The Beetle and Fixer flew into the Hammer Industries headquarters together, bursting through a broken section of the wall that was in the process of being repaired. Fixer leaped to the floor, his Tech-Pack creating a shield against the weapons fire of security guards. Beetle preferred the offensive approach, locking on to the eight men and women with his targeting system. Arcs of electricity from his fingers found each of them, knocking every guard unconscious.
“Hack their systems,” Beetle said to Fixer. “We need to know how many more Zemo is hiding behind.”
Fixer approached a node in the wall and formed a connection with his Tech-Pack. “I’m not finding many. From one camera, I think Unuscione is above us, drawing most of their attention. And most of the kills…dammit. Two of the Thunderbolts took her out.”
“Who?”
“Atlas and Songbird. We’ll need to get up there and deal with them. Can’t see where Citizen V and Black-” A suddenly rumbling cut him off. Large cracks formed on the wall, and the node suddenly shorted out.
“What the hell was that?”
“An explosion on the other side of the building. Numerous systems are going offline. Should we go there instead or…?”
“Any of our people involved?”
“Blizzard and Mankiller will be that way. Speed Demon who knows. He’d be running everywhere.”
So far as Beetle, otherwise known as MACH-1 and Abe Jenkins, was concerned, Blizzard could take care of his-fucking-self. “Atlas and Songbird are the most experienced and dangerous of the Thunderbolts. They’re the priority.”
Fixer nodded. A cannon formed out of the top of his Tech-Pack, releasing energy that vaporized the ceiling above his head and the ceiling above that. More rumbles could be heard, and they were getting closer, but the two men ignored it as they began to fly up. Suddenly Beetle heard a thunderous rending below him and looked down. A tree was bursting out of the floor and rapidly growing in their direction.
“Shit. We forgot about Taproot.” Beetle’s wings beat faster as he grabbed Fixer. “Forget the jet-pack. Keep blasting us a path!”
“Hack their systems,” Beetle said to Fixer. “We need to know how many more Zemo is hiding behind.”
Fixer approached a node in the wall and formed a connection with his Tech-Pack. “I’m not finding many. From one camera, I think Unuscione is above us, drawing most of their attention. And most of the kills…dammit. Two of the Thunderbolts took her out.”
“Who?”
“Atlas and Songbird. We’ll need to get up there and deal with them. Can’t see where Citizen V and Black-” A suddenly rumbling cut him off. Large cracks formed on the wall, and the node suddenly shorted out.
“What the hell was that?”
“An explosion on the other side of the building. Numerous systems are going offline. Should we go there instead or…?”
“Any of our people involved?”
“Blizzard and Mankiller will be that way. Speed Demon who knows. He’d be running everywhere.”
So far as Beetle, otherwise known as MACH-1 and Abe Jenkins, was concerned, Blizzard could take care of his-fucking-self. “Atlas and Songbird are the most experienced and dangerous of the Thunderbolts. They’re the priority.”
Fixer nodded. A cannon formed out of the top of his Tech-Pack, releasing energy that vaporized the ceiling above his head and the ceiling above that. More rumbles could be heard, and they were getting closer, but the two men ignored it as they began to fly up. Suddenly Beetle heard a thunderous rending below him and looked down. A tree was bursting out of the floor and rapidly growing in their direction.
“Shit. We forgot about Taproot.” Beetle’s wings beat faster as he grabbed Fixer. “Forget the jet-pack. Keep blasting us a path!”
Back to GatefoldIssue #33 by Chris Munn (plot) & Steve Crosby (script)
To All Men's Fear |
A series of small explosions blasted an opening in the wall to Justin Hammer’s private penthouse. Citizen V leapt through with sword drawn, followed closely by the Black Archer with arrow notched in bow. The elderly Justin Hammer, who had been facing away from the wall, and turned suddenly at the explosion. He spotted the intruders and cried out in fear.
“Quantum! Protect me!”
At Hammer’s side his bodyguard immediately appeared by teleportation. Quantum was a humanoid alien of large build, dressed in a garish costume that was considered a military uniform in his culture. With a thought his body was sheathed in an aura of fire and he took a step toward the threats.
“Oooh, scary!” Black Archer fired an arrow high at Quantum. It burst apart just above him, showering Quantum with a cloak of darkness. Just behind his first arrow, Black Archer fired another, this one a stunner arrow. There was a brief spark within the darkness, and then Quantum slumped out of it onto the ground, the red and white symbol on his chest scorched. “But a bodyguard that’s afraid of the dark isn’t much of a bodyguard.”
“Whatever you want, it’s yours,” said Hammer in a cringing manner.
“Stow the act,” said Citizen V. He approached Hammer, brandishing the sword with confidence. “We know exactly who you are Hammer. Or should I say Baron Zemo?”
“What? I, I don’t know what you mean.” Justin Hammer raised his arms in a cowering fashion as he backed up.
Citizen V slashed the sword down for a killing stroke. “Have it your way! We’ll take your corpse as evidence!”
Remarkably, Justin Hammer moved forward at the last instant. Inside Citizen V’s stroke, he grabbed the sword arm on the downswing and, with strength that such an elderly man should not have possessed, stopped it. With his other arm “Hammer” shoved Citizen V in the chest while at the same time twisting his wrist, causing the sword to be dropped. Backing away from his disarmed opponent, “Hammer” effortlessly plucked the blade from mid-air and made a swing of his own.
“No!” Black Archer screamed. But the cry came too late. A splash of crimson, and Citizen V slumped to the feet of a shimmering figure, dead. Where Justin Hammer had stood, there was now Baron Helmut Zemo!
“It would appear the ruse is done,” Zemo said to Black Archer. He raised the sword. “But only if you live to tell others!”
“You can bet on that!” cried Black Archer. He fired an arrow while leaping, and Baron Zemo deflected it with a swing during his own leap. Black Archer shifted the grip on his bow and thrust it like a staff, with Baron Zemo no longer in a position to deflect it. The blow jabbed his ribs on the left side, causing Baron Zemo to fall sideways.
As he was smashing against the ground, Baron Zemo swung his sword for the feet. But Black Archer had driven his bow down, parrying the move. He then lashed out with a foot, kicking Baron Zemo viciously in the ribs. Rolling away from the attack, Baron Zemo jumped to his feet and held out his sword to keep Black Archer at bay.
“Impressive skills,” Baron Zemo said. “You fight with a style I recognize, that of Captain America! I know of only one archer he’s trained.”
Pausing in his attack, Black Archer removed his mask. The face he revealed belonged to Clint Barton, the Avenger known as Hawkeye. “You never had me fooled for a second, Zemo.”
“Oh? And did you always know of the spy I planted in your midst?” asked Baron Zemo, referring to the conflicted heroine known as Vagabond.
With a roar, Hawkeye rushed to the offensive. Baron Zemo slashed with his sword, but Hawkeye’s skill with a bow was not limited to archery. He had also been trained by one of the world’s greatest swordsmen, and he used those lessons to swiftly disarm Baron Zemo. It took three swings to the head to knock the villain unconscious, and Hawkeye added a fourth for good measure.
“The world thinks your dead, Zemo,” said Hawkeye to his beaten foe. “I could kill you right now, and nobody would ever know.”
Hawkeye knelt down, picked up the limp body, and threw it over his shoulder. “But I would. Taking you to trial suits me just fine.”
With one final, regretful glance at his fallen ally, Hawkeye took his prisoner and left.
“And scene.” Baron Zemo, in his Justin Hammer disguise, seemingly appeared from nowhere. “Impressive work.”
The fallen bodies of Quantum and Citizen V disappeared. In their place came into view an assortment of super-criminals, including a conscious Quantum. Standing against the wall were Goldbug, Mysterio, Mathemaniac, and the mutant Mesmero and Mentallo, the last of whom was breathing heavily.
“Thanks. For a second there I was worried about his psi-shields.”
“I was confident in your talents. Besides, if they failed Quantum would have killed them. The fool actually believed that trick works against a man able to teleport!”
Goldbug and Mysterio joined in the laughter. Mathemaniac, however, felt celebrating was premature. “You know, it won’t be long before he figures it out. He won’t just give up.”
“That was Hawkeye’s best shot. And now that I know he’ll be aiming for me, I’ll be more than prepared for the next. As I said, Mentallo, your efforts sufficed. In this, and hopefully, the other. A clever compromise, allowing me to spare valuable resources.”
“Please don’t dramatize this,” said Mesmero. “I could hypnotize the knowledge of your identity from all of us. Mentallo is making sure we don’t have evidence.”
“For your sake there had better not be,” Baron Zemo said. “Magneto shouts the truth and is ignored. The claims of other criminals will be no more credible. Besides, I would rather have you in my debt than in a grave.”
# # # # # # # # # #
The cold ice that surrounded it did little to impede Scourge. If anything, the cold heightened its functions, enabling Scourge to process information that much faster, to seek out and fight back against the virus that had affected its core processes. At the same time, Scourge was generating massive amounts of heat, melting away at the block of ice and toward freedom.
Finally, Scourge burst free from the expanding ice, landing on the floor several stories above where it had battled TESS-One. Though no longer functioning at super-conductor levels, Scourge continued to make progress against the invasive programming that prevented it from killing specific super-criminals. No. Scourge shook its head, thinking that wasn’t right. The rogue programming was what compelled it to kill super-criminals.
Both. Neither. Something was…was wrong. Scourge wasn’t…Scourge?
In his hands was the shotgun and it was rising. Scourge didn’t recall drawing it; the weapon had been useless against the robotic TESS- One. All that Scourge saw at the corridor’s end was a shattered window. Clearly there had been a fight, but the participants were gone now. So why was he pulling the trigger, blasting hellfire out of the shotgun into empty air?
For an instant a shape materialized in the window, outlined by hellfire. A creature of black and white, its chest blown outward, fell forward out of the building. Immediately Scourge recorded the image and ran it against his files, finding no match due to incomplete data.
Walking forward to the window’s edge, Scourge peered down. The creature was gone. Lying on the street was a bulky woman, someone different, and hanging from the edge was Gladiator. The main was screaming, a tormented wail that wasn’t just from the pain of his wounds. Scourge lowered the shotgun, prepared to end the life of another super-criminal. Yet oddly, the machine that had once been a man, the Fixer-turned-Techno-turned Scourge, found himself unable to act upon his forced programming.
Scourge met Gladiator’s eyes. Those anguished, dead eyes. Everything inside Scourge wanted, needed, to put a bullet between them. All except for a tiny sliver, far in the back of Scourge’s being. That part questioned, and it was enough.
Scourge turned away. There were others who deserved what he could offer.
# # # # # # # # # #
“Ahhh!” Atlas pulled his hand away. He had reached into the widening chasm inside the building, prepared to climb over with Songbird on his back. However the sudden cold burned his fingers to the bone and he stepped away quickly.
Before the eyes of Atlas and Songbird, a massive block of ice formed inside the chasm.
“More of Blizzard’s work,” said Atlas, fingers touching his lips.
“He didn’t cause this damage though,” said Songbird. “If anything, he’s created a patch. A second ago this building sounded like it was about to collapse.”
“So what, that mean’s he’s suddenly on our side? Blizzard obviously came here with Unuscione, and who knows who else, to attack us. Most likely it was one of our guys that did that, and Blizzard is just making sure the whole thing doesn’t fall on top of him!”
“That may be.” Songbird hopped off Atlas’ back. “And there’s no telling how long this will last. We need to get outside, reexamine things before we counter-”
Atlas drew back a fist a slammed it against the block of ice. There was a deep rumble, and some cracks appeared, but otherwise he had no effect. “We still have teammates in here. Boomerang’s lying in a coma! We can’t leave them behind.”
“I may not be Blizzard’s biggest fan right now, but he wouldn’t hurt Boomerang.” That was why the pair had been rushing towards the medical area. Songbird had suspected they would find Blizzard there. “For all we know the others are outside. Communications are jammed. At the least we need to get upstairs and safeguard Hammer.”
Atlas grit his feet and clenched his fists, but did reduce his size to eight feet. Much as he hated to admit it, Songbird was right. “Okay, but how do you propose we do that? The power’s out so that excludes the elevators, and I don’t trust the stairs right now.”
“Only the elevator cars are out,” said Songbird. “After we clear those we can climb the shaft.”
Atlas reduced size to normal and pressed his hands against the elevator doors. Once his fingers were squeezed in he grew, forcing the doors apart with his enhanced bulk. The growing continued as Atlas jumped into the elevator shaft until his shoulders were almost as wide as the space, allowing him to uncomfortably press against both sides with his arms and legs. Songbird jumped in after him, climbing onto Atlas’ shoulders and grabbing onto the emergency ladder.
“We’re in luck,” Atlas said. “I see the elevator below us.”
It promptly exploded. Through the fiery debris there were flying three shapes. Songbird and Atlas recognized the first as TESS- One, battling two they didn’t recognize immediately. One just appeared to be a man in a jet-pack, while the other was nearly as bulky as TESS- One, with elongated fingers and thin wings that beat rapidly.
“Beetle and Fixer!” Songbird exclaimed. Somehow she knew that the man inside the Beetle armor was Abe Jenkins, former teammate and lover.
“Keep them back,” said Fixer. An extension of his Tech-Pack had attached to TESS- One like a face-hugger. “I’ll need time to work with this.”
“My pleasure.” Beetle flew up at his former teammates. The elongated fingers of his armor were extended, crackling with electricity.
“If he hits us we’re dead,” Atlas started to say. Songbird had also opened her mouth, and her voice drowned out his words.
With her harness damaged, Songbird could no longer convert her screams into solid sound constructs. She still possessed her original Screaming Mimi powers, however, and used them to full effect upon Beetle. A wave of intense sound pounded at Beetle, in the precise note of F. Desperately fighting back the effects of nausea that Songbird could induce with that note, Beetle enabled his armor’s new sound-proof function. His wings also beat to produce a counter-frequency, fighting back the sheer physical force of her scream.
“Unh, nice try…” Beetle muttered through a clenched jaw that was fighting to keep in his stomach’s contents. But as he flew higher he saw Atlas leaning forward. It was then he realized that, while Songbird is immune to the effects of her scream, all others in the proximity are not as fortunate. Including her teammate.
The contents of Atlas’ enlarge stomach washed over Beetle. While the liquid couldn’t penetrate the armor, the pungent smell did. The invasion to Beetle’s nostrils shattered his own willpower, and so Beetle couldn’t control his own nausea. In insides of Abe Jenkins co-mingled with the insides of Beetle’s armor, sending his flight topsy-turvy. Beetle achieved a one-eighty, flying downward back toward Fixer and TESS- One.
The collision with his teammate caused Fixer to disengage from the machine. Hurtling itself against the side of elevator shaft, TESS- One struggled to compose itself. The last remnants of the machine were fading away, replaced fully by the mind of Overrider. But still the man/machine was reeling from the digital battle it had just fought, and so took the opportunity to blast a way to freedom.
His Tech-Pack having taken the brunt of Beetle’s impact, Fixer pushed his armored ally aside. Just in time he saw TESS- One flee, and fumed. “I’d almost had it! Taking that robot is our best chance at Hammer’s bodyguard!” He then noticed the vomit. “And this! You’re paying for my dry-cl-!”
A thunderous roar was the only clue of its coming. From below, from the side where TESS- One had blasted an opening, from other openings it tore into being, the branches of an immense tree closed in over Fixer and Beetle. From her perch on Atlas’ shoulder, Songbird saw the two men be enveloped. She smacked Atlas on his side of his head.
“Come on. We need to get moving.”
“One…minute…” Atlas spat out the last contents of his dinner. “I need to…recover.”
“Recover while you climb.” Songbird hopped off Atlas. Grabbing hold of the utility ladder, she climbed up the elevator shaft. “Something tells me Taproot isn’t paying attention to who’s friend and who’s foe.”
# # # # # # # # # #
Chunks of ice and masonry threw Scourge out of its reverie. TESS- One was back, or more precisely the deceased Overrider’s mind controlling the TESS- One robot. He was coming at Scourge and he was very, very pissed.
Understandable, Scourge decided as hellfire blasted from its shotgun. Previously this had no effect, but now Overrider stopped short.
“Do you believe in God?” asked Scourge. “Or that living things have souls? Because your approximation of a soul, your ‘programming’ if you will, appears to be rewriting that robot’s memory functions. Which is why I can now damage you, in spite of that adamantium shell.”
“Oh yeah, well, do you believe that you’re made of adamantium?” Overrider went all out with TESS- One’s weapon systems. Laser beams of impressive power sliced through Scourge, shredding the illusion of a white trenchcoat. “Because as long as you aren’t, this is my fight to lose!”
“And lose you shall, for my cause is righteous.” As Scourge said these words, it questioned them in the deepest recesses of memory. On two fronts Scourge was fighting. A laser beam slice through Scourge’s head, ruining the skull-like visage. Still, Scourge could see, and through the painless shredding of its body carefully leveled the shotgun. It fired, and a blast of hellfire washed over TESS- One. To the body it did nothing, but the mind and soul of Overrider was painfully scoured.
“Aarrgh!”
In the last vestige of humanity that was left of him, Overrider suffered. Part of him was fearful, more afraid than when Fixer was trying to rewrite the code data of his soul. The greater part was anger toward this creature that had driven Overrider to this state. His soul afire, Overrider flew at Scourge and they embraced.
A massive hand of adamantium closed over Scourge’s arm that wielded the hellfire shotgun. It snapped like something frail, the crushed and smoking shotgun fell. It bounced against the floor once and then teetered over the edge, before journeying down a rent formed by the machines’ conflict.
Struggle though Scourge did, it could not break from the unyielding grasp. There was another avenue open however. The exposed pieces of Scourge’s head moved as though of their own will, attaching to the body of TESS- One in much the same way Fixer’s Tech-Pack did earlier. If Overrider noticed this, he was too intent on crushing Scourge to care.
As Scourge was struggling to breach the shell of TESS- One to strike Overrider directly, and perhaps take the TESS- One body for itself, something inside questioned. What am I? The Scourge was a man, many men, yet this is a machine. A machine with rogue programming, fighting a machine with a man’s soul. That latter concept struck a cord with Scourge. What was it, or he, behind that programming?
In that moment of question, of free thought, the programming of Scourge broke down. Techno had returned, and he stared Overrider in the eye.
“Impressive optical relays,” Techno said with a sparkle in his own eye. That was a microscopic laser, feeding information in through the relay. Emotion was too powerful to push aside, but it could be misdirected. “You’ll see the corpse of your employer so clearly with them.”
Techno’s eye went dark. The robot ceased its struggling, went limp in Overrider’s arms. He let the inactive machine go and cursed himself for a fool. While he was wasting time, more of these intruders would have made their way upstairs. Justin Hammer was clearly their target, and as powerful as Quantum was, the bodyguard may not be enough. Stepping away from the ruin that had been Scourge, Overrider fired up his jet and rocketed upward.
When alone, Techno rerouted power and initiated self-repair. He stood on whole legs, his whole body shifting from the Scourge look to his own original, sleek design.
“Much better,” said Techno as he made a show of examining himself. “And yet…I so miss the old me.”
# # # # # # # # # #
“Make yourself useful!” Fixer yelled at Beetle. His Tech-Pack had become the ultimate weed-wacker, chopping off tree branches almost as fast as they could grow.
From the inner workings of the tree came its creator. Taproot exploded from the bark, striking Beetle before he could have answered.
“You think to tame nature!” Taproot pointed a long, willowy finger at Fixer. “Fool. Nature…is untamable!”
Every branch that Fixer had cut up sprouted additional branches. These grew into arms and legs, each cutting increasing in size until Fixer found himself surrounded by a dozen Taproot simulacrums. Fixer swung wildly with his multiple chainsaws, but succeeded at nothing save keeping them back.
“Would that you were as skilled with words as you were with wood,” said Fixer with a sly smile.
“I don’t need to make pretty speeches. Not while you’re surrounded by my power!” Electricity struck Taproot them, arcs of power brought down by a hovering Beetle. But will discomforted, Taproot showed no outward signs of pain. “The Earth…drinks up such power…every day. What you offer…is less than nothing!”
Falling past Beetle at just that moment was a damaged shotgun. It passed through the web of lightning and, upon ignition, exploded between the armored man and the arbored monstrosity. Something more than fire washed down over Taproot. Something that burned to his very soul.
“Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!”
Hellfire swept along each branch of the growing tree. As the simulacra caught ablaze, Fixer fashioned a jet pack and rose above the carnage. He joined Beetle, also remaining aloft albeit shakily. Together they flew higher as Taproot’s flaming tree and psyche chased after them.
“Every time I think we’re winning things somehow get worse,” said Fixer. The two found an opening out of the elevator shaft and veered into a battle strewn corridor. “There’s no way this building is going to survive much longer. We should leave, prepare to ambush Hammer if he manages to escape.”
Beetle shook his head at that. “That bastard’s too crafty, and besides we can’t just leave the rest of the team. You go and try to raise them electronically. I’ll stay here and search best I can.”
“Suit yourself,” Fixer muttered as Beetle flew through the ceiling. “I’ll be better off alone anyway.”
When Fixer turned his head to look for an escape window, he found Techno staring right at him.
“Hurrck!” Fixer tried to cry out, but faster than any human could move Techno had taken him by the throat. Immediately his Tech-Pack responded, though not in the way Fixer would have liked. It shifted along his body, also attaching it to Techno and, Fixer could see, caressing him almost like a lover.
“My my, but that handsome face looks familiar,” Techno said. His robotic face was one big smile. “And I remember you too, my lovely pack of technology.”
Techno moved closer, his face almost touching Fixer. Their eyes would have been locked, but Fixer’s were drifting, as was his mind. That had everything to do with the wiring drilled into his head.
“You are not Norbert Ebersoll. I know this because I’ve just remembered that I am Norbert Ebersoll. It’s a precious thing for a man to know who he is. That may be why I backed up my mind in the Tech-Pack, in the event of should anything like, well, what happened. But you I did not foresee, that my Tech-Pack would grab some nobody off the street and fill it with all that is me. And the likeness is…not a coincidence. Hnh, looks like even plastic surgeons can be replaced by machines.”
Fixer’s lips had started to move. Then words began to escape. “There. Download complete.” The body of Techno collapsed, leaving the true Fixer with his upgraded Tech-Pack. He looked up, through the hole that Beetle had politely left for him. “Now I can settle accounts like a proper man.”
# # # # # # # # # #
The state-of-the-art building that had served as Thunderbolts headquarters was shuddering as though it was constructed a hundred years ago with defective materials. Atlas was running in front of Songbird, and while the floor held under his weight she was terrified that her steps would be the last straw. Finally they were near the penthouse of their employer, Justin Hammer, maybe two floors up by Songbird’s reckoning. They’d encountered no one since Beetle and Fixer, which Songbird found both reassuring and worrisome. Where were their teammates?
There came a sudden chill in the air. Atlas cried out and fell backwards. Songbird had to jump to avoid his large frame. In the center of Atlas’ chest, denting the large ‘A’, was an icicle. Songbird cursed the answer to her question. Blizzard was a former teammate, a former lover, and was now clearly an enemy.
At the far end of the corridor stood Blizzard, and he wasn’t alone. Standing with him side-by-side were Speed Demon, Boomerang and Gladiator. Behind them was a man Songbird thought looked like Scarecrow, but it had to be someone else to the costume because the original Scarecrow was dead.
“Gladiator, Boomerang, what the hell are you doing?” Songbird yelled. Neither man looked right. Indeed, none of the men looked right. Their features seemed darker, gaunt, as though they hadn’t seen the sun in years.
For his answer, Gladiator rushed at Songbird, the blades on his wrists spinning. If he reached her Songbird knew she was dead, so she screamed. Waves of sound battered at Gladiator, and at note E should have made him experience a dizzying vertigo. But should Songbird saw he was struggling against the force of her voice, it was with a balance of control he shouldn’t have had.
The man dressed as Scarecrow pushed past Blizzard and Speed Demon. He made a gesture with his pitchfork that Gladiator couldn’t have seen, but the man reacted to it and stepped back. Songbird went quiet, aware of a chill in her bones that wasn’t the doing of Blizzard.
“Who are you?” Songbird asked. “What have you done to them?”
“I’m your bad little boy, mommy,” said Scarecrow in a trembling voice. The pitchfork lowered, its tips aimed at Songbird’s chest. His voice grew more forceful, bearing the ring of false bravado. “I’ve taken their souls and made them my toys. My gift after being punished. Don’t you remember?”
Songbird felt it then. A raw, uncompromising fear took hold of her heart and threatened to crush it inside her chest. Songbird felt a moistness down her legs and a weakness in her knees. In spite of all her efforts she wasn’t strong enough and collapsed. Scarecrow approached her struggling form, pitchfork leveled to strike.
“You’re not my mommy! Something else for me to play with!”
“Leave her alone!”
Atlas rushed forward, ten feet tall and still growing. His entire hand encompassed Scarecrow’s head, and when he pushed forward the rag doll went flying back with a sickening snap. It fell at the feet of its four soulless creatures, and tangle of mismanaged limps.
Reduced in size but still needing to crouch in the hall, Atlas helped Songbird to her feet. Boomerang was now walking towards them. He raised an empty hand, from which a black boomerang formed as though from nothing. Behind him, Speed Demon was reduced to a blur. He reappeared at the other end of the hall, behind Atlas and Songbird.
“Oh crap I think we’re dealing with dark magic,” said Atlas.
“What other kind is there?” Songbird whispered. “You grow. I’ll scream. We bring this building down and hope we survive.”
“Dumb plan.” Atlas started to grow nevertheless. “But then what other kind do we ha-aahh!”
The floor chose that moment to collapse, dropping Atlas and Songbird downstairs. Songbird acted fast, throwing herself to the side and rolling with the fall so that Atlas didn’t crash down on top of her. By some miracle the next floor didn’t give under the impact as Atlas landed on his shoulder, inches from Songbird’s head. He also narrowly missed Beetle and Fixer, who jumped back at the entrance of two Thunderbolts.
“I told you this job will finish itself,” Fixer said. “Next thing Zemo himself will drop in our laps.”
With the ringing in her ears Songbird didn’t hear any of that. She only saw the other ex-lover that had tried to kill her that day. “Is that freak with you?” she asked, referring to Scarecrow. “My god Abe, do you realize how many people are dead because of what you’re doing here?”
“Please don’t scream,” Beetle said. “My suit just finished cleaning itself. As for the dead, they all worked for Zemo, so excuse me if I don’t weep.”
“What are you talking about?” Songbird was on her feet. “Zemo’s dead. And besides, Hammer’s ego would never allow him to work with-”
“Hammer is Zemo,” Beetle cut in. “Or don’t believe me. Either way, you’re helping a terrorist run for President, and I have a problem with that.”
“Table the conversation.” Fixer stepped forward, a shield sprouting from his Tech-Pack. Instantly it was coated with ice. “We’ve found our teammates, except they aren’t.”
Blizzard stood at the edge of the hole Atlas made, blasting with sub-zero temperatures. Fixer countered with a microwave emitter, super-heating the air faster than it could freeze. Beetle raised an arm and aimed for the spot of ceiling beneath Blizzard, unleashing an electric burst. The electricity traveled up the cold super-conductor into Blizzard, shocking him.
“We need to clear back,” Songbird urged. Atlas had shrunk down and was complying, though he didn’t like the presence of Fixer or Beetle.
A good thing they moved away from the opening, because Boomerang attacked next. His signature weapons moved with a life of their own, actively avoiding Fixer’s laser beams. Songbird screamed, knocking the boomerangs aside with waves of sound. It served as a distraction however, giving Gladiator and Speed Demon the chance to jump down. They were joined by Scarecrow, fully recovered from Atlas’ assault.
“That Scarecrow did something to them. My screams don’t have any effect.”
“Then use this.” Fixer handed her a collar with a box attached to the front. “It’s a quick, inefficient fix, but should suffice for now.”
A loud hum signaled Beetle’s hover in mid-air. The constant rumbling made it difficult to stay afoot. From his armor’s elongated fingers came the crackling of electricity ready to be used. When Speed Demon ran, the electricity flew, and missed. Only Gladiator was hurled back. Scarecrow did not appear to be affected.
“Oww!” Atlas had rapidly grown in size, so that Speed Demon’s rapid-fire blows were little more than pin pricks. Every time Atlas tried to swat the speedster, he was somewhere else, battering away. “Stop moving, you!”
Something that resembled a fire house formed out of the Tech-Pack. Fixer aimed it at the floor in front of Atlas, spraying it with goo. “Once again, my blatant theft will save the day,” he said, referring to the goo that he had fashioned after the Trapster’s invention. Speed Demon found himself stuck fast, and Atlas’ open hand squashed him thoroughly.
“We need to keep moving back!” Songbird screamed, creating a force-field separating them from Scarecrow. “Outside we can fly to the roof, settle things with Hammer-”
“Zemo,” interjected Beetle.
“Whoever he is, we’ll settle things!”
“I would advise against going outside,” Fixer said. “A sniper almost got me. When I made a telescope I spotted Scourge.”
“Is everybody trying to kill us today?” said Atlas. “I’d half expect Mister White to show up.”
Scarecrow advanced on the pink force-field. He plunged the pitchfork into it, piercing the field. Songbird’s eyes widened and she screamed again, reinforcing the field. But against Scarecrow’s power, it seemed to just be melting away.
“I say we risk it,” said Beetle. “A nut job with a rifle I can understand.”
At just then, the rumbling became an explosion, ripping apart the floor beneath their feet. As everyone except Scarecrow leapt back, an inferno rose as though from the building’s depths. The fires weren’t hot, Atlas realized, and Songbird recognized the tree they were attached too.
“That’s Taproot. What…?”
“Some kind of grenade,” said Beetle. “I thought one of you threw it.”
Fixer saw the fire, knew what became of his shotgun, and said only, “We’re still here.”
“This building could fall any minute,” Songbird said. “We have to go. Get everybody out. Mister Hammer…”
“Do you honestly believe he’s still here?” Beetle asked. “Songbird, I didn’t just come here to unmask a criminal. What’s happened is terrible but there’s a reason it’s the four of us, here, with a chance to escape. Now, what do you want to do?”
Songbird looked again at the burning, growing tree. From deep inside it, she could imagine hearing a scream. Through the flames she could see Scarecrow, bathed in fire, and hoped that he was the one screaming. Finally, she answered Beetle.
“They can all go to hell.”
# # # # # # # # # #
Baron Zemo stood alone in his penthouse, mixing a drink as the rumblings increased in frequency. The others had left minutes ago, bereft of their knowledge about Justin Hammer. Except for Mentallo, of course, but Baron Zemo didn’t consider that an impediment to his plans.
“It would seem that I won’t be visited again tonight,” he said aloud. His bodyguard, Quantum, was also in the room but wasn’t human and thus Baron Zemo didn’t count him. “A pity that Scourge, or Techno or whatever Ebersol wants to call himself, didn’t make it. I would have very much liked to kill a man inside a machine.”
An ironic choice of words, for at that moment a corner of the room burst apart as TESS- One smashed up through the floor. “Sorry to intrude like this sir, but the building is under attack and – you!” Earlier, when Techno had planted a subliminal program into Overrider, he also made a subtle adjustment to the robot’s sensors. Overrider immediately saw that Justin Hammer was a hologram, super-imposed over the true form of Baron Zemo. “All this time I’ve been working for you, sacrificing my life for you! The son of a Nazi war criminal!”
“Oh dear. This was unexpected,” Baron Zemo said as he jumped to avoid the sudden barrage of firepower. Instantly Quantum had placed himself in harm’s way, hyper-teleporting so that his various duplicates were taking each shot meant for Baron Zemo.
Quantum now went on the offensive. The powerful alien was hyper-teleporting all around TESS- One, striking the robot dozens of times in seconds. Strong as Quantum was, his blows could do no damage to adamantium, but his main goal was to distract from Baron Zemo.
As for Baron Zemo, he strode over to bookcase and pushed back his copy of Mein Kampf. “It sounds as though you and the robot are closer than ever, Overrider?” The bookcase slid back, revealing a cache of weapons and other equipment, including a jet pack. There was another shake of the building, nearly causing Baron Zemo to drop the big gun he’d grabbed. “It’s a pity you have to die. In many ways you were my most powerful asset.”
“No!” Overrider lunged forward, arms extended in opposite directions. With his mind inside of a computer, patterns were calculated and predictions made. Each arm plunged through Quantum, catching him in mid-teleportation between two spaces. The alien screamed with two mouths, an arm through each of two chests, his body flickering between two places at the exact same moment.
“How dare you?” Baron Zemo raised the weaponized molecular rearranger, designed by Hammer Industries. “That was my plan if the alien ever had to be dealt with.”
Baron Zemo had familiarized himself with the TESS- One designs, and aimed for the area where central processing and memory were stirred. A new rumble threw off his aim however, so that the robot was struck full in the head. The adamantium briefly liquefied, hardening as it fell to hit the ground as indestructible tiny balls. Everything inside the shell was destroyed, leaving a headless yet functional machine.
Still carrying Quantum in twain with two useless arms, Overrider advanced. Baron Zemo prepared to fire another shot, but before he could the floor began to collapse. Fire erupted as though from the pits of Hell, all the burning sins of the building’s inhabitants accompanied by a high-pitched, tormented scream. The flames licked against the machine and Overrider stepped back as though burned.
Baron Zemo dropped his weapon and leapt away from the ever-widening maw. Through the flames he saw the skeletal branches of a growing tree, something he suspected was the work of Taproot. On a hunch, he extended an arm. From the barest tickle of fire, Baron Zemo felt a searing pain in the very core of his being.
With no outward sign of discomfort, Baron Zemo withdrew his hand. “You have my compliments, Scourge. That is a very effective use of hellfire.”
Turning from the burning remains of Taproot’s power grabbing the jet pack, Baron Zemo ran across the increasingly unstable floor. The ceiling was beginning to collapse in an uneven fashion, the walls starting to fold in on themselves. The conflict had grown more intense that Baron Zemo had anticipated. The building wouldn’t last long, and neither would he if he remained.
A shifting wall meant a bending window frame in which the shatterproof glass was poorly contained. Strapping the jet pack on, Baron Zemo threw himself against the window. It gave against the impact, at the same time Baron Zemo fired up the jet engine. He didn’t fall far before the pack’s thrust sent him up into the night sky.
As he flew up and away, Baron Zemo couldn’t resist a glance over his shoulder. The building that he’d made into a headquarters for his Thunderbolts was collapsing. If all had gone according to plan, his team would be found in the rubble, all dead. They had served their purpose, and would have only been a liability in Justin Hammer’s presidential campaign.
“Farewell, brave heroes,” said Baron Zemo, in a rehearsal for the eventual memorial. “Your sacrifice will not be forgotten. And it shall not go unanswered.”
# # # # # # # # # #
Next Issue: The surviving Thunderbolts respond!
“Quantum! Protect me!”
At Hammer’s side his bodyguard immediately appeared by teleportation. Quantum was a humanoid alien of large build, dressed in a garish costume that was considered a military uniform in his culture. With a thought his body was sheathed in an aura of fire and he took a step toward the threats.
“Oooh, scary!” Black Archer fired an arrow high at Quantum. It burst apart just above him, showering Quantum with a cloak of darkness. Just behind his first arrow, Black Archer fired another, this one a stunner arrow. There was a brief spark within the darkness, and then Quantum slumped out of it onto the ground, the red and white symbol on his chest scorched. “But a bodyguard that’s afraid of the dark isn’t much of a bodyguard.”
“Whatever you want, it’s yours,” said Hammer in a cringing manner.
“Stow the act,” said Citizen V. He approached Hammer, brandishing the sword with confidence. “We know exactly who you are Hammer. Or should I say Baron Zemo?”
“What? I, I don’t know what you mean.” Justin Hammer raised his arms in a cowering fashion as he backed up.
Citizen V slashed the sword down for a killing stroke. “Have it your way! We’ll take your corpse as evidence!”
Remarkably, Justin Hammer moved forward at the last instant. Inside Citizen V’s stroke, he grabbed the sword arm on the downswing and, with strength that such an elderly man should not have possessed, stopped it. With his other arm “Hammer” shoved Citizen V in the chest while at the same time twisting his wrist, causing the sword to be dropped. Backing away from his disarmed opponent, “Hammer” effortlessly plucked the blade from mid-air and made a swing of his own.
“No!” Black Archer screamed. But the cry came too late. A splash of crimson, and Citizen V slumped to the feet of a shimmering figure, dead. Where Justin Hammer had stood, there was now Baron Helmut Zemo!
“It would appear the ruse is done,” Zemo said to Black Archer. He raised the sword. “But only if you live to tell others!”
“You can bet on that!” cried Black Archer. He fired an arrow while leaping, and Baron Zemo deflected it with a swing during his own leap. Black Archer shifted the grip on his bow and thrust it like a staff, with Baron Zemo no longer in a position to deflect it. The blow jabbed his ribs on the left side, causing Baron Zemo to fall sideways.
As he was smashing against the ground, Baron Zemo swung his sword for the feet. But Black Archer had driven his bow down, parrying the move. He then lashed out with a foot, kicking Baron Zemo viciously in the ribs. Rolling away from the attack, Baron Zemo jumped to his feet and held out his sword to keep Black Archer at bay.
“Impressive skills,” Baron Zemo said. “You fight with a style I recognize, that of Captain America! I know of only one archer he’s trained.”
Pausing in his attack, Black Archer removed his mask. The face he revealed belonged to Clint Barton, the Avenger known as Hawkeye. “You never had me fooled for a second, Zemo.”
“Oh? And did you always know of the spy I planted in your midst?” asked Baron Zemo, referring to the conflicted heroine known as Vagabond.
With a roar, Hawkeye rushed to the offensive. Baron Zemo slashed with his sword, but Hawkeye’s skill with a bow was not limited to archery. He had also been trained by one of the world’s greatest swordsmen, and he used those lessons to swiftly disarm Baron Zemo. It took three swings to the head to knock the villain unconscious, and Hawkeye added a fourth for good measure.
“The world thinks your dead, Zemo,” said Hawkeye to his beaten foe. “I could kill you right now, and nobody would ever know.”
Hawkeye knelt down, picked up the limp body, and threw it over his shoulder. “But I would. Taking you to trial suits me just fine.”
With one final, regretful glance at his fallen ally, Hawkeye took his prisoner and left.
“And scene.” Baron Zemo, in his Justin Hammer disguise, seemingly appeared from nowhere. “Impressive work.”
The fallen bodies of Quantum and Citizen V disappeared. In their place came into view an assortment of super-criminals, including a conscious Quantum. Standing against the wall were Goldbug, Mysterio, Mathemaniac, and the mutant Mesmero and Mentallo, the last of whom was breathing heavily.
“Thanks. For a second there I was worried about his psi-shields.”
“I was confident in your talents. Besides, if they failed Quantum would have killed them. The fool actually believed that trick works against a man able to teleport!”
Goldbug and Mysterio joined in the laughter. Mathemaniac, however, felt celebrating was premature. “You know, it won’t be long before he figures it out. He won’t just give up.”
“That was Hawkeye’s best shot. And now that I know he’ll be aiming for me, I’ll be more than prepared for the next. As I said, Mentallo, your efforts sufficed. In this, and hopefully, the other. A clever compromise, allowing me to spare valuable resources.”
“Please don’t dramatize this,” said Mesmero. “I could hypnotize the knowledge of your identity from all of us. Mentallo is making sure we don’t have evidence.”
“For your sake there had better not be,” Baron Zemo said. “Magneto shouts the truth and is ignored. The claims of other criminals will be no more credible. Besides, I would rather have you in my debt than in a grave.”
# # # # # # # # # #
The cold ice that surrounded it did little to impede Scourge. If anything, the cold heightened its functions, enabling Scourge to process information that much faster, to seek out and fight back against the virus that had affected its core processes. At the same time, Scourge was generating massive amounts of heat, melting away at the block of ice and toward freedom.
Finally, Scourge burst free from the expanding ice, landing on the floor several stories above where it had battled TESS-One. Though no longer functioning at super-conductor levels, Scourge continued to make progress against the invasive programming that prevented it from killing specific super-criminals. No. Scourge shook its head, thinking that wasn’t right. The rogue programming was what compelled it to kill super-criminals.
Both. Neither. Something was…was wrong. Scourge wasn’t…Scourge?
In his hands was the shotgun and it was rising. Scourge didn’t recall drawing it; the weapon had been useless against the robotic TESS- One. All that Scourge saw at the corridor’s end was a shattered window. Clearly there had been a fight, but the participants were gone now. So why was he pulling the trigger, blasting hellfire out of the shotgun into empty air?
For an instant a shape materialized in the window, outlined by hellfire. A creature of black and white, its chest blown outward, fell forward out of the building. Immediately Scourge recorded the image and ran it against his files, finding no match due to incomplete data.
Walking forward to the window’s edge, Scourge peered down. The creature was gone. Lying on the street was a bulky woman, someone different, and hanging from the edge was Gladiator. The main was screaming, a tormented wail that wasn’t just from the pain of his wounds. Scourge lowered the shotgun, prepared to end the life of another super-criminal. Yet oddly, the machine that had once been a man, the Fixer-turned-Techno-turned Scourge, found himself unable to act upon his forced programming.
Scourge met Gladiator’s eyes. Those anguished, dead eyes. Everything inside Scourge wanted, needed, to put a bullet between them. All except for a tiny sliver, far in the back of Scourge’s being. That part questioned, and it was enough.
Scourge turned away. There were others who deserved what he could offer.
# # # # # # # # # #
“Ahhh!” Atlas pulled his hand away. He had reached into the widening chasm inside the building, prepared to climb over with Songbird on his back. However the sudden cold burned his fingers to the bone and he stepped away quickly.
Before the eyes of Atlas and Songbird, a massive block of ice formed inside the chasm.
“More of Blizzard’s work,” said Atlas, fingers touching his lips.
“He didn’t cause this damage though,” said Songbird. “If anything, he’s created a patch. A second ago this building sounded like it was about to collapse.”
“So what, that mean’s he’s suddenly on our side? Blizzard obviously came here with Unuscione, and who knows who else, to attack us. Most likely it was one of our guys that did that, and Blizzard is just making sure the whole thing doesn’t fall on top of him!”
“That may be.” Songbird hopped off Atlas’ back. “And there’s no telling how long this will last. We need to get outside, reexamine things before we counter-”
Atlas drew back a fist a slammed it against the block of ice. There was a deep rumble, and some cracks appeared, but otherwise he had no effect. “We still have teammates in here. Boomerang’s lying in a coma! We can’t leave them behind.”
“I may not be Blizzard’s biggest fan right now, but he wouldn’t hurt Boomerang.” That was why the pair had been rushing towards the medical area. Songbird had suspected they would find Blizzard there. “For all we know the others are outside. Communications are jammed. At the least we need to get upstairs and safeguard Hammer.”
Atlas grit his feet and clenched his fists, but did reduce his size to eight feet. Much as he hated to admit it, Songbird was right. “Okay, but how do you propose we do that? The power’s out so that excludes the elevators, and I don’t trust the stairs right now.”
“Only the elevator cars are out,” said Songbird. “After we clear those we can climb the shaft.”
Atlas reduced size to normal and pressed his hands against the elevator doors. Once his fingers were squeezed in he grew, forcing the doors apart with his enhanced bulk. The growing continued as Atlas jumped into the elevator shaft until his shoulders were almost as wide as the space, allowing him to uncomfortably press against both sides with his arms and legs. Songbird jumped in after him, climbing onto Atlas’ shoulders and grabbing onto the emergency ladder.
“We’re in luck,” Atlas said. “I see the elevator below us.”
It promptly exploded. Through the fiery debris there were flying three shapes. Songbird and Atlas recognized the first as TESS- One, battling two they didn’t recognize immediately. One just appeared to be a man in a jet-pack, while the other was nearly as bulky as TESS- One, with elongated fingers and thin wings that beat rapidly.
“Beetle and Fixer!” Songbird exclaimed. Somehow she knew that the man inside the Beetle armor was Abe Jenkins, former teammate and lover.
“Keep them back,” said Fixer. An extension of his Tech-Pack had attached to TESS- One like a face-hugger. “I’ll need time to work with this.”
“My pleasure.” Beetle flew up at his former teammates. The elongated fingers of his armor were extended, crackling with electricity.
“If he hits us we’re dead,” Atlas started to say. Songbird had also opened her mouth, and her voice drowned out his words.
With her harness damaged, Songbird could no longer convert her screams into solid sound constructs. She still possessed her original Screaming Mimi powers, however, and used them to full effect upon Beetle. A wave of intense sound pounded at Beetle, in the precise note of F. Desperately fighting back the effects of nausea that Songbird could induce with that note, Beetle enabled his armor’s new sound-proof function. His wings also beat to produce a counter-frequency, fighting back the sheer physical force of her scream.
“Unh, nice try…” Beetle muttered through a clenched jaw that was fighting to keep in his stomach’s contents. But as he flew higher he saw Atlas leaning forward. It was then he realized that, while Songbird is immune to the effects of her scream, all others in the proximity are not as fortunate. Including her teammate.
The contents of Atlas’ enlarge stomach washed over Beetle. While the liquid couldn’t penetrate the armor, the pungent smell did. The invasion to Beetle’s nostrils shattered his own willpower, and so Beetle couldn’t control his own nausea. In insides of Abe Jenkins co-mingled with the insides of Beetle’s armor, sending his flight topsy-turvy. Beetle achieved a one-eighty, flying downward back toward Fixer and TESS- One.
The collision with his teammate caused Fixer to disengage from the machine. Hurtling itself against the side of elevator shaft, TESS- One struggled to compose itself. The last remnants of the machine were fading away, replaced fully by the mind of Overrider. But still the man/machine was reeling from the digital battle it had just fought, and so took the opportunity to blast a way to freedom.
His Tech-Pack having taken the brunt of Beetle’s impact, Fixer pushed his armored ally aside. Just in time he saw TESS- One flee, and fumed. “I’d almost had it! Taking that robot is our best chance at Hammer’s bodyguard!” He then noticed the vomit. “And this! You’re paying for my dry-cl-!”
A thunderous roar was the only clue of its coming. From below, from the side where TESS- One had blasted an opening, from other openings it tore into being, the branches of an immense tree closed in over Fixer and Beetle. From her perch on Atlas’ shoulder, Songbird saw the two men be enveloped. She smacked Atlas on his side of his head.
“Come on. We need to get moving.”
“One…minute…” Atlas spat out the last contents of his dinner. “I need to…recover.”
“Recover while you climb.” Songbird hopped off Atlas. Grabbing hold of the utility ladder, she climbed up the elevator shaft. “Something tells me Taproot isn’t paying attention to who’s friend and who’s foe.”
# # # # # # # # # #
Chunks of ice and masonry threw Scourge out of its reverie. TESS- One was back, or more precisely the deceased Overrider’s mind controlling the TESS- One robot. He was coming at Scourge and he was very, very pissed.
Understandable, Scourge decided as hellfire blasted from its shotgun. Previously this had no effect, but now Overrider stopped short.
“Do you believe in God?” asked Scourge. “Or that living things have souls? Because your approximation of a soul, your ‘programming’ if you will, appears to be rewriting that robot’s memory functions. Which is why I can now damage you, in spite of that adamantium shell.”
“Oh yeah, well, do you believe that you’re made of adamantium?” Overrider went all out with TESS- One’s weapon systems. Laser beams of impressive power sliced through Scourge, shredding the illusion of a white trenchcoat. “Because as long as you aren’t, this is my fight to lose!”
“And lose you shall, for my cause is righteous.” As Scourge said these words, it questioned them in the deepest recesses of memory. On two fronts Scourge was fighting. A laser beam slice through Scourge’s head, ruining the skull-like visage. Still, Scourge could see, and through the painless shredding of its body carefully leveled the shotgun. It fired, and a blast of hellfire washed over TESS- One. To the body it did nothing, but the mind and soul of Overrider was painfully scoured.
“Aarrgh!”
In the last vestige of humanity that was left of him, Overrider suffered. Part of him was fearful, more afraid than when Fixer was trying to rewrite the code data of his soul. The greater part was anger toward this creature that had driven Overrider to this state. His soul afire, Overrider flew at Scourge and they embraced.
A massive hand of adamantium closed over Scourge’s arm that wielded the hellfire shotgun. It snapped like something frail, the crushed and smoking shotgun fell. It bounced against the floor once and then teetered over the edge, before journeying down a rent formed by the machines’ conflict.
Struggle though Scourge did, it could not break from the unyielding grasp. There was another avenue open however. The exposed pieces of Scourge’s head moved as though of their own will, attaching to the body of TESS- One in much the same way Fixer’s Tech-Pack did earlier. If Overrider noticed this, he was too intent on crushing Scourge to care.
As Scourge was struggling to breach the shell of TESS- One to strike Overrider directly, and perhaps take the TESS- One body for itself, something inside questioned. What am I? The Scourge was a man, many men, yet this is a machine. A machine with rogue programming, fighting a machine with a man’s soul. That latter concept struck a cord with Scourge. What was it, or he, behind that programming?
In that moment of question, of free thought, the programming of Scourge broke down. Techno had returned, and he stared Overrider in the eye.
“Impressive optical relays,” Techno said with a sparkle in his own eye. That was a microscopic laser, feeding information in through the relay. Emotion was too powerful to push aside, but it could be misdirected. “You’ll see the corpse of your employer so clearly with them.”
Techno’s eye went dark. The robot ceased its struggling, went limp in Overrider’s arms. He let the inactive machine go and cursed himself for a fool. While he was wasting time, more of these intruders would have made their way upstairs. Justin Hammer was clearly their target, and as powerful as Quantum was, the bodyguard may not be enough. Stepping away from the ruin that had been Scourge, Overrider fired up his jet and rocketed upward.
When alone, Techno rerouted power and initiated self-repair. He stood on whole legs, his whole body shifting from the Scourge look to his own original, sleek design.
“Much better,” said Techno as he made a show of examining himself. “And yet…I so miss the old me.”
# # # # # # # # # #
“Make yourself useful!” Fixer yelled at Beetle. His Tech-Pack had become the ultimate weed-wacker, chopping off tree branches almost as fast as they could grow.
From the inner workings of the tree came its creator. Taproot exploded from the bark, striking Beetle before he could have answered.
“You think to tame nature!” Taproot pointed a long, willowy finger at Fixer. “Fool. Nature…is untamable!”
Every branch that Fixer had cut up sprouted additional branches. These grew into arms and legs, each cutting increasing in size until Fixer found himself surrounded by a dozen Taproot simulacrums. Fixer swung wildly with his multiple chainsaws, but succeeded at nothing save keeping them back.
“Would that you were as skilled with words as you were with wood,” said Fixer with a sly smile.
“I don’t need to make pretty speeches. Not while you’re surrounded by my power!” Electricity struck Taproot them, arcs of power brought down by a hovering Beetle. But will discomforted, Taproot showed no outward signs of pain. “The Earth…drinks up such power…every day. What you offer…is less than nothing!”
Falling past Beetle at just that moment was a damaged shotgun. It passed through the web of lightning and, upon ignition, exploded between the armored man and the arbored monstrosity. Something more than fire washed down over Taproot. Something that burned to his very soul.
“Eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!”
Hellfire swept along each branch of the growing tree. As the simulacra caught ablaze, Fixer fashioned a jet pack and rose above the carnage. He joined Beetle, also remaining aloft albeit shakily. Together they flew higher as Taproot’s flaming tree and psyche chased after them.
“Every time I think we’re winning things somehow get worse,” said Fixer. The two found an opening out of the elevator shaft and veered into a battle strewn corridor. “There’s no way this building is going to survive much longer. We should leave, prepare to ambush Hammer if he manages to escape.”
Beetle shook his head at that. “That bastard’s too crafty, and besides we can’t just leave the rest of the team. You go and try to raise them electronically. I’ll stay here and search best I can.”
“Suit yourself,” Fixer muttered as Beetle flew through the ceiling. “I’ll be better off alone anyway.”
When Fixer turned his head to look for an escape window, he found Techno staring right at him.
“Hurrck!” Fixer tried to cry out, but faster than any human could move Techno had taken him by the throat. Immediately his Tech-Pack responded, though not in the way Fixer would have liked. It shifted along his body, also attaching it to Techno and, Fixer could see, caressing him almost like a lover.
“My my, but that handsome face looks familiar,” Techno said. His robotic face was one big smile. “And I remember you too, my lovely pack of technology.”
Techno moved closer, his face almost touching Fixer. Their eyes would have been locked, but Fixer’s were drifting, as was his mind. That had everything to do with the wiring drilled into his head.
“You are not Norbert Ebersoll. I know this because I’ve just remembered that I am Norbert Ebersoll. It’s a precious thing for a man to know who he is. That may be why I backed up my mind in the Tech-Pack, in the event of should anything like, well, what happened. But you I did not foresee, that my Tech-Pack would grab some nobody off the street and fill it with all that is me. And the likeness is…not a coincidence. Hnh, looks like even plastic surgeons can be replaced by machines.”
Fixer’s lips had started to move. Then words began to escape. “There. Download complete.” The body of Techno collapsed, leaving the true Fixer with his upgraded Tech-Pack. He looked up, through the hole that Beetle had politely left for him. “Now I can settle accounts like a proper man.”
# # # # # # # # # #
The state-of-the-art building that had served as Thunderbolts headquarters was shuddering as though it was constructed a hundred years ago with defective materials. Atlas was running in front of Songbird, and while the floor held under his weight she was terrified that her steps would be the last straw. Finally they were near the penthouse of their employer, Justin Hammer, maybe two floors up by Songbird’s reckoning. They’d encountered no one since Beetle and Fixer, which Songbird found both reassuring and worrisome. Where were their teammates?
There came a sudden chill in the air. Atlas cried out and fell backwards. Songbird had to jump to avoid his large frame. In the center of Atlas’ chest, denting the large ‘A’, was an icicle. Songbird cursed the answer to her question. Blizzard was a former teammate, a former lover, and was now clearly an enemy.
At the far end of the corridor stood Blizzard, and he wasn’t alone. Standing with him side-by-side were Speed Demon, Boomerang and Gladiator. Behind them was a man Songbird thought looked like Scarecrow, but it had to be someone else to the costume because the original Scarecrow was dead.
“Gladiator, Boomerang, what the hell are you doing?” Songbird yelled. Neither man looked right. Indeed, none of the men looked right. Their features seemed darker, gaunt, as though they hadn’t seen the sun in years.
For his answer, Gladiator rushed at Songbird, the blades on his wrists spinning. If he reached her Songbird knew she was dead, so she screamed. Waves of sound battered at Gladiator, and at note E should have made him experience a dizzying vertigo. But should Songbird saw he was struggling against the force of her voice, it was with a balance of control he shouldn’t have had.
The man dressed as Scarecrow pushed past Blizzard and Speed Demon. He made a gesture with his pitchfork that Gladiator couldn’t have seen, but the man reacted to it and stepped back. Songbird went quiet, aware of a chill in her bones that wasn’t the doing of Blizzard.
“Who are you?” Songbird asked. “What have you done to them?”
“I’m your bad little boy, mommy,” said Scarecrow in a trembling voice. The pitchfork lowered, its tips aimed at Songbird’s chest. His voice grew more forceful, bearing the ring of false bravado. “I’ve taken their souls and made them my toys. My gift after being punished. Don’t you remember?”
Songbird felt it then. A raw, uncompromising fear took hold of her heart and threatened to crush it inside her chest. Songbird felt a moistness down her legs and a weakness in her knees. In spite of all her efforts she wasn’t strong enough and collapsed. Scarecrow approached her struggling form, pitchfork leveled to strike.
“You’re not my mommy! Something else for me to play with!”
“Leave her alone!”
Atlas rushed forward, ten feet tall and still growing. His entire hand encompassed Scarecrow’s head, and when he pushed forward the rag doll went flying back with a sickening snap. It fell at the feet of its four soulless creatures, and tangle of mismanaged limps.
Reduced in size but still needing to crouch in the hall, Atlas helped Songbird to her feet. Boomerang was now walking towards them. He raised an empty hand, from which a black boomerang formed as though from nothing. Behind him, Speed Demon was reduced to a blur. He reappeared at the other end of the hall, behind Atlas and Songbird.
“Oh crap I think we’re dealing with dark magic,” said Atlas.
“What other kind is there?” Songbird whispered. “You grow. I’ll scream. We bring this building down and hope we survive.”
“Dumb plan.” Atlas started to grow nevertheless. “But then what other kind do we ha-aahh!”
The floor chose that moment to collapse, dropping Atlas and Songbird downstairs. Songbird acted fast, throwing herself to the side and rolling with the fall so that Atlas didn’t crash down on top of her. By some miracle the next floor didn’t give under the impact as Atlas landed on his shoulder, inches from Songbird’s head. He also narrowly missed Beetle and Fixer, who jumped back at the entrance of two Thunderbolts.
“I told you this job will finish itself,” Fixer said. “Next thing Zemo himself will drop in our laps.”
With the ringing in her ears Songbird didn’t hear any of that. She only saw the other ex-lover that had tried to kill her that day. “Is that freak with you?” she asked, referring to Scarecrow. “My god Abe, do you realize how many people are dead because of what you’re doing here?”
“Please don’t scream,” Beetle said. “My suit just finished cleaning itself. As for the dead, they all worked for Zemo, so excuse me if I don’t weep.”
“What are you talking about?” Songbird was on her feet. “Zemo’s dead. And besides, Hammer’s ego would never allow him to work with-”
“Hammer is Zemo,” Beetle cut in. “Or don’t believe me. Either way, you’re helping a terrorist run for President, and I have a problem with that.”
“Table the conversation.” Fixer stepped forward, a shield sprouting from his Tech-Pack. Instantly it was coated with ice. “We’ve found our teammates, except they aren’t.”
Blizzard stood at the edge of the hole Atlas made, blasting with sub-zero temperatures. Fixer countered with a microwave emitter, super-heating the air faster than it could freeze. Beetle raised an arm and aimed for the spot of ceiling beneath Blizzard, unleashing an electric burst. The electricity traveled up the cold super-conductor into Blizzard, shocking him.
“We need to clear back,” Songbird urged. Atlas had shrunk down and was complying, though he didn’t like the presence of Fixer or Beetle.
A good thing they moved away from the opening, because Boomerang attacked next. His signature weapons moved with a life of their own, actively avoiding Fixer’s laser beams. Songbird screamed, knocking the boomerangs aside with waves of sound. It served as a distraction however, giving Gladiator and Speed Demon the chance to jump down. They were joined by Scarecrow, fully recovered from Atlas’ assault.
“That Scarecrow did something to them. My screams don’t have any effect.”
“Then use this.” Fixer handed her a collar with a box attached to the front. “It’s a quick, inefficient fix, but should suffice for now.”
A loud hum signaled Beetle’s hover in mid-air. The constant rumbling made it difficult to stay afoot. From his armor’s elongated fingers came the crackling of electricity ready to be used. When Speed Demon ran, the electricity flew, and missed. Only Gladiator was hurled back. Scarecrow did not appear to be affected.
“Oww!” Atlas had rapidly grown in size, so that Speed Demon’s rapid-fire blows were little more than pin pricks. Every time Atlas tried to swat the speedster, he was somewhere else, battering away. “Stop moving, you!”
Something that resembled a fire house formed out of the Tech-Pack. Fixer aimed it at the floor in front of Atlas, spraying it with goo. “Once again, my blatant theft will save the day,” he said, referring to the goo that he had fashioned after the Trapster’s invention. Speed Demon found himself stuck fast, and Atlas’ open hand squashed him thoroughly.
“We need to keep moving back!” Songbird screamed, creating a force-field separating them from Scarecrow. “Outside we can fly to the roof, settle things with Hammer-”
“Zemo,” interjected Beetle.
“Whoever he is, we’ll settle things!”
“I would advise against going outside,” Fixer said. “A sniper almost got me. When I made a telescope I spotted Scourge.”
“Is everybody trying to kill us today?” said Atlas. “I’d half expect Mister White to show up.”
Scarecrow advanced on the pink force-field. He plunged the pitchfork into it, piercing the field. Songbird’s eyes widened and she screamed again, reinforcing the field. But against Scarecrow’s power, it seemed to just be melting away.
“I say we risk it,” said Beetle. “A nut job with a rifle I can understand.”
At just then, the rumbling became an explosion, ripping apart the floor beneath their feet. As everyone except Scarecrow leapt back, an inferno rose as though from the building’s depths. The fires weren’t hot, Atlas realized, and Songbird recognized the tree they were attached too.
“That’s Taproot. What…?”
“Some kind of grenade,” said Beetle. “I thought one of you threw it.”
Fixer saw the fire, knew what became of his shotgun, and said only, “We’re still here.”
“This building could fall any minute,” Songbird said. “We have to go. Get everybody out. Mister Hammer…”
“Do you honestly believe he’s still here?” Beetle asked. “Songbird, I didn’t just come here to unmask a criminal. What’s happened is terrible but there’s a reason it’s the four of us, here, with a chance to escape. Now, what do you want to do?”
Songbird looked again at the burning, growing tree. From deep inside it, she could imagine hearing a scream. Through the flames she could see Scarecrow, bathed in fire, and hoped that he was the one screaming. Finally, she answered Beetle.
“They can all go to hell.”
# # # # # # # # # #
Baron Zemo stood alone in his penthouse, mixing a drink as the rumblings increased in frequency. The others had left minutes ago, bereft of their knowledge about Justin Hammer. Except for Mentallo, of course, but Baron Zemo didn’t consider that an impediment to his plans.
“It would seem that I won’t be visited again tonight,” he said aloud. His bodyguard, Quantum, was also in the room but wasn’t human and thus Baron Zemo didn’t count him. “A pity that Scourge, or Techno or whatever Ebersol wants to call himself, didn’t make it. I would have very much liked to kill a man inside a machine.”
An ironic choice of words, for at that moment a corner of the room burst apart as TESS- One smashed up through the floor. “Sorry to intrude like this sir, but the building is under attack and – you!” Earlier, when Techno had planted a subliminal program into Overrider, he also made a subtle adjustment to the robot’s sensors. Overrider immediately saw that Justin Hammer was a hologram, super-imposed over the true form of Baron Zemo. “All this time I’ve been working for you, sacrificing my life for you! The son of a Nazi war criminal!”
“Oh dear. This was unexpected,” Baron Zemo said as he jumped to avoid the sudden barrage of firepower. Instantly Quantum had placed himself in harm’s way, hyper-teleporting so that his various duplicates were taking each shot meant for Baron Zemo.
Quantum now went on the offensive. The powerful alien was hyper-teleporting all around TESS- One, striking the robot dozens of times in seconds. Strong as Quantum was, his blows could do no damage to adamantium, but his main goal was to distract from Baron Zemo.
As for Baron Zemo, he strode over to bookcase and pushed back his copy of Mein Kampf. “It sounds as though you and the robot are closer than ever, Overrider?” The bookcase slid back, revealing a cache of weapons and other equipment, including a jet pack. There was another shake of the building, nearly causing Baron Zemo to drop the big gun he’d grabbed. “It’s a pity you have to die. In many ways you were my most powerful asset.”
“No!” Overrider lunged forward, arms extended in opposite directions. With his mind inside of a computer, patterns were calculated and predictions made. Each arm plunged through Quantum, catching him in mid-teleportation between two spaces. The alien screamed with two mouths, an arm through each of two chests, his body flickering between two places at the exact same moment.
“How dare you?” Baron Zemo raised the weaponized molecular rearranger, designed by Hammer Industries. “That was my plan if the alien ever had to be dealt with.”
Baron Zemo had familiarized himself with the TESS- One designs, and aimed for the area where central processing and memory were stirred. A new rumble threw off his aim however, so that the robot was struck full in the head. The adamantium briefly liquefied, hardening as it fell to hit the ground as indestructible tiny balls. Everything inside the shell was destroyed, leaving a headless yet functional machine.
Still carrying Quantum in twain with two useless arms, Overrider advanced. Baron Zemo prepared to fire another shot, but before he could the floor began to collapse. Fire erupted as though from the pits of Hell, all the burning sins of the building’s inhabitants accompanied by a high-pitched, tormented scream. The flames licked against the machine and Overrider stepped back as though burned.
Baron Zemo dropped his weapon and leapt away from the ever-widening maw. Through the flames he saw the skeletal branches of a growing tree, something he suspected was the work of Taproot. On a hunch, he extended an arm. From the barest tickle of fire, Baron Zemo felt a searing pain in the very core of his being.
With no outward sign of discomfort, Baron Zemo withdrew his hand. “You have my compliments, Scourge. That is a very effective use of hellfire.”
Turning from the burning remains of Taproot’s power grabbing the jet pack, Baron Zemo ran across the increasingly unstable floor. The ceiling was beginning to collapse in an uneven fashion, the walls starting to fold in on themselves. The conflict had grown more intense that Baron Zemo had anticipated. The building wouldn’t last long, and neither would he if he remained.
A shifting wall meant a bending window frame in which the shatterproof glass was poorly contained. Strapping the jet pack on, Baron Zemo threw himself against the window. It gave against the impact, at the same time Baron Zemo fired up the jet engine. He didn’t fall far before the pack’s thrust sent him up into the night sky.
As he flew up and away, Baron Zemo couldn’t resist a glance over his shoulder. The building that he’d made into a headquarters for his Thunderbolts was collapsing. If all had gone according to plan, his team would be found in the rubble, all dead. They had served their purpose, and would have only been a liability in Justin Hammer’s presidential campaign.
“Farewell, brave heroes,” said Baron Zemo, in a rehearsal for the eventual memorial. “Your sacrifice will not be forgotten. And it shall not go unanswered.”
# # # # # # # # # #
Next Issue: The surviving Thunderbolts respond!