Fred Meyers was screwed.
A war had erupted in the medical facility owned by his boss, Justin Hammer, a war between his friends and allies and the Avengers, the world's premiere super-hero team. They'd been thrashed soundly by the do-gooders, brought to the point of surrender, when another group of costumed maniacs interrupted, calling themselves the new Thunderbolts. Normally, this kind of thing was part and parcel of Fred's chosen occupation, but this time things were a little different. Normally, he'd be in the thick of the battle, giving as good as he got, dressed in his cybernetic Boomerang suit. This time, though, there was a little problem.
"Fucking bloody HELL!" he exclaimed as a stray repulsor blast from the armored Avenger known as Iron Man came within inches of hitting him. This time, he didn't have his Boomerang suit. He was more or less naked and powerless, nothing but a walking target in the middle of the firefight that had erupted upon the Thunderbolts entrance. All he could do now was hide in a corner and hope his side won.
As he ran along the outer wall of the demolished medical bay, his eyes caught sight of another unfortunate. Across the room, hunkered down in a frightened version of the fetal position, was Melissa Gold. She was like him, powerless and unable to defend herself, as the sonic vocal chords that constituted her identity as Songbird had been forcibly extracted a week earlier.
"Damnation," Fred muttered to himself as he broke into a sprint across the middle of the warzone, "hold on, Mimi! Ol' Freddy's coming to get you!"
Surprisingly, he reached her without incident, weaving his way between the combatants quite easily. Taking her hand in his, he started to move the frightened girl to a safer position.
He saw it happen like it was in slow motion.
The Avenger Hawkeye had an arrow nocked in his bow, ready to strike the preoccupied MACH-1 from the air. His concentration focused on the man hovering above him, the bowman failed to notice Blizzard behind him. A blast of ice exploded from the villain's hands, hitting Hawkeye with enough force to knock him off his feet. The arrow immediately released from the Avengers' grasp, only instead of heading into the air at the intended target, the arrow launched wildly...right toward the defenseless Fred and Melissa.
"Shit!" Fred shouted, instinctively shielding Melissa's body with his, closing his eyes and bracing for the arrow's impact. Instead, however, he only felt the firm grip of a man's hand on his shoulder, pulling him and Melissa backwards. When he realized that he wasn't, in fact, dead, Fred opened his eyes. Both he and Melissa were now in an adjacent room, separated from the battle by a wall of solid steel.
"You're lucky I spotted you," their savior stated. Fred helped Melissa to her feet, nodding at the tattered and bruised Mr. White.
"Yeah, amen fer that," Meyers said with a grunt, his broken ribs causing him quite a bit of pain, "I guess intangibility is a pretty handy power to have, after all."
"Those fools are going to destroy this place," White remarked, his pupil-less eyes now red from bloodshot, "so I suggest you two make your way to Mr. Hammer's office. It's fortified, so you'll at least be safe."
"Good idea, mate," Fred agreed as he and Melissa started to limp down the hall, using each other for support, "good luck and all of that. Don't get killed or anything."
White said nothing as he watched the two walk down the hallway, his eyes locked on them until they rounded the corner into another corridor. His mouth then twisted into a grin and slowly he began to sink into the floor, travelling down and away from the battle raging through the wall.
Why should he endanger himself even more than he already had? As his head disappeared into the floor, a slight laugh escaped his lips.
He had a secret weapon.
A war had erupted in the medical facility owned by his boss, Justin Hammer, a war between his friends and allies and the Avengers, the world's premiere super-hero team. They'd been thrashed soundly by the do-gooders, brought to the point of surrender, when another group of costumed maniacs interrupted, calling themselves the new Thunderbolts. Normally, this kind of thing was part and parcel of Fred's chosen occupation, but this time things were a little different. Normally, he'd be in the thick of the battle, giving as good as he got, dressed in his cybernetic Boomerang suit. This time, though, there was a little problem.
"Fucking bloody HELL!" he exclaimed as a stray repulsor blast from the armored Avenger known as Iron Man came within inches of hitting him. This time, he didn't have his Boomerang suit. He was more or less naked and powerless, nothing but a walking target in the middle of the firefight that had erupted upon the Thunderbolts entrance. All he could do now was hide in a corner and hope his side won.
As he ran along the outer wall of the demolished medical bay, his eyes caught sight of another unfortunate. Across the room, hunkered down in a frightened version of the fetal position, was Melissa Gold. She was like him, powerless and unable to defend herself, as the sonic vocal chords that constituted her identity as Songbird had been forcibly extracted a week earlier.
"Damnation," Fred muttered to himself as he broke into a sprint across the middle of the warzone, "hold on, Mimi! Ol' Freddy's coming to get you!"
Surprisingly, he reached her without incident, weaving his way between the combatants quite easily. Taking her hand in his, he started to move the frightened girl to a safer position.
He saw it happen like it was in slow motion.
The Avenger Hawkeye had an arrow nocked in his bow, ready to strike the preoccupied MACH-1 from the air. His concentration focused on the man hovering above him, the bowman failed to notice Blizzard behind him. A blast of ice exploded from the villain's hands, hitting Hawkeye with enough force to knock him off his feet. The arrow immediately released from the Avengers' grasp, only instead of heading into the air at the intended target, the arrow launched wildly...right toward the defenseless Fred and Melissa.
"Shit!" Fred shouted, instinctively shielding Melissa's body with his, closing his eyes and bracing for the arrow's impact. Instead, however, he only felt the firm grip of a man's hand on his shoulder, pulling him and Melissa backwards. When he realized that he wasn't, in fact, dead, Fred opened his eyes. Both he and Melissa were now in an adjacent room, separated from the battle by a wall of solid steel.
"You're lucky I spotted you," their savior stated. Fred helped Melissa to her feet, nodding at the tattered and bruised Mr. White.
"Yeah, amen fer that," Meyers said with a grunt, his broken ribs causing him quite a bit of pain, "I guess intangibility is a pretty handy power to have, after all."
"Those fools are going to destroy this place," White remarked, his pupil-less eyes now red from bloodshot, "so I suggest you two make your way to Mr. Hammer's office. It's fortified, so you'll at least be safe."
"Good idea, mate," Fred agreed as he and Melissa started to limp down the hall, using each other for support, "good luck and all of that. Don't get killed or anything."
White said nothing as he watched the two walk down the hallway, his eyes locked on them until they rounded the corner into another corridor. His mouth then twisted into a grin and slowly he began to sink into the floor, travelling down and away from the battle raging through the wall.
Why should he endanger himself even more than he already had? As his head disappeared into the floor, a slight laugh escaped his lips.
He had a secret weapon.
Back to GatefoldIssue #18 by Chris Munn
MERGERS AND ACQUISITIONS - Part 3 of 3 |
"I know who you are."
"Do you now?"
The Scourge seemed to grin slightly, the facial features hidden beneath the skull mask contorting the fabric. His posture gave no overtly threatening gestures as he relaxed in the soft leather chair behind the desk, his feet kicked up onto the oak finish. His pistol was still clutched in his grasp, but his hands rested on his lap.
Justin Hammer, similarly, showed no outward signs of intimidation toward the man that threatened his life. He was standing in the center of his office, his cold stare burning into the Scourge. "I can prove it. I can unlock all your secrets, my friend."
"All you're going to do is bleed to death next to your bodyguard there," the assassin remarked, nodding his head in the direction of the Controller, the latest victim in the Scourge's campaign of murder.
"Then you'd be making a terrible mistake," was Hammer's only reply as he fished around in the pockets of his suit coat. When his hand emerged, he produced a small computer disk. "I've known of your intentions for quite some time. In fact, I knew you were coming before you did. Would you like to know how?"
The Scourge remained silent.
"Of course you would," Hammer answered for him, a wicked grin pasted across his face, "of course you would."
# # # # # # # # # #
Hawkeye struggled to breathe as the hand locked around his throat, nearly crushing his windpipe. Within seconds, the small woman named Moonstone had the bowman lifted into the air, slamming him into the nearest wall and holding him there. The blonde woman, whom Hawkeye had previously noted was not dressed in her normal white and gold costume, instead dressed in a rather unassuming black shirt-and-pant ensemble with matching leather jacket, smiled as she tightened her grip on her former teammate's throat.
"How have you been, Clint?" she asked, her pupil-less eyes pulsating with a white radiance. "As you can see, things have changed slightly since we last talked."
"Really..." he coughed out, trying in vain to break the woman's grip, "I hadn't...hadn't noticed."
"Nice to see you back with the Avengers, Hawkeye," Moonstone stated with a scowl, ignoring the archer's comment. "Feel good to be back with the boy scouts again?"
"Karla, don't...don't do this," he rasped, the lack of oxygen draining the life from his body, "don't want...to hurt you."
"A little late for that, don't you think?" she hissed. Moonstone closed her fist tighter, increasing the pressure on Barton's throat like a vice. Karla retained her scowl as the Avenger lost consciousness, finally giving in to oblivion.
"Let him go, Moonstone," an electronic voice buzzed from behind her, "and see if you can take on someone a little closer to your league."
Karla turned her head slightly, throwing a smile at the armored Avenger, Iron Man. Her hand relaxed, allowing the unconscious Hawkeye to fall to the floor in a slump. "My pleasure."
# # # # # # # # # #
Captain America stood with confidence before the two individuals charging toward him. One was Splice, a bladed assassin first seen in Los Angeles by Wonder Man, a sociopath with a fetish for the movie business. The second, the buzzsaws attached to his wrists spinning furiously, was the Gladiator, a former villain that had reportedly reformed. What they were doing in Justin Hammer's facility, and their claim to the name Thunderbolts, was beyond his understanding, but the reasons weren't important.
Splice reached the Captain first, the blades extending from his forearms slicing the air as he lunged forward. The leader of the Avengers moved only his arm, using his shield to block the weapons, driving them downward into the ground. In one fluid motion, he followed the defense with an offense of his own, planting a hard left hook to the masked assassin's jaw. Splice went down, and he didn't get up.
"I don't want to hurt you, man," Gladiator said as he attacked, raking his saws across Cap's shield. The sentinel of liberty pivoted on his right leg, finally moving from his standing position as he threw up a roundhouse kick to the side of the villain's head, connecting with the steel helmet that protected his face.
"It looks like the reports of you going straight were slightly exaggerated, Gladiator," the Captain stated as he flipped backwards, landing a few feet away. After he regained his bearings, Gladiator charged once again, only to be downed by a swift kick to his midsection.
"Gladiator, I want to know where Erik Josten is - excuse me -" Cap paused his interrogation, throwing his shield in a wide arc behind him. The spinning disc connected forcefully with the nose of Donny Gill, better known as Blizzard, causing him to fall to his knees in pain, his white facemask quickly turning red from the blood gushing from his nose. Cap flipped backwards again, landing in the exact position to which the rebounding shield returned, and caught the weapon with perfect skill.
"Sorry for the interruption," the Avenger continued as he again fended off an attack by Gladiator's spinning blades, "now where is Josten?" The Captain lunged forward with his shield, connecting with Gladiator's helmet across the eyes, easily denting the steel inward. Blinded, the villain flailed his arms wildly, hoping to keep away any further attacks. Dodging the man's limbs, Cap shot out his leg, stomping on the back of Gladiator's knee, sending him tumbling to the ground. A judo chop to the back of the man's neck, knocking him unconscious, allowed Captain America to immediately move further into the battle.
# # # # # # # # # #
"You planning on getting up any time soon?"
Erik Josten opened his tear-streaked eyes at the sound of the familiar voice. This time, however, instead of seeing an empty room, a strange man was standing at the foot of his bed. Mr. White exhaled cigarette smoke, blowing smoke rings toward Josten, causing him to cough in protest.
"I thought I made it clear the last time I visited," White said between draws, "that your assistance is sorely needed upstairs."
"I...I'm dying," Josten said weakly, "how can I help anybody?"
White sighed. "You know the doctors attending you have already fled the building? They left you to die."
"I know."
"Then let's do something about that," the stranger said with a smile as he produced a large hypodermic needle.
"What's that?"
"Never you mind, Erik," he replied as he slipped the needle into Josten's IV. As the serum entered Goliath's bloodstream, the man began to spasm in unbearable pain.
"Think big, Mr. Josten."
# # # # # # # # # #
The Scourge eyed the small disc that rested in the palm of his hand, trying to ignore the evil grin that Justin Hammer displayed proudly. "You want to know, don't you?" the elderly man asked. "You NEED to know. Take it with my blessing and consider it an extension of life for myself. Although I believe that, after you see the contents of that disc, I'll be the LAST person on your assassination list."
"How about this," Scourge said as he raised his gun to the millionaire's face, "I take the disc AND kill you. Sounds like a win/win situation to me."
"Yes, yes you COULD do that," Hammer argued, the grin never leaving his lips, "but then you'd be left to wonder how I acquired the knowledge on that disc."
The Scourge said nothing, holding the gun in its point blank position for several long seconds. Finally, narrowing his eyes into a cold stare, he lowered the weapon. "Good point. Consider this a postponement."
Suddenly, the large double doors that served as the entrance to Hammer's office burst open, revealing a rather worse-for-wear Fred Meyers, carrying the injured Melissa Gold. "Hammer, wake the fuck up, man! The Avengers are thrashing shit like nobody's business!" He stopped in his tracks when he saw the skull-faced individual standing before his employer.
"At least I won't go away completely empty handed today," the Scourge stated calmly as he raised his gun, firing several rounds at the two powerless individuals at the door. Fred, again acting uncharacteristically chivalrous, shoved Melissa to the floor, and as payment for his action caught an armor piercing round in the shoulder.
"SHIT!" Fred recoiled backward, the bullet blowing a hole the size of a golf ball through the back of his shoulder blade. He groaned in pain from the floor of the office's waiting room, the force of the impact having blown him back through the open doors.
"Justice is served." The Scourge, now towering over the wounded Boomerang, raised his weapon to the man's face. Before he could pull the trigger, however, the assassin's action was halted by a fierce tremor, one strong enough to knock the Scourge off his feet. The rumbling continued, keeping the room's occupants from returning to their feet.
"What the hell is that?" Fred asked as the Scourge scrambled toward the office's exit, determined to answer that question himself.
# # # # # # # # # #
The airspace of the medical bay was almost too crowded for flight, Airstrike noticed. Having finally climbed from the wreckage made upon his crash landing, Abe Jenkins observed the aerial war that took place above him. Skipping past most of the combatants, his eyes locked on MACH-1, who was engaged in battle with the Avenger named Firestar. He tossed several scenarios around in his head, trying to decide if he should join the melee or run for his life. These were the Avengers, after all.
"Now who might you be?" an unfamiliar voice asked, breaking Abe's concentration away from his flying usurper. The former Beetle turned to his left, his helmet's sensors locking onto the green skinned man in the brown trench coat.
"I know you, don't I?" he asked, his voice coming through the helmet's speakers in a thick Russian accent. The green man smiled and said nothing. "You're the fucking Plant Man, right?"
"Been a while since somebody's called me that," he replied, "I go by the name Taproot now."
"Whatever you call yourself," Abe stated as turned away from the villain, "you're still a lame ass."
Suddenly, dozens of ivy vines exploded from the floor beneath Airstrike, wrapping around him with the strength of steel cables. Jenkins' boot-jets flared to life, sending him into the air only a few feet, the vines holding strong despite the stress. "Ever seen a Venus Flytrap up close?" Taproot asked, and on command a large pod entered the room through the hole created by the vines. The pod opened, revealing what looked like a mouth lined with razor sharp teeth.
"Shiiiiiiiit!" Airstrike poured all of his strength into his struggle as the vines slowly pulled him closer to the plant's gaping maw. At the last moment, the flora gave up the fight, relaxing their grip enough for Abe to rip his way free. When he landed, several feet away, he saw the former Plant Man lying face down on the ground, the Avenger known as the Wasp buzzing around his unconscious body.
"Looks like my cue to get the fuck outta dodge," Jenkins commented to himself, wasting no time as he rocketed out of the hole blown through the ceiling.
Out of all the combatants present, only Iron Man noticed Airstrike's retreat, and he silently cursed the fact that he was unable to pursue. Using the split-second moment of distraction, Moonstone successfully landed a force blast to the armored one's faceplate, blinding him and effectively causing him to crash into the nearest wall.
"The almighty Avengers," Moonstone said with a smirk as she hovered over the grounded Iron Man, "humbled by a bunch of nobodies. You weren't there when the Masters of Evil took over your base, were you?"
Suddenly, Karla felt a sharp blow to the back of her helmet, the force sufficient enough to flip her head over heels in the air. When she landed, on her back, her eyes met with Captain America as he caught his returning shield. "I was there, Moonstone," Cap said, scowling as he spoke, "and I'll never forget."
Her senses rattled from the shield's contact with her helmet, Moonstone found herself unable to stay balanced, falling over each time she attempted to stand. "The Avengers are finishing off the rest of your cronies, Moonstone," the Captain stated, "it's over."
"Never!" Moonstone raised her hands, a flash of light signaling the release of her force beam. Captain America didn't even flinch as the blast rocketed toward him, eventually stopping just inches from his face. "Thanks, Justice," Cap said to the young man hovering above them, his telekinetic power protecting the team leader.
Without warning, every combatant in the room felt the tremor, knocking all but the airborne to the ground. The floor began to crack and split, as if an earthquake was hitting the building. "Volcana!" Moonstone shouted over the noise. "Is this your doing?"
The woman with the molten form nervously shook her head as she attempted to regain her footing. Finally, the floor heaved, giving way to a most unexpected sight. Giant fingers dug through the steel and concrete, followed immediately by an enormous arm. A cry of anger, or perhaps one of pain, reverberated throughout the installation as the giant man forced his way skyward, causing everyone to scatter out of his way.
"Oh, it's fuckin' on now," Blizzard stated as Erik Josten turned his gaze downward, taking the measure of the collected Avengers below him. The rest of the villains cheered as Josten threw a mighty smirk.
"Goliath's back, heroes," he said confidently, his voice booming throughout the room, "now what you gonna do?"
# # # # # # # # # #
"What the fuck happened here?" Blacklash asked as he made his way into the ravaged room that served as Justin Hammer's office. Hammer himself was sitting at his desk, enjoying a slow puff on an expensive cigar, looking as if he was oblivious to what was going on in his building.
"Hammer!" Mark shouted as he made his way through the room. "We need some fuckin' help downstairs, man!"
"Mr. Scarlotti," the billionaire said softly, pointing to the far corner of the room, "I think they might need your help."
Blacklash turned around, immediately finding the wounded and unconscious forms of his friends, Melissa and Fred. "What happened to them?" he asked as he quickly made his way over to them. "Hell, Fred's been shot!"
"Are you familiar with a person called the Scourge?" Hammer asked.
Mark's eyes narrowed. "Everybody's familiar with the Scourge."
"Well, that's your answer about what happened in here," the cigar smoker said, his expression grim, "and it might behoove you to know that the Scourge is currently making a bee-line toward the scene of your altercation with the Avengers."
"Oh...shit," was the only reply that Blacklash could give.
# # # # # # # # # #
The Scourge smiled as he observed the fierce battle before him, sizing up both the villainous Thunderbolts and the Avengers from his doorway vantage point. He realized, of course, that he could simply just stand aside and let the heroes defeat the villains for him. They would most assuredly go to jail, and there was really no doubt that the heroes would prevail.
But really, what's the fun in that?
The murderer waded into the battleground, at first ignored by the combatants. It was the Avenger, Firestar, that noticed him first, which was a pity. He had no desire to cause harm to the heroes, after all. They weren't guilty, simply misguided. He fired a few wide warning shots into the air, causing her to veer away, right into the arms of the colossal form of Goliath. Now there was a target.
"New player on the field!" a voice shouted from behind him, one just seething with pent-up rage and anger. Without even a backward glance, the Scourge fired several shots behind him, smiling as he heard the armor piercing rounds hit their target. He turned then, confident that his shots had hit their mark. Disappointingly, the villain named Splice was still alive, crawling on the floor toward his target despite the numerous gunshot wounds to his body.
"Tenacious, I'll give you that," Scourge stated as he fired several more rounds into Splice's face and back, stopping his forward movement. This action, to the killer's surprise, brought the fight to a screeching halt, each combatant looking on at the murder that had just occurred with open-mouthed astonishment.
"Cap!" the Wasp cried out, even though her voice could barely be heard at her diminutive insect size. "That's...is that who I think it is?"
"The Scourge." Captain America answered, hissing the name through gritted teeth.
"Avengers, would you be so kind as to turn around, or leave the room, or something?" the skull-faced murderer asked. "There's going to be quite a bit of bloodshed in approximately thirty seconds, and I wouldn't want to make you heroes queasy."
"Fuck that," Erik Josten said, his giant hand swooping down with incredible speed. Before the Scourge could react, he was caught in Goliath's grip, unable to move as the former villain raised him into the sky. "Say goodbye, sicko." Goliath threw the Scourge like a baseball, into the air and through the hole in the ceiling, his strength propelling him to incredible heights. Both Iron Man and Firestar shot into the sky after the ejected Scourge, but could only watch as he covered a distance of miles, disappearing from their line-of-sight.
"Now, we gonna finish this, Avengers?" Blizzard asked, suddenly confident in the assembled force that surrounded the heroes.
"Nobody's finishing anything," the voice of Justin Hammer stated as he slowly walked into the room, placing a hand on Donny's shoulder when he reached him. Mr. White walked with him, providing protection for any unwarranted attacks that might come his way, from either party of combatants. "You Avengers are trespassing," Hammer stated, directing the sentence at Captain America, "and I would appreciate your leaving, posthaste."
"We're here to apprehend Goliath," Iron Man said as he landed amongst the group of heroes, "and we're not leaving without him."
"I'm afraid you are. Mr. Josten has done nothing illegal, and as one of my employees he is guaranteed protection from outside harassment. That would be you."
"He went amok in the middle of New York City," the Captain began, but was silenced by the industrialist's production of a video tape.
"This tape is from one of the local New York television stations, and it shows that Erik was not of sound mind when he went on his unfortunate rampage. It also shows that the city has three of my other employees to thank for stopping his seizure before it took any more lives."
"Regardless," Cap argued, "we're still taking him in."
"Then where's your warrant?" Hammer asked with a wicked grin.
"Cap, wait," Iron Man said, whispering into his comrade's ear, "we may know we're right, but the public sees Hammer as a legit businessman. If he wanted to, he could probably sue us into oblivion. I know from personal experience, he's not one we can just butt heads with like this."
Captain America thought for a moment over what he'd been told. "Fine, you want to play it this way, then we can do that. We'll get our warrant, Hammer, and we'll be back. For you as well as for Goliath."
Hammer said nothing as the Avengers ascended through the hole in the roof, the non-flying members carried away by Justice's telekinesis. The remaining Thunderbolts crowded around their employer, all battle-weary and close to exhaustion. "Donny," White said, addressing the bruised and battered Blizzard, "Blacklash is in the boss' office, watching over Melissa and Fred. They were both wounded pretty badly."
"Oh shit, Missy!" Donny exclaimed as he broke away from the group, running down the hallway.
"Some trial by fire, eh Justin?" Moonstone asked as she crouched down, examining Splice's limp corpse.
"I thought you performed splendidly," Hammer replied. He turned toward the assembled collection of villains. Moonstone, Goliath, Volcana, Gladiator, and Taproot..."one half of my Thunderbolts. We'll give the others a little bit of time to adjust. Let them catch their breath a little. The complex was evacuated when the Avengers performed their little breaking-and-entering, and we should quickly do the same. Perhaps somewhere on the West Coast this time?"
# # # # # # # # # #
The house looked as if it'd been hit by a gamma bomb, broken wood and glass littering the area of impact. By an insane stroke of luck, the home had been abandoned only a week prior, meaning no innocent victims of the crash-landing that had just occurred. From the look of the destruction, one would assume that nothing could have survived the impact of the landing.
Slowly, a pile of the boards and brick began to stir, and a pair of hands emerged, digging through the rubble. The Scourge stood on shaky legs, but otherwise looked none the worse for wear. "Well, that was unexpected," he said as he brushed the dirt and dust from his black suit.
He immediately began to sift through the rubble, eventually finding his gun a few feet away, having miraculously held onto the weapon during his flight. Holstering the gun, he then dug through his pockets, searching for the item he'd won in trade for Justin Hammer's life. He pulled the small disc from his breast pocket, finding it to still be in good condition.
"You win some," he said as he studied the disc, a malicious grin twisting across his skull face, "you lose some..."
# # # # # # # # # #
NEXT ISSUE: It's been a mystery for months, but get ready for all of your questions to be answered in the next two issues of Thunderbolts! Who is the new Scourge? What happened on the Thunderbolts final mission? What's up with the two people claiming to be MACH-1? The pieces start falling into place in # 19, featuring the return to the book of an old friend, and the introduction of...the Masters of Evil!
# # # # # # # # # #
LIGHTNING STRIKES
Well, it's three months late, but Thunderbolts # 18 is finally here. One thing I wanted to make note of, which I forgot to do last issue, is when exactly this story takes place in reference to the Avengers. Continuity-wise, this arc takes place right between Avengers # 13 (Will Short's last issue) and # 14 (Brent Lambert's first issue).
Also, I want to make an apology. I had a boat-load of letters for Tbolts # 17, and I'd planned to answer every single one of them here in the lettercol. Unfortunately, my AOL connection decided to go belly-up on me, forcing me to re-install the program, meaning I lost all of your letters. So, I want to thank the following people for taking the time to write me about the previous issue (and if I forget to mention you here, I apologize in advance): Brent Lambert, Russ Anderson, Steve Crosby, Thomas Deja, and David Ingram. You all seriously rock.
Chris Munn
04/29/03
BIBLIOGRAPHY- Goliath was hospitalized at the end of Thunderbolts # 15, after being experimented on by Karl Malus.
- Hawkeye abandoned the Thunderbolts in Marvel Fanfare # 4.
"Do you now?"
The Scourge seemed to grin slightly, the facial features hidden beneath the skull mask contorting the fabric. His posture gave no overtly threatening gestures as he relaxed in the soft leather chair behind the desk, his feet kicked up onto the oak finish. His pistol was still clutched in his grasp, but his hands rested on his lap.
Justin Hammer, similarly, showed no outward signs of intimidation toward the man that threatened his life. He was standing in the center of his office, his cold stare burning into the Scourge. "I can prove it. I can unlock all your secrets, my friend."
"All you're going to do is bleed to death next to your bodyguard there," the assassin remarked, nodding his head in the direction of the Controller, the latest victim in the Scourge's campaign of murder.
"Then you'd be making a terrible mistake," was Hammer's only reply as he fished around in the pockets of his suit coat. When his hand emerged, he produced a small computer disk. "I've known of your intentions for quite some time. In fact, I knew you were coming before you did. Would you like to know how?"
The Scourge remained silent.
"Of course you would," Hammer answered for him, a wicked grin pasted across his face, "of course you would."
# # # # # # # # # #
Hawkeye struggled to breathe as the hand locked around his throat, nearly crushing his windpipe. Within seconds, the small woman named Moonstone had the bowman lifted into the air, slamming him into the nearest wall and holding him there. The blonde woman, whom Hawkeye had previously noted was not dressed in her normal white and gold costume, instead dressed in a rather unassuming black shirt-and-pant ensemble with matching leather jacket, smiled as she tightened her grip on her former teammate's throat.
"How have you been, Clint?" she asked, her pupil-less eyes pulsating with a white radiance. "As you can see, things have changed slightly since we last talked."
"Really..." he coughed out, trying in vain to break the woman's grip, "I hadn't...hadn't noticed."
"Nice to see you back with the Avengers, Hawkeye," Moonstone stated with a scowl, ignoring the archer's comment. "Feel good to be back with the boy scouts again?"
"Karla, don't...don't do this," he rasped, the lack of oxygen draining the life from his body, "don't want...to hurt you."
"A little late for that, don't you think?" she hissed. Moonstone closed her fist tighter, increasing the pressure on Barton's throat like a vice. Karla retained her scowl as the Avenger lost consciousness, finally giving in to oblivion.
"Let him go, Moonstone," an electronic voice buzzed from behind her, "and see if you can take on someone a little closer to your league."
Karla turned her head slightly, throwing a smile at the armored Avenger, Iron Man. Her hand relaxed, allowing the unconscious Hawkeye to fall to the floor in a slump. "My pleasure."
# # # # # # # # # #
Captain America stood with confidence before the two individuals charging toward him. One was Splice, a bladed assassin first seen in Los Angeles by Wonder Man, a sociopath with a fetish for the movie business. The second, the buzzsaws attached to his wrists spinning furiously, was the Gladiator, a former villain that had reportedly reformed. What they were doing in Justin Hammer's facility, and their claim to the name Thunderbolts, was beyond his understanding, but the reasons weren't important.
Splice reached the Captain first, the blades extending from his forearms slicing the air as he lunged forward. The leader of the Avengers moved only his arm, using his shield to block the weapons, driving them downward into the ground. In one fluid motion, he followed the defense with an offense of his own, planting a hard left hook to the masked assassin's jaw. Splice went down, and he didn't get up.
"I don't want to hurt you, man," Gladiator said as he attacked, raking his saws across Cap's shield. The sentinel of liberty pivoted on his right leg, finally moving from his standing position as he threw up a roundhouse kick to the side of the villain's head, connecting with the steel helmet that protected his face.
"It looks like the reports of you going straight were slightly exaggerated, Gladiator," the Captain stated as he flipped backwards, landing a few feet away. After he regained his bearings, Gladiator charged once again, only to be downed by a swift kick to his midsection.
"Gladiator, I want to know where Erik Josten is - excuse me -" Cap paused his interrogation, throwing his shield in a wide arc behind him. The spinning disc connected forcefully with the nose of Donny Gill, better known as Blizzard, causing him to fall to his knees in pain, his white facemask quickly turning red from the blood gushing from his nose. Cap flipped backwards again, landing in the exact position to which the rebounding shield returned, and caught the weapon with perfect skill.
"Sorry for the interruption," the Avenger continued as he again fended off an attack by Gladiator's spinning blades, "now where is Josten?" The Captain lunged forward with his shield, connecting with Gladiator's helmet across the eyes, easily denting the steel inward. Blinded, the villain flailed his arms wildly, hoping to keep away any further attacks. Dodging the man's limbs, Cap shot out his leg, stomping on the back of Gladiator's knee, sending him tumbling to the ground. A judo chop to the back of the man's neck, knocking him unconscious, allowed Captain America to immediately move further into the battle.
# # # # # # # # # #
"You planning on getting up any time soon?"
Erik Josten opened his tear-streaked eyes at the sound of the familiar voice. This time, however, instead of seeing an empty room, a strange man was standing at the foot of his bed. Mr. White exhaled cigarette smoke, blowing smoke rings toward Josten, causing him to cough in protest.
"I thought I made it clear the last time I visited," White said between draws, "that your assistance is sorely needed upstairs."
"I...I'm dying," Josten said weakly, "how can I help anybody?"
White sighed. "You know the doctors attending you have already fled the building? They left you to die."
"I know."
"Then let's do something about that," the stranger said with a smile as he produced a large hypodermic needle.
"What's that?"
"Never you mind, Erik," he replied as he slipped the needle into Josten's IV. As the serum entered Goliath's bloodstream, the man began to spasm in unbearable pain.
"Think big, Mr. Josten."
# # # # # # # # # #
The Scourge eyed the small disc that rested in the palm of his hand, trying to ignore the evil grin that Justin Hammer displayed proudly. "You want to know, don't you?" the elderly man asked. "You NEED to know. Take it with my blessing and consider it an extension of life for myself. Although I believe that, after you see the contents of that disc, I'll be the LAST person on your assassination list."
"How about this," Scourge said as he raised his gun to the millionaire's face, "I take the disc AND kill you. Sounds like a win/win situation to me."
"Yes, yes you COULD do that," Hammer argued, the grin never leaving his lips, "but then you'd be left to wonder how I acquired the knowledge on that disc."
The Scourge said nothing, holding the gun in its point blank position for several long seconds. Finally, narrowing his eyes into a cold stare, he lowered the weapon. "Good point. Consider this a postponement."
Suddenly, the large double doors that served as the entrance to Hammer's office burst open, revealing a rather worse-for-wear Fred Meyers, carrying the injured Melissa Gold. "Hammer, wake the fuck up, man! The Avengers are thrashing shit like nobody's business!" He stopped in his tracks when he saw the skull-faced individual standing before his employer.
"At least I won't go away completely empty handed today," the Scourge stated calmly as he raised his gun, firing several rounds at the two powerless individuals at the door. Fred, again acting uncharacteristically chivalrous, shoved Melissa to the floor, and as payment for his action caught an armor piercing round in the shoulder.
"SHIT!" Fred recoiled backward, the bullet blowing a hole the size of a golf ball through the back of his shoulder blade. He groaned in pain from the floor of the office's waiting room, the force of the impact having blown him back through the open doors.
"Justice is served." The Scourge, now towering over the wounded Boomerang, raised his weapon to the man's face. Before he could pull the trigger, however, the assassin's action was halted by a fierce tremor, one strong enough to knock the Scourge off his feet. The rumbling continued, keeping the room's occupants from returning to their feet.
"What the hell is that?" Fred asked as the Scourge scrambled toward the office's exit, determined to answer that question himself.
# # # # # # # # # #
The airspace of the medical bay was almost too crowded for flight, Airstrike noticed. Having finally climbed from the wreckage made upon his crash landing, Abe Jenkins observed the aerial war that took place above him. Skipping past most of the combatants, his eyes locked on MACH-1, who was engaged in battle with the Avenger named Firestar. He tossed several scenarios around in his head, trying to decide if he should join the melee or run for his life. These were the Avengers, after all.
"Now who might you be?" an unfamiliar voice asked, breaking Abe's concentration away from his flying usurper. The former Beetle turned to his left, his helmet's sensors locking onto the green skinned man in the brown trench coat.
"I know you, don't I?" he asked, his voice coming through the helmet's speakers in a thick Russian accent. The green man smiled and said nothing. "You're the fucking Plant Man, right?"
"Been a while since somebody's called me that," he replied, "I go by the name Taproot now."
"Whatever you call yourself," Abe stated as turned away from the villain, "you're still a lame ass."
Suddenly, dozens of ivy vines exploded from the floor beneath Airstrike, wrapping around him with the strength of steel cables. Jenkins' boot-jets flared to life, sending him into the air only a few feet, the vines holding strong despite the stress. "Ever seen a Venus Flytrap up close?" Taproot asked, and on command a large pod entered the room through the hole created by the vines. The pod opened, revealing what looked like a mouth lined with razor sharp teeth.
"Shiiiiiiiit!" Airstrike poured all of his strength into his struggle as the vines slowly pulled him closer to the plant's gaping maw. At the last moment, the flora gave up the fight, relaxing their grip enough for Abe to rip his way free. When he landed, several feet away, he saw the former Plant Man lying face down on the ground, the Avenger known as the Wasp buzzing around his unconscious body.
"Looks like my cue to get the fuck outta dodge," Jenkins commented to himself, wasting no time as he rocketed out of the hole blown through the ceiling.
Out of all the combatants present, only Iron Man noticed Airstrike's retreat, and he silently cursed the fact that he was unable to pursue. Using the split-second moment of distraction, Moonstone successfully landed a force blast to the armored one's faceplate, blinding him and effectively causing him to crash into the nearest wall.
"The almighty Avengers," Moonstone said with a smirk as she hovered over the grounded Iron Man, "humbled by a bunch of nobodies. You weren't there when the Masters of Evil took over your base, were you?"
Suddenly, Karla felt a sharp blow to the back of her helmet, the force sufficient enough to flip her head over heels in the air. When she landed, on her back, her eyes met with Captain America as he caught his returning shield. "I was there, Moonstone," Cap said, scowling as he spoke, "and I'll never forget."
Her senses rattled from the shield's contact with her helmet, Moonstone found herself unable to stay balanced, falling over each time she attempted to stand. "The Avengers are finishing off the rest of your cronies, Moonstone," the Captain stated, "it's over."
"Never!" Moonstone raised her hands, a flash of light signaling the release of her force beam. Captain America didn't even flinch as the blast rocketed toward him, eventually stopping just inches from his face. "Thanks, Justice," Cap said to the young man hovering above them, his telekinetic power protecting the team leader.
Without warning, every combatant in the room felt the tremor, knocking all but the airborne to the ground. The floor began to crack and split, as if an earthquake was hitting the building. "Volcana!" Moonstone shouted over the noise. "Is this your doing?"
The woman with the molten form nervously shook her head as she attempted to regain her footing. Finally, the floor heaved, giving way to a most unexpected sight. Giant fingers dug through the steel and concrete, followed immediately by an enormous arm. A cry of anger, or perhaps one of pain, reverberated throughout the installation as the giant man forced his way skyward, causing everyone to scatter out of his way.
"Oh, it's fuckin' on now," Blizzard stated as Erik Josten turned his gaze downward, taking the measure of the collected Avengers below him. The rest of the villains cheered as Josten threw a mighty smirk.
"Goliath's back, heroes," he said confidently, his voice booming throughout the room, "now what you gonna do?"
# # # # # # # # # #
"What the fuck happened here?" Blacklash asked as he made his way into the ravaged room that served as Justin Hammer's office. Hammer himself was sitting at his desk, enjoying a slow puff on an expensive cigar, looking as if he was oblivious to what was going on in his building.
"Hammer!" Mark shouted as he made his way through the room. "We need some fuckin' help downstairs, man!"
"Mr. Scarlotti," the billionaire said softly, pointing to the far corner of the room, "I think they might need your help."
Blacklash turned around, immediately finding the wounded and unconscious forms of his friends, Melissa and Fred. "What happened to them?" he asked as he quickly made his way over to them. "Hell, Fred's been shot!"
"Are you familiar with a person called the Scourge?" Hammer asked.
Mark's eyes narrowed. "Everybody's familiar with the Scourge."
"Well, that's your answer about what happened in here," the cigar smoker said, his expression grim, "and it might behoove you to know that the Scourge is currently making a bee-line toward the scene of your altercation with the Avengers."
"Oh...shit," was the only reply that Blacklash could give.
# # # # # # # # # #
The Scourge smiled as he observed the fierce battle before him, sizing up both the villainous Thunderbolts and the Avengers from his doorway vantage point. He realized, of course, that he could simply just stand aside and let the heroes defeat the villains for him. They would most assuredly go to jail, and there was really no doubt that the heroes would prevail.
But really, what's the fun in that?
The murderer waded into the battleground, at first ignored by the combatants. It was the Avenger, Firestar, that noticed him first, which was a pity. He had no desire to cause harm to the heroes, after all. They weren't guilty, simply misguided. He fired a few wide warning shots into the air, causing her to veer away, right into the arms of the colossal form of Goliath. Now there was a target.
"New player on the field!" a voice shouted from behind him, one just seething with pent-up rage and anger. Without even a backward glance, the Scourge fired several shots behind him, smiling as he heard the armor piercing rounds hit their target. He turned then, confident that his shots had hit their mark. Disappointingly, the villain named Splice was still alive, crawling on the floor toward his target despite the numerous gunshot wounds to his body.
"Tenacious, I'll give you that," Scourge stated as he fired several more rounds into Splice's face and back, stopping his forward movement. This action, to the killer's surprise, brought the fight to a screeching halt, each combatant looking on at the murder that had just occurred with open-mouthed astonishment.
"Cap!" the Wasp cried out, even though her voice could barely be heard at her diminutive insect size. "That's...is that who I think it is?"
"The Scourge." Captain America answered, hissing the name through gritted teeth.
"Avengers, would you be so kind as to turn around, or leave the room, or something?" the skull-faced murderer asked. "There's going to be quite a bit of bloodshed in approximately thirty seconds, and I wouldn't want to make you heroes queasy."
"Fuck that," Erik Josten said, his giant hand swooping down with incredible speed. Before the Scourge could react, he was caught in Goliath's grip, unable to move as the former villain raised him into the sky. "Say goodbye, sicko." Goliath threw the Scourge like a baseball, into the air and through the hole in the ceiling, his strength propelling him to incredible heights. Both Iron Man and Firestar shot into the sky after the ejected Scourge, but could only watch as he covered a distance of miles, disappearing from their line-of-sight.
"Now, we gonna finish this, Avengers?" Blizzard asked, suddenly confident in the assembled force that surrounded the heroes.
"Nobody's finishing anything," the voice of Justin Hammer stated as he slowly walked into the room, placing a hand on Donny's shoulder when he reached him. Mr. White walked with him, providing protection for any unwarranted attacks that might come his way, from either party of combatants. "You Avengers are trespassing," Hammer stated, directing the sentence at Captain America, "and I would appreciate your leaving, posthaste."
"We're here to apprehend Goliath," Iron Man said as he landed amongst the group of heroes, "and we're not leaving without him."
"I'm afraid you are. Mr. Josten has done nothing illegal, and as one of my employees he is guaranteed protection from outside harassment. That would be you."
"He went amok in the middle of New York City," the Captain began, but was silenced by the industrialist's production of a video tape.
"This tape is from one of the local New York television stations, and it shows that Erik was not of sound mind when he went on his unfortunate rampage. It also shows that the city has three of my other employees to thank for stopping his seizure before it took any more lives."
"Regardless," Cap argued, "we're still taking him in."
"Then where's your warrant?" Hammer asked with a wicked grin.
"Cap, wait," Iron Man said, whispering into his comrade's ear, "we may know we're right, but the public sees Hammer as a legit businessman. If he wanted to, he could probably sue us into oblivion. I know from personal experience, he's not one we can just butt heads with like this."
Captain America thought for a moment over what he'd been told. "Fine, you want to play it this way, then we can do that. We'll get our warrant, Hammer, and we'll be back. For you as well as for Goliath."
Hammer said nothing as the Avengers ascended through the hole in the roof, the non-flying members carried away by Justice's telekinesis. The remaining Thunderbolts crowded around their employer, all battle-weary and close to exhaustion. "Donny," White said, addressing the bruised and battered Blizzard, "Blacklash is in the boss' office, watching over Melissa and Fred. They were both wounded pretty badly."
"Oh shit, Missy!" Donny exclaimed as he broke away from the group, running down the hallway.
"Some trial by fire, eh Justin?" Moonstone asked as she crouched down, examining Splice's limp corpse.
"I thought you performed splendidly," Hammer replied. He turned toward the assembled collection of villains. Moonstone, Goliath, Volcana, Gladiator, and Taproot..."one half of my Thunderbolts. We'll give the others a little bit of time to adjust. Let them catch their breath a little. The complex was evacuated when the Avengers performed their little breaking-and-entering, and we should quickly do the same. Perhaps somewhere on the West Coast this time?"
# # # # # # # # # #
The house looked as if it'd been hit by a gamma bomb, broken wood and glass littering the area of impact. By an insane stroke of luck, the home had been abandoned only a week prior, meaning no innocent victims of the crash-landing that had just occurred. From the look of the destruction, one would assume that nothing could have survived the impact of the landing.
Slowly, a pile of the boards and brick began to stir, and a pair of hands emerged, digging through the rubble. The Scourge stood on shaky legs, but otherwise looked none the worse for wear. "Well, that was unexpected," he said as he brushed the dirt and dust from his black suit.
He immediately began to sift through the rubble, eventually finding his gun a few feet away, having miraculously held onto the weapon during his flight. Holstering the gun, he then dug through his pockets, searching for the item he'd won in trade for Justin Hammer's life. He pulled the small disc from his breast pocket, finding it to still be in good condition.
"You win some," he said as he studied the disc, a malicious grin twisting across his skull face, "you lose some..."
# # # # # # # # # #
NEXT ISSUE: It's been a mystery for months, but get ready for all of your questions to be answered in the next two issues of Thunderbolts! Who is the new Scourge? What happened on the Thunderbolts final mission? What's up with the two people claiming to be MACH-1? The pieces start falling into place in # 19, featuring the return to the book of an old friend, and the introduction of...the Masters of Evil!
# # # # # # # # # #
LIGHTNING STRIKES
Well, it's three months late, but Thunderbolts # 18 is finally here. One thing I wanted to make note of, which I forgot to do last issue, is when exactly this story takes place in reference to the Avengers. Continuity-wise, this arc takes place right between Avengers # 13 (Will Short's last issue) and # 14 (Brent Lambert's first issue).
Also, I want to make an apology. I had a boat-load of letters for Tbolts # 17, and I'd planned to answer every single one of them here in the lettercol. Unfortunately, my AOL connection decided to go belly-up on me, forcing me to re-install the program, meaning I lost all of your letters. So, I want to thank the following people for taking the time to write me about the previous issue (and if I forget to mention you here, I apologize in advance): Brent Lambert, Russ Anderson, Steve Crosby, Thomas Deja, and David Ingram. You all seriously rock.
Chris Munn
04/29/03
BIBLIOGRAPHY- Goliath was hospitalized at the end of Thunderbolts # 15, after being experimented on by Karl Malus.
- Hawkeye abandoned the Thunderbolts in Marvel Fanfare # 4.