"One thing you have to understand, Mr. Maddicks, is that there is a high...hrm, how should I put this?...casualty rate amongst our ranks. On any given day, one or more of us may come home in a body bag. I'm sure, of course, that this is something that a person in your line of work would be more than used to."
Simon Maddicks smirked. "Of course."
From behind her desk, Dr. Karla Sofen crossed her legs and leaned back in her chair, nodding her head in acknowledgement. "I'm going to be honest with you. It's actually quite refreshing to give an interview with a professional in this business, someone who knows how these things work. The last thing this corporation needs is a lunatic that will act without thinking."
"I agree completely."
"You should have seen the last applicant I had to turn away," she said with a sigh. "Have you ever met Cottonmouth?"
Maddicks hesitated for a moment as he attempted to recall the name. "No," he finally answered, "I don't believe I have. But then again, I've met many a fellow traveler in my years."
"Trust me, you'd remember him," she replied with a smirk of her own. "His mouth distends like a snake's, and he injects lethal venom into his victims with his bite. Did time with the Serpent Society…a total psychopath. Throughout the whole interview, he kept gnawing on this stick of wood that he'd brought with him."
"Heh, that's kinda funny," he said with a stifled laugh.
"You did time with the Brand Corporation before it diffused, am I correct?" she asked, picking up his resume from her desk.
"Yes, I did. I got only the highest recommendations from the former directors of Brand, as you can see by my references. ROXXON gave me top marks as well. With the mild exception of that unfortunate incident with the Modular Man, I can say that I've had satisfactory marks on every assignment I've been given."
"I see that," Dr. Sofen interrupted, placing her elbows on the desk as she rested her chin on the palms of her hands, "but upon your hiring by Mr. Hammer, all traces of your criminal past and identity will be erased from every mainframe on the planet. You will essentially be a blank slate, Mr. Maddicks, one in which we shall mold to our shaping. Do you have any concerns about this?"
"The only thing that concerns me," he replied with a grin, "are the massive paychecks you people will be signing over to me."
"Excellent," she commended while standing from her chair, her hand extending toward the interviewee, "we shall be in contact with you some time in the next several days, Simon. Officially, I can't say anything about your chances of being hired..."
"But unofficially...?"
"Unofficially?" Karla's grin grew wider. "Welcome to the Thunderbolts, Killer Shrike."
Simon Maddicks smirked. "Of course."
From behind her desk, Dr. Karla Sofen crossed her legs and leaned back in her chair, nodding her head in acknowledgement. "I'm going to be honest with you. It's actually quite refreshing to give an interview with a professional in this business, someone who knows how these things work. The last thing this corporation needs is a lunatic that will act without thinking."
"I agree completely."
"You should have seen the last applicant I had to turn away," she said with a sigh. "Have you ever met Cottonmouth?"
Maddicks hesitated for a moment as he attempted to recall the name. "No," he finally answered, "I don't believe I have. But then again, I've met many a fellow traveler in my years."
"Trust me, you'd remember him," she replied with a smirk of her own. "His mouth distends like a snake's, and he injects lethal venom into his victims with his bite. Did time with the Serpent Society…a total psychopath. Throughout the whole interview, he kept gnawing on this stick of wood that he'd brought with him."
"Heh, that's kinda funny," he said with a stifled laugh.
"You did time with the Brand Corporation before it diffused, am I correct?" she asked, picking up his resume from her desk.
"Yes, I did. I got only the highest recommendations from the former directors of Brand, as you can see by my references. ROXXON gave me top marks as well. With the mild exception of that unfortunate incident with the Modular Man, I can say that I've had satisfactory marks on every assignment I've been given."
"I see that," Dr. Sofen interrupted, placing her elbows on the desk as she rested her chin on the palms of her hands, "but upon your hiring by Mr. Hammer, all traces of your criminal past and identity will be erased from every mainframe on the planet. You will essentially be a blank slate, Mr. Maddicks, one in which we shall mold to our shaping. Do you have any concerns about this?"
"The only thing that concerns me," he replied with a grin, "are the massive paychecks you people will be signing over to me."
"Excellent," she commended while standing from her chair, her hand extending toward the interviewee, "we shall be in contact with you some time in the next several days, Simon. Officially, I can't say anything about your chances of being hired..."
"But unofficially...?"
"Unofficially?" Karla's grin grew wider. "Welcome to the Thunderbolts, Killer Shrike."
Back to GatefoldIssue #21 by Chris Munn
THE WAR MACHINE - A PRELUDE TO "INDUSTRIAL STRENGTH" |
Her vocal chords tensed, and, accompanied by a silent prayer, she opened her mouth. Tears of joy began to trickle down her cheek as the glorious sound of her voice emanated from her throat for the first time in what had seemed to be an eternity. It started as a simple pronunciation of soft words.
"It...God, it feels so strange."
Three figures stood at the end of the building's rooftop, all waiting patiently for her to give the signal. Melvin Potter, the saw-blades affixed to his wrists already in their standard spinning motion, held no emotion in his body language, the features of his face hidden behind the black helmet that covered his entire head. Fred Myers, in a complete contradiction to Potter, stood relaxed, with a cigarette balanced between fingers and arms crossed in a show of total boredom.
And then there was Donnie Gill, whose only thoughts were on the well being of the young woman across the roof. The smile on her face was, at the very least, a reassuring sign. "Well...are you ready?" he asked, a bit of apprehension in his voice.
The smile on her face grew wider...and then Melissa Gold screamed. The sonic force of her voice, amplified by her brand-new bionic vocal chords, hit the three men like a physical wall, knocking Donnie and Fred to the ground. Only the Gladiator stayed his ground, slowly advancing forward despite the vocal onslaught emitted from Missy's throat.
Melissa smiled as the Gladiator approached, his twin blades blurred from their furious motion. She moved nary an inch as he closed the distance between them, his arms raising in anticipation of cutting her down. Her vocal chords tightened again, and the scream intensified, the volume of her voice causing trickles of blood to fall from Potter's ears despite the presence of his steel helm. He stayed his course, despite his increasing deafness, and Songbird's eyes began to swim with worry. Before she could react, he had lunged toward her, hand outstretched ominously.
Potter grabbed frantically at the woman's throat, fingers closing around it in a desperate attempt to stop her vocal onslaught. Melissa's voice was silenced, as much by her own will as that of the Gladiator's, but still he pressed on, raising her into the air by the grasp he retained across her neck. Growling slightly, his second arm was brought back, as if he were going to strike…
"Stop that!" a voice shouted from above, accentuated by a roaring of jet engines as the armored individual sat down on the rooftop. Abe Jenkins, MACH-1, stared at the Gladiator, his weapons primed and ready for any act of aggression. Melvin hesitated for a moment, his eyes flutter back and forth between the man in front of him and the woman at his mercy.
"I'm sorry," he said, dropping Melissa to the ground, "I don't know…fuck, I'm sorry." Potter then turned and began to walk briskly toward the rooftop door, while Jenkins kneeled down to help Songbird to her feet. Watching Gladiator enter the building, Boomerang and Blizzard slowly made their way to their friends.
"Missy, Jesus shit!" Donnie exclaimed, reaching out toward the woman he loved. To his surprise, the shocked and scared Melissa turned away from him, opting instead for comfort in the arms of Abe.
"Potter's got a lotta rage bottled up in 'im," Fred remarked, "anybody care to take bets on which of us he kills first?"
# # # # # # # # # #
"I ain't gonna do it. No, no fucking way, man." Nelson Gruber was sweating profusely under the solitary light that hung above his head, the small cell-like room giving his mild claustrophobia a run for its money. A halo of smoke surrounded his face as he removed his wire-rimmed glasses to rub his eyes, careful not to stab himself with his own cigarette. "Do your own god damn dirty work, 'cause there's no way you can make me touch that fucking thing."
"Look, jack-off," Mark Scarlotti, who stood menacingly on the opposite side of the table, said with a growl, "we contracted you for this reason. You're not gonna chicken shit your way out at the last minute."
"Whoa, no, fuck you, man," Gruber replied, glasses back on face, his cigarette pointed directly at Scarlotti as he spoke, "you didn't specify what you needed when I agreed to this. Had I know you wanted me to read from that book, out of every other fucking book in the world, I'd have told you to go fuck your grandma."
Mark sighed as Gruber accentuated his statement with an upturned middle finger. The former mob enforcer nodded his head slightly toward the person standing directly behind Nelson, a person that only a moment before had not been in the room. Before he could fully turn around, Gruber had a hand on the back of his neck, and with a bone-rattling force found his face colliding with the steel table in front of him. "Nelson," Mark said as he lit a cigarette of his own, "meet Quantum, the newest addition to our little group. Quantum, say hello." The large man in the orange and blue costume said nothing, his reply coming in an extra bit of force applied on the back of Gruber's head.
"Quantum there is an alien," Mark continued, "one that gets his rocks off by torturing poor dipshit psychology students. If you don't cooperate, I'm afraid he'll have to start breaking your fingers."
"Do you have any fucking idea what the book is?" Gruber asked frantically, struggling with what little might he could muster, only to find that Quantum was much, much stronger than he.
"I know exactly what this book contains," the voice of a fourth person came from the room's entrance. Justin Hammer strode into the cell, gesturing for Scarlotti and Quantum to let up on their persuasion. Nelson rubbed the back of his neck as he raised his head, all the while attempting to avoid eye contact with the millionaire.
"I can't do it, Mr. Hammer," he pleaded, "I just can't."
"As the Bookworm," Hammer began, taking a seat opposite the young man, "you possess the power to bring the printed word to life, just by reading it aloud. I was under the impression that you could handle any passage I requested you to read."
"But this...fuck...how can you ask me to do this?"
"You are being paid an obscene amount of money for this, Mr. Gruber," Hammer rebutted, "and I expect my money's worth. I went through Hell to acquire this page of literature, and I will not be denied."
With that said, Hammer stood from his chair and made his way toward the door, motioning for Scarlotti to follow. Mark looked back into the room, seeing that Quantum had already taken his leave by whatever method he had used to enter the room earlier. The door closed behind them, leaving Nelson alone with his thoughts.
"The Darkhold," Gruber muttered nervously to himself, "he wants me to read the Darkhold."
# # # # # # # # # #
"Did you see that shit?" Donnie yelled as he entered one of the building's many relaxation rooms. "She went to him instead of me! That fucking bitch!"
"Chill out, mate," Fred advised as he flopped down on the leather couch in the middle of the room, "don't think too much of it. She's dizzy for you, you know that."
"I'm second best," Blizzard replied, taking a seat next to his partner, "and Jenkins was there first. How am I supposed to compare to that guy?"
"That's a good question, and I wish I could help you with it," Fred replied, standing from the couch, "but I got a little extracurricular activity to partake in. You game? I could use a good wing man."
"No thanks," Donnie answered with a sigh of exasperation, "I got my own way of taking my mind of everything."
"Suit yourself, buddy," Boomerang said, knowing exactly what his friend meant...and was saddened by the thought.
# # # # # # # # # #
"I keep telling myself over and over again," Gladiator said to the two people walking with him, "that I'm doing this because I don't have any other choice. This is good money. I need good money..."
"I sense a 'but' coming," the woman beside him, Marsha Rosenberg, said with a slight smile, her wavy black hair hanging down in wisps across her face. A few steps behind them, the trenchcoated Samuel Smithers stalked silently, his features covered by an upturned collar and a wide-brimmed fedora hat.
"I almost killed that Songbird girl," Melvin continued, removing his helmet as the three entered the elevator, "all because I couldn't get a grip on my anger. I lost it, plain and simple. I don't think I can cut it in this business anymore, Marsha. I sell costumes for a living now...this isn't me anymore."
Pushing the button for the first floor, the woman also known as Volcana sighed slightly. "All three of us were down on our luck when Moonstone contacted us, Mel. Broke, unemployed, clinging to our disastrous lives with all our strength. I'm not really enjoying myself here either, but we can't begrudge Dr. Sofen for that. We didn't have to take her up on her offer, you know."
"I don't see the need for three retired criminals," Potter commented, "especially with the collection of freaks Hammer's gathered over the last month. I'm waiting for the Unicorn or the Radioactive Man to show up any minute."
"I had a discussion with Mr. Hammer's palm tree," Smithers said, breaking his silence and causing the others to jump slightly at the unexpected words, "you know, the one in his office. It told me that Justin's running scared from somebody called the Scourge, and he's gathering us all up to be his bodyguards in case he comes back. Scourge apparently shot and killed the Controller in Hammer's old office, back in New York."
Marsha and Melvin exchanged confused glances.
"You had a chat with a tree?" Volcana asked, easing the uncomfortable silence.
"Don't judge me," was the former Plant-Man's only reply.
# # # # # # # # # #
"What about this guy?" Dr. Sofen asked, holding up a photograph to the man stretched out in one of her office chairs.
"The Asbestos Man?" Mr. White answered with a look of disbelief. "Who's next, the bloody Living Eraser?"
"Funny," Karla said mockingly, tossing the photo back onto her desk.
"Or what about the Locust?" White continued, smiling at his own question. "I'm sure he's available."
"I've narrowed down my picks to a few candidates," she began, ignoring the man's sarcasm, "all of which I think would be a boon to the organization." She held up the first picture.
"Killer Shrike," White commented, "gets my vote."
She held up the second picture.
"Goldbug? Sure, why not?"
She held up the third picture.
"Ah, the Constrictor…now there's a professional!"
Finally, she held up the fourth picture.
"Eh, don't know this one," White admitted, staring closely at the photograph of a dark haired young woman, "what's her business name?"
"Black Mamba," Moonstone answered, "another former Serpent Society refugee. These guys are turning up in droves all over the place now that their organization's finally dead."
"She's a looker," White said as he reclined back in his chair, lighting up a cigarette as he spoke, "so she gets my vote."
"Glad to see you're so discriminatory in choosing the people we'll be asking to watch our backs," Sofen stated coldly, "but I think she'd work well. So your vote counts…this time."
"Wouldn't have it any other way, darling," White replied, his face smeared with the Devil's grin.
A knock then sounded on the office door, stirring the two from their discussion. Moonstone remained silent as she walked from desk to door, Mr. White still slouching in the leather chair. "Whoever this is," she began as she opened the door, "this better be..."
Standing in the hall were the three people she'd avoided since her arrival. Melissa Gold, Abe Jenkins, and Erik Josten all seemed to wear the same smirk across their faces. "We need to talk," was all Melissa said as she pushed herself into the office.
# # # # # # # # # #
"You are completely sealed into that room," Blacklash said into the microphone, his eyes locked on the shaking Nelson Gruber through the one-way mirror, "and we're not letting you out until you pick up that piece of paper on the table and start reciting."
"Lick my ass and die!" the Bookworm shouted, backing into the far corner of the room, as far away from the page of the Darkhold as he could get. "That thing's gonna eat my soul!"
Scarlotti sighed and craned his neck to the side, locking into view the obviously impatient Justin Hammer standing in the back of the room. Hammer nodded slowly, prompting Mark to return to the microphone. "Look, man...you got 30 seconds to do what I ask, or that sealed room is gonna start filling up with anthrax. Make your choice."
"No way, man, you fuckin' need me," Nelson shouted as he fell into the fetal position on the floor, "you won't kill me. You need me, dammit!"
"Well, if you're not gonna read that page," Mark said sternly, "then we don't much use for keeping you around now, do we?"
Gruber realized the situation he was in at that very moment, and the muscles that held his bladder in check decided to give up their fight. After a moment of tears and urine, the Bookworm stood and slowly walked to the table. "What does the page say?" he asked nervously.
"It's a resurrection spell," Hammer's voice announced over the room's loudspeaker, "one in which gives the user the ability to fetch a damned soul from the pits of Hell. Upon evoking the spell, the person is forced to bargain with the Darkhold's demonic thrall in order to gain passage…with your power, I'm hoping to bypass the middle man."
With labored breathing and a heart rate that he felt would make his chest explode, Nelson picked up the tattered parchment. "How do I know I'm calling up the right person?"
"The name's been written on the bottom of the page."
Steeling his nerves, the Bookworm adjusted his glasses as he stared at the paper. Suddenly, his tongue began moving of its own volition, the ancient and evil language of Chthon spewing forth from his throat despite his desire to stop speaking. "…enu shub am gig absu kish egigga gar shag da sisie amarada ya dingir…ud kalama siniku dinger ninab…guyu nexrraniku ga ya shu shagmuku tu…enamorath emmoreth ba'al set elianath!"
As the final uttering of the person's name passed Gruber's lips, the room was engulfed with a blinding flash of crimson light, causing Hammer and Scarlotti, in the observation room, to recoil back from its intensity. After a few moments of stunned uncertainty, the two men regained their vision, only to find that all light in the sealed room had been extinguished, Nelson Gruber lost in a sea of pitch black.
Finally, a spark of light came from directly in front of the mirror. Blacklash smirked when he saw the pale glow from the cigarette lighter illuminating the Bookworm's terrified face. "Guys? Guys, I can't see shit in here. Did it work? Did he come back? I don't wanna be in here no more…"
"A moment, Mr. Gruber," Hammer said into the microphone, his eyes trying to penetrate the darkness behind the young man. Suddenly, Nelson lunged forward, a shrill shriek ripping itself from his throat. Blacklash and his employer could only watch as blood erupted from their agent's chest, followed by four needle-sharp blades. After a moment of screaming agony, a more gruesome fate befell the man, as his body burst into flames upon the bladed instrument of death. His screams died away almost immediately after, the youth falling to the ground as the weapon of his demise slid out of his body.
"Oh…oh my god," Scarlotti muttered as he felt an overwhelming sensation of paralyzing fear wash over him. Unable to stand his ground, he began to back away from the hellish visual on the other side of the glass. Justin Hammer remained confident, a smile of pure malice and wickedness on his face, as he looked over the creature in the containment room. Bathed in orange and red colors from the fiery corpse below him, the man's face was completely covered by a crudely fashioned mask, one that appeared to be fashioned from a burlap sack. Strands of straw and hay stuck out from every seam in his jagged stitched costume, and the pitchfork gripped in his hands ran with a fresh coating of blood.
"That can't be…" Blacklash attempted to say.
"Oh, but it is," Hammer replied with a sustained chuckle of laughter, "Ebenezer Laughton. The Scarecrow."
His weapon raised, the Scarecrow began to tap against the glass with the points of his pitchfork. "I know you're in there," he said, his voice a raspy hiss, "I can feel your fear calling out to me. My trusty rusty needs to get wet again."
"Silence, Ebenezer," Hammer said into the microphone, causing the escapee from Hell to turn his head left to right in an effort to pinpoint the location of the voice, "and listen to me. I freed you from Hell, and with the power of the Darkhold you are now bound to my service. Do this one task for me, and I will release you from this contract and you may do as you wish."
"I need you to kill somebody for me, my fearsome little Scarecrow," Hammer concluded, the serial killer's eyes widening at the words coming over the speaker, "his name is Norbert Eversol..."
# # # # # # # # # #
Mr. White shuffled a bit in his seat as Karla's three guests entered the office. Seeing that Josten was amongst the group, the wraith-like villain stood from his chair. "I believe I'll depart now, my dear Moonstone. Have fun with your callers."
As he passed by the group, Erik held out his hand to stop the exiting White. "You can't keep avoiding me. I know it was you that saved me, White. What did you do to me?"
"That's for me to know," he answered with a smile, "and for you to figure out on your own." Before Josten could reply, the other man was gone, fallen through the floor like a ghost.
"Can I help you three with something?" Sofen asked as she returned to her desk, kicking her feet up on the table as she reclined back in her chair.
"Yeah, you can," Abe began, "starting with explaining to us just what the fuck you were thinking back in the V-Battalion base a couple of months back."
"I don't follow," Moonstone replied after a moment of confused hesitation.
"You sold us out you manipulative bitch!" Melissa yelled, pushing Abe out of the way so she could come face to face with the psychiatrist. "You told Henry Gyrich where to find us and then you abandoned us!"
Karla chuckled slightly once Melissa was finished, her hands raising up to put her long, blonde hair into a ponytail. "You really think I turned you in?"
"Pretty obvious to us," Erik commented.
"Dr. Sofen didn't turn you in," a voice came from behind them, causing all four people to jump in surprise. Justin Hammer stood in the doorway, his bodyguard Quantum standing directly to his left. The older gentleman tapped his cane lightly on the floor, a stern look upon his face as his eyes fluttered to the three accusers standing in the office.
"You don't know that, Hammer," Jenkins spat, "you weren't there. We know what we saw."
"She didn't turn you in," the industrialist reiterated, "because…I did."
All four Thunderbolts were shocked into silence.
"Don't look so surprised," Hammer continued, "did you think it mere chance that you all ended up here, working for me? I need you all, but more importantly, I needed what you represent. The Thunderbolts name, while tarnished by the ingeniously diabolical plans of Baron Zemo, is still one that comes somewhat fondly regarded amongst the throngs of heroes that populate this country. Your efforts at redemption have given me the edge I needed."
"To do what, exactly?" Melissa asked.
"You'll find out soon enough, Ms. Gold," he answered with a slight smile, "but let me leave you with this. I am an industrialist, after all...and nothing powers the machine of industry like the engine of war..."
An uneasy silence fell over the room's occupants, and when no comments were made Hammer nodded his head pleasurably. At that moment, the phone on Moonstone's desk began to ring, shocking them all back to their senses. "Dr. Sofen," she answered after picking up the reciever, "yes. Yes, I'll let him know." After hanging up the phone, she took a long, uneasy glance at her employer. "That was security, Justin. The press are here, as per your request."
Hammer showed no emotion as he and his bodyguard turned back toward the door. "Excellent," he said over his shoulder, "pay close attention to the television, and if a Mr. Unuscione calls, tell him that everything is going according to plan."
# # # # # # # # # #
"This is Trish Tilby, reporting live for CNBC on location at the San Francisco headquarters of multi-million dollar industrialist Justin Hammer. Early this morning, all major television and newspaper agents were contacted by representatives of Mr. Hammer, inviting us to come televise an announcement that will, and I quote, 'change the world'. Now that he has made his way to the podium that's been erected for him to speak, we shall be running this supposed revelation live around the world."
"Thank you for coming, my friends in the American and world news affiliates. You've all come here today, by my invitation, to bear witness to the unveiling of a grand design, one in which will change the destiny of foreign affairs from this moment on.
"Our country, indeed this very world, seems of late to be hanging on the precipice of collapse, controlled and affected by the power of a mere handful of individuals. Those to whom I'm referring, the so-called 'super-villains' of the world, I have an ultimatum in which to set forth. No longer will the free and private citizens of this country be held under the dominance of fear and terror...no longer will we sit back and watch as the safety of our entire way of existence is decided in battles between you and the few that dare to go to combat against you...no longer will we remain enfeebled by the chance of defeat, by the common thought that you hold power over us. How much longer can we take the chance that our heroes will continue to save us, day in and day out, from the Victor Von Dooms of the world?
"I say not one...moment...more.
"Using the resources at my disposal and discretion, Hammer Industries has brought together a group of employees that will be seeking out these despots at their homes, striking them before they can annihilate us completely. These warriors I have christened the Thunderbolts, and they will be deployed immediately to the largest crisis point on the globe. We will do what the United Nations refuses to do. We will do what the Avengers, the Fantastic Four, the X-Men, and all other 'heroes' are unwilling or unable to attempt.
"Magneto, all of Genosha, prepare yourselves. We are coming for you...and we will not rest until your mutant tyranny over my people has ended."
# # # # # # # # # #
NEXT ISSUE: War has been declared! The Thunderbolts storm Genosha with only one goal: the assassination of Magneto! Don't miss part one of the crossover with Fallen Angels, "Industrial Strength"!
# # # # # # # # # #
LIGHTNING STRIKES
So, yeah, it's been a little while since this series had a new issue...but look! Here it is! So there.
First letter this month comes from lettercol regular (aw, you guys know him!) Steve Crosby!
Thanks Chris. I liked the story, especially the background stuff on the new Masters of Evil. Nice intro to their powers and such (I loved Viral's powers. Heh, you watch much Simpsons?). And shit, with your handling of the Vault, you ever think of trying to prop the MV1 series? Still, what's the deal with two super-villains being able to hold off the entire security force? No wonder there are so many breakouts.
Ha ha ha, why yes, Mr. Crosby...I DO watch a lot of Simpsons!
As for Thunderbolts, you're definately writing it in a great direction: that of criminal and government conspiracy, getting into the heads of the villians and the officials trying to take advantage of them. It's certainly rife with the intrigue and violence that will keep me coming back for more. Even with all the answers you jammed into this issue, there are so many more questions still left unanswered.
And I'll look forward to discovering more questions next issue.
Glad to see you're enjoying my little romp through the criminal underworld, and as you've seen there's been even MORE answers revealed this issue...and, naturally, just as many new questions raised. Thanks Cros, you da bestest.
Next up are letters from another Lightning Strikes regular (and fellow M2K writer), David Ingram, and his thoughts on both # 19 and 20!
Thunderbolts 19.
The Good= Answers, yay! I loved the back drop of 'The Bar with no Name', a place that can never be used enough. Jolt telling the last tale of the Thunderbolts is fitting considering her place in Thunderbolts lore. Scourge's mass murder was just plain disturbing, and rocked. The Master's of Evil intro was odd and weird, but it felt like it was meant to be. So, Moonstone betrayed the Thunderbolts? Somehow I doubt it will be that easy, but I like it.
As you've discovered, the betrayal of the Tbolts wasn't quite as simple as it seemed, heheh. And yeah, using Jolt one last time felt nice, especially since it really was the LAST time, lol.
The Bad=Really, the only bad stuff is fanboyish of me. I didn't like the deaths of Electro, Whirlwind and Avalanche, but hey. Looks like Jolt is on her way out, which is a shame. I like the character, but at least her death will have an impact
Yeah, I know...Exner yelled at me for killing Whirlwind and Electro as well.
Thunderbolts 20
The Good= More answers, yay! I loved seeing the Master's in action, and the Scourge thing resolved. So, Mach 1 is an L.M.D? Interesting. And Scourge...I have to say, what happened when I learned who Scourge was rarely ever happens. I was completely and utterly blown away. I never saw it coming, and never would have. Techno as Scourge? Brillant. And Gyrich an L.M.D too? Makes sense. how did they copy Abe's brain, though? You'd think he'd notice whatever process was used. Jolt's death, as intended no doubt, was sickening. I really hope the Ladykiller does a painful death before this is all over.
Life Model Decoys...I had hoped people would think of that as a cop-out for those plots, but seriously, it really IS what's been planned since the beginning, lol. Honest! And do you really think Ladykiller's gonna die? I mean, this IS a book about super-villains, after all...the bad guys are supposed to get away in the end!
The Bad= Well, I'm a little torn. L.M.D's seem kinda easy, but anything else would seem out of place. Oh, well. Keep up the fine work!
Thanks a lot, David! Come back next issue for some ass-stompin, blood-in-the-urine action!
Chris Munn
10/16/03
BIBLIOGRAPHY
- Bookworm made his first and only appearance in Sleepwalker # 4.
- The Scarecrow died and became a servant of Blackheart in Ghost Riders: Crossroads. He was last seen trapped in Hell in Ghost Rider # 86.
- The attempted apprehension of the Thunderbolts by Henry Gyrich happened between Thunderbolts # 12 and Thunderbolts # 13.
"It...God, it feels so strange."
Three figures stood at the end of the building's rooftop, all waiting patiently for her to give the signal. Melvin Potter, the saw-blades affixed to his wrists already in their standard spinning motion, held no emotion in his body language, the features of his face hidden behind the black helmet that covered his entire head. Fred Myers, in a complete contradiction to Potter, stood relaxed, with a cigarette balanced between fingers and arms crossed in a show of total boredom.
And then there was Donnie Gill, whose only thoughts were on the well being of the young woman across the roof. The smile on her face was, at the very least, a reassuring sign. "Well...are you ready?" he asked, a bit of apprehension in his voice.
The smile on her face grew wider...and then Melissa Gold screamed. The sonic force of her voice, amplified by her brand-new bionic vocal chords, hit the three men like a physical wall, knocking Donnie and Fred to the ground. Only the Gladiator stayed his ground, slowly advancing forward despite the vocal onslaught emitted from Missy's throat.
Melissa smiled as the Gladiator approached, his twin blades blurred from their furious motion. She moved nary an inch as he closed the distance between them, his arms raising in anticipation of cutting her down. Her vocal chords tightened again, and the scream intensified, the volume of her voice causing trickles of blood to fall from Potter's ears despite the presence of his steel helm. He stayed his course, despite his increasing deafness, and Songbird's eyes began to swim with worry. Before she could react, he had lunged toward her, hand outstretched ominously.
Potter grabbed frantically at the woman's throat, fingers closing around it in a desperate attempt to stop her vocal onslaught. Melissa's voice was silenced, as much by her own will as that of the Gladiator's, but still he pressed on, raising her into the air by the grasp he retained across her neck. Growling slightly, his second arm was brought back, as if he were going to strike…
"Stop that!" a voice shouted from above, accentuated by a roaring of jet engines as the armored individual sat down on the rooftop. Abe Jenkins, MACH-1, stared at the Gladiator, his weapons primed and ready for any act of aggression. Melvin hesitated for a moment, his eyes flutter back and forth between the man in front of him and the woman at his mercy.
"I'm sorry," he said, dropping Melissa to the ground, "I don't know…fuck, I'm sorry." Potter then turned and began to walk briskly toward the rooftop door, while Jenkins kneeled down to help Songbird to her feet. Watching Gladiator enter the building, Boomerang and Blizzard slowly made their way to their friends.
"Missy, Jesus shit!" Donnie exclaimed, reaching out toward the woman he loved. To his surprise, the shocked and scared Melissa turned away from him, opting instead for comfort in the arms of Abe.
"Potter's got a lotta rage bottled up in 'im," Fred remarked, "anybody care to take bets on which of us he kills first?"
# # # # # # # # # #
"I ain't gonna do it. No, no fucking way, man." Nelson Gruber was sweating profusely under the solitary light that hung above his head, the small cell-like room giving his mild claustrophobia a run for its money. A halo of smoke surrounded his face as he removed his wire-rimmed glasses to rub his eyes, careful not to stab himself with his own cigarette. "Do your own god damn dirty work, 'cause there's no way you can make me touch that fucking thing."
"Look, jack-off," Mark Scarlotti, who stood menacingly on the opposite side of the table, said with a growl, "we contracted you for this reason. You're not gonna chicken shit your way out at the last minute."
"Whoa, no, fuck you, man," Gruber replied, glasses back on face, his cigarette pointed directly at Scarlotti as he spoke, "you didn't specify what you needed when I agreed to this. Had I know you wanted me to read from that book, out of every other fucking book in the world, I'd have told you to go fuck your grandma."
Mark sighed as Gruber accentuated his statement with an upturned middle finger. The former mob enforcer nodded his head slightly toward the person standing directly behind Nelson, a person that only a moment before had not been in the room. Before he could fully turn around, Gruber had a hand on the back of his neck, and with a bone-rattling force found his face colliding with the steel table in front of him. "Nelson," Mark said as he lit a cigarette of his own, "meet Quantum, the newest addition to our little group. Quantum, say hello." The large man in the orange and blue costume said nothing, his reply coming in an extra bit of force applied on the back of Gruber's head.
"Quantum there is an alien," Mark continued, "one that gets his rocks off by torturing poor dipshit psychology students. If you don't cooperate, I'm afraid he'll have to start breaking your fingers."
"Do you have any fucking idea what the book is?" Gruber asked frantically, struggling with what little might he could muster, only to find that Quantum was much, much stronger than he.
"I know exactly what this book contains," the voice of a fourth person came from the room's entrance. Justin Hammer strode into the cell, gesturing for Scarlotti and Quantum to let up on their persuasion. Nelson rubbed the back of his neck as he raised his head, all the while attempting to avoid eye contact with the millionaire.
"I can't do it, Mr. Hammer," he pleaded, "I just can't."
"As the Bookworm," Hammer began, taking a seat opposite the young man, "you possess the power to bring the printed word to life, just by reading it aloud. I was under the impression that you could handle any passage I requested you to read."
"But this...fuck...how can you ask me to do this?"
"You are being paid an obscene amount of money for this, Mr. Gruber," Hammer rebutted, "and I expect my money's worth. I went through Hell to acquire this page of literature, and I will not be denied."
With that said, Hammer stood from his chair and made his way toward the door, motioning for Scarlotti to follow. Mark looked back into the room, seeing that Quantum had already taken his leave by whatever method he had used to enter the room earlier. The door closed behind them, leaving Nelson alone with his thoughts.
"The Darkhold," Gruber muttered nervously to himself, "he wants me to read the Darkhold."
# # # # # # # # # #
"Did you see that shit?" Donnie yelled as he entered one of the building's many relaxation rooms. "She went to him instead of me! That fucking bitch!"
"Chill out, mate," Fred advised as he flopped down on the leather couch in the middle of the room, "don't think too much of it. She's dizzy for you, you know that."
"I'm second best," Blizzard replied, taking a seat next to his partner, "and Jenkins was there first. How am I supposed to compare to that guy?"
"That's a good question, and I wish I could help you with it," Fred replied, standing from the couch, "but I got a little extracurricular activity to partake in. You game? I could use a good wing man."
"No thanks," Donnie answered with a sigh of exasperation, "I got my own way of taking my mind of everything."
"Suit yourself, buddy," Boomerang said, knowing exactly what his friend meant...and was saddened by the thought.
# # # # # # # # # #
"I keep telling myself over and over again," Gladiator said to the two people walking with him, "that I'm doing this because I don't have any other choice. This is good money. I need good money..."
"I sense a 'but' coming," the woman beside him, Marsha Rosenberg, said with a slight smile, her wavy black hair hanging down in wisps across her face. A few steps behind them, the trenchcoated Samuel Smithers stalked silently, his features covered by an upturned collar and a wide-brimmed fedora hat.
"I almost killed that Songbird girl," Melvin continued, removing his helmet as the three entered the elevator, "all because I couldn't get a grip on my anger. I lost it, plain and simple. I don't think I can cut it in this business anymore, Marsha. I sell costumes for a living now...this isn't me anymore."
Pushing the button for the first floor, the woman also known as Volcana sighed slightly. "All three of us were down on our luck when Moonstone contacted us, Mel. Broke, unemployed, clinging to our disastrous lives with all our strength. I'm not really enjoying myself here either, but we can't begrudge Dr. Sofen for that. We didn't have to take her up on her offer, you know."
"I don't see the need for three retired criminals," Potter commented, "especially with the collection of freaks Hammer's gathered over the last month. I'm waiting for the Unicorn or the Radioactive Man to show up any minute."
"I had a discussion with Mr. Hammer's palm tree," Smithers said, breaking his silence and causing the others to jump slightly at the unexpected words, "you know, the one in his office. It told me that Justin's running scared from somebody called the Scourge, and he's gathering us all up to be his bodyguards in case he comes back. Scourge apparently shot and killed the Controller in Hammer's old office, back in New York."
Marsha and Melvin exchanged confused glances.
"You had a chat with a tree?" Volcana asked, easing the uncomfortable silence.
"Don't judge me," was the former Plant-Man's only reply.
# # # # # # # # # #
"What about this guy?" Dr. Sofen asked, holding up a photograph to the man stretched out in one of her office chairs.
"The Asbestos Man?" Mr. White answered with a look of disbelief. "Who's next, the bloody Living Eraser?"
"Funny," Karla said mockingly, tossing the photo back onto her desk.
"Or what about the Locust?" White continued, smiling at his own question. "I'm sure he's available."
"I've narrowed down my picks to a few candidates," she began, ignoring the man's sarcasm, "all of which I think would be a boon to the organization." She held up the first picture.
"Killer Shrike," White commented, "gets my vote."
She held up the second picture.
"Goldbug? Sure, why not?"
She held up the third picture.
"Ah, the Constrictor…now there's a professional!"
Finally, she held up the fourth picture.
"Eh, don't know this one," White admitted, staring closely at the photograph of a dark haired young woman, "what's her business name?"
"Black Mamba," Moonstone answered, "another former Serpent Society refugee. These guys are turning up in droves all over the place now that their organization's finally dead."
"She's a looker," White said as he reclined back in his chair, lighting up a cigarette as he spoke, "so she gets my vote."
"Glad to see you're so discriminatory in choosing the people we'll be asking to watch our backs," Sofen stated coldly, "but I think she'd work well. So your vote counts…this time."
"Wouldn't have it any other way, darling," White replied, his face smeared with the Devil's grin.
A knock then sounded on the office door, stirring the two from their discussion. Moonstone remained silent as she walked from desk to door, Mr. White still slouching in the leather chair. "Whoever this is," she began as she opened the door, "this better be..."
Standing in the hall were the three people she'd avoided since her arrival. Melissa Gold, Abe Jenkins, and Erik Josten all seemed to wear the same smirk across their faces. "We need to talk," was all Melissa said as she pushed herself into the office.
# # # # # # # # # #
"You are completely sealed into that room," Blacklash said into the microphone, his eyes locked on the shaking Nelson Gruber through the one-way mirror, "and we're not letting you out until you pick up that piece of paper on the table and start reciting."
"Lick my ass and die!" the Bookworm shouted, backing into the far corner of the room, as far away from the page of the Darkhold as he could get. "That thing's gonna eat my soul!"
Scarlotti sighed and craned his neck to the side, locking into view the obviously impatient Justin Hammer standing in the back of the room. Hammer nodded slowly, prompting Mark to return to the microphone. "Look, man...you got 30 seconds to do what I ask, or that sealed room is gonna start filling up with anthrax. Make your choice."
"No way, man, you fuckin' need me," Nelson shouted as he fell into the fetal position on the floor, "you won't kill me. You need me, dammit!"
"Well, if you're not gonna read that page," Mark said sternly, "then we don't much use for keeping you around now, do we?"
Gruber realized the situation he was in at that very moment, and the muscles that held his bladder in check decided to give up their fight. After a moment of tears and urine, the Bookworm stood and slowly walked to the table. "What does the page say?" he asked nervously.
"It's a resurrection spell," Hammer's voice announced over the room's loudspeaker, "one in which gives the user the ability to fetch a damned soul from the pits of Hell. Upon evoking the spell, the person is forced to bargain with the Darkhold's demonic thrall in order to gain passage…with your power, I'm hoping to bypass the middle man."
With labored breathing and a heart rate that he felt would make his chest explode, Nelson picked up the tattered parchment. "How do I know I'm calling up the right person?"
"The name's been written on the bottom of the page."
Steeling his nerves, the Bookworm adjusted his glasses as he stared at the paper. Suddenly, his tongue began moving of its own volition, the ancient and evil language of Chthon spewing forth from his throat despite his desire to stop speaking. "…enu shub am gig absu kish egigga gar shag da sisie amarada ya dingir…ud kalama siniku dinger ninab…guyu nexrraniku ga ya shu shagmuku tu…enamorath emmoreth ba'al set elianath!"
As the final uttering of the person's name passed Gruber's lips, the room was engulfed with a blinding flash of crimson light, causing Hammer and Scarlotti, in the observation room, to recoil back from its intensity. After a few moments of stunned uncertainty, the two men regained their vision, only to find that all light in the sealed room had been extinguished, Nelson Gruber lost in a sea of pitch black.
Finally, a spark of light came from directly in front of the mirror. Blacklash smirked when he saw the pale glow from the cigarette lighter illuminating the Bookworm's terrified face. "Guys? Guys, I can't see shit in here. Did it work? Did he come back? I don't wanna be in here no more…"
"A moment, Mr. Gruber," Hammer said into the microphone, his eyes trying to penetrate the darkness behind the young man. Suddenly, Nelson lunged forward, a shrill shriek ripping itself from his throat. Blacklash and his employer could only watch as blood erupted from their agent's chest, followed by four needle-sharp blades. After a moment of screaming agony, a more gruesome fate befell the man, as his body burst into flames upon the bladed instrument of death. His screams died away almost immediately after, the youth falling to the ground as the weapon of his demise slid out of his body.
"Oh…oh my god," Scarlotti muttered as he felt an overwhelming sensation of paralyzing fear wash over him. Unable to stand his ground, he began to back away from the hellish visual on the other side of the glass. Justin Hammer remained confident, a smile of pure malice and wickedness on his face, as he looked over the creature in the containment room. Bathed in orange and red colors from the fiery corpse below him, the man's face was completely covered by a crudely fashioned mask, one that appeared to be fashioned from a burlap sack. Strands of straw and hay stuck out from every seam in his jagged stitched costume, and the pitchfork gripped in his hands ran with a fresh coating of blood.
"That can't be…" Blacklash attempted to say.
"Oh, but it is," Hammer replied with a sustained chuckle of laughter, "Ebenezer Laughton. The Scarecrow."
His weapon raised, the Scarecrow began to tap against the glass with the points of his pitchfork. "I know you're in there," he said, his voice a raspy hiss, "I can feel your fear calling out to me. My trusty rusty needs to get wet again."
"Silence, Ebenezer," Hammer said into the microphone, causing the escapee from Hell to turn his head left to right in an effort to pinpoint the location of the voice, "and listen to me. I freed you from Hell, and with the power of the Darkhold you are now bound to my service. Do this one task for me, and I will release you from this contract and you may do as you wish."
"I need you to kill somebody for me, my fearsome little Scarecrow," Hammer concluded, the serial killer's eyes widening at the words coming over the speaker, "his name is Norbert Eversol..."
# # # # # # # # # #
Mr. White shuffled a bit in his seat as Karla's three guests entered the office. Seeing that Josten was amongst the group, the wraith-like villain stood from his chair. "I believe I'll depart now, my dear Moonstone. Have fun with your callers."
As he passed by the group, Erik held out his hand to stop the exiting White. "You can't keep avoiding me. I know it was you that saved me, White. What did you do to me?"
"That's for me to know," he answered with a smile, "and for you to figure out on your own." Before Josten could reply, the other man was gone, fallen through the floor like a ghost.
"Can I help you three with something?" Sofen asked as she returned to her desk, kicking her feet up on the table as she reclined back in her chair.
"Yeah, you can," Abe began, "starting with explaining to us just what the fuck you were thinking back in the V-Battalion base a couple of months back."
"I don't follow," Moonstone replied after a moment of confused hesitation.
"You sold us out you manipulative bitch!" Melissa yelled, pushing Abe out of the way so she could come face to face with the psychiatrist. "You told Henry Gyrich where to find us and then you abandoned us!"
Karla chuckled slightly once Melissa was finished, her hands raising up to put her long, blonde hair into a ponytail. "You really think I turned you in?"
"Pretty obvious to us," Erik commented.
"Dr. Sofen didn't turn you in," a voice came from behind them, causing all four people to jump in surprise. Justin Hammer stood in the doorway, his bodyguard Quantum standing directly to his left. The older gentleman tapped his cane lightly on the floor, a stern look upon his face as his eyes fluttered to the three accusers standing in the office.
"You don't know that, Hammer," Jenkins spat, "you weren't there. We know what we saw."
"She didn't turn you in," the industrialist reiterated, "because…I did."
All four Thunderbolts were shocked into silence.
"Don't look so surprised," Hammer continued, "did you think it mere chance that you all ended up here, working for me? I need you all, but more importantly, I needed what you represent. The Thunderbolts name, while tarnished by the ingeniously diabolical plans of Baron Zemo, is still one that comes somewhat fondly regarded amongst the throngs of heroes that populate this country. Your efforts at redemption have given me the edge I needed."
"To do what, exactly?" Melissa asked.
"You'll find out soon enough, Ms. Gold," he answered with a slight smile, "but let me leave you with this. I am an industrialist, after all...and nothing powers the machine of industry like the engine of war..."
An uneasy silence fell over the room's occupants, and when no comments were made Hammer nodded his head pleasurably. At that moment, the phone on Moonstone's desk began to ring, shocking them all back to their senses. "Dr. Sofen," she answered after picking up the reciever, "yes. Yes, I'll let him know." After hanging up the phone, she took a long, uneasy glance at her employer. "That was security, Justin. The press are here, as per your request."
Hammer showed no emotion as he and his bodyguard turned back toward the door. "Excellent," he said over his shoulder, "pay close attention to the television, and if a Mr. Unuscione calls, tell him that everything is going according to plan."
# # # # # # # # # #
"This is Trish Tilby, reporting live for CNBC on location at the San Francisco headquarters of multi-million dollar industrialist Justin Hammer. Early this morning, all major television and newspaper agents were contacted by representatives of Mr. Hammer, inviting us to come televise an announcement that will, and I quote, 'change the world'. Now that he has made his way to the podium that's been erected for him to speak, we shall be running this supposed revelation live around the world."
"Thank you for coming, my friends in the American and world news affiliates. You've all come here today, by my invitation, to bear witness to the unveiling of a grand design, one in which will change the destiny of foreign affairs from this moment on.
"Our country, indeed this very world, seems of late to be hanging on the precipice of collapse, controlled and affected by the power of a mere handful of individuals. Those to whom I'm referring, the so-called 'super-villains' of the world, I have an ultimatum in which to set forth. No longer will the free and private citizens of this country be held under the dominance of fear and terror...no longer will we sit back and watch as the safety of our entire way of existence is decided in battles between you and the few that dare to go to combat against you...no longer will we remain enfeebled by the chance of defeat, by the common thought that you hold power over us. How much longer can we take the chance that our heroes will continue to save us, day in and day out, from the Victor Von Dooms of the world?
"I say not one...moment...more.
"Using the resources at my disposal and discretion, Hammer Industries has brought together a group of employees that will be seeking out these despots at their homes, striking them before they can annihilate us completely. These warriors I have christened the Thunderbolts, and they will be deployed immediately to the largest crisis point on the globe. We will do what the United Nations refuses to do. We will do what the Avengers, the Fantastic Four, the X-Men, and all other 'heroes' are unwilling or unable to attempt.
"Magneto, all of Genosha, prepare yourselves. We are coming for you...and we will not rest until your mutant tyranny over my people has ended."
# # # # # # # # # #
NEXT ISSUE: War has been declared! The Thunderbolts storm Genosha with only one goal: the assassination of Magneto! Don't miss part one of the crossover with Fallen Angels, "Industrial Strength"!
# # # # # # # # # #
LIGHTNING STRIKES
So, yeah, it's been a little while since this series had a new issue...but look! Here it is! So there.
First letter this month comes from lettercol regular (aw, you guys know him!) Steve Crosby!
Thanks Chris. I liked the story, especially the background stuff on the new Masters of Evil. Nice intro to their powers and such (I loved Viral's powers. Heh, you watch much Simpsons?). And shit, with your handling of the Vault, you ever think of trying to prop the MV1 series? Still, what's the deal with two super-villains being able to hold off the entire security force? No wonder there are so many breakouts.
Ha ha ha, why yes, Mr. Crosby...I DO watch a lot of Simpsons!
As for Thunderbolts, you're definately writing it in a great direction: that of criminal and government conspiracy, getting into the heads of the villians and the officials trying to take advantage of them. It's certainly rife with the intrigue and violence that will keep me coming back for more. Even with all the answers you jammed into this issue, there are so many more questions still left unanswered.
And I'll look forward to discovering more questions next issue.
Glad to see you're enjoying my little romp through the criminal underworld, and as you've seen there's been even MORE answers revealed this issue...and, naturally, just as many new questions raised. Thanks Cros, you da bestest.
Next up are letters from another Lightning Strikes regular (and fellow M2K writer), David Ingram, and his thoughts on both # 19 and 20!
Thunderbolts 19.
The Good= Answers, yay! I loved the back drop of 'The Bar with no Name', a place that can never be used enough. Jolt telling the last tale of the Thunderbolts is fitting considering her place in Thunderbolts lore. Scourge's mass murder was just plain disturbing, and rocked. The Master's of Evil intro was odd and weird, but it felt like it was meant to be. So, Moonstone betrayed the Thunderbolts? Somehow I doubt it will be that easy, but I like it.
As you've discovered, the betrayal of the Tbolts wasn't quite as simple as it seemed, heheh. And yeah, using Jolt one last time felt nice, especially since it really was the LAST time, lol.
The Bad=Really, the only bad stuff is fanboyish of me. I didn't like the deaths of Electro, Whirlwind and Avalanche, but hey. Looks like Jolt is on her way out, which is a shame. I like the character, but at least her death will have an impact
Yeah, I know...Exner yelled at me for killing Whirlwind and Electro as well.
Thunderbolts 20
The Good= More answers, yay! I loved seeing the Master's in action, and the Scourge thing resolved. So, Mach 1 is an L.M.D? Interesting. And Scourge...I have to say, what happened when I learned who Scourge was rarely ever happens. I was completely and utterly blown away. I never saw it coming, and never would have. Techno as Scourge? Brillant. And Gyrich an L.M.D too? Makes sense. how did they copy Abe's brain, though? You'd think he'd notice whatever process was used. Jolt's death, as intended no doubt, was sickening. I really hope the Ladykiller does a painful death before this is all over.
Life Model Decoys...I had hoped people would think of that as a cop-out for those plots, but seriously, it really IS what's been planned since the beginning, lol. Honest! And do you really think Ladykiller's gonna die? I mean, this IS a book about super-villains, after all...the bad guys are supposed to get away in the end!
The Bad= Well, I'm a little torn. L.M.D's seem kinda easy, but anything else would seem out of place. Oh, well. Keep up the fine work!
Thanks a lot, David! Come back next issue for some ass-stompin, blood-in-the-urine action!
Chris Munn
10/16/03
BIBLIOGRAPHY
- Bookworm made his first and only appearance in Sleepwalker # 4.
- The Scarecrow died and became a servant of Blackheart in Ghost Riders: Crossroads. He was last seen trapped in Hell in Ghost Rider # 86.
- The attempted apprehension of the Thunderbolts by Henry Gyrich happened between Thunderbolts # 12 and Thunderbolts # 13.