Back to GatefoldIssue #2 by Liam Goncet
August 2017 |
Six Months Ago…
The Raft prison held some of the biggest and baddest super villains in New York City, most would question the idea of putting a bunch of powerful bad guys together in a maximum-security prison but placing it out in the middle of the sea seemed to make the idea more palatable to people. Besides, it was New York, most knew by now that the heroes that roamed the city would capture anybody who escaped and they’d be right back in The Raft before the guards had even noticed. That was the pleasant thing about being in a city full of heroes.
Across the way, in the much less hi-tech confines of Ryker’s Island, Wade Wilson, the mercenary known as Deadpool, looked out at the faint dot that he knew to be The Raft. “You know, I almost got sent there instead,” he said to a muscular man lifting weights behind him. “Apparently, I pissed off the judge by complimenting her on her large bazingas and she sent me here. I still think she knew that this damn collar only delays my healing factor instead of turning it off completely.” He tugged at the metal collar around his neck, “god, that was a painful first month.”
The man shook his head before setting the weights down and walking away from the yammering prisoner.
“Hey, don’t you want to finish your set, you only got to like thirty?” Wilson shouted as the man left the area, “Or maybe it was twenty.”
“Making all sorts of friends again, eh, Wilson.” Another man called out from afar as he approached. Both of his arms ended at the elbow and attached to each were plastic replacements for the wrist and hands.
“Scott, don’t make me shove another one of your fakes arms up your, very real, ass,” Wade responded.
The man was Douglas Scott, known in the criminal underworld as Razorfist and known to Deadpool as his reluctant friend, the only one he seemed to be able to make in his time at Ryker’s. As it turned out, most inmates didn’t care for Wade’s unceasing chatter, other than Douglas. The two were often mocked by the other inmates for their physical maladies and an odd bond formed between them.
“Anyway, thanks for getting me the bench,” Douglas patted Wilson on the back before starting his own set with the weights.
“Anytime pal, just remember you owe me your pudding at lunch and it better not be tapioca again,” the inmate warned.
“Wilson! You have a visitor!” A guard shouted out to the duo.
“Visitor? Who the hell would want to see your ugly face?” Razorfist quipped as he continued lifting.
“Your guess is as good as mine but let’s hope it’s a conjugal visit.” Wade made his way over to the guard, thoughts racing through in his head about who could possibly want to see him after all this time away but only one name stuck out.
The Raft prison held some of the biggest and baddest super villains in New York City, most would question the idea of putting a bunch of powerful bad guys together in a maximum-security prison but placing it out in the middle of the sea seemed to make the idea more palatable to people. Besides, it was New York, most knew by now that the heroes that roamed the city would capture anybody who escaped and they’d be right back in The Raft before the guards had even noticed. That was the pleasant thing about being in a city full of heroes.
Across the way, in the much less hi-tech confines of Ryker’s Island, Wade Wilson, the mercenary known as Deadpool, looked out at the faint dot that he knew to be The Raft. “You know, I almost got sent there instead,” he said to a muscular man lifting weights behind him. “Apparently, I pissed off the judge by complimenting her on her large bazingas and she sent me here. I still think she knew that this damn collar only delays my healing factor instead of turning it off completely.” He tugged at the metal collar around his neck, “god, that was a painful first month.”
The man shook his head before setting the weights down and walking away from the yammering prisoner.
“Hey, don’t you want to finish your set, you only got to like thirty?” Wilson shouted as the man left the area, “Or maybe it was twenty.”
“Making all sorts of friends again, eh, Wilson.” Another man called out from afar as he approached. Both of his arms ended at the elbow and attached to each were plastic replacements for the wrist and hands.
“Scott, don’t make me shove another one of your fakes arms up your, very real, ass,” Wade responded.
The man was Douglas Scott, known in the criminal underworld as Razorfist and known to Deadpool as his reluctant friend, the only one he seemed to be able to make in his time at Ryker’s. As it turned out, most inmates didn’t care for Wade’s unceasing chatter, other than Douglas. The two were often mocked by the other inmates for their physical maladies and an odd bond formed between them.
“Anyway, thanks for getting me the bench,” Douglas patted Wilson on the back before starting his own set with the weights.
“Anytime pal, just remember you owe me your pudding at lunch and it better not be tapioca again,” the inmate warned.
“Wilson! You have a visitor!” A guard shouted out to the duo.
“Visitor? Who the hell would want to see your ugly face?” Razorfist quipped as he continued lifting.
“Your guess is as good as mine but let’s hope it’s a conjugal visit.” Wade made his way over to the guard, thoughts racing through in his head about who could possibly want to see him after all this time away but only one name stuck out.
DEADPOOL #2
“Return of the Merc – Part Two”
Written by Liam Goncet
“Weasel,” Deadpool shouted as he made his way back into the room where his erstwhile best friend sat, typing away at his computer. “What have you got for us?”
“Uh…nothing yet it’s been five minutes, Wade. I can’t just go and look this type of thing up on Google,” he replied. “It shouldn’t take too long though, go watch TV or something if you’re bored.”
Deadpool paused for a moment before looking to Madrox and Strong Guy, both of whom were attempting to stifle their laughter. “Yeah, maybe I will.”
“Good,” was all the merc heard as he made his way back into the living room.
“Were you guys always like this?” A voice said from the couch.
“Gah!” Deadpool exclaimed before drawing his gun and pointing it at Peepers, the large-eyed mutant simply stared back, unfazed this go around. “Jesus, do you always look so unsettling?”
“I’ve been told I look better when I’m asleep.”
“Yeah, maybe you should go do that.” Deadpool said, sitting on the far end of the couch from the mutant.
“Look all I wanted to say was, you’re going about this all wrong. If you want Jack to trust you again you have to give him a reason to.”
Deadpool laughed before looking over at Peepers, an earnest expression on his face. “Uh, trust was never really my strong suit, especially with Weasel. I don’t like trust and trust doesn’t like me. Last time I trusted someone I ended up like this,” he removed his mask, revealing his horribly scarred face to Peepers, who recoiled at the sight. “Yeah, I’m somehow uglier than you…barely.”
“Okay, so this is hard but maybe trusting Jack is a step in the right direction, I mean he hasn’t betrayed you before or anything.”
“Actually…”
Before Deadpool could elaborate a loud “bingo” emanated from Weasel’s room.
“We got a location?” Deadpool excitedly asked.
“We sure do, your associate here has some real skills.” Madrox said as he began to exit the room.
“Ah, it was nothing. You should see me when I’m actually awake,” Weasel nervously chuckled.
“Alright then, let’s go down there and knock some sense into this creep,” Deadpool said, making his way towards the door.
“That’s not exactly easy, this isn’t some two-bit chump, this is a hired mercenary, a skilled one at that, ever hear of a guy named Bushwhacker?” Madrox asked before being drowned out by Deadpool’s loud laughter.
After what most would find to be an inappropriate amount of time, Deadpool finally stopped laughing. “He calls himself, bushwhacker?” Before he could even finish the line another roar of laughter emerged from him as the others in the room looked at each other in bewilderment. “Like, of all the fearsome names this guy chose, ‘bushwhacker!?’ Watch yourself or the dreaded Bushwhacker will come to trim your hedges and please your lonely wives!”
“Okay, are we done here?” Madrox questioned, impatiently.
“Sure, let’s go whack this guy right in the bush.” Deadpool said, opening the door and gesturing for Madrox and Strong Guy to exit first.
He began to follow out the door before stopping and turning back around, “Weaz, thanks for the help. I don’t know about you but I’ve missed having someone around who can easily help me acquire information, really helps the story move along.”
“Yeah, sure thing,” Weasel responded with a mixture of annoyance and confusion that he only seemed to feel when talking to Wade Wilson.
# # # # #
Far out in a deserted section of the woods stood a small cabin, one ravaged by age looking as though it might collapse if a large enough gust hit it directly. Inside of the tiny shack was a bed, unoccupied currently and a fireplace with a small flame lit inside, the only sign that someone was living here.
Before long, the door to the shack slowly creaked open and a battered man in a wife beater entered as he briefly looked around the small room. “You downstairs, boss?” The man said, knocking on one of the rickety floor panels near the wall.
After a moment, a section of the floor opened, filling the room with artificial light from below and another large man greeted the other one, half of his face scarred, he wore a large green military jacket that he hid his left arm inside. “You look like shit,” was all the man said.
“I’m sorry boss, some asshole mutants showed up at the house, they killed Robbie and I…” The battered man trailed off as he attempted to explain the whole story.
“What did you tell them?”
“N-nothing they can use against you. I told them we were selling MGH but I never mentioned you by name, boss.”
The other man sighed before pulling his left hand out of his jacket, revealing that part of his hand had taken the form of the barrel of a pistol. “Normally, I’d let it slide but I’ve got other people I must answer to, people who pay me to ensure that nothing is found out about this operation, you’ve jeopardized that.”
“Boss, no please, let me- “a shot through the head cut the man off as he fell to the floor with a loud thud.
The man known as Bushwhacker sighed again as he grabbed the man’s feet and began to drag him out of the cabin, if his assumption was right it wouldn’t be long before company arrived and he’d have to be ready for them.
# # # # #
Madrox and Strong Guy waited at the end of the hallway for their regrettable partner to make his way to them. Both men briefly stared at one another, sharing a look of worry about who they’ve decided to work with.
“Am I the only one who is super hungry right now?” Deadpool asked as he reached the other two mutants.
“Probably,” Madrox replied sternly.
“Look, fighting on an empty stomach is no laughing matter, that’s how you end up dead or, at the very least, severely grumpy.” He spoke as an expert on this particular subject. “Tell you what, there’s a Taco Hut right down the street that’s still open, I’m gonna go grab some grub for us.” As soon as the words left his mouth and the trio had made their way onto the street, Deadpool was off.
“Seriously?!” Madrox shouted out at the mercenary as he rounded the corner and disappeared.
“Did we just get ditched?” Strong Guy asked, confused by the increasingly ridiculous situation they had found themselves in.
Madrox stood still for a brief moment, a blatant attempt at keeping himself from screaming in frustration. “Who cares, let’s look on the bright side for once, we don’t have to worry about him screwing up our plans again.”
“Or he’ll find a way to screw them up even worse than he normally would have.” Strong Guy suggested.
Pure worry etched itself over Madrox’s face, “yeah, that’s also a possibility.”
# # # # #
It took the better part of an hour for the duo to find the ramshackle cabin that Bushwhacker was supposed to be residing in but there was no denying this was the location as a trail of blood led out of the cabin, down the steps and off into the woods.
“I know I’m not the detective here but that’s a bad sign, right?” Strong Guy mumbled, sarcastically.
Madrox ignored the comment as he directed his partner to watch the area and made his way up the steps as quietly as he could. Upon reaching the door, he slowly pushed it open to find a puddle of blood awaiting him in the center of the small room. Madrox stepped around the puddle and began investigating the area, tapping his foot to create a dupe to speed up the process a little.
“I think I found something,” the clone eventually said, motioning to a loose plank in the floor that revealed the tiniest glimmer of artificial light.
Outside, Strong Guy waited by the steps, keeping his eyes and ears out for any signs of their target. The sound of rustling in the nearby section of woods drew his attention long enough to not notice the appearance of Bushwhacker behind him.
“I didn’t think you’d be dumb enough to fall for that.” The man replied, his green army jacket stained with another man’s blood.
“Says the guy who decided to announce he was here before shooting me,” Strong Guy turned around and rushed his assailant. He took a bullet in the shoulder for his trouble but was able to get his hand on Bushwhacker’s gun arm before he could fire again.
The arm, currently shaped as a pistol, changed form in Strong Guy’s grasp before resembling the end of a machine gun. Bushwhacker gave a headbutt to the larger man but he was not phased and simply smirked.
“Looks like someone didn’t have the time to do his research,” Strong Guy absorbed kinetic energy and now it was time for him to redistribute it. “Head’s up, Jamie!” He called out as he nailed the man in his chest and sent him flying through the door of the cabin.
Despite the warning, Madrox was unprepared for Bushwhacker’s arrival as he barreled through the doorway, crushing it under his weight, and crashed into the detective, creating another clone of him from the force of the impact. The clone quickly got up and punched Bushwhacker in the face, holding their hand afterward.
“That really hurt, ow, why doesn’t anybody tell you that that’s going to hurt?” The clone paced around the room in pain, suddenly uncaring of the assassin he had jabbed in the jaw.
“What are you doing you moron, have you never hit anyone before?” Madrox shouted as he grabbed Bushwhacker’s gun arm to prevent him from shooting the dupe.
“I’m a pacifist, of course not.” The clone replied as Madrox got nailed with the assassin’s free arm and let go.
Bushwhacker stood up and positioned himself near the loose plank as Strong Guy entered through what was left of the doorway. “Let’s see if you can absorb this,” he smirked before opening fire on the whole room.
Strong Guy leapt out of the doorway and to the side, falling and crashing through the rickety deck of the small cabin. Madrox quickly rolled under the bed while his clone took the brunt of the damage, taking numerous shots to the body and collapsing to the floor dead. Before long, the clone disappeared.
Bushwhacker was confused by the disappearance but the thought quickly left his mind as he stalked over to the entryway, peering down over the hole in the deck created by Strong Guy and looking for his foe, who appeared to be absent.
Large hands grabbed around Bushwhacker’s ankles as he was sent face-first into what remained of the wooden steps and landed with a loud crunch onto the ground below. Strong Guy stalked over to the fallen enemy, noticing his arm once again transform, this time into something bigger. He realized what it was just in time to move away from the large burst of flame that emerged from Bushwhacker’s hand.
“A flamethrower, of course, why not,” Strong Guy muttered as a few of the trees began to ignite around them.
He kept his distance from Bushwhacker, unsure how to approach when everything around them was easily flammable. It quickly became apparent, however, that Bushwhacker had no interest in burning down the forest or Strong Guy but was aiming his stream of flames at the cabin itself.
“Looks like your friend is gonna need some help, unless he can pull a disappearing act like his double.” The two men shared a look at one another before Strong Guy stalked off towards the burning cabin, Bushwhacker briefly considered putting a bullet in his back but he had already wasted too much time.
Strong Guy attempted to enter the burning cabin but there was no clear path he could see inside due to the heavy smoke and raging flames. “Jamie,” he shouted out, an attempt to confirm his partner was still alive.
Soon, a figure could be seen in the flames carrying another body on its shoulder. Madrox made his way through the flames, the cabin collapsing not long after his exit, on his shoulder was another Madrox, blood had stained various portions of their shirt but they seemed to merely be unconscious.
“He went down into some secret basement, I found him knocked out down there,” the conscious Madrox sputtered in between large breaths of air.
Strong Guy looked between the two Madri for a moment before finally putting it together. “You’re the dupe then? Which means that the other Madrox that was battling with you…”
“Died, serves the idiot right” the apparent dupe interrupted. After catching their breath, the clone looked over at the main Madrox, still unconscious, “he’s gonna be alright, right?”
Strong Guy shrugged, “depends on how bad that dupe got it.”
“Not bad enough,” Madrox Prime muttered as he snapped his fingers and quickly reabsorbed his double, the blood that had been seeping out of his shirt stopped almost instantly but Madrox remained on the ground as he slowly sat up to look at Strong Guy.
“Anything good in that secret basement?”
“Yeah, exactly what we’ve been looking for but I’ll explain it on the way,” Madrox said as he wearily stood up. “I know exactly where Bushwhacker is heading.”
# # # # #
It took longer than expected for Deadpool to reach the location he was given, he was told it was a Roxxon warehouse that had been retrofitted into a holding cell and lab for mutants, the girl Madrox and his massive bodyguard were after would likely be inside. Naturally, the place was swarming with security, Deadpool counted nearly a dozen guards just outside, who knew how many were hanging out inside as well.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Deadpool said, speaking to no one in particular, “this is the type of situation where crazy, old Deadpool lobs a grenade at the guards or goes in guns blazing and causes a big scene because, who cares, right? Well, you’re dead wrong, pal. I’m not an idiot, I can do stealth missions if I need to and that’s exactly what I’m gonna do.”
A gun loaded right next to Deadpool’s ear and a very angry voice spoke up, “the fuck you doin’ here, freak?”
Deadpool looked at the man then back into the nonexistent audience, “well, there’s always next time.”
In one quick motion, Deadpool grabbed one of his katanas and swung at the man’s hand, cutting it off before he even had time to fire. His screams would alert the other guards but that didn’t matter much now.
“Shhh, it’s gonna be alright, just be glad I maimed you instead of outright killing you, some of your co-workers won’t be so lucky.” Deadpool pulled a grenade out of his belt and casually removed the pin before tossing it behind him and towards the entrance to the facility. “I’m gonna look so cool in about five seconds.” He’d say to the screaming guard before an explosion tore through the entrance of the warehouse, immediately blowing off parts of various guards who had begun exiting the building.
A chorus of screams filled the air as the remaining guards began to open fire on Deadpool’s position. The mercenary ducked behind a nearby rock, the stone wasn’t big enough to hide him completely but he was mainly protecting his head from any immediate fire as he pulled out his twin pistols and began firing back. His aim stayed true despite the occasional bullet hitting him and after a moment the shooting ceased as the remaining guards retreated back into the building. The screams were only louder now as Deadpool didn’t aim to kill on any of his shots.
“Look, I had to kill some of you, sorry about that but it’s what happens from time to time when you toss a grenade. What was I supposed to do, shoot all of you non-lethally?” He apologized to the fallen guards as he made his way into the building.
Deadpool entered only to have a gun drawn at his head, he quickly fired one of his pistols at the man’s knees, “too slow.” He laughed as the man fell to the ground in pain and rounded the corner only to be met with two more men wielding machine guns, the men opened fire as Deadpool rolled over to the wall.
“You guys really need to take a second and rethink your strategy here,” The mercenary replied before returning fire and hitting one of the two men in the leg. With his partner felled, the other man ran further down the hallway. “For instance, why run away when you know you’re just gonna get shot anyway.” Deadpool stepped out from the wall, taking a second to aim his pistol and fired at the man’s back, hitting his shoulder instead. “Damn, they can’t all be perfect shots, makes the action too dull.”
After being hit, the man fell against the wall, seemingly giving up as Deadpool strolled towards him whistling a tune that seemed vaguely familiar to the man. “Are…are you whistling ‘I Can’t Go For That?”
“Hey, nice catch, buddy, not only is it a great song by soft rock masterminds, Hall and Oates, but it’s a statement as well. See, I need some information.” Deadpool took his pistol and placed it under the wounded guard’s chin, “and not getting it? Well, I can’t go for that. No, no can do.” He took a moment to stop himself from reciting more of the song and spoke again. “Looking for a mutant girl, blonde hair looks like she decided to skip Taylor Swift and jump on the Sex Pistols bandwagon. I know she’s here, where are you keeping her?”
Before the man could reply there was a knock from the inside of a sealed metal door down the hall. Deadpool looked over in surprise before turning his attention back at the man, who shrugged. He grabbed the man and lifted him up, placing him in front as they moved further down the hall.
Upon reaching the door, Deadpool motioned for the man to open the door but all he got back was a blank stare. “Use your stupid code or card or whatever fancy tech this place uses for locks.”
“He doesn’t have one, he’s not a high enough rank.” A distinctly feminine voice said from behind the door.
Deadpool pushed the guard out of his way and looked through the tiny window on the door. Standing a bit away from the door was a young girl, barely in her tween years, her blonde hair was shorter than in the photo he saw but it was definitely Layla Miller.
She gave a small hand wave. “Hey there, Wade. Don’t waste time asking too many questions just trust that I know exactly who you work for and that you need to get me out of here in the next 5 minutes or you’re probably going to be in a huge pile of shit.”
# # # # #
Ryker’s Island
Six Months Ago…
Wade Wilson followed the guards through the cell blocks, enduring a string of vitriolic insults from the various prisoners still in their cells.
“You kiss your mother with that mouth or are you more of a kiss your sister type? Have you been reading the dictionary because your use of the word ‘dickbag’ is quite eloquent? The guy five cells down already used that one, try to keep the material at least as fresh as your underwear, muchacho.”
These and many other comebacks followed each insult, if there was one thing that Wade hadn’t lost in prison, it was his wit. By the time the guard took Wade into the meeting room he was cracking a smile and trying his hardest to keep his composure.
“You did your best, buddy. Let it all out, I won’t tell anyone,” Wade waited a moment as the guard burst out laughing. He gave a smile and entered the room, “I still got it.”
As soon as he entered, Wade was greeted by a man sitting at a metal desk, two folders were lying in the middle of the table, one was clearly his own, various pictures of him as Deadpool were spread out on the table. The other file remained closed for the time being.
The man wore a black suit with a white dress shirt underneath, his black hair was short but messy and he casually smoked a cigarette as he stared at Wade. After what seemed like ages he spoke with a clear English accent. “Wade Wilson, I’ve got to say the pictures do not do you justice. I mean, Christ mate, it’s a form of torture just having to look at your goddamn face, these prisoners should sue the state.”
“Do you always start off introductions with insults?”
“Only when I know the other guy can take it, now have a seat we got a lot to discuss.” Wade obliged the man, who grinned before putting out his cigarette. “The name’s Wisdom and I’m here to get you out of this hellhole.”
To Be Continued…
“Uh…nothing yet it’s been five minutes, Wade. I can’t just go and look this type of thing up on Google,” he replied. “It shouldn’t take too long though, go watch TV or something if you’re bored.”
Deadpool paused for a moment before looking to Madrox and Strong Guy, both of whom were attempting to stifle their laughter. “Yeah, maybe I will.”
“Good,” was all the merc heard as he made his way back into the living room.
“Were you guys always like this?” A voice said from the couch.
“Gah!” Deadpool exclaimed before drawing his gun and pointing it at Peepers, the large-eyed mutant simply stared back, unfazed this go around. “Jesus, do you always look so unsettling?”
“I’ve been told I look better when I’m asleep.”
“Yeah, maybe you should go do that.” Deadpool said, sitting on the far end of the couch from the mutant.
“Look all I wanted to say was, you’re going about this all wrong. If you want Jack to trust you again you have to give him a reason to.”
Deadpool laughed before looking over at Peepers, an earnest expression on his face. “Uh, trust was never really my strong suit, especially with Weasel. I don’t like trust and trust doesn’t like me. Last time I trusted someone I ended up like this,” he removed his mask, revealing his horribly scarred face to Peepers, who recoiled at the sight. “Yeah, I’m somehow uglier than you…barely.”
“Okay, so this is hard but maybe trusting Jack is a step in the right direction, I mean he hasn’t betrayed you before or anything.”
“Actually…”
Before Deadpool could elaborate a loud “bingo” emanated from Weasel’s room.
“We got a location?” Deadpool excitedly asked.
“We sure do, your associate here has some real skills.” Madrox said as he began to exit the room.
“Ah, it was nothing. You should see me when I’m actually awake,” Weasel nervously chuckled.
“Alright then, let’s go down there and knock some sense into this creep,” Deadpool said, making his way towards the door.
“That’s not exactly easy, this isn’t some two-bit chump, this is a hired mercenary, a skilled one at that, ever hear of a guy named Bushwhacker?” Madrox asked before being drowned out by Deadpool’s loud laughter.
After what most would find to be an inappropriate amount of time, Deadpool finally stopped laughing. “He calls himself, bushwhacker?” Before he could even finish the line another roar of laughter emerged from him as the others in the room looked at each other in bewilderment. “Like, of all the fearsome names this guy chose, ‘bushwhacker!?’ Watch yourself or the dreaded Bushwhacker will come to trim your hedges and please your lonely wives!”
“Okay, are we done here?” Madrox questioned, impatiently.
“Sure, let’s go whack this guy right in the bush.” Deadpool said, opening the door and gesturing for Madrox and Strong Guy to exit first.
He began to follow out the door before stopping and turning back around, “Weaz, thanks for the help. I don’t know about you but I’ve missed having someone around who can easily help me acquire information, really helps the story move along.”
“Yeah, sure thing,” Weasel responded with a mixture of annoyance and confusion that he only seemed to feel when talking to Wade Wilson.
# # # # #
Far out in a deserted section of the woods stood a small cabin, one ravaged by age looking as though it might collapse if a large enough gust hit it directly. Inside of the tiny shack was a bed, unoccupied currently and a fireplace with a small flame lit inside, the only sign that someone was living here.
Before long, the door to the shack slowly creaked open and a battered man in a wife beater entered as he briefly looked around the small room. “You downstairs, boss?” The man said, knocking on one of the rickety floor panels near the wall.
After a moment, a section of the floor opened, filling the room with artificial light from below and another large man greeted the other one, half of his face scarred, he wore a large green military jacket that he hid his left arm inside. “You look like shit,” was all the man said.
“I’m sorry boss, some asshole mutants showed up at the house, they killed Robbie and I…” The battered man trailed off as he attempted to explain the whole story.
“What did you tell them?”
“N-nothing they can use against you. I told them we were selling MGH but I never mentioned you by name, boss.”
The other man sighed before pulling his left hand out of his jacket, revealing that part of his hand had taken the form of the barrel of a pistol. “Normally, I’d let it slide but I’ve got other people I must answer to, people who pay me to ensure that nothing is found out about this operation, you’ve jeopardized that.”
“Boss, no please, let me- “a shot through the head cut the man off as he fell to the floor with a loud thud.
The man known as Bushwhacker sighed again as he grabbed the man’s feet and began to drag him out of the cabin, if his assumption was right it wouldn’t be long before company arrived and he’d have to be ready for them.
# # # # #
Madrox and Strong Guy waited at the end of the hallway for their regrettable partner to make his way to them. Both men briefly stared at one another, sharing a look of worry about who they’ve decided to work with.
“Am I the only one who is super hungry right now?” Deadpool asked as he reached the other two mutants.
“Probably,” Madrox replied sternly.
“Look, fighting on an empty stomach is no laughing matter, that’s how you end up dead or, at the very least, severely grumpy.” He spoke as an expert on this particular subject. “Tell you what, there’s a Taco Hut right down the street that’s still open, I’m gonna go grab some grub for us.” As soon as the words left his mouth and the trio had made their way onto the street, Deadpool was off.
“Seriously?!” Madrox shouted out at the mercenary as he rounded the corner and disappeared.
“Did we just get ditched?” Strong Guy asked, confused by the increasingly ridiculous situation they had found themselves in.
Madrox stood still for a brief moment, a blatant attempt at keeping himself from screaming in frustration. “Who cares, let’s look on the bright side for once, we don’t have to worry about him screwing up our plans again.”
“Or he’ll find a way to screw them up even worse than he normally would have.” Strong Guy suggested.
Pure worry etched itself over Madrox’s face, “yeah, that’s also a possibility.”
# # # # #
It took the better part of an hour for the duo to find the ramshackle cabin that Bushwhacker was supposed to be residing in but there was no denying this was the location as a trail of blood led out of the cabin, down the steps and off into the woods.
“I know I’m not the detective here but that’s a bad sign, right?” Strong Guy mumbled, sarcastically.
Madrox ignored the comment as he directed his partner to watch the area and made his way up the steps as quietly as he could. Upon reaching the door, he slowly pushed it open to find a puddle of blood awaiting him in the center of the small room. Madrox stepped around the puddle and began investigating the area, tapping his foot to create a dupe to speed up the process a little.
“I think I found something,” the clone eventually said, motioning to a loose plank in the floor that revealed the tiniest glimmer of artificial light.
Outside, Strong Guy waited by the steps, keeping his eyes and ears out for any signs of their target. The sound of rustling in the nearby section of woods drew his attention long enough to not notice the appearance of Bushwhacker behind him.
“I didn’t think you’d be dumb enough to fall for that.” The man replied, his green army jacket stained with another man’s blood.
“Says the guy who decided to announce he was here before shooting me,” Strong Guy turned around and rushed his assailant. He took a bullet in the shoulder for his trouble but was able to get his hand on Bushwhacker’s gun arm before he could fire again.
The arm, currently shaped as a pistol, changed form in Strong Guy’s grasp before resembling the end of a machine gun. Bushwhacker gave a headbutt to the larger man but he was not phased and simply smirked.
“Looks like someone didn’t have the time to do his research,” Strong Guy absorbed kinetic energy and now it was time for him to redistribute it. “Head’s up, Jamie!” He called out as he nailed the man in his chest and sent him flying through the door of the cabin.
Despite the warning, Madrox was unprepared for Bushwhacker’s arrival as he barreled through the doorway, crushing it under his weight, and crashed into the detective, creating another clone of him from the force of the impact. The clone quickly got up and punched Bushwhacker in the face, holding their hand afterward.
“That really hurt, ow, why doesn’t anybody tell you that that’s going to hurt?” The clone paced around the room in pain, suddenly uncaring of the assassin he had jabbed in the jaw.
“What are you doing you moron, have you never hit anyone before?” Madrox shouted as he grabbed Bushwhacker’s gun arm to prevent him from shooting the dupe.
“I’m a pacifist, of course not.” The clone replied as Madrox got nailed with the assassin’s free arm and let go.
Bushwhacker stood up and positioned himself near the loose plank as Strong Guy entered through what was left of the doorway. “Let’s see if you can absorb this,” he smirked before opening fire on the whole room.
Strong Guy leapt out of the doorway and to the side, falling and crashing through the rickety deck of the small cabin. Madrox quickly rolled under the bed while his clone took the brunt of the damage, taking numerous shots to the body and collapsing to the floor dead. Before long, the clone disappeared.
Bushwhacker was confused by the disappearance but the thought quickly left his mind as he stalked over to the entryway, peering down over the hole in the deck created by Strong Guy and looking for his foe, who appeared to be absent.
Large hands grabbed around Bushwhacker’s ankles as he was sent face-first into what remained of the wooden steps and landed with a loud crunch onto the ground below. Strong Guy stalked over to the fallen enemy, noticing his arm once again transform, this time into something bigger. He realized what it was just in time to move away from the large burst of flame that emerged from Bushwhacker’s hand.
“A flamethrower, of course, why not,” Strong Guy muttered as a few of the trees began to ignite around them.
He kept his distance from Bushwhacker, unsure how to approach when everything around them was easily flammable. It quickly became apparent, however, that Bushwhacker had no interest in burning down the forest or Strong Guy but was aiming his stream of flames at the cabin itself.
“Looks like your friend is gonna need some help, unless he can pull a disappearing act like his double.” The two men shared a look at one another before Strong Guy stalked off towards the burning cabin, Bushwhacker briefly considered putting a bullet in his back but he had already wasted too much time.
Strong Guy attempted to enter the burning cabin but there was no clear path he could see inside due to the heavy smoke and raging flames. “Jamie,” he shouted out, an attempt to confirm his partner was still alive.
Soon, a figure could be seen in the flames carrying another body on its shoulder. Madrox made his way through the flames, the cabin collapsing not long after his exit, on his shoulder was another Madrox, blood had stained various portions of their shirt but they seemed to merely be unconscious.
“He went down into some secret basement, I found him knocked out down there,” the conscious Madrox sputtered in between large breaths of air.
Strong Guy looked between the two Madri for a moment before finally putting it together. “You’re the dupe then? Which means that the other Madrox that was battling with you…”
“Died, serves the idiot right” the apparent dupe interrupted. After catching their breath, the clone looked over at the main Madrox, still unconscious, “he’s gonna be alright, right?”
Strong Guy shrugged, “depends on how bad that dupe got it.”
“Not bad enough,” Madrox Prime muttered as he snapped his fingers and quickly reabsorbed his double, the blood that had been seeping out of his shirt stopped almost instantly but Madrox remained on the ground as he slowly sat up to look at Strong Guy.
“Anything good in that secret basement?”
“Yeah, exactly what we’ve been looking for but I’ll explain it on the way,” Madrox said as he wearily stood up. “I know exactly where Bushwhacker is heading.”
# # # # #
It took longer than expected for Deadpool to reach the location he was given, he was told it was a Roxxon warehouse that had been retrofitted into a holding cell and lab for mutants, the girl Madrox and his massive bodyguard were after would likely be inside. Naturally, the place was swarming with security, Deadpool counted nearly a dozen guards just outside, who knew how many were hanging out inside as well.
“I know what you’re thinking,” Deadpool said, speaking to no one in particular, “this is the type of situation where crazy, old Deadpool lobs a grenade at the guards or goes in guns blazing and causes a big scene because, who cares, right? Well, you’re dead wrong, pal. I’m not an idiot, I can do stealth missions if I need to and that’s exactly what I’m gonna do.”
A gun loaded right next to Deadpool’s ear and a very angry voice spoke up, “the fuck you doin’ here, freak?”
Deadpool looked at the man then back into the nonexistent audience, “well, there’s always next time.”
In one quick motion, Deadpool grabbed one of his katanas and swung at the man’s hand, cutting it off before he even had time to fire. His screams would alert the other guards but that didn’t matter much now.
“Shhh, it’s gonna be alright, just be glad I maimed you instead of outright killing you, some of your co-workers won’t be so lucky.” Deadpool pulled a grenade out of his belt and casually removed the pin before tossing it behind him and towards the entrance to the facility. “I’m gonna look so cool in about five seconds.” He’d say to the screaming guard before an explosion tore through the entrance of the warehouse, immediately blowing off parts of various guards who had begun exiting the building.
A chorus of screams filled the air as the remaining guards began to open fire on Deadpool’s position. The mercenary ducked behind a nearby rock, the stone wasn’t big enough to hide him completely but he was mainly protecting his head from any immediate fire as he pulled out his twin pistols and began firing back. His aim stayed true despite the occasional bullet hitting him and after a moment the shooting ceased as the remaining guards retreated back into the building. The screams were only louder now as Deadpool didn’t aim to kill on any of his shots.
“Look, I had to kill some of you, sorry about that but it’s what happens from time to time when you toss a grenade. What was I supposed to do, shoot all of you non-lethally?” He apologized to the fallen guards as he made his way into the building.
Deadpool entered only to have a gun drawn at his head, he quickly fired one of his pistols at the man’s knees, “too slow.” He laughed as the man fell to the ground in pain and rounded the corner only to be met with two more men wielding machine guns, the men opened fire as Deadpool rolled over to the wall.
“You guys really need to take a second and rethink your strategy here,” The mercenary replied before returning fire and hitting one of the two men in the leg. With his partner felled, the other man ran further down the hallway. “For instance, why run away when you know you’re just gonna get shot anyway.” Deadpool stepped out from the wall, taking a second to aim his pistol and fired at the man’s back, hitting his shoulder instead. “Damn, they can’t all be perfect shots, makes the action too dull.”
After being hit, the man fell against the wall, seemingly giving up as Deadpool strolled towards him whistling a tune that seemed vaguely familiar to the man. “Are…are you whistling ‘I Can’t Go For That?”
“Hey, nice catch, buddy, not only is it a great song by soft rock masterminds, Hall and Oates, but it’s a statement as well. See, I need some information.” Deadpool took his pistol and placed it under the wounded guard’s chin, “and not getting it? Well, I can’t go for that. No, no can do.” He took a moment to stop himself from reciting more of the song and spoke again. “Looking for a mutant girl, blonde hair looks like she decided to skip Taylor Swift and jump on the Sex Pistols bandwagon. I know she’s here, where are you keeping her?”
Before the man could reply there was a knock from the inside of a sealed metal door down the hall. Deadpool looked over in surprise before turning his attention back at the man, who shrugged. He grabbed the man and lifted him up, placing him in front as they moved further down the hall.
Upon reaching the door, Deadpool motioned for the man to open the door but all he got back was a blank stare. “Use your stupid code or card or whatever fancy tech this place uses for locks.”
“He doesn’t have one, he’s not a high enough rank.” A distinctly feminine voice said from behind the door.
Deadpool pushed the guard out of his way and looked through the tiny window on the door. Standing a bit away from the door was a young girl, barely in her tween years, her blonde hair was shorter than in the photo he saw but it was definitely Layla Miller.
She gave a small hand wave. “Hey there, Wade. Don’t waste time asking too many questions just trust that I know exactly who you work for and that you need to get me out of here in the next 5 minutes or you’re probably going to be in a huge pile of shit.”
# # # # #
Ryker’s Island
Six Months Ago…
Wade Wilson followed the guards through the cell blocks, enduring a string of vitriolic insults from the various prisoners still in their cells.
“You kiss your mother with that mouth or are you more of a kiss your sister type? Have you been reading the dictionary because your use of the word ‘dickbag’ is quite eloquent? The guy five cells down already used that one, try to keep the material at least as fresh as your underwear, muchacho.”
These and many other comebacks followed each insult, if there was one thing that Wade hadn’t lost in prison, it was his wit. By the time the guard took Wade into the meeting room he was cracking a smile and trying his hardest to keep his composure.
“You did your best, buddy. Let it all out, I won’t tell anyone,” Wade waited a moment as the guard burst out laughing. He gave a smile and entered the room, “I still got it.”
As soon as he entered, Wade was greeted by a man sitting at a metal desk, two folders were lying in the middle of the table, one was clearly his own, various pictures of him as Deadpool were spread out on the table. The other file remained closed for the time being.
The man wore a black suit with a white dress shirt underneath, his black hair was short but messy and he casually smoked a cigarette as he stared at Wade. After what seemed like ages he spoke with a clear English accent. “Wade Wilson, I’ve got to say the pictures do not do you justice. I mean, Christ mate, it’s a form of torture just having to look at your goddamn face, these prisoners should sue the state.”
“Do you always start off introductions with insults?”
“Only when I know the other guy can take it, now have a seat we got a lot to discuss.” Wade obliged the man, who grinned before putting out his cigarette. “The name’s Wisdom and I’m here to get you out of this hellhole.”
To Be Continued…