Back to GatefoldIssue #12 by John Cheese
September 2017 |
“Facades”
Brendon Doyle AKA the Mauler sat at the conference table as Crossfire went through the final preparations for the flight south to Antarctica. Doyle was many things; alcoholic, soldier of fortune and second rate pilot of a third rate Iron Man suit, but the one thing his employees all mentioned was his loyalty. Brendon Doyle, despite all his failings was loyal to a fault, and that was considered a good thing no matter who you were. So as Crossfire went over on route refuelling and weapons settings, the last person he had to worry about betraying him was Doyle.
That was if Doyle was currently in the driving seat of the Mauler armour. While it would be cruel to say that Doyle had contributed nothing to the heists and schemes of Crossfire and his gang of villains, he hadn’t contributed much thanks to his replacement. Like Doyle he was loyal to a fault, the only problem was that he was loyal to a different master.
# # # # #
Serbia-Kosovo Border - Three Months Earlier
The HYDRA troopers locked down the door into the communications tower with tremendous force, especially considering the size of the doors and their lack of super-powers. Welding the entrance shut, the doors held for eight long seconds as something heavy and loud cut through the locks, until with a boom, the steel plating shattered and the Mauler muscled his way through. Those agents not taken out by the doors inward explosion opened fire for two seconds apiece, the time it took for the armour’s shoulder mounted laser chain-gun to target them and fire, blood and seared flesh exploding inside their suits as the Mauler lumbered forward.
“Cross its Doyle, shutting down the station now.” The Mauler stated as he pulled a lever down followed by a brutal smash to a display showing a radio tower with green lighting sparking off of it. “HYDRA should be panicking just about now.”
“Very good, head to the basement area and plant Chemistro’s bombs.” Cross replied over the radio link. “Once your clear blow it and contact Lodestone, she knows where to put the tower once it’s ready for transport.” He added, as Doyle bent down next to a hatch in the floor before ripping it open and dropping down into the large space under the control room. Walking towards the steel base of the tower, he stopped as he heard a series of thuds radiate behind him, as at least four figure dropped down behind him.
“You HYDRA laddies don’t know when to quit do ya?” Doyle asked, a smile spread across his face behind his armour.
“That is HYDRA’s greatest asset and their most damming fault.” A soft almost flat voice stated. “We are not with HYDRA however, at least not directly.” It added as Doyle span round to see the four figure partially illuminated by the bunker’s emergency lights. As dark as it was, he could see that three of them at least were armed with whips or chains, something that made him think about his old acquaintance Marco Scarlotti and his apparent demise while working for Justin Hammer a year ago.
“Then who are ‘we’?” Doyle asked, as he locked onto the largest of the chain wielders.
“These gentlemen call themselves…” The unarmed figure began to say, until he was interrupted by a cough from the shortest member of the trio, “…gentlemen and lady are known as Razorwire. They share a name so decided to band together to gain fame and fortune, a curiosity in our line of work isn’t it.”
“Sure.” Doyle replied as he opened his radio link, only for a wave of static to wash over him and block his signal out. Seconds later the female Razorwire lashed out with a length of energized chain, the tips slashing over the chest of his armour. Reacting Doyle grabbed the whip and thrust down, the impact sending the woman crashing into the floor. As she hit the floor, the largest Razorwire came charging in, his motion causing Doyle’s shoulder mounted chaingun to spin up and fire a salvo of laser bolts at his attacker, the light released causing the Mauler to get glimpses of thick red armour accented with yellow before the man lashed out, the thick piece of wire he was armed with slashing through the shoulder joint and the gun positioned there.
“Be careful with the suit, it needs to be functional for the scan.” The unarmed figure stated, as the female Razorwire got back to her feet, her white ceramic armour sparking as she snaked her coil out and wrapped round the Mauler’s wrist, restraining the punch he was about to land on her compatriot. Snarling Doyle instead lashed out with his feet, the blow sending the heavily armoured Razorwire staggering back a few paces.
“If you need a scan of my armour then you might not know about this feature lassie.” The Mauler replied as he spun up the chain-saw blades in his gauntlets, the toothed blades cutting through the wire, although at the cost of the sharpness to the teeth’s sharpness. Looking at her coils, the female Razorwire looked over to the last member of the trio, the only one not wearing armour despite the barbed wire wrapped round his arms and trailing behind him like the tentacles of some monstrous jellyfish.
“Razorwire hook me up!” The woman called, as the armoured Razorwire lashed out once again, this time aiming for the legs and groin, the length of wire slashing through the plating but not quite penetrating the reinforced flight suit Doyle wore underneath his suit. Retaliating with a swift punch, Doyle watched as streams of wire slithered away from the unarmed Razorwire and hooked up to his female compatriot’s gauntlets. Slashing them with a quick crack, one fast enough to cause sparks to fly off the impact point, she attacked, the tips of the razor whips burrowing through the cockpit seems and up round Doyle’s arms and legs.
“Little pig, little pig…” She hissed, a hint of mania on her voice as she attempted to drag Doyle out of his suit, his gauntleted hand sliding forward, “…let me in.”
“Not by the hair of my Glock Eighteen!” Doyle spat as the integrated pistol in his armour popped up and fired three shots into Razorwire, the first cracking her suit’s and the second two smashing the connection points to her whips. “What do you say guys, shall we take this outside?” Doyle asked, as he ran towards the unarmed figure and the concrete wall out of the bunker. Crossing half way across the floor he felt something heavy tackle him to the floor, and watched as the largest Razorwire hooked his weapon under his arms, and dragged him to his feet.
“You leave when I allow it.” The unarmed figure stated, as he walked over to Doyle, his fingers removing a syringe from his belt. “I am Façade, and you should be honoured, I spent an age studying you, ready to add your face to the long list of men and women I’ve impersonated. Why you’ll be joining people like Justin Hammer, Baron Zemo even Norman Osborne in my repertoire.”
“Fuck off!!” Doyle spat, only for Façade to say the word at the same time, in an identical accent.
“See I know you’d say that.” Façade stated, as a strand of wire snaked across the floor and cut the sleeve of the exposed flight suit open to reveal a vein.
“Then you’ll know why I’m here.” Doyle hissed as he head-butted Razorwire behind him, the concussive force stunning the man long enough for Doyle to spin him around and stab a bayonet style mine into the left hemisphere of his helmet. Shaking the blow off Razorwire went to grab the Mauler, only for his foe to sweep his leg and knock him to the floor, seconds before the mine detonated, boiling acid eating away at his helmet and face. His opponent stunned, Doyle dashed past Façade and smashed through the wall and into the Serbian countryside. “Cross I’ve been ambushe…” He stopped as a whole spool of barbed wire swamped him, the strands of metal overwhelming him and dragging him back inside.
“I didn’t give you permission to leave.” Façade told him coldly, as the last remaining Razorwire commanded strands of his wire to cut through the edge of the helmet and expose his victims face.
“I want an eye for an eye.” He spat, as Façade found an exposed piece of flesh and stabbed the syringe in, blood filling the needle before it was removed.
“Let him watch, and then do what you want.” Façade ordered as he slotted the syringe into an electronic device in the back of his costume, the now sunlit chamber revealing a blank green mask and form fitting armour. After a few seconds the device chimed, and Façade removed his mask, a mirror image of Doyle’s face looking back at the captured villain. “Genetic camouflage, an inside man’s greatest tool.”
“Cross won’t fool for it, he’s smarter than you could ever imagine!” Doyle spat. “But why wait, let me loose boyo and I’ll kick you face in, no matter what shit eating grin it has on it.”
“I think not, look at your face.” Façade sighed as two strands of wire climbed up Doyle’s bound body and levelled themselves with his eyes, before pushing their way inside, optic fluid and blood leaking out of the sockets. “It’s the last one you’ll ever see.”
# # # # #
Crosshair Solutions Corporate Headquarters, Austin, Texas - Present Day
Crossfire dismissed his men and headed back to his office while they loaded the supplies required for the mission prior to their departure. He had managed to convince Gillette to come with him, and although she had been willing to do so in public, as soon as they left the others, rage and disgust spread across her features.
“I would like to thank you for bringing this to my attention.” Cross stated as he gestured to the tiny nano-chip suspended in an oil filled petri dish. “Your contribution to internal security has led to a discovery of the entire network of these devices. As you suggested, the chip is indeed a remote eavesdropping device, one that seemingly sends a telepathic signal back to its owner. It is that very reason that you could feel interference when you used your powers, the device obviously works on the same wavelength.”
“And this makes me trust you why?” Gillette sighed as she saw Crossfire bring out a series of MRI scans from a folder on his desk.
“Because I took the liberty of scanning my own brain for signs of infiltration.” Cross announced as he circled a teardrop shaped metallic object. “My suspicions were correct. We can assume that the enemy knows about our plans and is ready to react accordingly.”
“Or that you are throwing suspicion off of yourself.” Gillette muttered.
“Or that, but what would I gain from that so late in the operation?” Crossfire asked. “No, scans show the rest of the others are infected save for one of them. This person is quite a manipulator, there plan has unfolded almost without a hitch. We need to find the mole, but we also have to plan for additional interference at Mc Murdo and later on at Jotun’s Gate.”
“You speak of an enemy, and while I know we’ve made a few, I don’t know if any would actively be pursuing us.” Gillette stated, a look of disbelief on her face.
“Crime like nature abhors a vacuum, and with the defeat, albeit temporarily, of the likes of the Red Skull, Baron Zemo and others, a number of smaller operators have increased their operations quietly and under the radar of the FBI and SHIELD, as well as their rivals.” Crossfire announced as he placed one of his hands under the desk to remove a concealed USB key before placing it on the desk on-top of the MRI scan. “You mentioned earlier that you thought I was lying to you. Well in a sense you are right, this whole operation has been about something different then what I have been advertising to you and the others.”
“What?!” Gillette spat.
“Ruling the world is beyond what any group of villains can do, especially one this small.” Crossfire explained. “In other words it’s a façade designed to mask our real operation.”
“The data infiltration.” Gillette stated.
“In some aspects, the data will be useful for achieving our mission.” Crossfire announced, a worried smile on his face. “All you need to know is on that drive. It’s currently time locked, once the mission is finished it will unlock and you will be in charge of what happens next.”
“And why would you allow that?” Gillette asked.
“Simple I wouldn’t.” Crossfire replied. “But then ‘I’m breathing aren’t I.”
# # # # #
Lodestone had made up her mind on her future under Cross’s command, the moment she had tried to use her powers. They were still there, but so reduced that moving a waste-paper bin had caused a nose bleed, and a later test to try and catch one of Spear’s blunt tipped training projectiles had almost caused her to blackout. All her talk of being superior when she had more power than her teammates combined had evaporated away, and she was sure of repercussions. After the meeting she had slunk back to her room, gathered what little she had and headed for the atrium. Everyone else was occupied, and she made it to the labs before seeing another person.
“You’re leaving.” Chemistro stated as she snuck past the door, his back turned to her as he continued to work on re-creating his alchemy pistol.
“How did you…”Lodestone gasped, before seeing Chemistro point to the eye protection mirror mounted on the back wall opposite her. “I see.” She added sadly as her teammate put his tools down and turned to face her. “I can’t stay, I can’t do anything. Cross has to change his plan because of me, I’ve put everyone in danger because I lost my powers.”
“I know how you feel.” Chemistro replied, as he stepped aside to reveal an energy cell hooked up to a barrel and stock. “I repaired the original alchemy pistol after it overload, bent or overheated, but making a new one…far beyond me.”
“Is it the same? You were someone before you got that gun.” Lodestone replied sadly as she stood in the doorway to the lab. “Who was I? Just Andrea Haggard, a bad wife, a substandard mother and a naïve assistant to a marvellous man. When he looked at me and told me I was somebody, I believed him, and that means that I must have been no-one before that. Lodestone saved me from being nothing, and now she’s dead.”
“I not going to lie, when we first met I didn’t like you.” Chemistro stated bluntly. “Daniels really didn’t, and don’t get me started on the vulgar things Makro called you. Honestly Lodestone was a bitch who only knew how to be a bitch. She wasn’t humble, wasn’t pleasant to be around and quite honestly creepy, although I suspect that was mostly the pregnancy hormones talking. And as for Andrea…” He stopped and smiled at the woman dressed in dungarees and a bulky trainers, her purple hair ruffled and her face stained by tear streaks, “…I didn’t know her, but I suspect she was better than this so called ‘saviour’ of hers. Too bad I’ll never get to know.” He added as he went back to his work.
“I’m sorry.” Lodestone whispered. “I wish I could go back and change everything.”
“Apology accepted.” Chemistro told her. “We’re different people in costume. I hate my brother, but right now I’d not only apologise to him, but give my eye-teeth for his help in creating a new Alchemy Gun. Speaking of help, before you leave Sneed and I were working on something for a client. Since we’re going to ‘white hell’ perhaps you could deliver it.” He asked as Lodestone wearily walked into the lab. “It’s up there.” He added, as he gestured to a cabinet with the screwdriver he was holding. Hesitantly Lodestone opened the cabinet and gasped as she saw a wide shoulder guard with wires sticking out of it, running to a wrist bracer.
“Who is it going to?” Lodestone gasped, as she turned the device over in her human hand.
“Some nobody called Andrea.” Chemistro replied. Seconds later he felt a cold stone arm wrap round him as Lodestone gave him a massive hug.
“Why? I was horrible to you, and to Sneed and well everyone?” Andrea asked as she released him from her grasp.
“Because you’re on a team, and like it not, we’re almost family. I mean we live together, eat together and fight together.” Chemistro replied.
“Not to mention suffer through Daniels ‘Yellow Cat’ obsession.” Lodestone added snidely, but with the warmest smile she’d showed for a long time.
“Actually Season Two wasn’t too bad, but yes that too.” Chemistro sighed, as he slotted a matter converting beam splitter to the barrel of his gun. “I couldn’t let my team-mate suffer, no matter what everyone else thinks.” He added as the Headhunter walked past the door before looking in, an odd look on her face. “We trust each other, we know that everyone else has out backs, isn’t that right Gillette?”
“We leave in an hour.” Gillette responded stiffly before stalking off, her head hung low. Any trust she had was gone, any emotion besides worry and paranoia showing on her face nothing but a well-constructed façade.
That was if Doyle was currently in the driving seat of the Mauler armour. While it would be cruel to say that Doyle had contributed nothing to the heists and schemes of Crossfire and his gang of villains, he hadn’t contributed much thanks to his replacement. Like Doyle he was loyal to a fault, the only problem was that he was loyal to a different master.
# # # # #
Serbia-Kosovo Border - Three Months Earlier
The HYDRA troopers locked down the door into the communications tower with tremendous force, especially considering the size of the doors and their lack of super-powers. Welding the entrance shut, the doors held for eight long seconds as something heavy and loud cut through the locks, until with a boom, the steel plating shattered and the Mauler muscled his way through. Those agents not taken out by the doors inward explosion opened fire for two seconds apiece, the time it took for the armour’s shoulder mounted laser chain-gun to target them and fire, blood and seared flesh exploding inside their suits as the Mauler lumbered forward.
“Cross its Doyle, shutting down the station now.” The Mauler stated as he pulled a lever down followed by a brutal smash to a display showing a radio tower with green lighting sparking off of it. “HYDRA should be panicking just about now.”
“Very good, head to the basement area and plant Chemistro’s bombs.” Cross replied over the radio link. “Once your clear blow it and contact Lodestone, she knows where to put the tower once it’s ready for transport.” He added, as Doyle bent down next to a hatch in the floor before ripping it open and dropping down into the large space under the control room. Walking towards the steel base of the tower, he stopped as he heard a series of thuds radiate behind him, as at least four figure dropped down behind him.
“You HYDRA laddies don’t know when to quit do ya?” Doyle asked, a smile spread across his face behind his armour.
“That is HYDRA’s greatest asset and their most damming fault.” A soft almost flat voice stated. “We are not with HYDRA however, at least not directly.” It added as Doyle span round to see the four figure partially illuminated by the bunker’s emergency lights. As dark as it was, he could see that three of them at least were armed with whips or chains, something that made him think about his old acquaintance Marco Scarlotti and his apparent demise while working for Justin Hammer a year ago.
“Then who are ‘we’?” Doyle asked, as he locked onto the largest of the chain wielders.
“These gentlemen call themselves…” The unarmed figure began to say, until he was interrupted by a cough from the shortest member of the trio, “…gentlemen and lady are known as Razorwire. They share a name so decided to band together to gain fame and fortune, a curiosity in our line of work isn’t it.”
“Sure.” Doyle replied as he opened his radio link, only for a wave of static to wash over him and block his signal out. Seconds later the female Razorwire lashed out with a length of energized chain, the tips slashing over the chest of his armour. Reacting Doyle grabbed the whip and thrust down, the impact sending the woman crashing into the floor. As she hit the floor, the largest Razorwire came charging in, his motion causing Doyle’s shoulder mounted chaingun to spin up and fire a salvo of laser bolts at his attacker, the light released causing the Mauler to get glimpses of thick red armour accented with yellow before the man lashed out, the thick piece of wire he was armed with slashing through the shoulder joint and the gun positioned there.
“Be careful with the suit, it needs to be functional for the scan.” The unarmed figure stated, as the female Razorwire got back to her feet, her white ceramic armour sparking as she snaked her coil out and wrapped round the Mauler’s wrist, restraining the punch he was about to land on her compatriot. Snarling Doyle instead lashed out with his feet, the blow sending the heavily armoured Razorwire staggering back a few paces.
“If you need a scan of my armour then you might not know about this feature lassie.” The Mauler replied as he spun up the chain-saw blades in his gauntlets, the toothed blades cutting through the wire, although at the cost of the sharpness to the teeth’s sharpness. Looking at her coils, the female Razorwire looked over to the last member of the trio, the only one not wearing armour despite the barbed wire wrapped round his arms and trailing behind him like the tentacles of some monstrous jellyfish.
“Razorwire hook me up!” The woman called, as the armoured Razorwire lashed out once again, this time aiming for the legs and groin, the length of wire slashing through the plating but not quite penetrating the reinforced flight suit Doyle wore underneath his suit. Retaliating with a swift punch, Doyle watched as streams of wire slithered away from the unarmed Razorwire and hooked up to his female compatriot’s gauntlets. Slashing them with a quick crack, one fast enough to cause sparks to fly off the impact point, she attacked, the tips of the razor whips burrowing through the cockpit seems and up round Doyle’s arms and legs.
“Little pig, little pig…” She hissed, a hint of mania on her voice as she attempted to drag Doyle out of his suit, his gauntleted hand sliding forward, “…let me in.”
“Not by the hair of my Glock Eighteen!” Doyle spat as the integrated pistol in his armour popped up and fired three shots into Razorwire, the first cracking her suit’s and the second two smashing the connection points to her whips. “What do you say guys, shall we take this outside?” Doyle asked, as he ran towards the unarmed figure and the concrete wall out of the bunker. Crossing half way across the floor he felt something heavy tackle him to the floor, and watched as the largest Razorwire hooked his weapon under his arms, and dragged him to his feet.
“You leave when I allow it.” The unarmed figure stated, as he walked over to Doyle, his fingers removing a syringe from his belt. “I am Façade, and you should be honoured, I spent an age studying you, ready to add your face to the long list of men and women I’ve impersonated. Why you’ll be joining people like Justin Hammer, Baron Zemo even Norman Osborne in my repertoire.”
“Fuck off!!” Doyle spat, only for Façade to say the word at the same time, in an identical accent.
“See I know you’d say that.” Façade stated, as a strand of wire snaked across the floor and cut the sleeve of the exposed flight suit open to reveal a vein.
“Then you’ll know why I’m here.” Doyle hissed as he head-butted Razorwire behind him, the concussive force stunning the man long enough for Doyle to spin him around and stab a bayonet style mine into the left hemisphere of his helmet. Shaking the blow off Razorwire went to grab the Mauler, only for his foe to sweep his leg and knock him to the floor, seconds before the mine detonated, boiling acid eating away at his helmet and face. His opponent stunned, Doyle dashed past Façade and smashed through the wall and into the Serbian countryside. “Cross I’ve been ambushe…” He stopped as a whole spool of barbed wire swamped him, the strands of metal overwhelming him and dragging him back inside.
“I didn’t give you permission to leave.” Façade told him coldly, as the last remaining Razorwire commanded strands of his wire to cut through the edge of the helmet and expose his victims face.
“I want an eye for an eye.” He spat, as Façade found an exposed piece of flesh and stabbed the syringe in, blood filling the needle before it was removed.
“Let him watch, and then do what you want.” Façade ordered as he slotted the syringe into an electronic device in the back of his costume, the now sunlit chamber revealing a blank green mask and form fitting armour. After a few seconds the device chimed, and Façade removed his mask, a mirror image of Doyle’s face looking back at the captured villain. “Genetic camouflage, an inside man’s greatest tool.”
“Cross won’t fool for it, he’s smarter than you could ever imagine!” Doyle spat. “But why wait, let me loose boyo and I’ll kick you face in, no matter what shit eating grin it has on it.”
“I think not, look at your face.” Façade sighed as two strands of wire climbed up Doyle’s bound body and levelled themselves with his eyes, before pushing their way inside, optic fluid and blood leaking out of the sockets. “It’s the last one you’ll ever see.”
# # # # #
Crosshair Solutions Corporate Headquarters, Austin, Texas - Present Day
Crossfire dismissed his men and headed back to his office while they loaded the supplies required for the mission prior to their departure. He had managed to convince Gillette to come with him, and although she had been willing to do so in public, as soon as they left the others, rage and disgust spread across her features.
“I would like to thank you for bringing this to my attention.” Cross stated as he gestured to the tiny nano-chip suspended in an oil filled petri dish. “Your contribution to internal security has led to a discovery of the entire network of these devices. As you suggested, the chip is indeed a remote eavesdropping device, one that seemingly sends a telepathic signal back to its owner. It is that very reason that you could feel interference when you used your powers, the device obviously works on the same wavelength.”
“And this makes me trust you why?” Gillette sighed as she saw Crossfire bring out a series of MRI scans from a folder on his desk.
“Because I took the liberty of scanning my own brain for signs of infiltration.” Cross announced as he circled a teardrop shaped metallic object. “My suspicions were correct. We can assume that the enemy knows about our plans and is ready to react accordingly.”
“Or that you are throwing suspicion off of yourself.” Gillette muttered.
“Or that, but what would I gain from that so late in the operation?” Crossfire asked. “No, scans show the rest of the others are infected save for one of them. This person is quite a manipulator, there plan has unfolded almost without a hitch. We need to find the mole, but we also have to plan for additional interference at Mc Murdo and later on at Jotun’s Gate.”
“You speak of an enemy, and while I know we’ve made a few, I don’t know if any would actively be pursuing us.” Gillette stated, a look of disbelief on her face.
“Crime like nature abhors a vacuum, and with the defeat, albeit temporarily, of the likes of the Red Skull, Baron Zemo and others, a number of smaller operators have increased their operations quietly and under the radar of the FBI and SHIELD, as well as their rivals.” Crossfire announced as he placed one of his hands under the desk to remove a concealed USB key before placing it on the desk on-top of the MRI scan. “You mentioned earlier that you thought I was lying to you. Well in a sense you are right, this whole operation has been about something different then what I have been advertising to you and the others.”
“What?!” Gillette spat.
“Ruling the world is beyond what any group of villains can do, especially one this small.” Crossfire explained. “In other words it’s a façade designed to mask our real operation.”
“The data infiltration.” Gillette stated.
“In some aspects, the data will be useful for achieving our mission.” Crossfire announced, a worried smile on his face. “All you need to know is on that drive. It’s currently time locked, once the mission is finished it will unlock and you will be in charge of what happens next.”
“And why would you allow that?” Gillette asked.
“Simple I wouldn’t.” Crossfire replied. “But then ‘I’m breathing aren’t I.”
# # # # #
Lodestone had made up her mind on her future under Cross’s command, the moment she had tried to use her powers. They were still there, but so reduced that moving a waste-paper bin had caused a nose bleed, and a later test to try and catch one of Spear’s blunt tipped training projectiles had almost caused her to blackout. All her talk of being superior when she had more power than her teammates combined had evaporated away, and she was sure of repercussions. After the meeting she had slunk back to her room, gathered what little she had and headed for the atrium. Everyone else was occupied, and she made it to the labs before seeing another person.
“You’re leaving.” Chemistro stated as she snuck past the door, his back turned to her as he continued to work on re-creating his alchemy pistol.
“How did you…”Lodestone gasped, before seeing Chemistro point to the eye protection mirror mounted on the back wall opposite her. “I see.” She added sadly as her teammate put his tools down and turned to face her. “I can’t stay, I can’t do anything. Cross has to change his plan because of me, I’ve put everyone in danger because I lost my powers.”
“I know how you feel.” Chemistro replied, as he stepped aside to reveal an energy cell hooked up to a barrel and stock. “I repaired the original alchemy pistol after it overload, bent or overheated, but making a new one…far beyond me.”
“Is it the same? You were someone before you got that gun.” Lodestone replied sadly as she stood in the doorway to the lab. “Who was I? Just Andrea Haggard, a bad wife, a substandard mother and a naïve assistant to a marvellous man. When he looked at me and told me I was somebody, I believed him, and that means that I must have been no-one before that. Lodestone saved me from being nothing, and now she’s dead.”
“I not going to lie, when we first met I didn’t like you.” Chemistro stated bluntly. “Daniels really didn’t, and don’t get me started on the vulgar things Makro called you. Honestly Lodestone was a bitch who only knew how to be a bitch. She wasn’t humble, wasn’t pleasant to be around and quite honestly creepy, although I suspect that was mostly the pregnancy hormones talking. And as for Andrea…” He stopped and smiled at the woman dressed in dungarees and a bulky trainers, her purple hair ruffled and her face stained by tear streaks, “…I didn’t know her, but I suspect she was better than this so called ‘saviour’ of hers. Too bad I’ll never get to know.” He added as he went back to his work.
“I’m sorry.” Lodestone whispered. “I wish I could go back and change everything.”
“Apology accepted.” Chemistro told her. “We’re different people in costume. I hate my brother, but right now I’d not only apologise to him, but give my eye-teeth for his help in creating a new Alchemy Gun. Speaking of help, before you leave Sneed and I were working on something for a client. Since we’re going to ‘white hell’ perhaps you could deliver it.” He asked as Lodestone wearily walked into the lab. “It’s up there.” He added, as he gestured to a cabinet with the screwdriver he was holding. Hesitantly Lodestone opened the cabinet and gasped as she saw a wide shoulder guard with wires sticking out of it, running to a wrist bracer.
“Who is it going to?” Lodestone gasped, as she turned the device over in her human hand.
“Some nobody called Andrea.” Chemistro replied. Seconds later he felt a cold stone arm wrap round him as Lodestone gave him a massive hug.
“Why? I was horrible to you, and to Sneed and well everyone?” Andrea asked as she released him from her grasp.
“Because you’re on a team, and like it not, we’re almost family. I mean we live together, eat together and fight together.” Chemistro replied.
“Not to mention suffer through Daniels ‘Yellow Cat’ obsession.” Lodestone added snidely, but with the warmest smile she’d showed for a long time.
“Actually Season Two wasn’t too bad, but yes that too.” Chemistro sighed, as he slotted a matter converting beam splitter to the barrel of his gun. “I couldn’t let my team-mate suffer, no matter what everyone else thinks.” He added as the Headhunter walked past the door before looking in, an odd look on her face. “We trust each other, we know that everyone else has out backs, isn’t that right Gillette?”
“We leave in an hour.” Gillette responded stiffly before stalking off, her head hung low. Any trust she had was gone, any emotion besides worry and paranoia showing on her face nothing but a well-constructed façade.