He had been rendered impotent. Writhing on the floor of his own ruling office, centered at the top of the barely-standing citadel that had been erected in his honor, Erik Magnus Lehnsherr was forced to bear audience to a man he had only just met moments before. This man, however, had a reputation that preceded him. Despite the pain that wracked his body and ravaged his nervous system, the events that led to his situation were playing over and over in his mind.
An American industrialist named Justin Hammer had declared war on Magnus and the country he ruled, the small African island of Genosha . In the past, Erik had spent years as a genetic terrorist…Magneto, mutant master of magnetism. He had long forgone the dead end belief of mutant superiority over baseline Homo sapiens, having retired to rule his mutant country and protect it to his best ability. His time as a terrorist, however, had made him a target in the eyes of this man, Hammer, who apparently wished to make a name for himself as a champion for his people. That had been Magneto's belief when the television declaration of war came to his attention, but his folly came in just how wrong he truly had been.
Hammer had assembled a group of costumed criminals, a small army of known superhuman felons, that he had christened the Thunderbolts. Months passed with no word or action taken against Genosha, and Magneto had foolishly allowed himself to believe that Hammer had been like many other human leaders before him: a man of talk and not action. Again, Magnus had been wrong. In the morning, the Thunderbolts struck, destroying a large part of the Genoshan capital city Hammer Bay in their attack. It was unknown how the villains gained admittance to the heart of the city, but Magneto had his suspicions…he felt there was a traitor amongst his flock.
Focusing his vision through the electrical pain that left him contorted on the floor in the fetal position, Magneto glared at the masked man that stood before him. This man had impersonated Justin Hammer - for how long, Magnus knew not - and had been ingenious enough to devise a plan that rendered not only Hammer Bay in a state of war, but had brought Magneto himself to a position of helplessness. The man was a murderer on a grand scale…a tyrannical despot whose name had been whispered amongst the halls of justice with equal amounts of fear and hatred…a Nazi, spawn of one of the madmen that had exterminated the Jewish during World War II. Jews that included Magneto's own family.
His name as Baron Heinrich Zemo, and the purple mask that covered his hideously scarred features was an image that Magneto would hold in contempt for the rest of his days.
“Everything is going as planned,” Zemo said to his two aides - the fat man whose voice could control even the most strongest of wills and the brutish mute that could duplicate himself into an uncountable army of clones.
“I didn't know who you were,” the fat man, whose chosen name was the Voice, stammered as he looked upon his master with fear-filled eyes, “I thought you were Hammer. Dear Lord, what I have done?”
“Be silent, Voice,” Zemo threatened, nodding in the direction of the brute, Quantum, “and my bodyguard and I may allow you to live through this.”
“Zemo,” Magnus' voice strained through gritted teeth, the miniature Electromagnetic Pulse device affixed to his forehead disallowing access to his natural powers over magnetism, “I will see you dead before this ends.”
“Of course you will,” the Baron replied as he unclipped a walkie-talkie from his belt. Ignoring what the mutant ruler had to say, he turned toward the large bay window of the citadel office, taking in the site of destruction that had once been Magda Square . “Moonstone,” he said into the radio, “Magneto is mine. Update me on your progress.”
“We're encountering resistance,” a female voice answered, the signal filled with static, “from Magneto's personal guard.”
“The Fallen Angels,” Zemo replied, “should be no trouble. You've been briefed on them all. I want a 100% casualty rate, Dr. Sofen. Our team is, of course, expendable.”
No reply came for several long minutes, the silence hanging in the air of the office like a living being. Finally, the response came. “Acknowledged. Moonstone out.”
Clipping the radio back on his belt, Baron Zemo returned his attention to the crippled Magneto. His lips curled into a smile, barely visible beneath his mask, the son of Helmet Zemo crouched down and placed a hand beneath the mutant's chin, raising his head so he could look him in the eye.
“Now, where were we?”
An American industrialist named Justin Hammer had declared war on Magnus and the country he ruled, the small African island of Genosha . In the past, Erik had spent years as a genetic terrorist…Magneto, mutant master of magnetism. He had long forgone the dead end belief of mutant superiority over baseline Homo sapiens, having retired to rule his mutant country and protect it to his best ability. His time as a terrorist, however, had made him a target in the eyes of this man, Hammer, who apparently wished to make a name for himself as a champion for his people. That had been Magneto's belief when the television declaration of war came to his attention, but his folly came in just how wrong he truly had been.
Hammer had assembled a group of costumed criminals, a small army of known superhuman felons, that he had christened the Thunderbolts. Months passed with no word or action taken against Genosha, and Magneto had foolishly allowed himself to believe that Hammer had been like many other human leaders before him: a man of talk and not action. Again, Magnus had been wrong. In the morning, the Thunderbolts struck, destroying a large part of the Genoshan capital city Hammer Bay in their attack. It was unknown how the villains gained admittance to the heart of the city, but Magneto had his suspicions…he felt there was a traitor amongst his flock.
Focusing his vision through the electrical pain that left him contorted on the floor in the fetal position, Magneto glared at the masked man that stood before him. This man had impersonated Justin Hammer - for how long, Magnus knew not - and had been ingenious enough to devise a plan that rendered not only Hammer Bay in a state of war, but had brought Magneto himself to a position of helplessness. The man was a murderer on a grand scale…a tyrannical despot whose name had been whispered amongst the halls of justice with equal amounts of fear and hatred…a Nazi, spawn of one of the madmen that had exterminated the Jewish during World War II. Jews that included Magneto's own family.
His name as Baron Heinrich Zemo, and the purple mask that covered his hideously scarred features was an image that Magneto would hold in contempt for the rest of his days.
“Everything is going as planned,” Zemo said to his two aides - the fat man whose voice could control even the most strongest of wills and the brutish mute that could duplicate himself into an uncountable army of clones.
“I didn't know who you were,” the fat man, whose chosen name was the Voice, stammered as he looked upon his master with fear-filled eyes, “I thought you were Hammer. Dear Lord, what I have done?”
“Be silent, Voice,” Zemo threatened, nodding in the direction of the brute, Quantum, “and my bodyguard and I may allow you to live through this.”
“Zemo,” Magnus' voice strained through gritted teeth, the miniature Electromagnetic Pulse device affixed to his forehead disallowing access to his natural powers over magnetism, “I will see you dead before this ends.”
“Of course you will,” the Baron replied as he unclipped a walkie-talkie from his belt. Ignoring what the mutant ruler had to say, he turned toward the large bay window of the citadel office, taking in the site of destruction that had once been Magda Square . “Moonstone,” he said into the radio, “Magneto is mine. Update me on your progress.”
“We're encountering resistance,” a female voice answered, the signal filled with static, “from Magneto's personal guard.”
“The Fallen Angels,” Zemo replied, “should be no trouble. You've been briefed on them all. I want a 100% casualty rate, Dr. Sofen. Our team is, of course, expendable.”
No reply came for several long minutes, the silence hanging in the air of the office like a living being. Finally, the response came. “Acknowledged. Moonstone out.”
Clipping the radio back on his belt, Baron Zemo returned his attention to the crippled Magneto. His lips curled into a smile, barely visible beneath his mask, the son of Helmet Zemo crouched down and placed a hand beneath the mutant's chin, raising his head so he could look him in the eye.
“Now, where were we?”
Back to GatefoldIssue #23 by Chris Munn
INDUSTRIAL STRENGTH Part 2 of 2 |
“Come on, you furry bitch…come get some.”
In the heart of the still-smoldering crater that had been Magda Square , one man stood definitely in the face of one of the deadliest collection of individuals ever assembled. The buzz saws on his wrists spun at their deadliest velocity, and the Gladiator's eyes narrowed, hidden behind the steel helmet that rested atop his head. The men and women charging at him were known as the Fallen Angels, the elite mutant guard of Magneto, protectors of Genosha. He recognized them all from the mission briefing all of the Thunderbolts had been given, and he knew the one at the forefront of the charge was one of the deadliest the island of mutants had to offer.
Her name was Feral, a feline femme fatale that was as psychotic as she was lethal, and the moment she was within striking distance she pounced. A snarl escaped her throat as she descended through the smoke and ash toward her prey, but Gladiator moved nary an inch. Feral landed hard against his body, her claws sparking against the metal armor that covered his chest. The warrior was unimpressed by the assault, his hand thrusting forward to grab hold of the woman's one extraneous body part…her tail.
“Rwwrawwr!” The cat-woman shrieked as Gladiator yanked down hard on her tail, pulling her to the ground as forcefully as he could. Careful to avoid her flailing claws, the armored Thunderbolt swiped his own arm across her chest, slicing a deep cut into her breast with his spinning wrist-saw. Feral screamed again, but this time her cry for assistance was answered. An explosion rocked the area upon which Gladiator stood, knocking him to the ground in a tumbled heap. He rolled onto his back, and standing beside the recovering Feral was a woman in skin-tight, revealing leather, her blonde hair cut into a short bob.
“Nobody messes with our country, dickhead,” Meltdown said, her eyes hidden behind a pair of stylish sunglasses. Another glowing orb of energy pulsed in the palm of her hand, ready to be released at any notice of movement from the downed Gladiator.
“Duck and cover, Glads!” a voice yelled from above, and Melvin Potter watched as several boomerangs sliced through the air toward the two mutant women. Meltdown and Feral both narrowly dodged the razor-lined weapons, but Gladiator had been given time to return to his feet. Now standing beside him were two of his teammates, Boomerang and Blacklash.
“The others are still out of it,” Blacklash stated, his energy whip uncoiled and ready to strike, “so it's up to us to hold the line.”
“We're not going to survive this,” Melvin commented as he saw the remaining Angels, the black man that was called the Anarchist and the young girl named Chance, coming down the slope toward them.
“Then we take as many o' them as we can with us,” Boomerang answered with a wink and a smarmy grin, “while we unleash more Hell than these mutie buggers have ever seen before.”
# # # # # # # # # #
“Oh god, Abe,” Melissa Gold whispered as she landed next to the small crater her teammate had made upon his crash, “please be okay...”
Songbird fought hard to keep the tears from welling up in her eyes, an act she'd been fighting since she saw what had happened to the man she had loved only a few moments before. High above in the Genoshan sky, Abe Jenkins – MACH-1 – had been part of the strike force against Magneto. Unfortunately, this was an unwise decision, as Magneto's mastery of magnetism had provided in the armored Abe an easy target and example of the mutant's power.
Searching through the smoke and flame that billowed from the center of the crater, Songbird finally found her former lover. What had once been a man, a wonderful man that had made her feel more special than she'd ever felt, was now a broken and twisted hunk of blood and steel. MACH-1's armor had been crushed by Magneto's power, with the man inside helpless to save himself. Melissa turned away from the deceased body of Abner Jenkins, unable to fight back the tears that streamed freely down her cheeks.
“You attack a city filled with merciless mutants,” a woman's voice said from above her, causing Songbird's attention to snap back into focus, “and you have to expect some casualties.”
Standing at the edge of the crater, looking down on the distraught Thunderbolt, was a young woman, her short white hair slowly being covered in gray from the ash floating in the air. “My name's Blaze,” she introduced herself, “and if you think what big Mags did to your boyfriend was something...heh, just you wait and see what I can do.”
Songbird already knew what the girl before her was capable of, courtesy of the lengthy debriefing she had underwent alongside her teammates before leaving for Genosha. Siena Blaze was possibly one of deadliest individuals on the planet, with the potential to turn the Earth into a giant desolate scar. She was a walking natural disaster, her mere presence enough to disrupt the gravimetric processes of nature. Electromagnetic energy arced over her body, accenting the smirk on her face. Siena knew how dangerous she was, and was homicidal enough to use her powers at their full strength, despite knowing full well that she ran the risk of ripping a hole in space big enough to swallow the sun. She could destroy planets , Siena surmised as she placed her hands on her hips, daring Songbird to strike out at her...what did she have to be afraid of?
And then Songbird opened her mouth.
The high-pitched siren wail exploded from the former villain's bionic vocal chords, hitting Blaze with the physical force of a moving car. Knocking her like a rag doll into the air, Siena 's own scream was inaudible in relation to Songbird's piercing shriek. After hitting the ground – hard – Sienna immediately brought her hands to her ears in a vain effort to block the noise that assaulted her. She discovered quickly that her own ears had blood pouring out like a water faucet.
“Buh-buh...” Blaze stammered out as she attempted, shakily, to get to her feet, “bitch!”
Songbird flew into the air, propelled on pink wings of solid sound that she had used her bionic carapace to create, and immediately began to swoop back down on her target. Her anger at Abe's death fueling her, the struggling hero side of Melissa Gold had submerged, driven under by grief and fury.
Before Melissa could strike...before Blaze could retaliate or protect herself...the unexpected happened. From beneath Siena 's feet, the ground exploded upward, giant green tentacles bursting forth from the cracked and smoldered concrete. Songbird watched as the strange objects wrapped around Blaze's body, lifting her high in the air. They weren't tentacles, Melissa thought as she stared in stunned silence from the air, they were vines .
“You are an abomination,” the green-skinned man in the trenchcoat stated loudly as he, too, emerged from the ground – standing atop one of the giant vines under his control. Samuel Smithers was frightening, his body's mutation seemingly further along that the last time Melissa had seen him. He furrowed his brow and scowled at the young mutant woman held in the grasp of his vines. “Nature screams at your presence, woman. Be gone.”
The vines lifted Blaze even higher into the air, rearing back as they climbed...and then they threw her away. She disappeared into the sky, her momentum sending her in the direction of the ocean. Taproot cocked his head at the shocked Songbird, who had flown to a position beside him. “You would have killed her,” he commented, “but nature had right to first blood.”
# # # # # # # # # #
“Tell me, Herr Magnus,” Baron Zemo hissed through a closed smile beneath his mask, “have you ever been so embarrassed?”
Zemo fought hard not to chuckle at his own question. Sitting upon Magneto's own throne with his foot propped up regally on the back of the mutant ruler's head as he laid prostate on the ground before him, the Baron finally felt that the world had become right once again. Not known for outbursts of laughter, maniacal or not, Zemo kept his composure despite the hilarity of seeing the Master of Magnetism humbled before him like a mewling babe.
“When I first usurped the identity of the industrialist,” Zemo continued, his penchant for self-gratifying soliloquy displaying itself nicely, “I had no idea it would lead to this. I was simply looking for a place to hide from the renegade Amerikaner , Gyrich. Access, security, and money were what concerned me at the time, mein freund ...and look at where we stand today.”
Quantum, the silent brute that remained by Zemo's side at all times, watched the Baron's actions with a blank expression. Whatever deal the two had made was known only to them, for Quantum was an alien that traversed across the planes of stellar suns...yet even he bowed down to Helmut Zemo. The Voice of Doom, on the other hand, could do little else than cower in the corner of the penthouse throne room. While it was true, that the Voice liked to consider himself a connoisseur of villainy – and that he once worked for the Red Skull – he also knew the reputation of Baron Zemo. He was now in service of a man that felt no remorse in letting his aides fall at his feet, and he knew that he would live as long as he was useful.
“The United Nations, those rührende idioten , practically fell to their knees in worship when I approached them with my plan to level your backwater country,” Zemo continued, pushing down on Magneto's head with the toe of his boot as accents to his speech, “and even should I fail, I will receive my payment from the nations of the world. But I shall not fail!”
After hiking his leg, the Baron swiftly brought the heel of his boot crashing down against Magneto's jaw, causing his pain-wracked body to convulse even more.
“A Zemo does not fail!”
The walkie-talkie clipped to Helmut's belt buzzed with a staticy voice, interrupting his moment of glory. Snatching the communicator from his hip and raising it to his mouth, he answered angrily. “Who calls on Zemo?”
“It's White,” the voice crackled through the handheld, “what should I do with our boy down here?”
“100% casualty rate,” Zemo answered confidently, “let every mutant mongrel in the city feel our wrath.”
# # # # # # # # # #
“That whole ‘unleash hell' crack...I didn't mean it mate - :: choke :: - really.”
Boomerang, the weapons that gave him his namesake expended nearly to nothing with most lying broken on the ground around him, found himself in a precarious situation. Standing before Fred Meyers was a large black man whose equally large hand was wrapped around his throat, crushing the life from him with a slow, methodical closing of his fingers. The Anarchist scowled at the Australian that was dying in his hands, wondering what his last thought could possibly be. All Boomerang could think of was how he had seemed to get his ass kicked in every fight he'd been party to over the past few months.
“Let him go!” Gladiator shouted over the din of battle as he ran toward the Fallen Angel that was murdering his teammate. His buzzsaws spinning, he closed the distance between himself and the Anarchist, mere feet away from saving Meyers' life.
“Back off, fucker,” the Anarchist said in a deep gravelly voice as he pointed his free hand at the oncoming warrior. A ferocious blast of energy exploded from his palm, cascading over Gladiator's body and instantly engulfing it. Melvin Potter staggered slightly at the onslaught, his armor protecting most of his body from the intense energy corona...protecting everything but his exposed arms.
“Lemme give you a tip,” the Anarchist said to his new target as he tossed the barely breathing Boomerang into a small hole blasted out of the concrete, “you putting your main offensive weapons on your wrists and then leaving your fuckin' arms exposed is the worst costume design I think I've ever seen.”
Despite the 1 st degree burns on his arms, Potter slowly began to walk toward the mutant African American, determined to prove that he would not be beaten so easily. “You got heart, man,” the Anarchist admitted as he raised his hand for another blast of energy, “but that only goes so far.”
Gladiator was dead. He knew he couldn't cross the distance between them before he was blasted again. Still he pressed on, however, hoping against hope that his final act could be more successful than the majority of his life. The Anarchist nodded his head, with the energy beginning to pulse in his palm...
...and then he screamed as the steel whip wrapped around his wrist, digging into the flesh as it easily cut through his glove. His hand was jerked to the side as he fired his energy blast, causing him to fall off balance. The blast narrowly missed the still-advancing Gladiator, who used the new situation to his advantage. Finally making his way to his opponent, Potter grabbed the Anarchist's collar and lifted him – despite the pain he felt in his arms – into the air. With the mutant in his grasp, the Gladiator head-butted him, the solid steel helmet he wore striking the black man directly in the bridge of his nose. Blood exploded down the Anarchist's face, causing him to shout a stream of profanities in response to the pain. When Melvin released him, however, he found that his own reserve of stamina was spent...and he, too, fell to the ground.
“Glads, you okay, man?” Blacklash, the Thunderbolt responsible for saving Potter's life, slid to his knees beside the felled man. He winced visibly as he looked over the charred flesh on Melvin's arms. “Quantum!” he shouted into the radio headset built into his cowl. “Injured party needs an evac, right the fuck now!”
In the amount of time it took Blacklash to finish his command, a flash of atomic energy heralded the arrival of the mute Quantum...or, more accurately, a duplicate of the mute alien, sent by the original in Magneto's tower. Instantly moving to action, the Dakkamite warrior scooped the wounded Gladiator into his arms, and another flash of light sealed their departure. Blacklash simply sighed in frustration as he looked over the ruins of what had once been a thriving city, and the appearance of another Quantum scooping up the similarly injured Boomerang made him at least a little thankful. The sound of a man groaning behind him caught his attention.
The Anarchist was on his hands and knees, attempting to stand after having recovered from the initial shock of the blow he'd received. Blacklash looked down at the man and scowled. “Whip's still attached to your wrist, moron,” he stated as he depressed a button on his whip's handle. Instantaneously, several thousand volts of electricity surged through the steel conductor and into Tike Alicar's body, sending the mutant into spastic convulsions. After a few seconds (an eternity to Alicar), Blacklash removed his finger from the jolt button, allowing the Fallen Angel to slump back to the ground, unconscious and smoldering.
# # # # # # # # # #
“Carmilla!”
Carmilla Unuscione turned at the announcement of her name, surprised that she could hear anything over the din of chaos that surrounded her. With her ectoplasmic skeleton surrounding her like armor, the second-in-command to Lord Magneto steeled herself for battle. Finally, one of the attackers had recognized her status on the island and sought to send her into death...but she would not go quietly, oh no. Unuscione would fight to the death, she decided as she turned on her heels to face the two men running toward her.
She gasped when she saw her own father standing before her, tears of joy running down his face. “Carmilla,” he began slowly, almost as if he himself didn't believe that they had finally been reunited, “I've come for you. I've come to save you from the madman named Magneto.”
Carmilla blinked several times in succession, stunned at her father's words. A quick glance at the pale man in white that stood behind Unus confirmed her suspicions, and her expression turned from confusion to anger. “You fool!” she shouted, pushing her sire hard in the chest. “ You orchestrated this? How could you betray our people in such a way?”
“But, Carmilla,” Unus stammered, stepping back slightly, “I did it to save you. I know first hand the techniques that Magnus uses to sway others to his side. You are being used , and I could tolerate it no longer.”
Seething with unbridled rage, Carmilla took another glance at the man in white, who was now talking into a small radio he held in his palm. She watched the man nod in confirmation to whatever order he'd received, but she then turned back to her father. “You're going to get us all murdered,” she spat, bringing her hands up as if to attack, “these people will kill us all.”
“What do we have to fear?” Unus answered with a faint smile. “We're untouchable...”
“Don't mind me,” Mr. White interrupted as he moved to Angelo Unuscione's right side, “just giving you your payment.”
Unus cocked his head to look at his supposed partner, but was only time to see White's fist quickly reaching for his face. He was immensely surprised when the Thunderbolt's hand passed through his personal force field and then solidified, connecting hard with Angelo's jaw. Unus stumbled backward, but White kept hold of the mutant by the hair on the back of his head. Pushing with all his strength, the intangible Mr. White shoved Unus into the nearest wall of a bombed out building, having made his betrayed opponent ethereal with him. When Unus was half passed through the wall like so much a ghost, White let go .
Unus didn't even have time to scream as he solidified instantly, his molecules bonding quite messily with the stone structure he'd been mercilessly merged with. “Don't spend it all in one place,” White commented nonchalantly as he took a final look at the man who had trusted him.
“What did you do to him?” Unuscione asked casually, seemingly unaffected by the events that had unfolded before her.
“I removed him from the synchrony of this dimension,” White explained as he lifted a cigarette to his mouth, “and then brought him back. Two pieces of matter can't occupy the same physical space.” After striking a match and lighting his cigarette, he lifted his radio to his mouth. “White here...our Trojan horse has expired. Get me the fuck out of this hell hole.”
Instantly, another Quantum clone appeared beside him, ready to transport him back to safe ground. White held an open palm in the air before Quantum, telling him to wait a moment. “If I were you,” White advised Carmilla, “I'd find a way off this island right now.”
Carmilla Unuscione nodded her head in understanding as Quantum and White vanished before her eyes.
# # # # # # # # # #
Moonstone was bored.
Floating above the battle ground, she watched as a cluster of her teammates fought the remaining members of the Fallen Angels. While Feral and Meltdown and renewed their assault against the Thunderbolts, Karla had watched the young girl named Chance flee from the field of conquest. Unfortunately, she had also watched several of her own teammates fall in battle, only to be extracted by the innumerable horde of teleporting Quantum copies.
“Moonstone!” Volcana shouted as she shot forth a weak burst of lava at the advancing Feral. Dr. Sofen was content to merely watch the fat sow of a woman struggle against her opponent, as she had accurately surmised before attacking that Volcana's part in taking the city would leave her in a considerably weakened condition. Moonstone was actually surprised that the woman had managed to stay alive as long as she had.
Volcana whimpered slightly as she fell on her back, her power finally pushed to the point of exhaustion. The slightly insane cat warrior named Feral decided to take advantage of her prey's weakness, pouncing into the air with the intention of landing atop the woman and clawing her to death. Imagine her surprise when her pounce was halted in mid-air by a flying man that had grabbed her beneath her arms.
“This is no offense, frisky,” the Killer Shrike stated as he soared into the air, propelled by his glider wings, with Feral in tow, “but it's time I earned my pay in this little shindig.”
Caught in a frenzy of bloodlust, the feline Angel attempted to claw at her carrier, scratching him several times about the face and arms. “God damn it!” Shrike shouted, bringing his hands to his face to inspect the damage made by her claws. Of course, what he realized immediately after was that he had let Feral go in open air to do the said inspection...
“Oops...”
On the ground below, another battle between two individuals continued. Blizzard had felt relatively inadequate during the struggle, his ice powers seemingly useless against the onslaught of the Fallen Angels. Meltdown had kept him on the run for quite a while, unleash bomb after bomb of explosive energy. Finally, he stopped running, and raised a passive hand at his opponent.
“Hold on a sec,” he said through desperate pants for air, “lemme catch my second wind.”
“You gotta be kidding me,” Meltdown sighed as she launched another plasma burst at Blizzard's feet. The energy bomb exploded on contact, catching Donnie Gill with the full of its force. He screamed in pain as the explosive burst shredded his cybernetic costume, and he fell staggered backward in confusion. Sparks shot from the suit that provided his powers, and with a jerk of his body he returned Meltdown's favor by exploding himself. A wave of ice cascaded around his surroundings in a circular radius, catching the young mutant girl completely off guard. She was flash frozen, trapped in a block of solid ice before she could adequately defend herself.
Moonstone watched Blizzard's plight from her position in the air, furrowing her brow as yet another of her teammates fell to the ground in pain. With her attention focused on the ground, she was unable to hear the warning shouts of the Killer Shrike in the air above her.
But she acted anyway, at the exact moment the falling Feral descended past her. Without turning even an inch, she threw back her fist and caught the flailing cat-woman directly in the midsection. Feral's downward trajectory turned at a precise 90 degree angle, the force of Moonstone's backward slap sending her sailing off across the battlefield until she, too, disappeared from view.
“Remind me never to try and sneak up on you ,” the Shrike commented as he sailed past Moonstone, prompting an ever-so-slight smile from the normally stoic psychologist.
“Two more for extraction,” Moonstone said aloud as she floated to the ground, following the Killer Shrike. By the time she landed, two Quantum doubles were already teleporting away with Volcana and Blizzard in their care. Moonstone and the Shrike looked around the area, wondering if they were the only remaining members of the strike force. Through the smoke came the only Thunderbolts still standing – Songbird, Taproot, and Blacklash – there to join Moonstone in victory.
“I don't mean to be a spoilsport on our celebration,” Songbird remarked as she joined the cluster of her teammates, “but has anybody else wondered just where Magneto's been while his guards were getting thrashed?”
Taking a quick glance at the towering spire that was Magneto's citadel, Moonstone grunted. “He's been taken care of.”
Suddenly, another explosion rocked the remaining Thunderbolts, sending them all to their knees. They looked up to find themselves surrounded by hundreds of individuals, all of them angry and seething with various mutant energies. The citizens of Genosha had stood by and watched their defenders tossed aside by the insurgent force...but the citizens of Genosha had had enough, and every mutant on the island stood ready to defend their home soil.
“You shouldn't have attacked us!” a speaker for the crowd, a triple-eyed male, shouted as the Thunderbolts returned to their feet. The five villains put their backs to one another, ready to fight one last fight against a deadly mutant populace. The crowd's slow advance halted quickly, however, at the feeling of tremors in the ground below them...tremors that sounded ominously like footsteps.
“What the hell is that?” Blacklash asked as the footsteps grew closer.
“The insurance policy,” Moonstone answered.
The crowd of Genoshans scattered as the giant silver robot crashed through their ranks, stomping on any person that came underfoot as it advanced forward. Lasers shot from its fingertips, slicing mutant after mutant with surgical precision. Commanded by the red-clad man on the flying platform, the walking death machine known only as TESS-One entered the battle like a juggernaut, its adamantium shell protecting it from the assault of the few Genoshans brave enough to fight back.
“Kill them, TESS,” the Overrider – the robot's mental operator – commanded from his platform as he flew in a repetitious circular pattern around the battle, “kill them all !”
# # # # # # # # # #
Baron Zemo stood on the large balcony of Magneto's citadel throne room, basking in the war that waged below him. Bathed in light from the afternoon sun, Zemo was pleased beyond words. He had manipulated an army into attacking a country, with only a handful aware that he was responsible. While part of him wanted to reveal himself as the ingenious mastermind behind the attack, he knew how advantageous the persona of Justin Hammer had become...to expose himself would be foolish, and Zemo was anything but a fool.
Quantum, the original wellspring of the clones (as far as anyone knew, it being impossible to differentiate one Quantum from the next), stood directly behind his employer. No move made by Zemo escaped Quantum's watch, and if the alien thought this to perhaps be making the Baron more careless than normal, his mute nature prevented him from saying.
This possible carelessness was aptly believed at the moment, however, as neither Zemo nor Quantum noticed the lithe, small figure enter the chamber through the back of the room. The girl made her way cautiously toward the front of the throne, where Magneto laid in his helplessness. Both Zemo and Quantum had their backs to the throne, and she prayed that neither would notice her until her task was completed. Unfortunately, she forgot to consider the fat man squatting in the darkened corner across from her.
The Voice of Doom saw her just as she reached Magneto, and with more energy than one would believe him to have, he leapt to his feet and shouted. “STOP !”
Zemo and Quantum both spun on their heels at the sound of the Voice's command, their vision catching sight of the girl kneeling before Magneto. She froze in her tracks after hearing the Voice, his power halting any movement...but not before she managed to barely touch a tip of a finger atop Magneto's head...
...and for Chance, the Fallen Angel with the ability to double the strength of any mutant's ability, that one light touch was enough to give Magnus the strength he needed.
“Fools!” Magneto said as his power immediately doubled, overloading the EMP generator attached to his forehead. A massive burst of energy erupted from his body, though he was careful to ensure Chance's safety, levitating her to the back of the room as he stood to his feet. Quantum and the Voice moved as one, both stepping forward to again take down the man they'd so easily bested before.
“You have done more than enough damage,” Magneto addressed the Voice, and with a wave of his hand the giant speakers atop the obese gentleman's shoulders contracted. The Voice fell to the ground, his throat crushed and his neck broken by the force of Magneto's power. The Master of Magnetism picked up his helmet from where it had fallen during the previous battle and placed it back upon his head. Quantum continued his advance, multiplying with each step he took until once again an army of duplicates rushed forward.
Magneto smiled, and then threw up his hand.
# # # # # # # # # #
With the Genoshan citizenry defeated and dying, the Overrider and TESS-One came to a rest beside the cheering Thunderbolts. While the others thanked the Overrider for his timely rescue, Moonstone allowed herself another look to the sky in the direction of Magneto's citadel.
She gasped loudly when she saw the explosion that emerged from the citadel's penthouse. Dozen of Quantum copies flew from the building, out of the explosion, each one flailing madly as they sailed across the open air. Karla knew what had happened, needing no explanation...Magneto was free and Zemo was most assuredly in trouble.
“Quantum,” she said frantically into her communicator, “we need Erik!”
# # # # # # # # # #
“Did you enjoy your reign of terror?”
Zemo, lying on the ground from the force of Magneto's onslaught, snarled beneath his mask. Floating in the air above him, the Master of Magnetism's power flashed wildly around him, the amplification underwent by Chance's touch still enhancing his power to their utmost extreme. He was too powerful for the Baron to defeat, especially by himself, and Magneto desire the opportunity to revel in the villain's defeat.
“You think you have won?” Zemo spat, pointing an accusatory finger at the floating mutant. “I have proven your ineptitude and archaism, Lehnsherr...you, who claim to be a savior for your kind, are nothing more than a despot. You are what you profess to hate.”
Magneto's eyes narrowed.
“We are brother Nazis!” Zemo exclaimed as he rose to his feet, fist held to the air. “And as I said before, whether or not I fail, I still get my payment...for I have humbled you like no other!”
“Believe what you will,” Magneto chillingly stated as he focused his power in preparation to strike, “for you will be dead a moment from now.”
“A Zemo may know defeat,” Helmut stated as a flash of light went off behind him, “but a Zemo also knows how to win despite it.”
Magneto shouted vainly as he watched the arms of Quantum materialize around Zemo's waist, and before he could strike the two men were gone...teleported away to an unknown location. “NOOOOOOOOO!” Magneto proclaimed, unwilling to believe that Zemo could destroy his country and then escape unscathed. His protestations were halted by the crashing form of a giant fist breaking its way through the stone walls in front of him, the massive form hitting him with unbelievable speed.
Magneto fell hard against the floor, but his eyes remained open to see the giant hands of Goliath ripping apart his citadel roof. Erik Josten towered over him, a smirk on his masked face, while he cleared the building's ceiling from his way. “Don't bother getting up, Magneto,” Goliath stated as he drew his fist back into the sky, “I'm just here to leave the final calling card.”
“Calling card?” Magneto asked as he raised his magnetic shields to protect him.
“Strike like lightning!” Josten bellowed as he brought down his immense fist, the blow striking the floor of the tower penthouse and through the rest of the building, demolishing it as his moment sent his arm deeper and deeper into the building. The citadel fell in broken hunks, despite Magneto's efforts to keep the building together.
The final blow struck, Magneto watched as Goliath vanished in the same way as Zemo before him. On the ground below, the remaining Thunderbolts were extracted as well, leaving only the Genoshan populace to watch the fall of their ruler's citadel. Taking himself away from the falling building, Magneto could only look on at the destruction and devastation put upon his city by the Thunderbolts. He would have his revenge on them! He would strike them down, no matter where they hid! The world would know the fury of Magneto, the Master of Magnetism!
But then he looked down at his demoralized and damaged people, the mutants he had tried to protect. Their safe haven was gone, and Magneto realized then the true meaning of Zemo's final words...for to strike back at the Thunderbolts would mean the abandonment of his people.
And for Magneto, the savior of mutant kind, that was the cruelest blow of all.
# # # # # # # # # #
EPILOGUE
He sat in darkness, isolated from the outside world for so many months that it felt like an eternity. No contact with other people was the rule, as he was the dark and dirty secret of the men that held the secret power in America . His name was Henry Peter Gyrich, and he was in prison for being a hero.
How many times had he thought back to his reasons for his imprisonment? He'd been fired from his position in the Commission on Superhuman Activities, and it was this act that finally snapped him into focus. For years, he had attempted to curtail the expansion of superhuman individuals through the confines of the justice system, but once he was free of all constraints he was more effective. He went rogue, amassing an army of followers that helped him in rounding up fugitive costumed heroes and criminals. He was successful enough in his actions against the Thunderbolts, with the young man named Charcoal imprisoned and the criminal Techno transformed into a living weapon to assist in the crusade.
It wasn't until the encounter with X-Force and Pete Wisdom that Gyrich met with failure. Though captured by SHIELD, the Commission successfully whisked him away and buried the truth. He had heard rumors that he had been replaced by a robotic duplicate as part of the cover-up, but he had no idea of the validity of that claim.
For now he had been left to rot in the deepest, darkest hole the CSA could find. Wharton, Cooper, Heywerth and all the rest wanted the blemish on their organization to disappear...and so he had. There was no hope for escape, and for once in his life Gyrich wished that he was one of the super humans that he had so fiercely hunted.
“Henry Gyrich,” a voice said from the opposite side of the room, the speaker obscured in shadow. Only a single light bulb hung from the cell's ceiling, providing inadequate lighting for the large room.
“Who's there?” Gyrich asked frantically, the voice having taken him by surprise.
“I seek answers from you,” the voice continued, disregarding Henry's question, “about the Thunderbolts...about the fate of the V-Battalion...”
Gyrich sat up on his bed as the figure stepped into the light. He failed to recognize the man's voice, but the costume he wore immediately brought memories to Henry's mind. No expression was evident on the silver mask adorned on the stranger's face, while the black cloak fell against his body in such a way that it made him appear even more mysterious. The man raised his sword straight toward Gyrich's chest.
“I seek answers about Baron Zemo.”
Yes, the costume was immediately recognized by Henry Gyrich...and the man's true identity, he supposed, was a moot point.
Citizen V was the only name he needed...
# # # # # # # # # #
Next Issue: The battered and broken Thunderbolts deal with the aftermath of their war on Genosha, while Songbird, Goliath, and Moonstone investigate the death of a former teammate in New York City ! Also, what on earth is the Teddy Bear Squad? Find out in Thunderbolts # 24, the prelude to the extra-special 25 th issue!
# # # # # # # # # #
LIGHTNING STRIKES
Got a letter this time from pimp-about-town, David Ingram, concerning issue # 22!
I guess if I wants me props for figuring out Zemo was hiding as Justin Hammer, I gotta give some feedback, huh? Damn this catch 22 to hell and back! But now that it's revealed, why'd Zemo kill Malus?
This much is true...David was the only person to figure out ahead of time that Hammer and Zemo were one and the same. So there's yer props, you glory hound! As for Malus, he'd simply outlived his usefulness, and Zemo's all about resource management.
The good=Go hardcore Thunderbolts and racist Boomerbutt! Poor Glads seems to be losing it just by freakin' standing around. Sucks to be him. Songbird has her solid sound back! Yes, and the fans cheer! She damn well better keep it, all I'm saying. Hope the Fallen Angels kick some ass and get some characterization. They've been sorely missed. Looking forward to seeing Glads in action, as I've never read an appearance of him outside of Thunderbolts and all he's done is get his butt whupped by Cap.
In order: Glads is indeed losing it, and it's gonna get a WHOLE lot worse in issues to come. Songbird's solid sound is here to stay, but she now also has her sonic scream ability back as well. You've seen the Fallen Angels in this issue, so I hope they were all you expected them to be.
The bad=I'm not against Thunderbolt deaths, just how they're done. Magneto's very name proudly proclaims his powers. He has a long, public record of magnetic powers. Yet not only does Mach-1's armor have no defenses against him whatsoever, nor do any of the other Thunderbolts. Boomerbutt uses metal boomeranges and boot jets and I don't wanna think about the rest of the team. It's not limited to Thunderbolts, but it's really annoying when heroes don't take some obvious precautions to their foes powers.
Blame Zemo. He really didn't expect many (if any) of his Thunderbolts to come out of the Genosha attack alive, considering they were nothing more than a diversionary tactic...and as for MACH-1, well, he sure provided a good diversion didn't he? lol
Chris Munn
10/20/04
BIBLIOGRAPHY
- Baron Zemo has been impersonating Justin Hammer since before Thunderbolts # 13.
- Henry Gyrch was captured and incarcarated in X-Force # 33.
- The last Citizen V, Dallas Riordan, can be seen convalescing from a vicious attack by the Shadow King in recent issues of X-Force.
In the heart of the still-smoldering crater that had been Magda Square , one man stood definitely in the face of one of the deadliest collection of individuals ever assembled. The buzz saws on his wrists spun at their deadliest velocity, and the Gladiator's eyes narrowed, hidden behind the steel helmet that rested atop his head. The men and women charging at him were known as the Fallen Angels, the elite mutant guard of Magneto, protectors of Genosha. He recognized them all from the mission briefing all of the Thunderbolts had been given, and he knew the one at the forefront of the charge was one of the deadliest the island of mutants had to offer.
Her name was Feral, a feline femme fatale that was as psychotic as she was lethal, and the moment she was within striking distance she pounced. A snarl escaped her throat as she descended through the smoke and ash toward her prey, but Gladiator moved nary an inch. Feral landed hard against his body, her claws sparking against the metal armor that covered his chest. The warrior was unimpressed by the assault, his hand thrusting forward to grab hold of the woman's one extraneous body part…her tail.
“Rwwrawwr!” The cat-woman shrieked as Gladiator yanked down hard on her tail, pulling her to the ground as forcefully as he could. Careful to avoid her flailing claws, the armored Thunderbolt swiped his own arm across her chest, slicing a deep cut into her breast with his spinning wrist-saw. Feral screamed again, but this time her cry for assistance was answered. An explosion rocked the area upon which Gladiator stood, knocking him to the ground in a tumbled heap. He rolled onto his back, and standing beside the recovering Feral was a woman in skin-tight, revealing leather, her blonde hair cut into a short bob.
“Nobody messes with our country, dickhead,” Meltdown said, her eyes hidden behind a pair of stylish sunglasses. Another glowing orb of energy pulsed in the palm of her hand, ready to be released at any notice of movement from the downed Gladiator.
“Duck and cover, Glads!” a voice yelled from above, and Melvin Potter watched as several boomerangs sliced through the air toward the two mutant women. Meltdown and Feral both narrowly dodged the razor-lined weapons, but Gladiator had been given time to return to his feet. Now standing beside him were two of his teammates, Boomerang and Blacklash.
“The others are still out of it,” Blacklash stated, his energy whip uncoiled and ready to strike, “so it's up to us to hold the line.”
“We're not going to survive this,” Melvin commented as he saw the remaining Angels, the black man that was called the Anarchist and the young girl named Chance, coming down the slope toward them.
“Then we take as many o' them as we can with us,” Boomerang answered with a wink and a smarmy grin, “while we unleash more Hell than these mutie buggers have ever seen before.”
# # # # # # # # # #
“Oh god, Abe,” Melissa Gold whispered as she landed next to the small crater her teammate had made upon his crash, “please be okay...”
Songbird fought hard to keep the tears from welling up in her eyes, an act she'd been fighting since she saw what had happened to the man she had loved only a few moments before. High above in the Genoshan sky, Abe Jenkins – MACH-1 – had been part of the strike force against Magneto. Unfortunately, this was an unwise decision, as Magneto's mastery of magnetism had provided in the armored Abe an easy target and example of the mutant's power.
Searching through the smoke and flame that billowed from the center of the crater, Songbird finally found her former lover. What had once been a man, a wonderful man that had made her feel more special than she'd ever felt, was now a broken and twisted hunk of blood and steel. MACH-1's armor had been crushed by Magneto's power, with the man inside helpless to save himself. Melissa turned away from the deceased body of Abner Jenkins, unable to fight back the tears that streamed freely down her cheeks.
“You attack a city filled with merciless mutants,” a woman's voice said from above her, causing Songbird's attention to snap back into focus, “and you have to expect some casualties.”
Standing at the edge of the crater, looking down on the distraught Thunderbolt, was a young woman, her short white hair slowly being covered in gray from the ash floating in the air. “My name's Blaze,” she introduced herself, “and if you think what big Mags did to your boyfriend was something...heh, just you wait and see what I can do.”
Songbird already knew what the girl before her was capable of, courtesy of the lengthy debriefing she had underwent alongside her teammates before leaving for Genosha. Siena Blaze was possibly one of deadliest individuals on the planet, with the potential to turn the Earth into a giant desolate scar. She was a walking natural disaster, her mere presence enough to disrupt the gravimetric processes of nature. Electromagnetic energy arced over her body, accenting the smirk on her face. Siena knew how dangerous she was, and was homicidal enough to use her powers at their full strength, despite knowing full well that she ran the risk of ripping a hole in space big enough to swallow the sun. She could destroy planets , Siena surmised as she placed her hands on her hips, daring Songbird to strike out at her...what did she have to be afraid of?
And then Songbird opened her mouth.
The high-pitched siren wail exploded from the former villain's bionic vocal chords, hitting Blaze with the physical force of a moving car. Knocking her like a rag doll into the air, Siena 's own scream was inaudible in relation to Songbird's piercing shriek. After hitting the ground – hard – Sienna immediately brought her hands to her ears in a vain effort to block the noise that assaulted her. She discovered quickly that her own ears had blood pouring out like a water faucet.
“Buh-buh...” Blaze stammered out as she attempted, shakily, to get to her feet, “bitch!”
Songbird flew into the air, propelled on pink wings of solid sound that she had used her bionic carapace to create, and immediately began to swoop back down on her target. Her anger at Abe's death fueling her, the struggling hero side of Melissa Gold had submerged, driven under by grief and fury.
Before Melissa could strike...before Blaze could retaliate or protect herself...the unexpected happened. From beneath Siena 's feet, the ground exploded upward, giant green tentacles bursting forth from the cracked and smoldered concrete. Songbird watched as the strange objects wrapped around Blaze's body, lifting her high in the air. They weren't tentacles, Melissa thought as she stared in stunned silence from the air, they were vines .
“You are an abomination,” the green-skinned man in the trenchcoat stated loudly as he, too, emerged from the ground – standing atop one of the giant vines under his control. Samuel Smithers was frightening, his body's mutation seemingly further along that the last time Melissa had seen him. He furrowed his brow and scowled at the young mutant woman held in the grasp of his vines. “Nature screams at your presence, woman. Be gone.”
The vines lifted Blaze even higher into the air, rearing back as they climbed...and then they threw her away. She disappeared into the sky, her momentum sending her in the direction of the ocean. Taproot cocked his head at the shocked Songbird, who had flown to a position beside him. “You would have killed her,” he commented, “but nature had right to first blood.”
# # # # # # # # # #
“Tell me, Herr Magnus,” Baron Zemo hissed through a closed smile beneath his mask, “have you ever been so embarrassed?”
Zemo fought hard not to chuckle at his own question. Sitting upon Magneto's own throne with his foot propped up regally on the back of the mutant ruler's head as he laid prostate on the ground before him, the Baron finally felt that the world had become right once again. Not known for outbursts of laughter, maniacal or not, Zemo kept his composure despite the hilarity of seeing the Master of Magnetism humbled before him like a mewling babe.
“When I first usurped the identity of the industrialist,” Zemo continued, his penchant for self-gratifying soliloquy displaying itself nicely, “I had no idea it would lead to this. I was simply looking for a place to hide from the renegade Amerikaner , Gyrich. Access, security, and money were what concerned me at the time, mein freund ...and look at where we stand today.”
Quantum, the silent brute that remained by Zemo's side at all times, watched the Baron's actions with a blank expression. Whatever deal the two had made was known only to them, for Quantum was an alien that traversed across the planes of stellar suns...yet even he bowed down to Helmut Zemo. The Voice of Doom, on the other hand, could do little else than cower in the corner of the penthouse throne room. While it was true, that the Voice liked to consider himself a connoisseur of villainy – and that he once worked for the Red Skull – he also knew the reputation of Baron Zemo. He was now in service of a man that felt no remorse in letting his aides fall at his feet, and he knew that he would live as long as he was useful.
“The United Nations, those rührende idioten , practically fell to their knees in worship when I approached them with my plan to level your backwater country,” Zemo continued, pushing down on Magneto's head with the toe of his boot as accents to his speech, “and even should I fail, I will receive my payment from the nations of the world. But I shall not fail!”
After hiking his leg, the Baron swiftly brought the heel of his boot crashing down against Magneto's jaw, causing his pain-wracked body to convulse even more.
“A Zemo does not fail!”
The walkie-talkie clipped to Helmut's belt buzzed with a staticy voice, interrupting his moment of glory. Snatching the communicator from his hip and raising it to his mouth, he answered angrily. “Who calls on Zemo?”
“It's White,” the voice crackled through the handheld, “what should I do with our boy down here?”
“100% casualty rate,” Zemo answered confidently, “let every mutant mongrel in the city feel our wrath.”
# # # # # # # # # #
“That whole ‘unleash hell' crack...I didn't mean it mate - :: choke :: - really.”
Boomerang, the weapons that gave him his namesake expended nearly to nothing with most lying broken on the ground around him, found himself in a precarious situation. Standing before Fred Meyers was a large black man whose equally large hand was wrapped around his throat, crushing the life from him with a slow, methodical closing of his fingers. The Anarchist scowled at the Australian that was dying in his hands, wondering what his last thought could possibly be. All Boomerang could think of was how he had seemed to get his ass kicked in every fight he'd been party to over the past few months.
“Let him go!” Gladiator shouted over the din of battle as he ran toward the Fallen Angel that was murdering his teammate. His buzzsaws spinning, he closed the distance between himself and the Anarchist, mere feet away from saving Meyers' life.
“Back off, fucker,” the Anarchist said in a deep gravelly voice as he pointed his free hand at the oncoming warrior. A ferocious blast of energy exploded from his palm, cascading over Gladiator's body and instantly engulfing it. Melvin Potter staggered slightly at the onslaught, his armor protecting most of his body from the intense energy corona...protecting everything but his exposed arms.
“Lemme give you a tip,” the Anarchist said to his new target as he tossed the barely breathing Boomerang into a small hole blasted out of the concrete, “you putting your main offensive weapons on your wrists and then leaving your fuckin' arms exposed is the worst costume design I think I've ever seen.”
Despite the 1 st degree burns on his arms, Potter slowly began to walk toward the mutant African American, determined to prove that he would not be beaten so easily. “You got heart, man,” the Anarchist admitted as he raised his hand for another blast of energy, “but that only goes so far.”
Gladiator was dead. He knew he couldn't cross the distance between them before he was blasted again. Still he pressed on, however, hoping against hope that his final act could be more successful than the majority of his life. The Anarchist nodded his head, with the energy beginning to pulse in his palm...
...and then he screamed as the steel whip wrapped around his wrist, digging into the flesh as it easily cut through his glove. His hand was jerked to the side as he fired his energy blast, causing him to fall off balance. The blast narrowly missed the still-advancing Gladiator, who used the new situation to his advantage. Finally making his way to his opponent, Potter grabbed the Anarchist's collar and lifted him – despite the pain he felt in his arms – into the air. With the mutant in his grasp, the Gladiator head-butted him, the solid steel helmet he wore striking the black man directly in the bridge of his nose. Blood exploded down the Anarchist's face, causing him to shout a stream of profanities in response to the pain. When Melvin released him, however, he found that his own reserve of stamina was spent...and he, too, fell to the ground.
“Glads, you okay, man?” Blacklash, the Thunderbolt responsible for saving Potter's life, slid to his knees beside the felled man. He winced visibly as he looked over the charred flesh on Melvin's arms. “Quantum!” he shouted into the radio headset built into his cowl. “Injured party needs an evac, right the fuck now!”
In the amount of time it took Blacklash to finish his command, a flash of atomic energy heralded the arrival of the mute Quantum...or, more accurately, a duplicate of the mute alien, sent by the original in Magneto's tower. Instantly moving to action, the Dakkamite warrior scooped the wounded Gladiator into his arms, and another flash of light sealed their departure. Blacklash simply sighed in frustration as he looked over the ruins of what had once been a thriving city, and the appearance of another Quantum scooping up the similarly injured Boomerang made him at least a little thankful. The sound of a man groaning behind him caught his attention.
The Anarchist was on his hands and knees, attempting to stand after having recovered from the initial shock of the blow he'd received. Blacklash looked down at the man and scowled. “Whip's still attached to your wrist, moron,” he stated as he depressed a button on his whip's handle. Instantaneously, several thousand volts of electricity surged through the steel conductor and into Tike Alicar's body, sending the mutant into spastic convulsions. After a few seconds (an eternity to Alicar), Blacklash removed his finger from the jolt button, allowing the Fallen Angel to slump back to the ground, unconscious and smoldering.
# # # # # # # # # #
“Carmilla!”
Carmilla Unuscione turned at the announcement of her name, surprised that she could hear anything over the din of chaos that surrounded her. With her ectoplasmic skeleton surrounding her like armor, the second-in-command to Lord Magneto steeled herself for battle. Finally, one of the attackers had recognized her status on the island and sought to send her into death...but she would not go quietly, oh no. Unuscione would fight to the death, she decided as she turned on her heels to face the two men running toward her.
She gasped when she saw her own father standing before her, tears of joy running down his face. “Carmilla,” he began slowly, almost as if he himself didn't believe that they had finally been reunited, “I've come for you. I've come to save you from the madman named Magneto.”
Carmilla blinked several times in succession, stunned at her father's words. A quick glance at the pale man in white that stood behind Unus confirmed her suspicions, and her expression turned from confusion to anger. “You fool!” she shouted, pushing her sire hard in the chest. “ You orchestrated this? How could you betray our people in such a way?”
“But, Carmilla,” Unus stammered, stepping back slightly, “I did it to save you. I know first hand the techniques that Magnus uses to sway others to his side. You are being used , and I could tolerate it no longer.”
Seething with unbridled rage, Carmilla took another glance at the man in white, who was now talking into a small radio he held in his palm. She watched the man nod in confirmation to whatever order he'd received, but she then turned back to her father. “You're going to get us all murdered,” she spat, bringing her hands up as if to attack, “these people will kill us all.”
“What do we have to fear?” Unus answered with a faint smile. “We're untouchable...”
“Don't mind me,” Mr. White interrupted as he moved to Angelo Unuscione's right side, “just giving you your payment.”
Unus cocked his head to look at his supposed partner, but was only time to see White's fist quickly reaching for his face. He was immensely surprised when the Thunderbolt's hand passed through his personal force field and then solidified, connecting hard with Angelo's jaw. Unus stumbled backward, but White kept hold of the mutant by the hair on the back of his head. Pushing with all his strength, the intangible Mr. White shoved Unus into the nearest wall of a bombed out building, having made his betrayed opponent ethereal with him. When Unus was half passed through the wall like so much a ghost, White let go .
Unus didn't even have time to scream as he solidified instantly, his molecules bonding quite messily with the stone structure he'd been mercilessly merged with. “Don't spend it all in one place,” White commented nonchalantly as he took a final look at the man who had trusted him.
“What did you do to him?” Unuscione asked casually, seemingly unaffected by the events that had unfolded before her.
“I removed him from the synchrony of this dimension,” White explained as he lifted a cigarette to his mouth, “and then brought him back. Two pieces of matter can't occupy the same physical space.” After striking a match and lighting his cigarette, he lifted his radio to his mouth. “White here...our Trojan horse has expired. Get me the fuck out of this hell hole.”
Instantly, another Quantum clone appeared beside him, ready to transport him back to safe ground. White held an open palm in the air before Quantum, telling him to wait a moment. “If I were you,” White advised Carmilla, “I'd find a way off this island right now.”
Carmilla Unuscione nodded her head in understanding as Quantum and White vanished before her eyes.
# # # # # # # # # #
Moonstone was bored.
Floating above the battle ground, she watched as a cluster of her teammates fought the remaining members of the Fallen Angels. While Feral and Meltdown and renewed their assault against the Thunderbolts, Karla had watched the young girl named Chance flee from the field of conquest. Unfortunately, she had also watched several of her own teammates fall in battle, only to be extracted by the innumerable horde of teleporting Quantum copies.
“Moonstone!” Volcana shouted as she shot forth a weak burst of lava at the advancing Feral. Dr. Sofen was content to merely watch the fat sow of a woman struggle against her opponent, as she had accurately surmised before attacking that Volcana's part in taking the city would leave her in a considerably weakened condition. Moonstone was actually surprised that the woman had managed to stay alive as long as she had.
Volcana whimpered slightly as she fell on her back, her power finally pushed to the point of exhaustion. The slightly insane cat warrior named Feral decided to take advantage of her prey's weakness, pouncing into the air with the intention of landing atop the woman and clawing her to death. Imagine her surprise when her pounce was halted in mid-air by a flying man that had grabbed her beneath her arms.
“This is no offense, frisky,” the Killer Shrike stated as he soared into the air, propelled by his glider wings, with Feral in tow, “but it's time I earned my pay in this little shindig.”
Caught in a frenzy of bloodlust, the feline Angel attempted to claw at her carrier, scratching him several times about the face and arms. “God damn it!” Shrike shouted, bringing his hands to his face to inspect the damage made by her claws. Of course, what he realized immediately after was that he had let Feral go in open air to do the said inspection...
“Oops...”
On the ground below, another battle between two individuals continued. Blizzard had felt relatively inadequate during the struggle, his ice powers seemingly useless against the onslaught of the Fallen Angels. Meltdown had kept him on the run for quite a while, unleash bomb after bomb of explosive energy. Finally, he stopped running, and raised a passive hand at his opponent.
“Hold on a sec,” he said through desperate pants for air, “lemme catch my second wind.”
“You gotta be kidding me,” Meltdown sighed as she launched another plasma burst at Blizzard's feet. The energy bomb exploded on contact, catching Donnie Gill with the full of its force. He screamed in pain as the explosive burst shredded his cybernetic costume, and he fell staggered backward in confusion. Sparks shot from the suit that provided his powers, and with a jerk of his body he returned Meltdown's favor by exploding himself. A wave of ice cascaded around his surroundings in a circular radius, catching the young mutant girl completely off guard. She was flash frozen, trapped in a block of solid ice before she could adequately defend herself.
Moonstone watched Blizzard's plight from her position in the air, furrowing her brow as yet another of her teammates fell to the ground in pain. With her attention focused on the ground, she was unable to hear the warning shouts of the Killer Shrike in the air above her.
But she acted anyway, at the exact moment the falling Feral descended past her. Without turning even an inch, she threw back her fist and caught the flailing cat-woman directly in the midsection. Feral's downward trajectory turned at a precise 90 degree angle, the force of Moonstone's backward slap sending her sailing off across the battlefield until she, too, disappeared from view.
“Remind me never to try and sneak up on you ,” the Shrike commented as he sailed past Moonstone, prompting an ever-so-slight smile from the normally stoic psychologist.
“Two more for extraction,” Moonstone said aloud as she floated to the ground, following the Killer Shrike. By the time she landed, two Quantum doubles were already teleporting away with Volcana and Blizzard in their care. Moonstone and the Shrike looked around the area, wondering if they were the only remaining members of the strike force. Through the smoke came the only Thunderbolts still standing – Songbird, Taproot, and Blacklash – there to join Moonstone in victory.
“I don't mean to be a spoilsport on our celebration,” Songbird remarked as she joined the cluster of her teammates, “but has anybody else wondered just where Magneto's been while his guards were getting thrashed?”
Taking a quick glance at the towering spire that was Magneto's citadel, Moonstone grunted. “He's been taken care of.”
Suddenly, another explosion rocked the remaining Thunderbolts, sending them all to their knees. They looked up to find themselves surrounded by hundreds of individuals, all of them angry and seething with various mutant energies. The citizens of Genosha had stood by and watched their defenders tossed aside by the insurgent force...but the citizens of Genosha had had enough, and every mutant on the island stood ready to defend their home soil.
“You shouldn't have attacked us!” a speaker for the crowd, a triple-eyed male, shouted as the Thunderbolts returned to their feet. The five villains put their backs to one another, ready to fight one last fight against a deadly mutant populace. The crowd's slow advance halted quickly, however, at the feeling of tremors in the ground below them...tremors that sounded ominously like footsteps.
“What the hell is that?” Blacklash asked as the footsteps grew closer.
“The insurance policy,” Moonstone answered.
The crowd of Genoshans scattered as the giant silver robot crashed through their ranks, stomping on any person that came underfoot as it advanced forward. Lasers shot from its fingertips, slicing mutant after mutant with surgical precision. Commanded by the red-clad man on the flying platform, the walking death machine known only as TESS-One entered the battle like a juggernaut, its adamantium shell protecting it from the assault of the few Genoshans brave enough to fight back.
“Kill them, TESS,” the Overrider – the robot's mental operator – commanded from his platform as he flew in a repetitious circular pattern around the battle, “kill them all !”
# # # # # # # # # #
Baron Zemo stood on the large balcony of Magneto's citadel throne room, basking in the war that waged below him. Bathed in light from the afternoon sun, Zemo was pleased beyond words. He had manipulated an army into attacking a country, with only a handful aware that he was responsible. While part of him wanted to reveal himself as the ingenious mastermind behind the attack, he knew how advantageous the persona of Justin Hammer had become...to expose himself would be foolish, and Zemo was anything but a fool.
Quantum, the original wellspring of the clones (as far as anyone knew, it being impossible to differentiate one Quantum from the next), stood directly behind his employer. No move made by Zemo escaped Quantum's watch, and if the alien thought this to perhaps be making the Baron more careless than normal, his mute nature prevented him from saying.
This possible carelessness was aptly believed at the moment, however, as neither Zemo nor Quantum noticed the lithe, small figure enter the chamber through the back of the room. The girl made her way cautiously toward the front of the throne, where Magneto laid in his helplessness. Both Zemo and Quantum had their backs to the throne, and she prayed that neither would notice her until her task was completed. Unfortunately, she forgot to consider the fat man squatting in the darkened corner across from her.
The Voice of Doom saw her just as she reached Magneto, and with more energy than one would believe him to have, he leapt to his feet and shouted. “STOP !”
Zemo and Quantum both spun on their heels at the sound of the Voice's command, their vision catching sight of the girl kneeling before Magneto. She froze in her tracks after hearing the Voice, his power halting any movement...but not before she managed to barely touch a tip of a finger atop Magneto's head...
...and for Chance, the Fallen Angel with the ability to double the strength of any mutant's ability, that one light touch was enough to give Magnus the strength he needed.
“Fools!” Magneto said as his power immediately doubled, overloading the EMP generator attached to his forehead. A massive burst of energy erupted from his body, though he was careful to ensure Chance's safety, levitating her to the back of the room as he stood to his feet. Quantum and the Voice moved as one, both stepping forward to again take down the man they'd so easily bested before.
“You have done more than enough damage,” Magneto addressed the Voice, and with a wave of his hand the giant speakers atop the obese gentleman's shoulders contracted. The Voice fell to the ground, his throat crushed and his neck broken by the force of Magneto's power. The Master of Magnetism picked up his helmet from where it had fallen during the previous battle and placed it back upon his head. Quantum continued his advance, multiplying with each step he took until once again an army of duplicates rushed forward.
Magneto smiled, and then threw up his hand.
# # # # # # # # # #
With the Genoshan citizenry defeated and dying, the Overrider and TESS-One came to a rest beside the cheering Thunderbolts. While the others thanked the Overrider for his timely rescue, Moonstone allowed herself another look to the sky in the direction of Magneto's citadel.
She gasped loudly when she saw the explosion that emerged from the citadel's penthouse. Dozen of Quantum copies flew from the building, out of the explosion, each one flailing madly as they sailed across the open air. Karla knew what had happened, needing no explanation...Magneto was free and Zemo was most assuredly in trouble.
“Quantum,” she said frantically into her communicator, “we need Erik!”
# # # # # # # # # #
“Did you enjoy your reign of terror?”
Zemo, lying on the ground from the force of Magneto's onslaught, snarled beneath his mask. Floating in the air above him, the Master of Magnetism's power flashed wildly around him, the amplification underwent by Chance's touch still enhancing his power to their utmost extreme. He was too powerful for the Baron to defeat, especially by himself, and Magneto desire the opportunity to revel in the villain's defeat.
“You think you have won?” Zemo spat, pointing an accusatory finger at the floating mutant. “I have proven your ineptitude and archaism, Lehnsherr...you, who claim to be a savior for your kind, are nothing more than a despot. You are what you profess to hate.”
Magneto's eyes narrowed.
“We are brother Nazis!” Zemo exclaimed as he rose to his feet, fist held to the air. “And as I said before, whether or not I fail, I still get my payment...for I have humbled you like no other!”
“Believe what you will,” Magneto chillingly stated as he focused his power in preparation to strike, “for you will be dead a moment from now.”
“A Zemo may know defeat,” Helmut stated as a flash of light went off behind him, “but a Zemo also knows how to win despite it.”
Magneto shouted vainly as he watched the arms of Quantum materialize around Zemo's waist, and before he could strike the two men were gone...teleported away to an unknown location. “NOOOOOOOOO!” Magneto proclaimed, unwilling to believe that Zemo could destroy his country and then escape unscathed. His protestations were halted by the crashing form of a giant fist breaking its way through the stone walls in front of him, the massive form hitting him with unbelievable speed.
Magneto fell hard against the floor, but his eyes remained open to see the giant hands of Goliath ripping apart his citadel roof. Erik Josten towered over him, a smirk on his masked face, while he cleared the building's ceiling from his way. “Don't bother getting up, Magneto,” Goliath stated as he drew his fist back into the sky, “I'm just here to leave the final calling card.”
“Calling card?” Magneto asked as he raised his magnetic shields to protect him.
“Strike like lightning!” Josten bellowed as he brought down his immense fist, the blow striking the floor of the tower penthouse and through the rest of the building, demolishing it as his moment sent his arm deeper and deeper into the building. The citadel fell in broken hunks, despite Magneto's efforts to keep the building together.
The final blow struck, Magneto watched as Goliath vanished in the same way as Zemo before him. On the ground below, the remaining Thunderbolts were extracted as well, leaving only the Genoshan populace to watch the fall of their ruler's citadel. Taking himself away from the falling building, Magneto could only look on at the destruction and devastation put upon his city by the Thunderbolts. He would have his revenge on them! He would strike them down, no matter where they hid! The world would know the fury of Magneto, the Master of Magnetism!
But then he looked down at his demoralized and damaged people, the mutants he had tried to protect. Their safe haven was gone, and Magneto realized then the true meaning of Zemo's final words...for to strike back at the Thunderbolts would mean the abandonment of his people.
And for Magneto, the savior of mutant kind, that was the cruelest blow of all.
# # # # # # # # # #
EPILOGUE
He sat in darkness, isolated from the outside world for so many months that it felt like an eternity. No contact with other people was the rule, as he was the dark and dirty secret of the men that held the secret power in America . His name was Henry Peter Gyrich, and he was in prison for being a hero.
How many times had he thought back to his reasons for his imprisonment? He'd been fired from his position in the Commission on Superhuman Activities, and it was this act that finally snapped him into focus. For years, he had attempted to curtail the expansion of superhuman individuals through the confines of the justice system, but once he was free of all constraints he was more effective. He went rogue, amassing an army of followers that helped him in rounding up fugitive costumed heroes and criminals. He was successful enough in his actions against the Thunderbolts, with the young man named Charcoal imprisoned and the criminal Techno transformed into a living weapon to assist in the crusade.
It wasn't until the encounter with X-Force and Pete Wisdom that Gyrich met with failure. Though captured by SHIELD, the Commission successfully whisked him away and buried the truth. He had heard rumors that he had been replaced by a robotic duplicate as part of the cover-up, but he had no idea of the validity of that claim.
For now he had been left to rot in the deepest, darkest hole the CSA could find. Wharton, Cooper, Heywerth and all the rest wanted the blemish on their organization to disappear...and so he had. There was no hope for escape, and for once in his life Gyrich wished that he was one of the super humans that he had so fiercely hunted.
“Henry Gyrich,” a voice said from the opposite side of the room, the speaker obscured in shadow. Only a single light bulb hung from the cell's ceiling, providing inadequate lighting for the large room.
“Who's there?” Gyrich asked frantically, the voice having taken him by surprise.
“I seek answers from you,” the voice continued, disregarding Henry's question, “about the Thunderbolts...about the fate of the V-Battalion...”
Gyrich sat up on his bed as the figure stepped into the light. He failed to recognize the man's voice, but the costume he wore immediately brought memories to Henry's mind. No expression was evident on the silver mask adorned on the stranger's face, while the black cloak fell against his body in such a way that it made him appear even more mysterious. The man raised his sword straight toward Gyrich's chest.
“I seek answers about Baron Zemo.”
Yes, the costume was immediately recognized by Henry Gyrich...and the man's true identity, he supposed, was a moot point.
Citizen V was the only name he needed...
# # # # # # # # # #
Next Issue: The battered and broken Thunderbolts deal with the aftermath of their war on Genosha, while Songbird, Goliath, and Moonstone investigate the death of a former teammate in New York City ! Also, what on earth is the Teddy Bear Squad? Find out in Thunderbolts # 24, the prelude to the extra-special 25 th issue!
# # # # # # # # # #
LIGHTNING STRIKES
Got a letter this time from pimp-about-town, David Ingram, concerning issue # 22!
I guess if I wants me props for figuring out Zemo was hiding as Justin Hammer, I gotta give some feedback, huh? Damn this catch 22 to hell and back! But now that it's revealed, why'd Zemo kill Malus?
This much is true...David was the only person to figure out ahead of time that Hammer and Zemo were one and the same. So there's yer props, you glory hound! As for Malus, he'd simply outlived his usefulness, and Zemo's all about resource management.
The good=Go hardcore Thunderbolts and racist Boomerbutt! Poor Glads seems to be losing it just by freakin' standing around. Sucks to be him. Songbird has her solid sound back! Yes, and the fans cheer! She damn well better keep it, all I'm saying. Hope the Fallen Angels kick some ass and get some characterization. They've been sorely missed. Looking forward to seeing Glads in action, as I've never read an appearance of him outside of Thunderbolts and all he's done is get his butt whupped by Cap.
In order: Glads is indeed losing it, and it's gonna get a WHOLE lot worse in issues to come. Songbird's solid sound is here to stay, but she now also has her sonic scream ability back as well. You've seen the Fallen Angels in this issue, so I hope they were all you expected them to be.
The bad=I'm not against Thunderbolt deaths, just how they're done. Magneto's very name proudly proclaims his powers. He has a long, public record of magnetic powers. Yet not only does Mach-1's armor have no defenses against him whatsoever, nor do any of the other Thunderbolts. Boomerbutt uses metal boomeranges and boot jets and I don't wanna think about the rest of the team. It's not limited to Thunderbolts, but it's really annoying when heroes don't take some obvious precautions to their foes powers.
Blame Zemo. He really didn't expect many (if any) of his Thunderbolts to come out of the Genosha attack alive, considering they were nothing more than a diversionary tactic...and as for MACH-1, well, he sure provided a good diversion didn't he? lol
Chris Munn
10/20/04
BIBLIOGRAPHY
- Baron Zemo has been impersonating Justin Hammer since before Thunderbolts # 13.
- Henry Gyrch was captured and incarcarated in X-Force # 33.
- The last Citizen V, Dallas Riordan, can be seen convalescing from a vicious attack by the Shadow King in recent issues of X-Force.