He walked through the empty hallway, the overhead lights flickering on and off as a result of a massive power surge a few floors below. The floor quaked from the battle happening beneath him, some of Hammer's employees having a scuffle. It mattered not to the Scourge. He only had one name on his list.
The lights finally gave up their fight to stay illuminated, plunging the hallway into darkness. There were no windows in the corridor; no sources of light whatsoever. The Scourge moved onward to his destination, unwilling to let anything slow his pace.
Suddenly, several floating red lights rounded the far corner, accompanied by the shouts of men. Four guards, wearing night vision equipment, raised their shotguns upon catching sight of the ghostly killer advancing toward them.
"What the fuck is that?" one of the guards asked in frightened confusion, startled by the white skull painted over the Scourge's face.
"Doesn't matter," another replied, "take his ass down!"
The guards all pulled the triggers on their weapons simultaneously, gunfire exploding from the barrels. Smoke covered the area in front of them as they continued to fire, sending blazing death toward the figure that had only moments ago been standing before them. No one could escape the gunshots in that small an area.
"Cease fire!" the guard leader commanded. The three men complied, and found themselves staring at a hallway filled with impenetrable smoke.
The men started to laugh, confident that nothing could have survived their salvo. "Scratch one freak," the leader replied as he lifted a cigarette to his mouth.
"Um, or not...?" another stated nervously as the smoke began to clear, revealing a still-standing Scourge. The killer brushed dust off of his black suit, his eyes narrowed into a furious stare at his attackers.
"Shit!" the men yelled almost in unison, raising their weapons to again lay down a barrage of gunfire. The Scourge's skull twisted into a smile as his arm raised in a motion so fast it appeared almost blurred. He pulled back on the trigger of his pistol slowly, taking his time with his first three shots. Before the guard leader even had his weapon in position, he realized that his three men were dead.
"Who...who the fuck are you?" he stammered out, too afraid to fire his weapon. The Scourge said nothing as he again pulled the trigger, sending a single armor-piercing round into the man's forehead.
"Justice is served."
The lights finally gave up their fight to stay illuminated, plunging the hallway into darkness. There were no windows in the corridor; no sources of light whatsoever. The Scourge moved onward to his destination, unwilling to let anything slow his pace.
Suddenly, several floating red lights rounded the far corner, accompanied by the shouts of men. Four guards, wearing night vision equipment, raised their shotguns upon catching sight of the ghostly killer advancing toward them.
"What the fuck is that?" one of the guards asked in frightened confusion, startled by the white skull painted over the Scourge's face.
"Doesn't matter," another replied, "take his ass down!"
The guards all pulled the triggers on their weapons simultaneously, gunfire exploding from the barrels. Smoke covered the area in front of them as they continued to fire, sending blazing death toward the figure that had only moments ago been standing before them. No one could escape the gunshots in that small an area.
"Cease fire!" the guard leader commanded. The three men complied, and found themselves staring at a hallway filled with impenetrable smoke.
The men started to laugh, confident that nothing could have survived their salvo. "Scratch one freak," the leader replied as he lifted a cigarette to his mouth.
"Um, or not...?" another stated nervously as the smoke began to clear, revealing a still-standing Scourge. The killer brushed dust off of his black suit, his eyes narrowed into a furious stare at his attackers.
"Shit!" the men yelled almost in unison, raising their weapons to again lay down a barrage of gunfire. The Scourge's skull twisted into a smile as his arm raised in a motion so fast it appeared almost blurred. He pulled back on the trigger of his pistol slowly, taking his time with his first three shots. Before the guard leader even had his weapon in position, he realized that his three men were dead.
"Who...who the fuck are you?" he stammered out, too afraid to fire his weapon. The Scourge said nothing as he again pulled the trigger, sending a single armor-piercing round into the man's forehead.
"Justice is served."
Back to GatefoldIssue #17 by Chris Munn
MERGERS AND ACQUISITIONS - Part 2 of 3 |
Airstrike ripped his way through each floor of Justin Hammer's facility, his boot-jets propelling him toward the sky.
Toward freedom and the open air.
He had to get away, to escape the confusion that his life had been immersed in only moments before. He'd blown what was to supposed to have been a simple reconnaissance mission, he'd let his anger at seeing his true love hospitalized by a gang of criminals get the better of him. Now the one person that shouldn't exist was pursuing him, hunting him down.
Finally, he broke through the ceiling of the complex's top floor, the rush of the open mid-evening air creating a slight vacuum as a result of his exiting speed. He had to find somewhere to hide, somewhere to collect his thoughts. Unfortunately, he wasn't going to get the chance.
"Get back here, you fucking coward!" a buzzing, synthetic voice commanded in the heights below him. Abe's head turned downward, despite his desire to simply ignore the voice. In the moment of pause, he felt the bullets from his attacker's wrist gun strike his chest, knocking him off balance.
Airstrike went into a free-fall, stunned to the point where he was unable to bring his computer systems back online. His attacker dove after him, ready to make the killing blow, ready to send Abe Jenkins to his maker.
"Not like this," Airstrike muttered to himself, his senses finally reclaimed, "I won't die like this!" His jets flared, sending him screaming into the sky once again, barely avoiding the diving assailant. He climbed in altitude, stopping several hundred feet above his previous position. He hovered in the air and waited for his opponent to come to him.
The similarly armored man flew to the same height and stopped, hovering a few feet away from Abe. "Who are you?" Airstrike asked, the voice synthesizer in his helmet disguising his voice in accented Russian.
"I'm MACH-1," the other man replied, "and I don't care who you are. You tried to kill the woman I love."
Airstrike's eyes narrowed beneath his helmet. This couldn't be happening...he was MACH-1, not this imposter that had seemingly usurped his life.
"Got anything to say about that?" MACH-1 asked.
"Not really," Airstrike replied, following the answer with a repulsor blast to the other man's chest, "just that I'm gonna kill your ass."
# # # # # # # # # #
"Get away, I can take care of myself."
In the hollowed out section of hallway that used to be the recovery area of Justin Hammer's medical facility, the previously injured Donnie Gill attempted to catch his breath. Melissa Gold hovered over him, expressing nothing but concern toward her boyfriend, despite Donnie's wishes to be left alone. Being attended to in the corner of a room that was now missing an inner wall, Fred Meyers winced in a pain as a nurse bandaged his midsection.
"I said get the fuck away, Missy! Jesus Christ!" Donnie commanded, swiping at his lover with a frustrated hand. Melissa could give no answer, as her vocal chords had been forcibly extracted a week prior. She simply turned away, a look of muted pain in her eyes.
Seeing the exchange between the two, Fred stood painfully and walked toward Melissa, cutting off her attempt at leaving the damaged area of the hallway. "Trouble in paradise, babe?" he asked with a smirk, which was unintentionally followed with a wince, the pain in his ribs troubling him more than he wanted to let on.
Melissa shot him a look, one in which Fred was unable to misunderstand the meaning. One look at her face, however, and he could tell that she was close to exhaustion, the attack by Airstrike being too much for her already injured body to take. With a slight bow, he moved aside, allowing her to pass by unimpaired. With a nod, Melissa walked by, making her way back to what was left of her hospital room.
Meyers turned his attention toward Donnie, who was still moping by himself. "An ass kickin' is hard to let go of, eh mate?" he asked, taking a seat beside his partner.
"I got rescued by Missy's ex-fucking-boyfriend, man," Gill replied, "as if the aforementioned ass kicking wasn't enough of a blow to my pride."
"Look, this place is turning into the emergency room from Hell," Fred said seriously, "so I'm gonna go get my bag, suit up in the war wear, and give ol' Abe a hand up in the friendly skies. You cool?"
"I'm cool," Donnie replied as he pulled his mask off of his face, letting the hood fall onto his back, "go get some."
Fred answered only with a grin before standing. "Go check on Mimi in a minute. I think she might not be feeling so hot."
"She ain't gonna be the only one, Boomie ol' buddy," a voice stated from behind, prompting both Fred and Donnie to quickly turn around. They didn't particularly like what they saw.
# # # # # # # # # #
"Mr. Hammer, there are some activities going on in the facility that I think should be aware of."
The aged face of Justin Hammer formed into a scowl, one pointed at the blonde receptionist who had only moments before barged into his office. What was her name...Holly? Heather?
"My name's Harley," she answered his unasked question, "I just...I know you're a busy man, you can never remember my name."
"Speak, Harley," Hammer replied as he returned to the cigar cradled between his fingers, "what should I 'be aware' of?"
"An unidentified aircraft has landed right outside the premises. Also, there are reports of two separate intruders in the facility, Sir. The first one attacked several of your super-operatives in the medical wing, and is currently engaging in an aerial battle with them."
"The second?"
"Is right here..." a deep, menacing voice said from the shadowed corner of the large office. The Scourge stepped slowly into the light, his gun pointed directly at the elderly industrialist.
"Thank you, Ms. Harley," Hammer said with an exhale of cigar smoke, "that will be all. Please leave the room, before our visitor with the gun decides to shoot you."
Harley wasted no time in completing her employer's request, immediately walking out of the room with a brisk pace. Hammer swiveled his chair around, so as to be facing the carefully advancing intruder from behind his large oak desk. "Now, did we need something, young man?"
"You're on my list, Hammer," the killer stated coldly, "so all I need is the satisfaction of seeing you bleed to death on the Persian carpet here."
"Seems as if we're all wearing different masks now, doesn't it?" Hammer asked rhetorically, completely ignoring the Scourge's prior statement. "Where it gets interesting, however, is when I say that I know who's under your mask...while you have no idea who's under mine."
"I know exactly who's under your 'mask', Hammer. In the eyes of the world, you're a billion-dollar industrialist, but I know the truth. You're a criminal, a villain of the worst kind."
"And what kind is that?"
"The kind that's afraid to get his hands dirty."
"So you're here to, what, kill me?" Hammer asked with a slight laugh. The Scourge's eyes narrowed beneath the skull paint, his finger tapping the trigger of his gun. Hammer's laugh quickly silenced, replaced by a look of pure malice. The Scourge, now standing directly in front of his target's desk, pressed the nozzle of his gun against Hammer's forehead.
"Ready for the bang?"
Hammer said nothing, instead choosing to reply with a snap of his fingers. Before the Scourge could react, he felt a forceful slap against the back of his neck. The gun still pressed to Hammer's head, the serial murderer flicked his eyes to the right, only to find an extremely large man in a type of blue armor standing next to him. The new arrival looked down menacingly at the smaller Scourge, the jagged scar lines making his face appear akin to a jigsaw puzzle.
"That foreign object you now feel on the back of your neck," Hammer stated as he pushed his chair backward, away from the gun, "is called a slave disc. Scourge, this is the Controller."
The Scourge's eyes moved back toward Hammer, the orbs filled with hatred. "Put the gun down," the Controller's gravelly voice commanded, to which the enslaved killer had no choice but to comply.
"For such a large man," Hammer said as he lit up another cigar, "the Controller sure is quiet, eh?"
# # # # # # # # # #
He wanted to die. That's how great the pain was, the pain of having the ionic poison filtered out of his body. Erik Josten had been withstanding the pain for half an hour, the probes inserted under his skin pulsating with bio-chemical treatment solutions causing his flesh to blister. The doctors watched from behind their radioactive shielding, knowing that exposure to the pure ionic energy flying around the room would probably be enough to kill a normal person.
"That looks incredibly painful..." a voice proclaimed, causing Erik's eyes to strain open. There was no one in the room, the doctors visible only through the closed circuit television next to the door. Was he going insane already?
"I know what you're thinking," the voice said again, apparently being emitted from thin air. "You're thinking about how badly you wish you could just go ahead and die. About how you wanting nothing more than the pain to stop."
Erick squinted his eyes, which were blurred from the sweat pouring off his forehead. "Who...who's there?"
"Doesn't matter, Mr. Josten. Think of me as...a friendly ghost. How's that?"
The room was empty, Erick decided. Even through the pain, he knew he couldn't be hallucinating. "G-ghost?"
"You need to conquer the pain, Mr. Josten. Your friends upstairs are about to be punished for your mistakes...the Avengers are here to apprehend you."
"The...the Avengers?"
"For your little rampage in New York last week. They want to lock you up for the rest of your life. Your friends are going to try and stop them...but they will fail."
"What...what can I do?"
"You can fight the pain, Mr. Josten...and grow."
# # # # # # # # # #
Airstrike hovered in place, his doppelganger in the same position a few feet away. Abe was sweating profusely underneath his armor, mainly due to the three individuals that had managed to stop his fight with MACH-1 with their mere presence. He swallowed down the lump in his throat, accepting the fact that he was totally screwed.
The Avengers had arrived.
Iron Man, Justice, and Firestar stood in mid-air, the armored one's arms crossed in an authoritative fashion. The two younger heroes flanked Iron Man on either side, floating just behind him. Abe took a glance at his opponent, and decided that MACH-1 was probably thinking the same thing he was.
"Any particular reason you two felt the need to make war in restricted airspace?" Iron Man asked, his arms still crossed. He had no fear of the two similarly armored men, but really, why would he? He was Iron Man.
"Fuck this!" Abe stated, his voice still coming through his helmet speakers in accented Russian. His bootjets flared to life, sending him first higher into the air, but then with a small tumble he turned his direction downward. MACH-1, taking advantage of Airstrike's impetuousness, shot off into the sky as well, going in the opposite direction of the other.
"You two after him!" Iron Man ordered, pointing Firestar and Justice down toward the rapidly descending Airstrike. The two youngest Avengers took off in pursuit, leaving Iron Man to blast into the sky. "The Beetle is all mine."
# # # # # # # # # #
"It's called a concussion arrow," the archer known to the world as Hawkeye stated confidently, the string of his bow pulled back to a firing position, "so I'd think real hard before making any sudden moves."
Blizzard and Boomerang remained still, both realizing that they had been out-flanked by three of the mighty Avengers. Hawkeye stood in the front, the pressure of his taut bowstring not even causing his muscles to strain. Captain America, easily the most intimidating of the heroes, stood a few feet to Hawkeye's left, his shield at the ready. Finally, fluttering around in the air to Hawkeye's right, the winsome Wasp made her diminutive presence known.
"We're looking for Erik Josten," Captain America stated matter-of-factly, "we received a tip that he was here."
"Fuck off, Captain Asshole," Fred smarted off, "leave us alone. You Avengers are nothing more than a bunch of bloody fascists!"
"Yeah, just keep that mouth going..." Hawkeye threatened, turning his bow in Boomerang's direction.
"Just tell us where he's at, so we can get out of here," the Wasp stated as she buzzed around Blizzard's head, "I really have more important things to do at the moment."
Donnie swiped his hand in an attempt to keep the Wasp at a distance, but neither he nor Fred had any idea on how to get out of their situation. Suddenly, a hand shot out of the solid wall behind Blizzard, causing everyone to jump in surprise. The hand, intangible when it exited the wall, solidified enough for it to grab the Wasp in an enclosed fist. A well-dressed man in a sport coat moved through the wall like it was so much a hologram, and his momentum carried him downward toward the floor. The man's arm sunk into the floor, stopping as it reached his shoulder. A second later, the man's arm came back into view, but the Wasp was nowhere to be seen.
"What have you done with the Wasp?" Captain America asked, charging toward the newcomer. Mr. Blackened White let fly a wicked smirk as he stepped backward, his intangible form allowing him to float to a distance away from the Avenger leader.
Hawkeye took aim with his bow, determined to take out the unknown villain with his concussion arrow. Unexpectedly, a steel cord shot forth from the shadows, striking the hero on the wrist. A small electric shock emitted from the whip as it hit, causing Hawkeye's arm to spasm wildly. The arrow shot into the air, hitting a section of the ceiling on the other side of the room, far away from the wraith-like Mr. White.
"Can't have you pulling any sneaky shit, bowman," Blacklash stated as he stepped from the shadows, his whip ready to strike again. "Fred, Donnie, get the fuck out of here!"
Blizzard jumped up, pulling his mask back over his face, and let fly a blast of ice, which struck the still-stunned Hawkeye with enough force to knock him back several feet. Boomerang, however, wasn't quite as lucky. Still in his civilian attire, Fred broke into a run across the open floor, but instead found himself smacked in the face by Captain America's shield.
"Where is Josten?" Cap demanded to know. "And what have you done with the Wasp?"
"The Wasp is fine, she just won't be joining the battle for a while," Mr. White said from his position above, "I just deposited her into the ventilation ducts between this floor and the one below. It's quite a little maze through there, so she should have a bit of trouble finding her way out."
At that moment, a sound of screeching metal and jet rockets prompted both Cap and White to turn their gaze upwards. Like a comet screaming to earth, Airstrike rocketed into the building through the hole he'd made upon his exit. His metal frame, apparently spiraling out of control, tore through Mr. White's intangible form, disrupting it with a surge of electricity. White screamed as his body regained its solidity, causing him to fall to the ground quite painfully.
Airstrike, finally regaining control of his guidance systems, leveled himself out, arcing across the concrete floor in an angle a complete 90 degrees from his previous descent. His speed was too accelerated, as he quickly discovered, and instead of hitting the ground he found himself face-to-face with a plaster wall. Abe crashed through wall after wall, his body soon lost amidst the destruction.
"Looks like these guys are doing our for us," Hawkeye quipped, his balance regained after Blizzard's attack. Another arrow was pulled from his quiver, which he launched immediately at the retreating Blacklash. A steel-fiber net exploded from the tip of the arrow, ensnaring Mark spectacularly.
"This is so not good," Donnie remarked to himself, quickly realizing that he was the only one left standing.
# # # # # # # # # #
"The Avengers are here..." Justin Hammer muttered to himself, "they've managed to find me, even here."
"Hammer," The Controller started, interrupting the older man's thoughts, "what shall we do with our intruder here?"
The industrialist turned his attention back toward the Scourge, who was still immobile from the Controller's slave disc attached to the base of his neck. "That's a good question. What should we do you, friend? I don't think anybody would miss you if we had you killed...after all, you don't even know who you really are."
"I want to kill him," The Controller grunted. Hammer nodded at his employee, but dismissed his statement.
"Should I let the Controller have you, my deathly friend? We are friends, you realize that, of course? Our history goes back for years, though one would never realize it now."
"Enough talk!" the Controller bellowed, raising his massive fists above the Scourge's head. "Kill NOW!"
Without warning, the Scourge's head swiveled in the Controller's direction, his gun arm raising in the same direction. He shoved the gun forward, jamming it directly in the large criminal's mouth. He only had to pull the trigger once.
Hammer took a few steps backward, not expecting what had just happened. The Scourge reached around to the back of his neck, and with a grunt removed the slave disc that had been attached.
"Now," the Scourge said, his eyes narrowing at the millionaire, "you were saying?"
# # # # # # # # # #
"Blizzard, duck and cover!"
MACH-1 blazed into the area from the hole in the ceiling, his wrist guns laying down a cover fire in hopes that his former partner would be able to make it to safety. He flew through the room in a circle pattern, forcing Hawkeye and Captain America to take cover in one of the adjacent rooms.
Before he could take cover himself, however, MACH-1 found himself struck in the back by three different forms of energy. As he spiraled to the ground, he saw Iron Man, Firestar, and Justice make their way through the exposed ceiling. He hit the ground hard, denting his armor as he made contact.
"Aiding and abetting a known criminal," Hawkeye said as he and Cap reentered the room, "sure looks like you guys learned a lot from me, huh Abe?"
"Leopards rarely change their spots, Hawk," the Wasp stated as she, too, flew into the room, "and I found another rat in the woodpile on my way back." Following behind was Melissa, looking the worse for wear. She walked to the center of the room, where the rest of her group had gathered, and waited as the Avengers circled around them.
"We're gonna ask one last time," Captain America said authoritatively, "where is Goliath?"
Suddenly, the room was bathed in an intense flash of light, forcing everybody to cover their eyes. "Sorry to disappoint, Avengers," a female voice said through the light, "but this is far as this goes."
Melissa rubbed her eyes, her vision slowly coming back into focus. A group of five people stood before them, their identities recognizable by all, whether by personal experience or through reputation. Splice, a former Hollywood assassin, his wrist blades clinking together...the Plant Man, whose arms squirmed from the ivy encircling them...Volcana, her skin blistering with the effects of her molten powers...Gladiator, the buzzsaws on his arms spinning furiously...
"Oh great," Hawkeye commented, "why'd it have to be her?"
...and Moonstone, her arms folded across her chest, a smirk plastered on her face. "If you want Erik, you're going to have to go through us."
"What the hell is going on?" MACH-1 whispered to his allies.
"Don't worry, Abe," Moonstone replied, "the Thunderbolts are here to rescue you..."
# # # # # # # # # #
Next Issue: The new Thunderbolts make their debut, but with the Scourge running around in the compound, will all of them make it out alive? Find out in the conclusion to "Mergers and Acquisitions"!
# # # # # # # # # #
LIGHTNING STRIKES
This month, we have yet another letter from my esteemed colleague, Russ Anderson!
Finally read the new issue of T-bolts, and nothing to report besides the fact that it's still groovy as all hell. I like that I still don't have much idea what the hell's going on in this book, but that it doesn't slow down long enough for that to become an issue. The fight scenes are well choreographed, and the characterizations are still solid.
Thank ya, thank ya, Russah Russ! I kind of struggle writing action scenes, but I think I'm doing a credible job on 'em in Tbolts. As for not know what the hell's going on, just wait...it'll all start making sense real soon.
I'm wondering why the CSA seemed to remember letting Mach-1 free during Mike Exner's run, but, judging by his reminiscences, Abe himself doesn't seem to remember this. What's up with that?
Yes, MACH-1 was indeed released from the Vault by Emil Warton in one of the early issues of Thunderbolts. Trust me, the whole Airstrike/MACH-1 story will start to fall into place with # 19-21, and hopefully there will be quite a few twists and turns left to go.
Oh, Avengers Assemble, huh? With the Scourge and a new Mach-1 loose in the building too. This oughtta be good.
Russ
Thanks again, Russ (who, for those who don't know, is going to be my co-writer on the upcoming AVENGERS WEST COAST series right here at M2K!)...although I wouldn't necessarily say there's a "new" MACH-1 running around.
Chris Munn
01/17/03
BIBLIOGRAPHY- Goliath and Songbird were hospitalized at the end of Thunderbolts # 15, after being experimented on by Karl Malus.
- Hawkeye abandoned the Thunderbolts in Marvel Fanfare # 4.
- Moonstone was last seen in Thunderbolts # 12.
- This story arc takes place between Avengers # 12 and Avengers # 13.
- Mr. Blackened White first appeared in Thunderbolts # 14.
Toward freedom and the open air.
He had to get away, to escape the confusion that his life had been immersed in only moments before. He'd blown what was to supposed to have been a simple reconnaissance mission, he'd let his anger at seeing his true love hospitalized by a gang of criminals get the better of him. Now the one person that shouldn't exist was pursuing him, hunting him down.
Finally, he broke through the ceiling of the complex's top floor, the rush of the open mid-evening air creating a slight vacuum as a result of his exiting speed. He had to find somewhere to hide, somewhere to collect his thoughts. Unfortunately, he wasn't going to get the chance.
"Get back here, you fucking coward!" a buzzing, synthetic voice commanded in the heights below him. Abe's head turned downward, despite his desire to simply ignore the voice. In the moment of pause, he felt the bullets from his attacker's wrist gun strike his chest, knocking him off balance.
Airstrike went into a free-fall, stunned to the point where he was unable to bring his computer systems back online. His attacker dove after him, ready to make the killing blow, ready to send Abe Jenkins to his maker.
"Not like this," Airstrike muttered to himself, his senses finally reclaimed, "I won't die like this!" His jets flared, sending him screaming into the sky once again, barely avoiding the diving assailant. He climbed in altitude, stopping several hundred feet above his previous position. He hovered in the air and waited for his opponent to come to him.
The similarly armored man flew to the same height and stopped, hovering a few feet away from Abe. "Who are you?" Airstrike asked, the voice synthesizer in his helmet disguising his voice in accented Russian.
"I'm MACH-1," the other man replied, "and I don't care who you are. You tried to kill the woman I love."
Airstrike's eyes narrowed beneath his helmet. This couldn't be happening...he was MACH-1, not this imposter that had seemingly usurped his life.
"Got anything to say about that?" MACH-1 asked.
"Not really," Airstrike replied, following the answer with a repulsor blast to the other man's chest, "just that I'm gonna kill your ass."
# # # # # # # # # #
"Get away, I can take care of myself."
In the hollowed out section of hallway that used to be the recovery area of Justin Hammer's medical facility, the previously injured Donnie Gill attempted to catch his breath. Melissa Gold hovered over him, expressing nothing but concern toward her boyfriend, despite Donnie's wishes to be left alone. Being attended to in the corner of a room that was now missing an inner wall, Fred Meyers winced in a pain as a nurse bandaged his midsection.
"I said get the fuck away, Missy! Jesus Christ!" Donnie commanded, swiping at his lover with a frustrated hand. Melissa could give no answer, as her vocal chords had been forcibly extracted a week prior. She simply turned away, a look of muted pain in her eyes.
Seeing the exchange between the two, Fred stood painfully and walked toward Melissa, cutting off her attempt at leaving the damaged area of the hallway. "Trouble in paradise, babe?" he asked with a smirk, which was unintentionally followed with a wince, the pain in his ribs troubling him more than he wanted to let on.
Melissa shot him a look, one in which Fred was unable to misunderstand the meaning. One look at her face, however, and he could tell that she was close to exhaustion, the attack by Airstrike being too much for her already injured body to take. With a slight bow, he moved aside, allowing her to pass by unimpaired. With a nod, Melissa walked by, making her way back to what was left of her hospital room.
Meyers turned his attention toward Donnie, who was still moping by himself. "An ass kickin' is hard to let go of, eh mate?" he asked, taking a seat beside his partner.
"I got rescued by Missy's ex-fucking-boyfriend, man," Gill replied, "as if the aforementioned ass kicking wasn't enough of a blow to my pride."
"Look, this place is turning into the emergency room from Hell," Fred said seriously, "so I'm gonna go get my bag, suit up in the war wear, and give ol' Abe a hand up in the friendly skies. You cool?"
"I'm cool," Donnie replied as he pulled his mask off of his face, letting the hood fall onto his back, "go get some."
Fred answered only with a grin before standing. "Go check on Mimi in a minute. I think she might not be feeling so hot."
"She ain't gonna be the only one, Boomie ol' buddy," a voice stated from behind, prompting both Fred and Donnie to quickly turn around. They didn't particularly like what they saw.
# # # # # # # # # #
"Mr. Hammer, there are some activities going on in the facility that I think should be aware of."
The aged face of Justin Hammer formed into a scowl, one pointed at the blonde receptionist who had only moments before barged into his office. What was her name...Holly? Heather?
"My name's Harley," she answered his unasked question, "I just...I know you're a busy man, you can never remember my name."
"Speak, Harley," Hammer replied as he returned to the cigar cradled between his fingers, "what should I 'be aware' of?"
"An unidentified aircraft has landed right outside the premises. Also, there are reports of two separate intruders in the facility, Sir. The first one attacked several of your super-operatives in the medical wing, and is currently engaging in an aerial battle with them."
"The second?"
"Is right here..." a deep, menacing voice said from the shadowed corner of the large office. The Scourge stepped slowly into the light, his gun pointed directly at the elderly industrialist.
"Thank you, Ms. Harley," Hammer said with an exhale of cigar smoke, "that will be all. Please leave the room, before our visitor with the gun decides to shoot you."
Harley wasted no time in completing her employer's request, immediately walking out of the room with a brisk pace. Hammer swiveled his chair around, so as to be facing the carefully advancing intruder from behind his large oak desk. "Now, did we need something, young man?"
"You're on my list, Hammer," the killer stated coldly, "so all I need is the satisfaction of seeing you bleed to death on the Persian carpet here."
"Seems as if we're all wearing different masks now, doesn't it?" Hammer asked rhetorically, completely ignoring the Scourge's prior statement. "Where it gets interesting, however, is when I say that I know who's under your mask...while you have no idea who's under mine."
"I know exactly who's under your 'mask', Hammer. In the eyes of the world, you're a billion-dollar industrialist, but I know the truth. You're a criminal, a villain of the worst kind."
"And what kind is that?"
"The kind that's afraid to get his hands dirty."
"So you're here to, what, kill me?" Hammer asked with a slight laugh. The Scourge's eyes narrowed beneath the skull paint, his finger tapping the trigger of his gun. Hammer's laugh quickly silenced, replaced by a look of pure malice. The Scourge, now standing directly in front of his target's desk, pressed the nozzle of his gun against Hammer's forehead.
"Ready for the bang?"
Hammer said nothing, instead choosing to reply with a snap of his fingers. Before the Scourge could react, he felt a forceful slap against the back of his neck. The gun still pressed to Hammer's head, the serial murderer flicked his eyes to the right, only to find an extremely large man in a type of blue armor standing next to him. The new arrival looked down menacingly at the smaller Scourge, the jagged scar lines making his face appear akin to a jigsaw puzzle.
"That foreign object you now feel on the back of your neck," Hammer stated as he pushed his chair backward, away from the gun, "is called a slave disc. Scourge, this is the Controller."
The Scourge's eyes moved back toward Hammer, the orbs filled with hatred. "Put the gun down," the Controller's gravelly voice commanded, to which the enslaved killer had no choice but to comply.
"For such a large man," Hammer said as he lit up another cigar, "the Controller sure is quiet, eh?"
# # # # # # # # # #
He wanted to die. That's how great the pain was, the pain of having the ionic poison filtered out of his body. Erik Josten had been withstanding the pain for half an hour, the probes inserted under his skin pulsating with bio-chemical treatment solutions causing his flesh to blister. The doctors watched from behind their radioactive shielding, knowing that exposure to the pure ionic energy flying around the room would probably be enough to kill a normal person.
"That looks incredibly painful..." a voice proclaimed, causing Erik's eyes to strain open. There was no one in the room, the doctors visible only through the closed circuit television next to the door. Was he going insane already?
"I know what you're thinking," the voice said again, apparently being emitted from thin air. "You're thinking about how badly you wish you could just go ahead and die. About how you wanting nothing more than the pain to stop."
Erick squinted his eyes, which were blurred from the sweat pouring off his forehead. "Who...who's there?"
"Doesn't matter, Mr. Josten. Think of me as...a friendly ghost. How's that?"
The room was empty, Erick decided. Even through the pain, he knew he couldn't be hallucinating. "G-ghost?"
"You need to conquer the pain, Mr. Josten. Your friends upstairs are about to be punished for your mistakes...the Avengers are here to apprehend you."
"The...the Avengers?"
"For your little rampage in New York last week. They want to lock you up for the rest of your life. Your friends are going to try and stop them...but they will fail."
"What...what can I do?"
"You can fight the pain, Mr. Josten...and grow."
# # # # # # # # # #
Airstrike hovered in place, his doppelganger in the same position a few feet away. Abe was sweating profusely underneath his armor, mainly due to the three individuals that had managed to stop his fight with MACH-1 with their mere presence. He swallowed down the lump in his throat, accepting the fact that he was totally screwed.
The Avengers had arrived.
Iron Man, Justice, and Firestar stood in mid-air, the armored one's arms crossed in an authoritative fashion. The two younger heroes flanked Iron Man on either side, floating just behind him. Abe took a glance at his opponent, and decided that MACH-1 was probably thinking the same thing he was.
"Any particular reason you two felt the need to make war in restricted airspace?" Iron Man asked, his arms still crossed. He had no fear of the two similarly armored men, but really, why would he? He was Iron Man.
"Fuck this!" Abe stated, his voice still coming through his helmet speakers in accented Russian. His bootjets flared to life, sending him first higher into the air, but then with a small tumble he turned his direction downward. MACH-1, taking advantage of Airstrike's impetuousness, shot off into the sky as well, going in the opposite direction of the other.
"You two after him!" Iron Man ordered, pointing Firestar and Justice down toward the rapidly descending Airstrike. The two youngest Avengers took off in pursuit, leaving Iron Man to blast into the sky. "The Beetle is all mine."
# # # # # # # # # #
"It's called a concussion arrow," the archer known to the world as Hawkeye stated confidently, the string of his bow pulled back to a firing position, "so I'd think real hard before making any sudden moves."
Blizzard and Boomerang remained still, both realizing that they had been out-flanked by three of the mighty Avengers. Hawkeye stood in the front, the pressure of his taut bowstring not even causing his muscles to strain. Captain America, easily the most intimidating of the heroes, stood a few feet to Hawkeye's left, his shield at the ready. Finally, fluttering around in the air to Hawkeye's right, the winsome Wasp made her diminutive presence known.
"We're looking for Erik Josten," Captain America stated matter-of-factly, "we received a tip that he was here."
"Fuck off, Captain Asshole," Fred smarted off, "leave us alone. You Avengers are nothing more than a bunch of bloody fascists!"
"Yeah, just keep that mouth going..." Hawkeye threatened, turning his bow in Boomerang's direction.
"Just tell us where he's at, so we can get out of here," the Wasp stated as she buzzed around Blizzard's head, "I really have more important things to do at the moment."
Donnie swiped his hand in an attempt to keep the Wasp at a distance, but neither he nor Fred had any idea on how to get out of their situation. Suddenly, a hand shot out of the solid wall behind Blizzard, causing everyone to jump in surprise. The hand, intangible when it exited the wall, solidified enough for it to grab the Wasp in an enclosed fist. A well-dressed man in a sport coat moved through the wall like it was so much a hologram, and his momentum carried him downward toward the floor. The man's arm sunk into the floor, stopping as it reached his shoulder. A second later, the man's arm came back into view, but the Wasp was nowhere to be seen.
"What have you done with the Wasp?" Captain America asked, charging toward the newcomer. Mr. Blackened White let fly a wicked smirk as he stepped backward, his intangible form allowing him to float to a distance away from the Avenger leader.
Hawkeye took aim with his bow, determined to take out the unknown villain with his concussion arrow. Unexpectedly, a steel cord shot forth from the shadows, striking the hero on the wrist. A small electric shock emitted from the whip as it hit, causing Hawkeye's arm to spasm wildly. The arrow shot into the air, hitting a section of the ceiling on the other side of the room, far away from the wraith-like Mr. White.
"Can't have you pulling any sneaky shit, bowman," Blacklash stated as he stepped from the shadows, his whip ready to strike again. "Fred, Donnie, get the fuck out of here!"
Blizzard jumped up, pulling his mask back over his face, and let fly a blast of ice, which struck the still-stunned Hawkeye with enough force to knock him back several feet. Boomerang, however, wasn't quite as lucky. Still in his civilian attire, Fred broke into a run across the open floor, but instead found himself smacked in the face by Captain America's shield.
"Where is Josten?" Cap demanded to know. "And what have you done with the Wasp?"
"The Wasp is fine, she just won't be joining the battle for a while," Mr. White said from his position above, "I just deposited her into the ventilation ducts between this floor and the one below. It's quite a little maze through there, so she should have a bit of trouble finding her way out."
At that moment, a sound of screeching metal and jet rockets prompted both Cap and White to turn their gaze upwards. Like a comet screaming to earth, Airstrike rocketed into the building through the hole he'd made upon his exit. His metal frame, apparently spiraling out of control, tore through Mr. White's intangible form, disrupting it with a surge of electricity. White screamed as his body regained its solidity, causing him to fall to the ground quite painfully.
Airstrike, finally regaining control of his guidance systems, leveled himself out, arcing across the concrete floor in an angle a complete 90 degrees from his previous descent. His speed was too accelerated, as he quickly discovered, and instead of hitting the ground he found himself face-to-face with a plaster wall. Abe crashed through wall after wall, his body soon lost amidst the destruction.
"Looks like these guys are doing our for us," Hawkeye quipped, his balance regained after Blizzard's attack. Another arrow was pulled from his quiver, which he launched immediately at the retreating Blacklash. A steel-fiber net exploded from the tip of the arrow, ensnaring Mark spectacularly.
"This is so not good," Donnie remarked to himself, quickly realizing that he was the only one left standing.
# # # # # # # # # #
"The Avengers are here..." Justin Hammer muttered to himself, "they've managed to find me, even here."
"Hammer," The Controller started, interrupting the older man's thoughts, "what shall we do with our intruder here?"
The industrialist turned his attention back toward the Scourge, who was still immobile from the Controller's slave disc attached to the base of his neck. "That's a good question. What should we do you, friend? I don't think anybody would miss you if we had you killed...after all, you don't even know who you really are."
"I want to kill him," The Controller grunted. Hammer nodded at his employee, but dismissed his statement.
"Should I let the Controller have you, my deathly friend? We are friends, you realize that, of course? Our history goes back for years, though one would never realize it now."
"Enough talk!" the Controller bellowed, raising his massive fists above the Scourge's head. "Kill NOW!"
Without warning, the Scourge's head swiveled in the Controller's direction, his gun arm raising in the same direction. He shoved the gun forward, jamming it directly in the large criminal's mouth. He only had to pull the trigger once.
Hammer took a few steps backward, not expecting what had just happened. The Scourge reached around to the back of his neck, and with a grunt removed the slave disc that had been attached.
"Now," the Scourge said, his eyes narrowing at the millionaire, "you were saying?"
# # # # # # # # # #
"Blizzard, duck and cover!"
MACH-1 blazed into the area from the hole in the ceiling, his wrist guns laying down a cover fire in hopes that his former partner would be able to make it to safety. He flew through the room in a circle pattern, forcing Hawkeye and Captain America to take cover in one of the adjacent rooms.
Before he could take cover himself, however, MACH-1 found himself struck in the back by three different forms of energy. As he spiraled to the ground, he saw Iron Man, Firestar, and Justice make their way through the exposed ceiling. He hit the ground hard, denting his armor as he made contact.
"Aiding and abetting a known criminal," Hawkeye said as he and Cap reentered the room, "sure looks like you guys learned a lot from me, huh Abe?"
"Leopards rarely change their spots, Hawk," the Wasp stated as she, too, flew into the room, "and I found another rat in the woodpile on my way back." Following behind was Melissa, looking the worse for wear. She walked to the center of the room, where the rest of her group had gathered, and waited as the Avengers circled around them.
"We're gonna ask one last time," Captain America said authoritatively, "where is Goliath?"
Suddenly, the room was bathed in an intense flash of light, forcing everybody to cover their eyes. "Sorry to disappoint, Avengers," a female voice said through the light, "but this is far as this goes."
Melissa rubbed her eyes, her vision slowly coming back into focus. A group of five people stood before them, their identities recognizable by all, whether by personal experience or through reputation. Splice, a former Hollywood assassin, his wrist blades clinking together...the Plant Man, whose arms squirmed from the ivy encircling them...Volcana, her skin blistering with the effects of her molten powers...Gladiator, the buzzsaws on his arms spinning furiously...
"Oh great," Hawkeye commented, "why'd it have to be her?"
...and Moonstone, her arms folded across her chest, a smirk plastered on her face. "If you want Erik, you're going to have to go through us."
"What the hell is going on?" MACH-1 whispered to his allies.
"Don't worry, Abe," Moonstone replied, "the Thunderbolts are here to rescue you..."
# # # # # # # # # #
Next Issue: The new Thunderbolts make their debut, but with the Scourge running around in the compound, will all of them make it out alive? Find out in the conclusion to "Mergers and Acquisitions"!
# # # # # # # # # #
LIGHTNING STRIKES
This month, we have yet another letter from my esteemed colleague, Russ Anderson!
Finally read the new issue of T-bolts, and nothing to report besides the fact that it's still groovy as all hell. I like that I still don't have much idea what the hell's going on in this book, but that it doesn't slow down long enough for that to become an issue. The fight scenes are well choreographed, and the characterizations are still solid.
Thank ya, thank ya, Russah Russ! I kind of struggle writing action scenes, but I think I'm doing a credible job on 'em in Tbolts. As for not know what the hell's going on, just wait...it'll all start making sense real soon.
I'm wondering why the CSA seemed to remember letting Mach-1 free during Mike Exner's run, but, judging by his reminiscences, Abe himself doesn't seem to remember this. What's up with that?
Yes, MACH-1 was indeed released from the Vault by Emil Warton in one of the early issues of Thunderbolts. Trust me, the whole Airstrike/MACH-1 story will start to fall into place with # 19-21, and hopefully there will be quite a few twists and turns left to go.
Oh, Avengers Assemble, huh? With the Scourge and a new Mach-1 loose in the building too. This oughtta be good.
Russ
Thanks again, Russ (who, for those who don't know, is going to be my co-writer on the upcoming AVENGERS WEST COAST series right here at M2K!)...although I wouldn't necessarily say there's a "new" MACH-1 running around.
Chris Munn
01/17/03
BIBLIOGRAPHY- Goliath and Songbird were hospitalized at the end of Thunderbolts # 15, after being experimented on by Karl Malus.
- Hawkeye abandoned the Thunderbolts in Marvel Fanfare # 4.
- Moonstone was last seen in Thunderbolts # 12.
- This story arc takes place between Avengers # 12 and Avengers # 13.
- Mr. Blackened White first appeared in Thunderbolts # 14.