overexposure of ionic energy. He was the easiest to find, of course. Hell, I'm still searching for the Sofen woman. But don't you worry, as you discovered earlier, I have my ways of procuring subjects."
"Monsters..."
"Yes, yes, I suppose they are. Mad-Dog and Armadillo aren't the most sociable lackeys in the world, but they do get the job done." Malus paused again, licking his lips as he squeezed the immobile woman's left breast firmly. "Are we ready to begin?"
"Please, no..." Melissa protested in vain, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. The doctor merely shook his head slowly as he raised the scalpel to her throat.
"Let's start with those pesky vocal chords of yours, shall we?"
# # # # # # # # # #
He washed his hands briskly under the cascading bathroom sink, humming along to the music that still blared from the stereo. The compact disc had played completely through, now repeating itself for the third time. He recognized the song as the one that Rachel had danced to earlier.
Oh, you're such a ladykiller, always on a winner, thinking that you're in there.
Taking care not to step in the crimson pools that covered the bedroom floor, he made his way to the spot where his shirt had fell. He pulled it on, thoroughly inspecting it for stains of any kind.
Oh boy, you're such a ladykiller, super sexy mister, call it what you will.
Taking one final look at his handy work, he lit a cigarette and reveled in his art. Her body was exquisite, so tight and taut, like nothing he'd experienced before. If his mind hadn't been made, the past few hours would have cinched it for him. Super powered women were definitely the way to go.
You think you're such a ladykiller, I just bet you're still there, posing in the mirror.
Finally, he turned away and headed for the door, leaving the broken and bloody body of Rachel Leighton tossed across the bed. "Ladykiller...I kinda like the sound of that."
Hey girls, he's such a ladykiller, but we know where he's coming from and we know the score.
# # # # # # # # # #
Next Issue: Okay, so the promised return of Baron Zemo didn't happen this issue...but he'll definitely be showing up next issue! So what happens when a dying, drug-addled guy with the ability to grow several stories in height decides to take his anger out on NYC? Find out in Thunderbolts # 15, 'natch!
# # # # # # # # # #
LIGHTNING STRIKES
First off, I want to thank both Brent Lambert and Dino Pollard for giving my first issue such excellent reviews on the Heroes list and the M2K board (respectively). Double kudos to Brent for launching his "Kill Blizzard Horribly" campaign. You crazy kids, I swear.
Next on the agenda, we have a letter here from M2K alumni Steve (Ultimate Avengers) Crosby! Here's what Steve-O had to say about # 13:
Heheh, "Killer B's". I really should start charging for all the wonderful ideas I give out. Terrific issue, Chris. Gyrich is an asshole, the Scourge is on the loose, MACH-1 goes undercover, and once again I'm seeing the insight into the criminal world that Busiek started and Nicieza fucked up on. Good work.
Thankayewverrahmuch, Steve. I appreciate the kind words, and echo the Busiek/Nicieza sentiments. Stick around, 'cause I hope to infuse the book with some of that good ol' head-scratchin' mystery that Busiek did so well in the first year-or-so of the book. Oh, and yes...Crosby is the one responsible for coining the "Killer B's" term. Told you I wouldn't forget the shout out!
Chris Munn
08/22/02
BIBLIOGRAPHY- Karl Malus was last seen (I believe, don't quote me on this) in Captain America # 330. Among his "accomplishments" in the super-villain world are Goliath, Songbird, the Armadillo, Daddy Long Legs, and most of the Unlimited Class Wrestlers. He also performed experiments on Jack Russell, the Werewolf by Night.
- Alas, poor Diamondback...we hardly knew ye.
How long had it been since the two had seen each other? Factually speaking, it had only been a month since the Thunderbolts had made the decision to split up, but in her heart it felt much longer. After what had happened, especially between Erik and Karla, she truly hadn't expected to ever see any of them again. Especially not Erik, who by their last meeting had grown weary of the hero life. To be fair, they'd all tired of the constant running and hiding from both sides of the law, but she believed that he wished a return to his criminal past.
"The life of crime is a hard one to turn from."
Melissa jumped from the couch, spinning around to see the face behind the surprising voice. Standing in the doorway of the bedroom was a strikingly handsome man, dressed in a black suit coat, white button-up shirt, and blue jeans. He smiled as he ran a hand through his tousled blonde hair, his other hand occupied by the burning cigarette resting between middle and forefinger. His eyes were a pupil-less white, reflecting light like small mirrored orbs inside his head.
"Who are you?" Melissa asked, ready to attack at the first notice of threat. "How did you get in here?"
"Your colleagues will be calling in a moment," he replied, following the statement up with a slow drag on his cigarette, "and I think you may be disappointed."
"Yeah, okay, and you know this how?"
Before the stranger could answer, the telephone screamed to life. Missy turned her head slowly, wondering whether she should turn her attention away from the intruder long enough to pick up the reciever.
"You gonna answer that?" the mystery asked. "Might be important."
Melissa backed up slightly, crouching down to place her hand on the phone. "Make a move, and I'll blow you into the next room," she said quietly as she picked up the reciever and placed it to her ear. "Hello?"
"Missy, its Donny. We're on our way back now, and I'm sorry...but we didn't find anything."
"It's okay. Love you too. Bye."
"Well?" the stranger asked, stomping his cigarette out on the carpet. "Was it everything you hoped for?"
"Not quite. You're name is...?"
"You can call me Mr. White. I must insist that you and Erik come with me now, Melissa. Before your significant other returns, of course."
"Whatever. Say bye-bye, Mr. White."
The mysterious man shot Melissa a curious look as she waved a short sign of farewell. Without warning, a piercing scream erupted from her throat, hitting the man with enough force to knock him off his feet. The siren continued her song, blowing a large hole through the back of the apartment, sending Mr. White, along with the entire bathroom, sailing into the night sky.
"Shit," Melissa muttered to herself as she surveyed the damage that she'd caused, "sorry Donny."
"That was rather rude," the same pleasing voice as before said from the destroyed bathroom. Melissa gasped as White emerged, completely unscathed, from the wreckage, another lit cigarette inserted into his now scowling mouth. "Is it my turn now?"
# # # # # # # # # #
Here we go, I'm hanging out in Camden, drinking with my girlfriends on a Saturday night.
This guy says "come and meet my girlfriend, she's sitting in the corner looking rather uptight."
So I say hello and I try to be nice, but I see he's feeling itchy.
Trying to play us off each other, "girls, girls please don't fight".
Rachel danced to the loud music that blared from her stereo's speaker system. Wearing nothing but a matching set of silk bra and panties, her body writhed in time with the rhythm, her long pink hair flailing left to right as the singer's voice sped along. The guy on the couch, watching intently, could do nothing but smile.
"I don't think I've ever heard this song before," he said loudly, attempting to be heard over the music. Rachel gave a huge grin before launching herself toward the couch, flopping down beside him with a giggle.
"It's a few years old, by this great all-chick Brit-rock band called Lush," she replied, pulling her hair back into a ponytail, "song's called Ladykiller."
"Interesting title," he said, returning her smile. Rachel couldn't help but stare into his eyes, something about the man she'd only met a few hours ago that compelled her to be with him. Even in the crowded bar, she could almost feel his presence.
"Did you know I used to be a superhero?" she blurted out, not really thinking about what came out of her mouth. "Yeah, I used to date Captain America, if you can believe that. I was his sidekick, even went by one of those tacky little codenames. 'Diamondback'...ugh, I still kinda cringe when I say it."
"I know," he replied, still smiling at her. "In fact, I know all about you, Rachel. I'm somewhat of a super-heroine groupie, sad to say..."
Rachel started to laugh, her eyes still locked in a stare with his. "You're kidding, right?"
"Scout's honor," he said, placing one hand on his heart and the other into the air.
"Well, you know I'm not one anymore," she said, her cheeks beginning to turn red from blushing, "I gave that up a few years ago."
"That's okay," he said as he leaned in to kiss her, "it doesn't matter to me."
# # # # # # # # # #
Mr. White took a slow drag from his cigarette, his eyes sternly focused on the young woman before him. He could feel the night air on the back of his neck, coming in from the hole his opponent had blown in the wall only moments ago. Sighing to himself, he exhaled the smoke and began to walk forward...he so hoped he wouldn't have to break a sweat.
"What do you want?" Melissa asked, taking a few steps back from the advancing intruder.
"Mr. Hammer paid for Gill's apartment, girl, one of the perks of being in his employment. But did you really think he actually trusts any of his associates? He's had this place bugged since the day Blizzard moved in, and the moment your boys left, I was sent to retrieve you."
"You can try," she muttered, immediately launching a roundhouse kick in the man's direction. To her utter surprise, her foot passed through his head with nary a flinch in his demeanor, almost as if he were a ghost.
"You were saying?" he asked sarcastically. Before Melissa could respond, a tremor shook the building violently. Falling to the ground, Melissa quickly raised her head to find Mr. White unmoved. "Did you do that?" he asked, confusion in his voice.
"I thought you did," she replied, echoing the man's confusion. Both turned their heads toward the front door of the apartment as several hard knocks sounded off. A moment of hesitation later, the wood exploded outward, a hulking orange creature crashing his way through the entranceway.
"What the fuck is that?" Melissa asked frantically, pushing herself backward across the floor.
The creature cried out in a guttural bellow of rage, muscles flexing beneath the large armored plates that formed a shell around its body. It lunged forward, the massive claws that doubled as fingers ripping through the plaster walls like they were as much paper.
"I don't know, but I suggest we don't stick around to ask it's social security number," Mr. White stated calmly, placing his hand across Melissa's shoulder. Almost immediately, both individuals fell through the floor, as if it were never there at all.
"Wait, what about Erik?" Melissa broke away from White's grip upon reaching the floor of the apartment below them. Suddenly, the window to the home exploded inward, a half-naked man landing on all fours amidst the shattered glass. Baring his teeth, the animal/man growled fiercely before pouncing toward Melissa.
The bionic muscles in her throat tensed, yet another piercing cry erupting forth toward the feral beast man jumping toward her. The attacker howled in pain from the sonic onslaught, but his momentum still carried him forward, his flailing body colliding hard with the still screaming woman. His claws dug into her shoulders, and as the two hit the ground, his hands moved upward toward her throat. After a few frantic slashes, the assailant successfully halted the young woman's attack.
"I had dibs on her first, freakshow," White stated as he kicked the beast man hard in the teeth. Before he could press his attack, however, a beam rocketed downward from the ceiling, connecting forcefully with the back of his head. The orange monstrosity crashed down onto the apartment's floor from the room above, the comatose Erik Josten in its grasp. Mr. White could feel himself being scooped up by the creature right before he lost consciousness.
# # # # # # # # # #
"What is your name?"
"Dimitri Bukharin."
"Where are from?"
"The Slovensk Province of Russia."
"In what capacity did you serve the KGB?"
"I served two terms as the state's appointed Crimson Dynamo, from 1987 until 1991. Upon the dissolution of my employers, I took a new identity and gained passage to America."
"What happened after your arrival in this country?"
"After a very brief try at work-for-hire, I was defeated by the Hulk and imprisoned in the Vault. I escaped during the terrorist strike on the facility."
Henry Gyrich smiled as he butted his cigarette into the ashtray resting on his desk. "Very good, Mr. Jenkins. I think you're ready to be released."
Abe scowled beneath the helmet of the Airstrike armor system. "About damn time."
# # # # # # # # # #
"Oh shit," Donny muttered as he entered the ruins of his apartment, Boomerang and Blacklash following close behind. The three surveyed the damage done to the walls and the gaping hole in both the bathroom wall and living room floor, quickly assuming the worst for the two people they'd left behind.
"Mimi's gone," Fred stated grimly, "Josten with 'er. Think Hammer got wind of us?"
"Fuck, fuck, FUCK!" were the only words Donny could force out as he slammed his fist against one of the remaining walls.
"Look, whatever happened here, we've got to prioritize," Mark said as he placed a calming hand across Blizzard's shoulder. "Hammer owns the building, which means police won't be a problem. But, what are we gonna say happened when our employer's security forces get here?"
"So what are you saying we do?" Donny asked, pulling the mask away from his face.
"What do you think we're gonna do?" Mark replied sternly. "We get as far away from here as humanly possible."
# # # # # # # # # #
Melissa painfully came back to consciousness, the cuts on her arms and neck burning intensely. Her arms and legs were tied down to what appeared to be an operating table of sorts, a bright light shining down on her from above. Though still incredibly weak, she managed to turn her head to the left, seeing both the mysterious Mr. White and the still coughing and wheezing Eric strapped to identical tables.
"Melissa Joan Schwartz," a high-pitched voice said from behind her, the speaker's form hidden from her view, "how you've grown. To think, you've come so far since the last time we saw each other. I feel almost like a proud parent, I must say."
Melissa strained her neck to see her captor, though she already knew his identity. Slowly, a small man in a white lab-coat made his way around her restrained body, rubbing his fingers against the exposed skin of her arms. She could see the fear in her face reflected back off of his mirrored glasses, the scalpel held in his hands causing her anxiety to rise further.
"Dr. Malus," she managed to choke out, her voice weakened considerably from the beast man's claws. The doctor shot her a wicked smile. Melissa fought back tears, the sight of Karl Malus chilling her to the bone. He was a scientist, a surgeon, contracted to give super villains augmented powers. He especially liked doing so without the benefit of anesthetics.
"When I sent Erik back out into the city, I secretly hoped he'd find you first. I'm getting paid equally for all of you, but..." he hesitated for a moment, running the edge of the scalpel down the middle of her chest, slicing open her shirt, "I'm sure you understand the sentimental value behind acquiring both you and Josten first. After all, if not for me, neither of you would exist."
"Why are you doing this?" she asked, unable to activate the bionic implants in her throat. Malus continued, ignoring her question completely.
"Such a shame that Titania and Letha had to die so tragically, don't you think? I had such high hopes for you Unlimited Class Wrestlers at the time, just as I had hopes for Erik when I transformed him into Goliath all those years ago. You see how he turned out, dear...dying from an overexposure of ionic energy. He was the easiest to find, of course. Hell, I'm still searching for the Sofen woman. But don't you worry, as you discovered earlier, I have my ways of procuring subjects."
"Monsters..."
"Yes, yes, I suppose they are. Mad-Dog and Armadillo aren't the most sociable lackeys in the world, but they do get the job done." Malus paused again, licking his lips as he squeezed the immobile woman's left breast firmly. "Are we ready to begin?"
"Please, no..." Melissa protested in vain, tears forming in the corners of her eyes. The doctor merely shook his head slowly as he raised the scalpel to her throat.
"Let's start with those pesky vocal chords of yours, shall we?"
# # # # # # # # # #
He washed his hands briskly under the cascading bathroom sink, humming along to the music that still blared from the stereo. The compact disc had played completely through, now repeating itself for the third time. He recognized the song as the one that Rachel had danced to earlier.
Oh, you're such a ladykiller, always on a winner, thinking that you're in there.
Taking care not to step in the crimson pools that covered the bedroom floor, he made his way to the spot where his shirt had fell. He pulled it on, thoroughly inspecting it for stains of any kind.
Oh boy, you're such a ladykiller, super sexy mister, call it what you will.
Taking one final look at his handy work, he lit a cigarette and reveled in his art. Her body was exquisite, so tight and taut, like nothing he'd experienced before. If his mind hadn't been made, the past few hours would have cinched it for him. Super powered women were definitely the way to go.
You think you're such a ladykiller, I just bet you're still there, posing in the mirror.
Finally, he turned away and headed for the door, leaving the broken and bloody body of Rachel Leighton tossed across the bed. "Ladykiller...I kinda like the sound of that."
Hey girls, he's such a ladykiller, but we know where he's coming from and we know the score.
# # # # # # # # # #
Next Issue: Okay, so the promised return of Baron Zemo didn't happen this issue...but he'll definitely be showing up next issue! So what happens when a dying, drug-addled guy with the ability to grow several stories in height decides to take his anger out on NYC? Find out in Thunderbolts # 15, 'natch!
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LIGHTNING STRIKES
First off, I want to thank both Brent Lambert and Dino Pollard for giving my first issue such excellent reviews on the Heroes list and the M2K board (respectively). Double kudos to Brent for launching his "Kill Blizzard Horribly" campaign. You crazy kids, I swear.
Next on the agenda, we have a letter here from M2K alumni Steve (Ultimate Avengers) Crosby! Here's what Steve-O had to say about # 13:
Heheh, "Killer B's". I really should start charging for all the wonderful ideas I give out. Terrific issue, Chris. Gyrich is an asshole, the Scourge is on the loose, MACH-1 goes undercover, and once again I'm seeing the insight into the criminal world that Busiek started and Nicieza fucked up on. Good work.
Thankayewverrahmuch, Steve. I appreciate the kind words, and echo the Busiek/Nicieza sentiments. Stick around, 'cause I hope to infuse the book with some of that good ol' head-scratchin' mystery that Busiek did so well in the first year-or-so of the book. Oh, and yes...Crosby is the one responsible for coining the "Killer B's" term. Told you I wouldn't forget the shout out!
Chris Munn
08/22/02
BIBLIOGRAPHY- Karl Malus was last seen (I believe, don't quote me on this) in Captain America # 330. Among his "accomplishments" in the super-villain world are Goliath, Songbird, the Armadillo, Daddy Long Legs, and most of the Unlimited Class Wrestlers. He also performed experiments on Jack Russell, the Werewolf by Night.
- Alas, poor Diamondback...we hardly knew ye.