Back to GatefoldIssue #11 by John Cheese
August 2017 |
“The Best Laid Plans...”
Chicago, Illinois
“Hello to all you guys out there surfing the internet. It’s your boys, Chemistro and Spear here, and do we have a spectacle for you today!” Daniels announced as he panned the camera towards where Luke Cage and Iron Fist were restrained, the former still frozen in a block of ice, while the later was unconscious and chained to a reinforced girder. “If you don’t know us, no bother because you’re gonna as we bring you the execution of the Heroes for Hire live streamed to your computer.”
“Daniels, we may have to drop the live streaming thing, mostly because Screwball has the copyright for the whole ‘Live Streaming Villain’ thing,” Chemistro mumbled from just off screen.
“Sweet Christmas, can you just hurry up and get this over with?” Luke Cage grumbled, as Spear placed the camera on a tripod. “Jeez you guys have been messing around for the last half an hour. If you idiots had any clue you’d have dropped me and Iron Fist before he woke up!” He spat as he looked over at the tranquilized Iron Fist. “I said before he woke up!”
“Nice try, but even Iron Fist can’t shake off the Hulk Grade Tranquilizers we got for this job.” Chemistro replied. “And hey we gave you our last slice of pizza so be a little more respectful.”
“You guys don’t deserve any respect, Crossfire I respect because he manages to hang around with you brain-dead morons and still look competent, but you two…you’re lackeys at best!” Cage snarled as the pair of villains levelled their weapons at him.
“Lackeys? Lackeys!!” Spear snapped. “Hey genius we caught you!” He spat as he opened fire with his launcher. As he did so, Chemistro saw Iron Fist’s hand twitch suddenly, and had enough time to yell a warning, before the hero snapped the chains binding him, and slashed out at the flying projectile, the blow shattering the spear in two midways down the shaft.
“Oh shi…” Chemistro swore, as Spear slipped his hastily repaired trident out of his quiver and spun it a wide circle before lunging at Iron Fist, only for his blow to be deflected before being sent backwards, the tip embedding into a support beam for the factory roof above them. Opening fire with his Alchemy Pistol, Chemistro watched as Iron Fist nimbly evaded his attack before grabbing him by the wrist and forcing the beam of energy to slice through the icy prison binding his partner, as well as leaving a burn mark through his shirt.
“About time, Fist.” Luke grumbled, as Spear let go of his trident and grabbed a handful of washers off one of the tables and flung them at Cage, the ad-hoc metal projectiles bouncing off his body and clattering to the floor. “What the hell did you think was going to happen with that?” Cage asked, as Iron Fist threw Chemistro onto his back. “Son you need to use your head in these things.”
“Who says I wasn’t.” Spear replied, as he wrenched his trident free. “Chemistro, light them up!” He yelled, as Chemistro aimed his alchemy pistol at the washers, the metal studs erupting into shards of flame as the beam passed over them, the heat effectively acting as a barrier between Cage and the other combatants. “It’s called a Thermite reaction, perhaps you’ve heard of it!” Spear snickered, the superior look on his face melting away as a foot impacted with his jaw.
“Yeah maybe I meant use your eyes genius.” Cage replied, as he stepped through the heat and grabbed Chemistro’s Alchemy Gun and crushed it with his bare hands. “So how do you like your humiliation?” He asked Chemistro as the villain rose and threw a punch at him, only for Cage to redirect him into the support that Iron Fist had been tied to only a minute or two before. “All in the face or somewhat mostly to the gut?”
“We’re not done.” Chemistro whispered, as Spear squeezed the cuffs of his gloves and released a pair of micro darts at Iron Fist. His knuckles glowing Iron Fist threw a punch at the projectiles, the darts vaporizing on contact. “Still not done.” He muttered as thick grey biting smoke poured out of his costume. Coughing and spluttering Cage felt his foe slip out of his grasp, and seconds later heard a car engine sound as he and Iron Fist emerged from the smoke filled interior to see tail lights retreating into the city.
“And don’t come back!” Cage yelled.
“You think they were on the ball with that ‘rule the world’ spiel they gave us?” Iron Fist asked.
“Nah, Cross and his guys are just a punch of punks, they got no drive besides money.” Cage replied as he cracked his knuckles. “Besides those guys are nothing without their toys.” He added sagely, as he threw the sputtering remains of the alchemy pistol into a nearby skip.
# # # # #
Private Clinic, Los Angeles
The smell of aftermath filled the ward as the elderly Baron von Blitzschlag worked on the woman tied to the bed, liquid metal running off her body and draining into a bucket on the floor. Behind him the attending nurse kept an eye on the magnetometer that monitored the subject’s electromagnetic flux radiated from the woman’s body.
“What…what’s happening?” Lodestone groaned as she moved slightly before looking over at her arm, the limb withering away as the magnetic ore that it was comprised of drained away. “My arm! No not again, please no!”
“That arm was merely a tool to get you into position for my client.” Blitzschlag told her as he gently sliced open her womb and slipped a pump into the incision. “A pawn to give my client what he needed to continue his lineage. I presume you remember Ai Apaec and his associate Mr Ramon.” He added as the door to the ward opened and a bare chested man dressed in leather trousers and a necklace with a cat’s head shaped amulet threaded on it.
“You said the baby would be here by the time I arrived for collection Blitzschlag!” Ramon hissed as he slipped his claws out and placed them under the Baron’s throat. “What is the hold-up?”
“The subject was harder to acquire then we thought. Plus she had already gone into labour by the time we caught up with her.” Blitzschlag announced, as he turned away from his work for a few seconds to shoot Ramon a withering glare. “The child is coming, but there are some complications. Due to the genetic crossing, the son Ai Apaec requested is actually a daughter.”
“A daughter! Please don’t send her away!” Lodestone gasped, only for Ramon to strike her on the face, a burning welt left on her face.
“Ai Apaec will take what he wants.” Ramon told her, as the Baron went back to work and pulled open a golden cocoon anchored by a strand of webbing from Lodestone’s womb. Swiftly he cut the cord, and placed the cocoon in Ramon’s arms as the gilded structure shook before uncurling into a golden skinned baby with uncanny gleaming eyes.
“Please let me…” Lodestone gasped only to be stopped as she saw the tools on Blitzschlag’s workbench shiver and embed into her skin causing her to scream out in pain. Reaching out with her own powers she gasped as she realised that her own abilities were gone, and that small metallic objects were orbiting her daughters head like a halo. “No, don’t take everything.” She whimpered, as Blitzschlag closed her wound.
“Put her back where you found her.” Ramon ordered, as he walked out of the ward with Lodestone’s daughter. Hesitating Blitzschlag looked over to his nurse and then back to Lodestone.
“Get O’Shay in here, I have a delivery I need made.” Blitzschlag stated, as he eyed the bucket of drained lodestone in the bucket at his feet. “We just may have enough here to make peace with Crossfire and his people.”
# # # # #
New York
The armed man threw the young Asian woman into the back of the van, before slamming the door shut as she attempted to escape, a delicate thud sounding against the back panel. Cocking the SMG he held he pressed the gun against the blacked out window to scare his captive, before being pulled back to face his employer.
“Be careful with the merchandise.” The Nautilus wheezed as he lifted the goon off the ground and looked him in the eye. “Unless you want to be sold to the Hand in her place?” He asked, the man in his grasp shaking his head before being dropped to the floor, the impact causing his leg to crack and for him to drop to the concrete, writhing in pain. “I didn’t think so, now pull yourself together and let’s get moving before…” He stopped as he looked around the docks, his eyes catching the last of his men being dragged behind some crates followed by the smell of ozone and a muffled scream. “Come out and I’ll be merciful.” The Nautilus ordered as he rotated the shoulder mounted canon of his armour to face the crates.
“Funny,” A female voice behind him stated causing him to turn just in time to see a boot slam into the armoured visor of his helmet, the acrylic concaving slightly at the point of impact, “you never showed mercy before.” The bald headed oriental woman dressed in shorts and a black t-shirt stated, as the Nautilus replied with a clumsy grab, the young woman vaulting over the blow with a series of gymnastic flips.
“I think you have me confused with someone else girlie!” Nautilus boomed, just as he the back door of one of the vans came flying towards him, the projectile cracking the suits power pack, smoke and sparks splurting from the damaged suit of armour. Turning slowly the Nautilus had just enough time to see a man in a shirt and suit trousers wearing a pair of heavy gauntlets rip the door off the second door, before barking something in Chinese at the women held inside.
“I doubt it Gabriel Mason.” The woman answered, her words causing the Nautilus to audibly gasp behind his helmet. “And we are not going to let you sell these women into slavery!”
“And I doubt that!” Mason snapped as he opened fire with the shoulder mounted grenade launcher, explosions rocking the docks as the male assailant leapt clear of the blast radius. Seconds later the woman had sprung onto his back and was ripping wires out of the damaged power-pack. Unable to reach Mason bucked and spun in an attempt to dislodge the lithe ‘jockey’ riding on his shoulders. “Get off you sli…” He snarled, before being tackled by the man, electricity sparking from his gauntlets and frying a number of systems in his armour.
“You’re on thin ice mate, I wouldn’t resort to the racist cracks if I were you.” The man announced as he reigned blow after blow onto Mason’s helmet and breastplate, the electrical discharge frying circuits and charring armoured plating with each savage blow. His armour wheezing and hissing, Mason retaliated and back-handed the man as he got to his feet, a gapping five inch hole in his suit’s chest.
“Liberal basterd!” Mason snapped, as the woman came skidding towards him, before spinning round and landing a close handed punch into the hole. With a hiss, the suit grabbed her and threw her away, her hand opening as she flew to reveal a contact strip to one of the grenades loaded into his power pack. Looking down, Mason swore and spat as the grenade blinked faster and faster, the suits emergency eject shuddering to life as he flopped out the back seconds before the explosive detonated, the blast blowing the Nautilus armour to pieces. Even before he could get to his feet, the woman was on him, her hands wrapped round a SMG, the barrel placed against his forehead.
“Who…who are you?” He wheezed.
“Kaiyo’s daughter.” The woman hissed.
“Let him live Makro!” The man ordered, as he gestured to the women in the vans that is was safe to come out.
“He killed my father Sneed, blood must be settled!” Makro hissed.
“Not like this, one a gun, come on you’re better than that.” Sneed replied. “And two, he’s going to need to talk in order to explain why he was loading teenage girls into these vans when the police arrive.”
“He still deserves to die!” Makro spat as she threw the SMG away and got up, a sigh of relief escaping from Mason’s lips.
“Maybe, but this was about justice not revenge right.” Sneed asked as the pair of them walked away from the Mason, the goon reaching out for the SMG, the sound of the barrel scrapping along the concrete almost muffled by the sounds of sirens and a busy New York City. Almost. Spinning round Sneed fired a blast of electricity at Mason, the discharge knocking him out before he could fire a single shot.
“Yeah I guess.” Makro sighed. “Thank you. Thank you for helping them.” She added gesturing to the liberated girls milling around Mason’s unconscious body.
“I didn’t do it for them.” Sneed replied softly.
“Then why?” Makro asked, a curious smile on her face.
“Because I like you.” Sneed answered before Makro stood on the tips of hertoes and delicately kissed him on the cheek.
“I like you too.” She added, as Sneed turned a bashful red. “So what’s next?”
“Coffee and a movie I think, I mean if we still have time before Cross needs us back.” Sneed told her.
“He can wait.” Makro purred, as the pair of them slipped, hand in hand, past the first police cruisers arriving at the scene.
# # # # #
Crosshair Solutions Cooperate Headquarters
Austin, Texas
Crossfire hated waiting, even when he knew he had to, his team had time still, but he expected them to wrap up their affairs before the full forty-eight hours was up. Doyle had arrived back promptly enough, stinking drunk as expected, and ranting about the price of beer in at least fourteen different European Counties. Likewise Chemistro and Spear had returned, sour faced and un-talkative, a blessed rarity considering how noisy the pair usually where. Secretly Crossfire knew what had gone on, and was secretly pleased that the pair had been put in their place, especially with the final operation about to occur.
“You’re almost late.” He mumbled as the doors to his office flew open with a slam and the Headhunter walked in, a nasty scar spread along her pale skin, fires of hatred blazing in her red eyes. “But I assume you have a good reason.”
“You bugged us you psychotic basted!” Headhunter spat as she slammed a fist down onto the desk before opening to reveal a tiny silver tear shaped chip. “What is this, a tracker, a brain washing implement, maybe a remote kill switch.”
“It’s fascinating.” Crossfire answered as his optics zoomed in on the device. “Where did you find it Gillette?”
“In my fucking brain!!” Gillette replied. “I wondered why my head hurt, why I was getting static when I used my powers, now I know!”
“Fascinating, but I can assure you this isn’t mine, at least not directly.” Crossfire answered as he shot a look at the scar on the Headhunter’s forehead. “True my company manufactured it, and while the idea did cross my mind to put failsafe’s into your bodies, I decided not to.”
“Well aren’t you a bleeding saint!” Gillette snapped sarcastically. “You know there’s a saying going round about you Crossfire, maybe you’ve heard of it.”
“Enlighten me.” Crossfire replied as he sat down in his chair, his hands held together before his throat, grim enjoyment and intrigue spread across his face.
“How do you know Crossfire is lying to you?” Gillette asked. “Simple, he’s breathing!” She replied as the sound of screams and crying sounded from the main atrium. Getting to his feet, Crossfire walked out to see Lodestone, dressed in a hospital gown clutching a skeletal arm formed of black ore with her remaining arm, tears running down her now all too human cheeks.
“I lost the baby!” Lodestone cried as she hung her head in shame, just as Spear and the Headhunter came to investigate the commotion.
“Gillette, if you could handle this.” Crossfire ordered stiffly. “Help her in anyway you can Daniels.” He added, as the later bent down next to his crying teammate, and helped her up.
“This isn’t over!” Gillette hissed under her breath, as she and Spear led Lodestone away.
Standing in the atrium alone, Crossfire was silent save for the cracking of his knuckles, his anger apparent despite the unfeeling look on his face. His plans were unravelling so close to fruition from forces both internal and outside his sphere of influence. Steeling himself he reassured himself as he walked back to his office. “If they were so desperate it meant only one thing.” He mused. “That they thought he had already won; Gillette’s discovery, Lodestone’s apparent blow, these were not roadblocks to his victory.” He added as he sat down and picked up the micro-transmitter the Headhunter had fished out of her brain. “They were merely speedbumps.”
“Hello to all you guys out there surfing the internet. It’s your boys, Chemistro and Spear here, and do we have a spectacle for you today!” Daniels announced as he panned the camera towards where Luke Cage and Iron Fist were restrained, the former still frozen in a block of ice, while the later was unconscious and chained to a reinforced girder. “If you don’t know us, no bother because you’re gonna as we bring you the execution of the Heroes for Hire live streamed to your computer.”
“Daniels, we may have to drop the live streaming thing, mostly because Screwball has the copyright for the whole ‘Live Streaming Villain’ thing,” Chemistro mumbled from just off screen.
“Sweet Christmas, can you just hurry up and get this over with?” Luke Cage grumbled, as Spear placed the camera on a tripod. “Jeez you guys have been messing around for the last half an hour. If you idiots had any clue you’d have dropped me and Iron Fist before he woke up!” He spat as he looked over at the tranquilized Iron Fist. “I said before he woke up!”
“Nice try, but even Iron Fist can’t shake off the Hulk Grade Tranquilizers we got for this job.” Chemistro replied. “And hey we gave you our last slice of pizza so be a little more respectful.”
“You guys don’t deserve any respect, Crossfire I respect because he manages to hang around with you brain-dead morons and still look competent, but you two…you’re lackeys at best!” Cage snarled as the pair of villains levelled their weapons at him.
“Lackeys? Lackeys!!” Spear snapped. “Hey genius we caught you!” He spat as he opened fire with his launcher. As he did so, Chemistro saw Iron Fist’s hand twitch suddenly, and had enough time to yell a warning, before the hero snapped the chains binding him, and slashed out at the flying projectile, the blow shattering the spear in two midways down the shaft.
“Oh shi…” Chemistro swore, as Spear slipped his hastily repaired trident out of his quiver and spun it a wide circle before lunging at Iron Fist, only for his blow to be deflected before being sent backwards, the tip embedding into a support beam for the factory roof above them. Opening fire with his Alchemy Pistol, Chemistro watched as Iron Fist nimbly evaded his attack before grabbing him by the wrist and forcing the beam of energy to slice through the icy prison binding his partner, as well as leaving a burn mark through his shirt.
“About time, Fist.” Luke grumbled, as Spear let go of his trident and grabbed a handful of washers off one of the tables and flung them at Cage, the ad-hoc metal projectiles bouncing off his body and clattering to the floor. “What the hell did you think was going to happen with that?” Cage asked, as Iron Fist threw Chemistro onto his back. “Son you need to use your head in these things.”
“Who says I wasn’t.” Spear replied, as he wrenched his trident free. “Chemistro, light them up!” He yelled, as Chemistro aimed his alchemy pistol at the washers, the metal studs erupting into shards of flame as the beam passed over them, the heat effectively acting as a barrier between Cage and the other combatants. “It’s called a Thermite reaction, perhaps you’ve heard of it!” Spear snickered, the superior look on his face melting away as a foot impacted with his jaw.
“Yeah maybe I meant use your eyes genius.” Cage replied, as he stepped through the heat and grabbed Chemistro’s Alchemy Gun and crushed it with his bare hands. “So how do you like your humiliation?” He asked Chemistro as the villain rose and threw a punch at him, only for Cage to redirect him into the support that Iron Fist had been tied to only a minute or two before. “All in the face or somewhat mostly to the gut?”
“We’re not done.” Chemistro whispered, as Spear squeezed the cuffs of his gloves and released a pair of micro darts at Iron Fist. His knuckles glowing Iron Fist threw a punch at the projectiles, the darts vaporizing on contact. “Still not done.” He muttered as thick grey biting smoke poured out of his costume. Coughing and spluttering Cage felt his foe slip out of his grasp, and seconds later heard a car engine sound as he and Iron Fist emerged from the smoke filled interior to see tail lights retreating into the city.
“And don’t come back!” Cage yelled.
“You think they were on the ball with that ‘rule the world’ spiel they gave us?” Iron Fist asked.
“Nah, Cross and his guys are just a punch of punks, they got no drive besides money.” Cage replied as he cracked his knuckles. “Besides those guys are nothing without their toys.” He added sagely, as he threw the sputtering remains of the alchemy pistol into a nearby skip.
# # # # #
Private Clinic, Los Angeles
The smell of aftermath filled the ward as the elderly Baron von Blitzschlag worked on the woman tied to the bed, liquid metal running off her body and draining into a bucket on the floor. Behind him the attending nurse kept an eye on the magnetometer that monitored the subject’s electromagnetic flux radiated from the woman’s body.
“What…what’s happening?” Lodestone groaned as she moved slightly before looking over at her arm, the limb withering away as the magnetic ore that it was comprised of drained away. “My arm! No not again, please no!”
“That arm was merely a tool to get you into position for my client.” Blitzschlag told her as he gently sliced open her womb and slipped a pump into the incision. “A pawn to give my client what he needed to continue his lineage. I presume you remember Ai Apaec and his associate Mr Ramon.” He added as the door to the ward opened and a bare chested man dressed in leather trousers and a necklace with a cat’s head shaped amulet threaded on it.
“You said the baby would be here by the time I arrived for collection Blitzschlag!” Ramon hissed as he slipped his claws out and placed them under the Baron’s throat. “What is the hold-up?”
“The subject was harder to acquire then we thought. Plus she had already gone into labour by the time we caught up with her.” Blitzschlag announced, as he turned away from his work for a few seconds to shoot Ramon a withering glare. “The child is coming, but there are some complications. Due to the genetic crossing, the son Ai Apaec requested is actually a daughter.”
“A daughter! Please don’t send her away!” Lodestone gasped, only for Ramon to strike her on the face, a burning welt left on her face.
“Ai Apaec will take what he wants.” Ramon told her, as the Baron went back to work and pulled open a golden cocoon anchored by a strand of webbing from Lodestone’s womb. Swiftly he cut the cord, and placed the cocoon in Ramon’s arms as the gilded structure shook before uncurling into a golden skinned baby with uncanny gleaming eyes.
“Please let me…” Lodestone gasped only to be stopped as she saw the tools on Blitzschlag’s workbench shiver and embed into her skin causing her to scream out in pain. Reaching out with her own powers she gasped as she realised that her own abilities were gone, and that small metallic objects were orbiting her daughters head like a halo. “No, don’t take everything.” She whimpered, as Blitzschlag closed her wound.
“Put her back where you found her.” Ramon ordered, as he walked out of the ward with Lodestone’s daughter. Hesitating Blitzschlag looked over to his nurse and then back to Lodestone.
“Get O’Shay in here, I have a delivery I need made.” Blitzschlag stated, as he eyed the bucket of drained lodestone in the bucket at his feet. “We just may have enough here to make peace with Crossfire and his people.”
# # # # #
New York
The armed man threw the young Asian woman into the back of the van, before slamming the door shut as she attempted to escape, a delicate thud sounding against the back panel. Cocking the SMG he held he pressed the gun against the blacked out window to scare his captive, before being pulled back to face his employer.
“Be careful with the merchandise.” The Nautilus wheezed as he lifted the goon off the ground and looked him in the eye. “Unless you want to be sold to the Hand in her place?” He asked, the man in his grasp shaking his head before being dropped to the floor, the impact causing his leg to crack and for him to drop to the concrete, writhing in pain. “I didn’t think so, now pull yourself together and let’s get moving before…” He stopped as he looked around the docks, his eyes catching the last of his men being dragged behind some crates followed by the smell of ozone and a muffled scream. “Come out and I’ll be merciful.” The Nautilus ordered as he rotated the shoulder mounted canon of his armour to face the crates.
“Funny,” A female voice behind him stated causing him to turn just in time to see a boot slam into the armoured visor of his helmet, the acrylic concaving slightly at the point of impact, “you never showed mercy before.” The bald headed oriental woman dressed in shorts and a black t-shirt stated, as the Nautilus replied with a clumsy grab, the young woman vaulting over the blow with a series of gymnastic flips.
“I think you have me confused with someone else girlie!” Nautilus boomed, just as he the back door of one of the vans came flying towards him, the projectile cracking the suits power pack, smoke and sparks splurting from the damaged suit of armour. Turning slowly the Nautilus had just enough time to see a man in a shirt and suit trousers wearing a pair of heavy gauntlets rip the door off the second door, before barking something in Chinese at the women held inside.
“I doubt it Gabriel Mason.” The woman answered, her words causing the Nautilus to audibly gasp behind his helmet. “And we are not going to let you sell these women into slavery!”
“And I doubt that!” Mason snapped as he opened fire with the shoulder mounted grenade launcher, explosions rocking the docks as the male assailant leapt clear of the blast radius. Seconds later the woman had sprung onto his back and was ripping wires out of the damaged power-pack. Unable to reach Mason bucked and spun in an attempt to dislodge the lithe ‘jockey’ riding on his shoulders. “Get off you sli…” He snarled, before being tackled by the man, electricity sparking from his gauntlets and frying a number of systems in his armour.
“You’re on thin ice mate, I wouldn’t resort to the racist cracks if I were you.” The man announced as he reigned blow after blow onto Mason’s helmet and breastplate, the electrical discharge frying circuits and charring armoured plating with each savage blow. His armour wheezing and hissing, Mason retaliated and back-handed the man as he got to his feet, a gapping five inch hole in his suit’s chest.
“Liberal basterd!” Mason snapped, as the woman came skidding towards him, before spinning round and landing a close handed punch into the hole. With a hiss, the suit grabbed her and threw her away, her hand opening as she flew to reveal a contact strip to one of the grenades loaded into his power pack. Looking down, Mason swore and spat as the grenade blinked faster and faster, the suits emergency eject shuddering to life as he flopped out the back seconds before the explosive detonated, the blast blowing the Nautilus armour to pieces. Even before he could get to his feet, the woman was on him, her hands wrapped round a SMG, the barrel placed against his forehead.
“Who…who are you?” He wheezed.
“Kaiyo’s daughter.” The woman hissed.
“Let him live Makro!” The man ordered, as he gestured to the women in the vans that is was safe to come out.
“He killed my father Sneed, blood must be settled!” Makro hissed.
“Not like this, one a gun, come on you’re better than that.” Sneed replied. “And two, he’s going to need to talk in order to explain why he was loading teenage girls into these vans when the police arrive.”
“He still deserves to die!” Makro spat as she threw the SMG away and got up, a sigh of relief escaping from Mason’s lips.
“Maybe, but this was about justice not revenge right.” Sneed asked as the pair of them walked away from the Mason, the goon reaching out for the SMG, the sound of the barrel scrapping along the concrete almost muffled by the sounds of sirens and a busy New York City. Almost. Spinning round Sneed fired a blast of electricity at Mason, the discharge knocking him out before he could fire a single shot.
“Yeah I guess.” Makro sighed. “Thank you. Thank you for helping them.” She added gesturing to the liberated girls milling around Mason’s unconscious body.
“I didn’t do it for them.” Sneed replied softly.
“Then why?” Makro asked, a curious smile on her face.
“Because I like you.” Sneed answered before Makro stood on the tips of hertoes and delicately kissed him on the cheek.
“I like you too.” She added, as Sneed turned a bashful red. “So what’s next?”
“Coffee and a movie I think, I mean if we still have time before Cross needs us back.” Sneed told her.
“He can wait.” Makro purred, as the pair of them slipped, hand in hand, past the first police cruisers arriving at the scene.
# # # # #
Crosshair Solutions Cooperate Headquarters
Austin, Texas
Crossfire hated waiting, even when he knew he had to, his team had time still, but he expected them to wrap up their affairs before the full forty-eight hours was up. Doyle had arrived back promptly enough, stinking drunk as expected, and ranting about the price of beer in at least fourteen different European Counties. Likewise Chemistro and Spear had returned, sour faced and un-talkative, a blessed rarity considering how noisy the pair usually where. Secretly Crossfire knew what had gone on, and was secretly pleased that the pair had been put in their place, especially with the final operation about to occur.
“You’re almost late.” He mumbled as the doors to his office flew open with a slam and the Headhunter walked in, a nasty scar spread along her pale skin, fires of hatred blazing in her red eyes. “But I assume you have a good reason.”
“You bugged us you psychotic basted!” Headhunter spat as she slammed a fist down onto the desk before opening to reveal a tiny silver tear shaped chip. “What is this, a tracker, a brain washing implement, maybe a remote kill switch.”
“It’s fascinating.” Crossfire answered as his optics zoomed in on the device. “Where did you find it Gillette?”
“In my fucking brain!!” Gillette replied. “I wondered why my head hurt, why I was getting static when I used my powers, now I know!”
“Fascinating, but I can assure you this isn’t mine, at least not directly.” Crossfire answered as he shot a look at the scar on the Headhunter’s forehead. “True my company manufactured it, and while the idea did cross my mind to put failsafe’s into your bodies, I decided not to.”
“Well aren’t you a bleeding saint!” Gillette snapped sarcastically. “You know there’s a saying going round about you Crossfire, maybe you’ve heard of it.”
“Enlighten me.” Crossfire replied as he sat down in his chair, his hands held together before his throat, grim enjoyment and intrigue spread across his face.
“How do you know Crossfire is lying to you?” Gillette asked. “Simple, he’s breathing!” She replied as the sound of screams and crying sounded from the main atrium. Getting to his feet, Crossfire walked out to see Lodestone, dressed in a hospital gown clutching a skeletal arm formed of black ore with her remaining arm, tears running down her now all too human cheeks.
“I lost the baby!” Lodestone cried as she hung her head in shame, just as Spear and the Headhunter came to investigate the commotion.
“Gillette, if you could handle this.” Crossfire ordered stiffly. “Help her in anyway you can Daniels.” He added, as the later bent down next to his crying teammate, and helped her up.
“This isn’t over!” Gillette hissed under her breath, as she and Spear led Lodestone away.
Standing in the atrium alone, Crossfire was silent save for the cracking of his knuckles, his anger apparent despite the unfeeling look on his face. His plans were unravelling so close to fruition from forces both internal and outside his sphere of influence. Steeling himself he reassured himself as he walked back to his office. “If they were so desperate it meant only one thing.” He mused. “That they thought he had already won; Gillette’s discovery, Lodestone’s apparent blow, these were not roadblocks to his victory.” He added as he sat down and picked up the micro-transmitter the Headhunter had fished out of her brain. “They were merely speedbumps.”