"Donny, get in the bloody car! We gotta get out of the city, the sooner the better!"
Donald Gill hesitantly jumped into the backseat of the BMW, his two partners in crime already strapped into the front seats. Fred Meyers gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles turned a pale white, until he was sure Donny was situated. Upon hearing the click of the seatbelt come from the backseat, Fred threw the car into drive and sped away from the apartment complex they had been parked in front of.
"Guys, we can't just leave town like this," Donny protested, "I have to find Melissa."
"You can't do much for her if you're dead, can you?" Mark Scarlotti stated from his position in the passenger seat. Attempting to voice his opinions yet again, Donny was silenced in advance by Mark's dismissive hand.
"Like I said boys," Fred said as he careened the car around a turn, "Hammer's gonna have our jangles cut off and fed to pigs. Mark my words, mates."
"We can't do this!" Donny exclaimed, ignoring his comrades' attempts to silence him. "We can't just leave Missy and Erik twisting in the wind like this!"
"Look, Donny," Mark replied angrily, "if Justin Hammer finds out what we did tonight, all three of us are dead men! I've got a little girl to think about, I can't piss my life away over some chick that you're fucking. I wish it hadn't come to this, but we have no choice here!"
"Listen to 'im, mate," Meyers interjected, craning his neck back to get a good look at Donny, "'cause I don't plan on going up shit creek on your behalf."
Nodding his head in frustrated agreement, Donny slowly turned his head to look out the window. "Shit!" he exclaimed, eyes widened at what he saw. "Fred, brakes!"
The two men both jerked their heads to the right, catching a blurred image of metal and glass out of the corner of their eyes. The incoming car collided hard with their passenger side, sending their vehicle into a skid across several lanes of traffic. By the time the car came to a halt, it had flipped over onto its side.
"What...the hell...?" Mark strained out, attempting to gain his bearings. He rolled his head back to check on Donny, who had already started to climb out of the wreckage, and Fred, who was attending to the large gash across his forehead.
"Guys, you gotta see this..." Donny stammered out, his gaze focused on the city scene laid out before him. A few painful moments later, Fred and Mark joined him outside.
The three men, their costumes ripped and torn from the violent crash, stood in shock. Times Square appeared to be in the middle of a warzone, with buildings crumbling onto the street and people running for their lives. Their gaze lifted upward, toward the tops of the devastated buildings, where a storm of glass and steel exploded out from a distant high-rise. Emerging from the skyscraper, a giant fist closed around a support beam, pulling it free from the center of the building. The towering figure lunged into full view, his arm tearing itself loose from the collapsing construct.
"Something tells me," Mark said after a stunned pause, "we just found Erik."
Donald Gill hesitantly jumped into the backseat of the BMW, his two partners in crime already strapped into the front seats. Fred Meyers gripped the steering wheel, his knuckles turned a pale white, until he was sure Donny was situated. Upon hearing the click of the seatbelt come from the backseat, Fred threw the car into drive and sped away from the apartment complex they had been parked in front of.
"Guys, we can't just leave town like this," Donny protested, "I have to find Melissa."
"You can't do much for her if you're dead, can you?" Mark Scarlotti stated from his position in the passenger seat. Attempting to voice his opinions yet again, Donny was silenced in advance by Mark's dismissive hand.
"Like I said boys," Fred said as he careened the car around a turn, "Hammer's gonna have our jangles cut off and fed to pigs. Mark my words, mates."
"We can't do this!" Donny exclaimed, ignoring his comrades' attempts to silence him. "We can't just leave Missy and Erik twisting in the wind like this!"
"Look, Donny," Mark replied angrily, "if Justin Hammer finds out what we did tonight, all three of us are dead men! I've got a little girl to think about, I can't piss my life away over some chick that you're fucking. I wish it hadn't come to this, but we have no choice here!"
"Listen to 'im, mate," Meyers interjected, craning his neck back to get a good look at Donny, "'cause I don't plan on going up shit creek on your behalf."
Nodding his head in frustrated agreement, Donny slowly turned his head to look out the window. "Shit!" he exclaimed, eyes widened at what he saw. "Fred, brakes!"
The two men both jerked their heads to the right, catching a blurred image of metal and glass out of the corner of their eyes. The incoming car collided hard with their passenger side, sending their vehicle into a skid across several lanes of traffic. By the time the car came to a halt, it had flipped over onto its side.
"What...the hell...?" Mark strained out, attempting to gain his bearings. He rolled his head back to check on Donny, who had already started to climb out of the wreckage, and Fred, who was attending to the large gash across his forehead.
"Guys, you gotta see this..." Donny stammered out, his gaze focused on the city scene laid out before him. A few painful moments later, Fred and Mark joined him outside.
The three men, their costumes ripped and torn from the violent crash, stood in shock. Times Square appeared to be in the middle of a warzone, with buildings crumbling onto the street and people running for their lives. Their gaze lifted upward, toward the tops of the devastated buildings, where a storm of glass and steel exploded out from a distant high-rise. Emerging from the skyscraper, a giant fist closed around a support beam, pulling it free from the center of the building. The towering figure lunged into full view, his arm tearing itself loose from the collapsing construct.
"Something tells me," Mark said after a stunned pause, "we just found Erik."
Back to GatefoldIssue #15 by Chris Munn
REMNANTS AND REVENANTS - Part 3 of 3 |
"Well...that was unexpected."
Dr. Karl Malus walked through his demolished laboratory, surveying the damage made by the exiting Erik Josten. Behind him, sheltered from the exposed night sky, were the mad scientist's restrained patients. Mr. Blackened White, the corporate reclamation agent for criminal industrialist Justin Hammer, smirked at the kink in his enemy's plan. Melissa Gold, formerly the super-villain-turned-heroine known as Songbird, attempted not to choke on her own blood.
"I think you might have pissed the boy off, Doctor," White remarked as Malus returned his attention back to the two captives.
"Eh, it was to be expected, my mysterious friend. Erik and Melissa were quite close, and seeing in her such agony surely drove him over the edge."
"Not that your tinkering with his powers hadn't done so already," White interrupted, the smirk still plastered across his face. "The question you should be asking yourself, 'friend', is what kind of deal are you going to offer me to keep your ass from being severely kicked?"
Malus erupted into a bout of maniacal laughter at White's question, a scalpel twirling between his fingers. "You seem familiar to me," he said through mad giggles, "have I worked on you in the past?"
"I really don't think so," he replied, raising his head from the horizontal table, "somehow I don't think you'd be able to give me the abilities I've got."
"Oh, do tell?" Malus asked as he neared closer to his victim. Suddenly, White sat straight up, his arms passing effortlessly through the bonds, as if they never existed.
"Intangibility, fucker," White stated as he smoothed out the wrinkles in his black suit coat, "let's see your bargain basement super villains top that."
Malus scowled, momentarily taken back by his target's revelation. A second later, a simple snap of the fingers was all it took to alert his minions. White turned just in time to catch the form of the leaping Mad-Dog out of the corner of his eye. The feral beast-man passed through the wraith-like gentleman, his face smacking hard on the concrete. "Déjà vu, hairbag?" the well dressed White asked as he stepped hard onto the back of Mad-Dog's neck, slamming the man's face to the ground with enough force to shatter his jaw. As he stood in victory over his opponent, he failed to notice the large shadow looming over him from behind.
# # # # # # # # # #
Erik Josten howled in pain as his body stretched and distended, adjusting to the weight added by each size-changing breath. Concrete buckled and shattered into powder beneath his feet, sending shockwaves throughout the city with each advancing step. The breaths exhaled from his mouth shattered windows, creating a shrapnel effect on those in the street below.
Erik Josten was dying.
Ionic energy erupted from his pores, bathing the city in high-level radiation. He could feel the power within him building up to a boiling point, one that, when reached, would result in a particularly violent release. He could do nothing to stop it.
All he could do was die.
On the street, a full block away from the rampaging giant, three super villains weighed their options. Blizzard tried valiantly to hide his fear, but the quiver in his voice gave him away. Boomerang simply wanted to leave, as he felt no need to fight a battle that didn't involve some sort of monetary compensation. Blacklash, the more level-headed of the three, simply gritted his teeth as he removed the electrical whip from its resting place.
"As much as I hate to say this," Mark stated as he started walking toward the chaos, "we gotta stop him."
"Have you lost your fucking mind?" Fred asked in shock, running up to face his partner. "Look, this guy turned his back on us and ours when he went legit. Are you willing to sacrifice everything to help that traitorous bastard?"
"I agree with Mark," Donny admitted meekly, taking a place beside Blacklash. Fred's eyes flared with anger.
"I swear to God, if I get sent back to jail because of this," Fred said, his boot-jets flaring to life, "I'll hold you two responsible." Boomerang shot into the sky, propelling himself toward the shrieking Goliath at an incredible speed. Remaining on the ground, Blacklash and Blizzard activated their cybernetic weaponry.
"Mark, let Fred and me handle this," Donny said, placing a hand on the man's shoulder, "you have to go find Melissa."
"Just how am I supposed to do that?"
"Erik had to come from somewhere," Donny explained, "so follow the path of his destruction back to its source. C'mon man, you're arguably the least effective against Josten. Do this for me."
"Okay, fine," Mark reluctantly agreed, "good luck, man."
"You too," Donny replied before taking off after Boomerang, leaving Mark to head toward an empty car.
# # # # # # # # # #
Intangibility, though definitely useful most of the time, had one major draw back. When you're out of phase with physical reality, oxygen molecules pass through you as well. Meaning, when intangible, you can't breathe. Normally, that's not a problem, as long as you take a deep breath before phasing out. For Mr. White, however, the fact that a rampaging Armadillo was waiting for him to regain solidity made that small problem into a rather large one.
There was also the blood running down White's back, the result of the orange-plated behemoth's initial attack. Armadillo's blow could have easily scooped his spinal column from his back, if not for the split second step forward White had taken moments before the strike.
So Mr. White had a choice. He could take his chances fighting a monstrosity completely out of his league. Or he could suffocate.
The Armadillo swiped a little bit at the air, his claws passing through White's immaterial chest. Intangibility confused the monster, which obviously had very little conscious intelligence. Dr. Malus stood in the background, ignoring the two combatants in favor of groping the highly injured Melissa Gold. White grimaced at the thought of what he'd done to the girl, as he'd been forced to watch Malus surgically extract her bionic vocal cords...without benefit of anesthesia.
"Heheheheheheheheheheheheeeeeeeeeee," the mad doctor giggled as he sliced tiny cuts into Melissa's chest with his scalpel, "You know, I think you've become a lot prettier over the years my dear. Well, not NOW, but you know what I mean."
White could feel his consciousness slipping away from the lack of air, and in desperation came up with a plan. He stepped forward, running straight through the hulking Armadillo, his momentum carrying him toward the oblivious scientist. He could hear Armadillo turning around, his massive feet lunging him in the same direction. Malus turned and gasped, expecting the running Mr. White to collide with him. Instead, White passed through scientist and table, solidifying at the exact moment he reached open air. He fell, desperately gasping for air, thankful that he hadn't suffocated.
He heard Malus scream as the Armadillo's forward lunge sent him barreling into the mad doctor's equipment, causing a rather large explosion. White didn't have the strength to turn around, and he silently hoped that Melissa was okay.
# # # # # # # # # #
Boomerang zoomed through the air, flying circles around Goliath's head in an earnest attempt to catch his attention. Josten squinted as his height reached a staggering 80 feet, finally taking notice of the insect buzzing around him.
"Josten!" Fred shouted into the man's ear, "you need to calm down, mate! You're killing a lot of people down there, you know!"
"Boomerang..." Goliath muttered, the bass in his voice causing tremors as far away as New Jersey, "I can't stop myself. You have to kill me...before I explode."
"Explode?" Fred asked, suddenly a lot more worried than before.
"Ionic energy...radiation...like a nuclear bomb inside of me."
"Oh...shit," were the only words that Fred Meyers could form. Grasping onto one of the silver boomerangs that hung across his body, he steeled his nerves. "Sorry, mate."
The boomerang flew from Fred's hand, one of his patented screamerangs, and circled the giant's head twice before the sonic onslaught began. Boomerang propelled himself backwards as Josten screamed in agony, his massive hands flying up to cover his ears from the sound. Fred flew downward, avoiding the falling debris and flailing arms of the giant only barely, until he reached the street. He landed beside Donny, pulling back his mask to wipe the sweat from his brow.
"So what do we do?"
Fred scowled. "He wants us to kill him."
"We can't do that, man," Donny stated sternly, "we can't just murder the guy. This isn't his fault."
"Well, if you've got a better idea, mate," Fred replied, pulling his mask back into place, "I'm all ears. But the guy's got a body filled with radioactive energy that's about to burst open at the seems. Hiroshima in the middle of New York City."
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Blizzard muttered, "you know, it's times like this that super-heroes actually serve a purpose. Where the hell are the Avengers? This has gotta be all over the news by now."
"It's almost two in the morning, Donny. Super capes have early bedtimes...except the freaks, like Daredevil. We're on our own, man."
"Fine, okay," Blizzard stated as he walked away, toward the still-growing foot of Goliath. Energy crackled around him, his cold-suit's fuel cells amped to the max. "Get ready with that electrorang, will you?"
Boomerang watched in awe as Blizzard touched his hand to the flesh of Goliath's bare foot, wave after wave of numbingly cold energy surging from his palm and into the man's body. The veins in Josten's body were brought to the surface of his skin, an icy blue color. Clouds of moist air exited his mouth with every breath, as his movements became more and more difficult to make. "I'm freezing his blood, Fred!" Donald shouted. "Throw your electrorang...NOW!"
Fred rocketed into the air, two electrorangs clutched in his hands. As he neared Goliath's head, he let the weapons fly, and as they circled around the man's head, 3,000 volts of electricity poured into the man's body. Josten screamed in pain for the last time as his body rapidly began to lose mass, his consciousness failing along with his body. He was the size of a normal man before he hit the ground.
"That was bloody brilliant, mate!" Fred exclaimed as he landed. "What the hell did we just do to him?"
"I froze his blood, making his entire body a superconductor. Your electrorangs gave just enough energy input to shock him into unconsciousness." Donny stated as he picked Josten up into his arms.
"Bloody fucking brilliant..."
# # # # # # # # # #
"Jesus Christ on a pink pony," Blacklash mumbled to himself as he entered the burning, demolished building that had clearly been the origin point for Goliath's rampage. His whip, still coiled in his hand, hummed quietly as he made his way through the debris. Something very bad had happened there, Mark could feel it in his bones.
"Grrrrrrr..."
Blacklash stopped in his tracks, his gaze targeted at a dark patch of shadows on the other side of a small blaze. Red eyes reflected the flame from the shadows, the hushed growling still emitting from the black. Mark gripped the whip even tighter.
"C'mon outta there, fucker," he said as the electrical weapon uncoiled from his grasp, "I'm ready to get down."
The feral creature leapt from the shadows, a weak scream erupting from what appeared to be a broken jaw. Blacklash smirked as he cracked his whip, wrapping the end of the electrical cord around Mad Dog's throat. A depression of the button on the whip's hilt sent an intense electrical charge, immediately electrocuting the advancing madman. Mad Dog collapsed in a heap, smoke rising from his body.
"Good move," a weak voice said through the smoke, causing Blacklash to ready himself for another attack. Mr. White limped forward, raising his hands to show that he meant no offense.
"Who're you?" Mark asked, still ready to defend himself at a moment's notice.
"I'm a fellow co-worker, Mr. Scarlotti," White replied, still limping forward, "I work for Mr. Hammer."
"Melissa Gold. Where is she?"
White slowly lifted his right arm, his index finger pointing into the center of the blazing inferno. "She's in there. I think she's dead."
Before either man could speak again, a roar tore through the mouth of the conflagration. The Armadillo ripped his way through the burning wreckage, the unconscious Songbird cradled in his massive, plated arms. Grunts came from the monster's mouth, as if he was attempting to communicate in a language he'd long forgotten. White and Blacklash glanced at each other, not sure if the Armadillo was a threat or a newfound ally. They never figured out which.
Startling all, the orange creature's head exploded in a furious display of pyrotechnics. "Freeze!" a voice commanded from behind the two men, prompting both to raise their arms in acknowledgement.
A troop of armed assassins surrounds the two men, all wearing a uniform immediately recognizable. "Hammer's security force, right?" Mark asked, his hands placed nervously behind his head.
"Damn straight," the force leader replied, his gun still aimed at the Armadillo, "we apprehended Boomerang and Blizzard a few minutes ago. You fucks have some seriously explaining to do to Mr. Hammer."
"Wonderful," Mark muttered as the troops led him and White out of the collapsing building.
# # # # # # # # # #
EPILOGUE ONE
Hours later, in a research facility owned and operated by Justin Hammer, Mark and Fred squirmed restlessly in their seats. Hammer sat at a desk in front of them, a scowl formed on his aged face. The two men knew they were in trouble...they just didn't know how badly.
"I fail to understand something, gentlemen," Hammer began, lighting a cigarette during the pause in speaking, "specifically the reasoning behind your breaking into my facility. You said it was to steal any files I may contain on Erik Josten. Fair enough. But why should my employees concern themselves with a self-admitted traitor to the criminal lifestyle?"
"Honor, sir," Blacklash spoke up, causing Boomerang to cradle his face in his hands.
"Honor?" Hammer asked, his eyebrow raising oh-so-slightly.
"It doesn't matter that the man turned his back on our kind. Everybody has the right to make their own choices in life, wouldn't you agree?"
"Not when those choices betray the trust of others, Scarlotti. But, I do see where you're coming from. Honor amongst thieves is a must in this business, even to one ostracized from the brotherhood, eh? My doctors are going to attempt to save Josten's life by purging the ionic energy from his body. I expect this favor to be returned, gentlemen."
Mark and Fred nodded in silent agreement.
"Do not disappoint me again."
Down several levels, deep within the installation's substructure, Donny was waiting nervously. He knew he was supposed to attend the meeting with Mr. Hammer, but he just couldn't do it. He couldn't leave the recovery room while the woman he loved fought for her life. Melissa had been unconscious since the raid on Malus' laboratory, and the surgeons had went to work immediately, attempting to stifle the blood loss from her throat. Though they'd saved her life, the rescue came with a price.
Donny perked up when he saw her eyes flutter open as she finally regained consciousness. She tried to sit up in the bed, but his reassuring hands softly pushed her back down. "You need to rest, baby. You've been through a lot."
Her eyes filled with tears when she realized what had happened.
"The doctors saved your life, Missy. The bad side was that they couldn't save your vocal cords. You won't be able to talk for a while...or eat or drink. But don't worry, they're developing a new bionic throat you!"
Weakly gesturing with her hands, Melissa asked for a pencil and paper, desperate to communicate. Donny nodded, handing both to her, as he'd kept them on the bedside table in hopes that she'd awaken. She scribbled furiously, finally turning the paper back for him to see.
MALUS?
"They didn't recover his body from the wreckage, but he's still presumed dead. Mad Dog's in a holding cell, and Armadillo was killed by Hammer's security force."
Melissa nodded before another strained writing attempt.
CALL HIM
"Call him? Call who?"
She scribbled on the paper again, even more fiercely than before.
CALL ABE
"Oh."
# # # # # # # # # #
EPILOGUE TWO
Henry Gyrich smiled maliciously as he exhaled cigarette smoke, his feet propped up on the oak desk. The fully armored Airstrike, the Commission of Superhuman Activities newest agent, stood impatiently before him, the power cells on his suit adding a constant hum to the silence.
"The file on the desk," Gyrich said as he removed his feet from the desk top, "has information on your first three targets. I expect a quick turn-around to this, Jenkins. I trust you won't let me down?"
"It's as good as done, you son of a bitch," Abe Jenkins replied, opening the folder to view its contents.
"Excellent," Gyrich said through his smile, the dark sunglasses he wore hiding the emotion in his eyes. Airstrike studied the photos of the three targets, men he knew rather intimately.
"Boomerang, Blacklash, and Blizzard?"
"Some history there, no? From your time as the Beetle?"
"No sir," Jenkins responded, "no history at all."
# # # # # # # # # #
EPILOGUE THREE
Dr. Karl Malus sat in the lavish reception area, nervously twiddling his thumbs together. Things had not gone as planned, though he had no way to know how his employer would take the news. He'd been waiting for over two hours, but he knew better than to get upset.
Malus watched as the door to the office finally opened, with two obviously angry men exiting. The men mumbled to themselves, ignoring the small scientist, until they made it to the reception room door. The older man, the dark headed one, turned and stared, with some hint of recognition flaring in his eyes. Before he could act on whatever thought had entered his mind, the second man grabbed his arm, pulling him out of the room.
"He'll see you now, Mr. Malus," the cute, blonde secretary (with the obvious mammary enhancements) said with a perky smile. Karl nodded and returned the smile, quickly standing from his seat and entering the office.
"Hello?" he called out into the dark office, as only one single light provided illumination. He could see a figure in the dim light of the desk light, sitting in the darkness. "Why's it so dark in here?"
"I hear that you botched the operation, Herr Malus. Gold and Josten still live."
"That is correct," Malus stammered, "but they've both been maimed. Josten will not live to see the end of the week."
"Es macht nicht aus. Ich dulde ausfall nicht. Ihre strafe ist tod."
"Excuse me?" Malus asked, unable to see his employer raise the laser pistol into the air. A thin, silent beam of energy shot forth, hitting the scientist in the forehead, killing him instantly.
"I have plans for Josten and Gold," the murderer said as he stood from the desk, his purple mask contrasting the white-hot hatred in his eyes. "Zemo has plans for all of his Masters of Evil."
# # # # # # # # # #
NEXT ISSUE: That's right, baby...Baron Zemo is BACK! Thunderbolts # 16 starts off the story arc, "Mergers and Acquisitions", and features the return of several old friends. Airstrike makes his move against his three targets, and in turn comes across the last person he thought he'd ever meet.
# # # # # # # # # #
BIBLIOGRAPHY- Baron Zemo was last seen in Thunderbolts # 12.
Dr. Karl Malus walked through his demolished laboratory, surveying the damage made by the exiting Erik Josten. Behind him, sheltered from the exposed night sky, were the mad scientist's restrained patients. Mr. Blackened White, the corporate reclamation agent for criminal industrialist Justin Hammer, smirked at the kink in his enemy's plan. Melissa Gold, formerly the super-villain-turned-heroine known as Songbird, attempted not to choke on her own blood.
"I think you might have pissed the boy off, Doctor," White remarked as Malus returned his attention back to the two captives.
"Eh, it was to be expected, my mysterious friend. Erik and Melissa were quite close, and seeing in her such agony surely drove him over the edge."
"Not that your tinkering with his powers hadn't done so already," White interrupted, the smirk still plastered across his face. "The question you should be asking yourself, 'friend', is what kind of deal are you going to offer me to keep your ass from being severely kicked?"
Malus erupted into a bout of maniacal laughter at White's question, a scalpel twirling between his fingers. "You seem familiar to me," he said through mad giggles, "have I worked on you in the past?"
"I really don't think so," he replied, raising his head from the horizontal table, "somehow I don't think you'd be able to give me the abilities I've got."
"Oh, do tell?" Malus asked as he neared closer to his victim. Suddenly, White sat straight up, his arms passing effortlessly through the bonds, as if they never existed.
"Intangibility, fucker," White stated as he smoothed out the wrinkles in his black suit coat, "let's see your bargain basement super villains top that."
Malus scowled, momentarily taken back by his target's revelation. A second later, a simple snap of the fingers was all it took to alert his minions. White turned just in time to catch the form of the leaping Mad-Dog out of the corner of his eye. The feral beast-man passed through the wraith-like gentleman, his face smacking hard on the concrete. "Déjà vu, hairbag?" the well dressed White asked as he stepped hard onto the back of Mad-Dog's neck, slamming the man's face to the ground with enough force to shatter his jaw. As he stood in victory over his opponent, he failed to notice the large shadow looming over him from behind.
# # # # # # # # # #
Erik Josten howled in pain as his body stretched and distended, adjusting to the weight added by each size-changing breath. Concrete buckled and shattered into powder beneath his feet, sending shockwaves throughout the city with each advancing step. The breaths exhaled from his mouth shattered windows, creating a shrapnel effect on those in the street below.
Erik Josten was dying.
Ionic energy erupted from his pores, bathing the city in high-level radiation. He could feel the power within him building up to a boiling point, one that, when reached, would result in a particularly violent release. He could do nothing to stop it.
All he could do was die.
On the street, a full block away from the rampaging giant, three super villains weighed their options. Blizzard tried valiantly to hide his fear, but the quiver in his voice gave him away. Boomerang simply wanted to leave, as he felt no need to fight a battle that didn't involve some sort of monetary compensation. Blacklash, the more level-headed of the three, simply gritted his teeth as he removed the electrical whip from its resting place.
"As much as I hate to say this," Mark stated as he started walking toward the chaos, "we gotta stop him."
"Have you lost your fucking mind?" Fred asked in shock, running up to face his partner. "Look, this guy turned his back on us and ours when he went legit. Are you willing to sacrifice everything to help that traitorous bastard?"
"I agree with Mark," Donny admitted meekly, taking a place beside Blacklash. Fred's eyes flared with anger.
"I swear to God, if I get sent back to jail because of this," Fred said, his boot-jets flaring to life, "I'll hold you two responsible." Boomerang shot into the sky, propelling himself toward the shrieking Goliath at an incredible speed. Remaining on the ground, Blacklash and Blizzard activated their cybernetic weaponry.
"Mark, let Fred and me handle this," Donny said, placing a hand on the man's shoulder, "you have to go find Melissa."
"Just how am I supposed to do that?"
"Erik had to come from somewhere," Donny explained, "so follow the path of his destruction back to its source. C'mon man, you're arguably the least effective against Josten. Do this for me."
"Okay, fine," Mark reluctantly agreed, "good luck, man."
"You too," Donny replied before taking off after Boomerang, leaving Mark to head toward an empty car.
# # # # # # # # # #
Intangibility, though definitely useful most of the time, had one major draw back. When you're out of phase with physical reality, oxygen molecules pass through you as well. Meaning, when intangible, you can't breathe. Normally, that's not a problem, as long as you take a deep breath before phasing out. For Mr. White, however, the fact that a rampaging Armadillo was waiting for him to regain solidity made that small problem into a rather large one.
There was also the blood running down White's back, the result of the orange-plated behemoth's initial attack. Armadillo's blow could have easily scooped his spinal column from his back, if not for the split second step forward White had taken moments before the strike.
So Mr. White had a choice. He could take his chances fighting a monstrosity completely out of his league. Or he could suffocate.
The Armadillo swiped a little bit at the air, his claws passing through White's immaterial chest. Intangibility confused the monster, which obviously had very little conscious intelligence. Dr. Malus stood in the background, ignoring the two combatants in favor of groping the highly injured Melissa Gold. White grimaced at the thought of what he'd done to the girl, as he'd been forced to watch Malus surgically extract her bionic vocal cords...without benefit of anesthesia.
"Heheheheheheheheheheheheeeeeeeeeee," the mad doctor giggled as he sliced tiny cuts into Melissa's chest with his scalpel, "You know, I think you've become a lot prettier over the years my dear. Well, not NOW, but you know what I mean."
White could feel his consciousness slipping away from the lack of air, and in desperation came up with a plan. He stepped forward, running straight through the hulking Armadillo, his momentum carrying him toward the oblivious scientist. He could hear Armadillo turning around, his massive feet lunging him in the same direction. Malus turned and gasped, expecting the running Mr. White to collide with him. Instead, White passed through scientist and table, solidifying at the exact moment he reached open air. He fell, desperately gasping for air, thankful that he hadn't suffocated.
He heard Malus scream as the Armadillo's forward lunge sent him barreling into the mad doctor's equipment, causing a rather large explosion. White didn't have the strength to turn around, and he silently hoped that Melissa was okay.
# # # # # # # # # #
Boomerang zoomed through the air, flying circles around Goliath's head in an earnest attempt to catch his attention. Josten squinted as his height reached a staggering 80 feet, finally taking notice of the insect buzzing around him.
"Josten!" Fred shouted into the man's ear, "you need to calm down, mate! You're killing a lot of people down there, you know!"
"Boomerang..." Goliath muttered, the bass in his voice causing tremors as far away as New Jersey, "I can't stop myself. You have to kill me...before I explode."
"Explode?" Fred asked, suddenly a lot more worried than before.
"Ionic energy...radiation...like a nuclear bomb inside of me."
"Oh...shit," were the only words that Fred Meyers could form. Grasping onto one of the silver boomerangs that hung across his body, he steeled his nerves. "Sorry, mate."
The boomerang flew from Fred's hand, one of his patented screamerangs, and circled the giant's head twice before the sonic onslaught began. Boomerang propelled himself backwards as Josten screamed in agony, his massive hands flying up to cover his ears from the sound. Fred flew downward, avoiding the falling debris and flailing arms of the giant only barely, until he reached the street. He landed beside Donny, pulling back his mask to wipe the sweat from his brow.
"So what do we do?"
Fred scowled. "He wants us to kill him."
"We can't do that, man," Donny stated sternly, "we can't just murder the guy. This isn't his fault."
"Well, if you've got a better idea, mate," Fred replied, pulling his mask back into place, "I'm all ears. But the guy's got a body filled with radioactive energy that's about to burst open at the seems. Hiroshima in the middle of New York City."
"Fuck, fuck, fuck," Blizzard muttered, "you know, it's times like this that super-heroes actually serve a purpose. Where the hell are the Avengers? This has gotta be all over the news by now."
"It's almost two in the morning, Donny. Super capes have early bedtimes...except the freaks, like Daredevil. We're on our own, man."
"Fine, okay," Blizzard stated as he walked away, toward the still-growing foot of Goliath. Energy crackled around him, his cold-suit's fuel cells amped to the max. "Get ready with that electrorang, will you?"
Boomerang watched in awe as Blizzard touched his hand to the flesh of Goliath's bare foot, wave after wave of numbingly cold energy surging from his palm and into the man's body. The veins in Josten's body were brought to the surface of his skin, an icy blue color. Clouds of moist air exited his mouth with every breath, as his movements became more and more difficult to make. "I'm freezing his blood, Fred!" Donald shouted. "Throw your electrorang...NOW!"
Fred rocketed into the air, two electrorangs clutched in his hands. As he neared Goliath's head, he let the weapons fly, and as they circled around the man's head, 3,000 volts of electricity poured into the man's body. Josten screamed in pain for the last time as his body rapidly began to lose mass, his consciousness failing along with his body. He was the size of a normal man before he hit the ground.
"That was bloody brilliant, mate!" Fred exclaimed as he landed. "What the hell did we just do to him?"
"I froze his blood, making his entire body a superconductor. Your electrorangs gave just enough energy input to shock him into unconsciousness." Donny stated as he picked Josten up into his arms.
"Bloody fucking brilliant..."
# # # # # # # # # #
"Jesus Christ on a pink pony," Blacklash mumbled to himself as he entered the burning, demolished building that had clearly been the origin point for Goliath's rampage. His whip, still coiled in his hand, hummed quietly as he made his way through the debris. Something very bad had happened there, Mark could feel it in his bones.
"Grrrrrrr..."
Blacklash stopped in his tracks, his gaze targeted at a dark patch of shadows on the other side of a small blaze. Red eyes reflected the flame from the shadows, the hushed growling still emitting from the black. Mark gripped the whip even tighter.
"C'mon outta there, fucker," he said as the electrical weapon uncoiled from his grasp, "I'm ready to get down."
The feral creature leapt from the shadows, a weak scream erupting from what appeared to be a broken jaw. Blacklash smirked as he cracked his whip, wrapping the end of the electrical cord around Mad Dog's throat. A depression of the button on the whip's hilt sent an intense electrical charge, immediately electrocuting the advancing madman. Mad Dog collapsed in a heap, smoke rising from his body.
"Good move," a weak voice said through the smoke, causing Blacklash to ready himself for another attack. Mr. White limped forward, raising his hands to show that he meant no offense.
"Who're you?" Mark asked, still ready to defend himself at a moment's notice.
"I'm a fellow co-worker, Mr. Scarlotti," White replied, still limping forward, "I work for Mr. Hammer."
"Melissa Gold. Where is she?"
White slowly lifted his right arm, his index finger pointing into the center of the blazing inferno. "She's in there. I think she's dead."
Before either man could speak again, a roar tore through the mouth of the conflagration. The Armadillo ripped his way through the burning wreckage, the unconscious Songbird cradled in his massive, plated arms. Grunts came from the monster's mouth, as if he was attempting to communicate in a language he'd long forgotten. White and Blacklash glanced at each other, not sure if the Armadillo was a threat or a newfound ally. They never figured out which.
Startling all, the orange creature's head exploded in a furious display of pyrotechnics. "Freeze!" a voice commanded from behind the two men, prompting both to raise their arms in acknowledgement.
A troop of armed assassins surrounds the two men, all wearing a uniform immediately recognizable. "Hammer's security force, right?" Mark asked, his hands placed nervously behind his head.
"Damn straight," the force leader replied, his gun still aimed at the Armadillo, "we apprehended Boomerang and Blizzard a few minutes ago. You fucks have some seriously explaining to do to Mr. Hammer."
"Wonderful," Mark muttered as the troops led him and White out of the collapsing building.
# # # # # # # # # #
EPILOGUE ONE
Hours later, in a research facility owned and operated by Justin Hammer, Mark and Fred squirmed restlessly in their seats. Hammer sat at a desk in front of them, a scowl formed on his aged face. The two men knew they were in trouble...they just didn't know how badly.
"I fail to understand something, gentlemen," Hammer began, lighting a cigarette during the pause in speaking, "specifically the reasoning behind your breaking into my facility. You said it was to steal any files I may contain on Erik Josten. Fair enough. But why should my employees concern themselves with a self-admitted traitor to the criminal lifestyle?"
"Honor, sir," Blacklash spoke up, causing Boomerang to cradle his face in his hands.
"Honor?" Hammer asked, his eyebrow raising oh-so-slightly.
"It doesn't matter that the man turned his back on our kind. Everybody has the right to make their own choices in life, wouldn't you agree?"
"Not when those choices betray the trust of others, Scarlotti. But, I do see where you're coming from. Honor amongst thieves is a must in this business, even to one ostracized from the brotherhood, eh? My doctors are going to attempt to save Josten's life by purging the ionic energy from his body. I expect this favor to be returned, gentlemen."
Mark and Fred nodded in silent agreement.
"Do not disappoint me again."
Down several levels, deep within the installation's substructure, Donny was waiting nervously. He knew he was supposed to attend the meeting with Mr. Hammer, but he just couldn't do it. He couldn't leave the recovery room while the woman he loved fought for her life. Melissa had been unconscious since the raid on Malus' laboratory, and the surgeons had went to work immediately, attempting to stifle the blood loss from her throat. Though they'd saved her life, the rescue came with a price.
Donny perked up when he saw her eyes flutter open as she finally regained consciousness. She tried to sit up in the bed, but his reassuring hands softly pushed her back down. "You need to rest, baby. You've been through a lot."
Her eyes filled with tears when she realized what had happened.
"The doctors saved your life, Missy. The bad side was that they couldn't save your vocal cords. You won't be able to talk for a while...or eat or drink. But don't worry, they're developing a new bionic throat you!"
Weakly gesturing with her hands, Melissa asked for a pencil and paper, desperate to communicate. Donny nodded, handing both to her, as he'd kept them on the bedside table in hopes that she'd awaken. She scribbled furiously, finally turning the paper back for him to see.
MALUS?
"They didn't recover his body from the wreckage, but he's still presumed dead. Mad Dog's in a holding cell, and Armadillo was killed by Hammer's security force."
Melissa nodded before another strained writing attempt.
CALL HIM
"Call him? Call who?"
She scribbled on the paper again, even more fiercely than before.
CALL ABE
"Oh."
# # # # # # # # # #
EPILOGUE TWO
Henry Gyrich smiled maliciously as he exhaled cigarette smoke, his feet propped up on the oak desk. The fully armored Airstrike, the Commission of Superhuman Activities newest agent, stood impatiently before him, the power cells on his suit adding a constant hum to the silence.
"The file on the desk," Gyrich said as he removed his feet from the desk top, "has information on your first three targets. I expect a quick turn-around to this, Jenkins. I trust you won't let me down?"
"It's as good as done, you son of a bitch," Abe Jenkins replied, opening the folder to view its contents.
"Excellent," Gyrich said through his smile, the dark sunglasses he wore hiding the emotion in his eyes. Airstrike studied the photos of the three targets, men he knew rather intimately.
"Boomerang, Blacklash, and Blizzard?"
"Some history there, no? From your time as the Beetle?"
"No sir," Jenkins responded, "no history at all."
# # # # # # # # # #
EPILOGUE THREE
Dr. Karl Malus sat in the lavish reception area, nervously twiddling his thumbs together. Things had not gone as planned, though he had no way to know how his employer would take the news. He'd been waiting for over two hours, but he knew better than to get upset.
Malus watched as the door to the office finally opened, with two obviously angry men exiting. The men mumbled to themselves, ignoring the small scientist, until they made it to the reception room door. The older man, the dark headed one, turned and stared, with some hint of recognition flaring in his eyes. Before he could act on whatever thought had entered his mind, the second man grabbed his arm, pulling him out of the room.
"He'll see you now, Mr. Malus," the cute, blonde secretary (with the obvious mammary enhancements) said with a perky smile. Karl nodded and returned the smile, quickly standing from his seat and entering the office.
"Hello?" he called out into the dark office, as only one single light provided illumination. He could see a figure in the dim light of the desk light, sitting in the darkness. "Why's it so dark in here?"
"I hear that you botched the operation, Herr Malus. Gold and Josten still live."
"That is correct," Malus stammered, "but they've both been maimed. Josten will not live to see the end of the week."
"Es macht nicht aus. Ich dulde ausfall nicht. Ihre strafe ist tod."
"Excuse me?" Malus asked, unable to see his employer raise the laser pistol into the air. A thin, silent beam of energy shot forth, hitting the scientist in the forehead, killing him instantly.
"I have plans for Josten and Gold," the murderer said as he stood from the desk, his purple mask contrasting the white-hot hatred in his eyes. "Zemo has plans for all of his Masters of Evil."
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NEXT ISSUE: That's right, baby...Baron Zemo is BACK! Thunderbolts # 16 starts off the story arc, "Mergers and Acquisitions", and features the return of several old friends. Airstrike makes his move against his three targets, and in turn comes across the last person he thought he'd ever meet.
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BIBLIOGRAPHY- Baron Zemo was last seen in Thunderbolts # 12.