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The Joy of Capekilling, Part One:
“Thief in the Night”
“Thief in the Night”
SHIELD Helicarrier – 2 weeks ago
Agent Nick Fury leaned forward and placed his forearms on his sleek desk. He stared at the agent across from him silently, letting the seriousness of the meeting weigh on them both. Crowne, who was seated across from him, did his best to maintain his composure in front of his grizzled superior, but his constant shifting of his weight betrayed him.
“I don’t think I have to tell you what this re-assignment means,” Fury finally broke the silence with an even tone. Crowne only nodded his understanding, wisely staying silent. Fury was glad, the last thing he wanted to do was to have to put this man in his place yet again. Crowne was an agent that reminded him, to some degree, of himself. He was willing to blur the lines to get things done, but Crowne wasn’t yet experienced enough to not get caught, thus this meeting. Crowne patted his blonde hair, making sure every last follicle was in place while Fury attempted to think of the best way to handle him.
“You’ll be in charge of the entire facility.” Fury tossed a dossier of files at the agent, who caught them as they slid across the table. “You’ve already been briefed on Project: Capekillers, you’ll also want to go over Project: Toxin and Project: Soldier Ant. The main files are in your hand but all of the necessary files have been placed in your X drive.”
“How long do I have to prepare?”
“You’ve got twenty-four hours,” Fury answered. “In that time, you’ll need to have packed any belongings you will want to take and chosen a Capekiller team.”
“I don’t believe I know any of the candidates personally, or by reputation,” Crowne pointed out. “How am I supposed to choose?”
“You have their personnel records,” Fury indicated the folders in Crowne’s hands. “If you need any recommendations, feel free to ask me.”
Crowne paused for a moment, staring at the files in his hands, “Will you need anything else before I go?”
“No,” Fury sighed. “Just meet Agent Burroughs at bay twenty-two tomorrow at 0700 hours. She’ll take you there.”
“Thank you, sir,” Crowne said quietly. He felt almost dizzy with all that they had dumped in his lap within the past few hours. His entire life was changing in less time than it took for most people to pack. He got up and exited Fury’s office, the sooner he was out of there the better. Few people made the SHIELD agent nervous, but Nicholas Fury made him practically shake in his boots. He knew that the man’s gruff demeanor and barked orders were mostly an act, or at least an exaggeration of the man himself. Crowne wasn’t dumb enough to forget that Fury was the head of SHIELD, however; you didn’t get a position like that without slitting at least a few throats and who knew what else.
Once he was twenty feet away from Fury’s office door Crowne let go of a breath he hadn’t even realized he’d been holding. Some of the folders nearly slipped from the stack in his hand and he cursed as he fought to regain control of them. He had already been humiliated enough for a lifetime, he didn’t need to make a scene.
Everything under control, he made his way to his personal quarters, passing through several crowded corridors and descending several levels in a platform elevator. He ignored every greeting he received on his way down, even one from a superior officer. His mind was racing. He pushed his door open and dumped the files onto his neat desk.
He plopped himself unceremoniously on his bed, for once not caring that he ruined the sheets before bedtime. He leaned forward and rested his head in his hands. He let out another sigh and stared at the mirror on the wall across from himself. Normally he liked his reflection, it gave him a chance to make sure he was in order, but now when he saw his own tired face in the mirror he just wanted to look away. His eyes turned to the only picture on his desk, sitting in a golden frame. The picture was of himself shaking hands with his uncle, Anthony Crowne, a very powerful and influential politician. He stared at that picture for a long time before going to his desk to go over the candidates.
New York City – Now
Janice Olivia Yanizeski…it was quite a mouthful, one of the many reasons the owner of it preferred to go by Joystick. She stood alone on the roof of a weapons development center, letting the wind brush through her mouse-brown hair. Normally stealth and the quiet work wasn’t her bag, but sometimes changing her methods paid off.
She smiled and walked to the roof door. Normally she would just bash down the door, take whatever she wanted and leave as quick as possible, but Stane Tech had some serious weapons on their side. The door was metal and, aside from a digital slide lock, it wasn’t reinforced in any way. That was Stane’s overwhelming confidence in his own security tech, but he was about to be proven wrong.
Bending down, Joystick pulled out a group of three small wires from her golden gauntlets. With a quick flick of her wrist, using her superhuman strength, she ripped off the faceplate of the lock. She connected the wires to the insides and waited as the gauntlets did their work. With a quiet beep the light of what was left of the display changed from red to green. Grinning, she quickly slipped inside and closed the door behind herself.
She quietly descended the metal staircase, noting the placement of various cameras. She avoided them the best she could, she didn’t care about them knowing who has stolen from them, and she just didn’t want them to find out until she was already gone. At the bottom of the stairs she found another digital lock. She made quick work of it as well and was soon inside the building proper.
She had been casing the place for quite some time now. She had even taken a note from a movie and used her charms on a guy to get inside information. It was thanks to that she had learned they had gone on full shut down so the janitors could do their work before a huge military inspection that was expected early tomorrow. The situation couldn’t have been more perfect, so she did something uncharacteristic of her and bided her time until the night before the inspection to pull off her heist.
She crept through several nondescript hallways bathed in darkness and she could see from the gleam on the floor that the janitors had already passed through. She came upon a large foyer or lounge area…it too was dark and she couldn’t help but feel vulnerable as she raced from one temporary shelter to the next.
Joystick had gathered enough information to know where she needed to go but correlating the information and maps she had with the dark rooms she passed through was difficult and, as she traversed her third dark corridor, she wondered if she had gotten herself lost. “Shit,” she grumbled to herself. She didn’t have time for any mistakes.
She opened the door to the next wing of the facility and found it lit as brightly as the noon day sun. She quickly ducked for a recess where the bathrooms were located near the door. She glanced around the corner and saw two guards with energy rifles standing next to the very door she sought. Also present were two janitors, one cleaning office windows and the other mopping the floor.
Joystick had to take care of them all as quickly as possible so that the alarm couldn’t be raised. She noticed the pattern of the guards’ glances to each side; they left her very little room for surprise. She ducked back out of view and extended two red energy batons from her gauntlets. She breathed in deeply and let out a long slow breath, trying to calm her rate of respiration.
Turning suddenly out into the hallway she slammed her energy batons together. A bright concussive beam blasted forth from in between her batons and slammed into one of the guards, sending him colliding roughly with the door he was guarding. Damn, she had meant to take both the guards out with one shot.
The other guard aimed his energy rifle and fired, seemingly unsurprised by her attack. She deflected the shot with one of her batons. The beam deflected directly into one of the two janitors who had frozen in fear. The janitor spun and fell to the floor, his chest smoking. Joystick smiled.
Rethinking his tactics, the guard dropped his energy rifle and reached for a regular pistol strapped to his waist. Joystick’s smile dropped because she couldn’t deflect bullets so she hurled one baton with all of her might. The guard lifted his pistol and began to take aim just as the baton collided with his hand, breaking his wrist with an audible snap. The gun went clattering across the freshly mopped floor.
The guard cried out in pain, but he was well trained and reached for yet another weapon at his side. Joystick sprinted forward, her body having long been modified for super speed, and she sprinted the distance between them in less than a second. A taser was in the man’s hand just as she reached him.
The guard lunged toward her but she dodged him easily. With a quick strike and a loud crack she broke his remaining good wrist using her remaining baton. Before the guard had any time to react to the pain she clubbed him soundly across the side of his head. He crumpled to floor, blood oozing from his skull.
“Don’t make me do it!” a panicked voice came from behind Joystick. She turned to find the remaining janitor, a woman, pointing the guard’s dropped gun at her chest. If she took a shot at such a close range it could do some major damage, despite Joystick’s enhanced physique. She softened her stance, slightly.
“Look,” Joystick tried to sound as reasonable and patient as she could, “I don’t want to kill you and you don’t want to try to kill me either. If you drop the gun and leave I’ll forget you ever pointed that thing at me.”
“What guarantee do I have of that?” The woman’s hands were shaking as she held the pistol.
“None,” Joystick smiled a large toothy grin. “But if it helps ease your fears I think you’re kinda cute.”
With a look of disgust the woman carefully placed the gun down on the floor and ran away as fast as she could. Satisfied, Joystick smiled and turned her attention to the door the men had been guarding. Of course this door had a lock; in fact it had three and this one was actually reinforced. This had to be the right door.
She pulled off the face of the digital lock and slipped in her wires once more. It wasn’t long before she had bypassed the first level of security. The biggest challenge was going to be the tumbler lock; the door was thick enough that even her impressive strength couldn’t smash it down. However she had acquired some rather interesting tech from a new associate of hers that should make this easy.
She reached into a small compartment in her golden gauntlet and pulled out a small cubic device. She placed it just above the lock and it stuck on its own. Listening carefully she could hear a series clicks and then, in no time, the tumbler lock snapped back and the door opened slowly on its own.
“Finally,” she said impatiently and walked in. Thanks to her gauntlets, now that she was close enough she could detect exactly what she was looking for. Now that she had entered the weapons vault she saw all that Stane Tech had to offer. She passed rows of experimental guns and power armor. Normally she would go first to these things since she reveled in action and wasn’t above upgrading her equipment, but this time she barely spared them a glance. She had come for something specific in mind.
Her glove buzzed lightly and pulled toward a small door. She opened it to discover jars and other containers filled with various liquids and even a few with some sort of crumbling black rock inside. It only took her a second to spot the jar she was looking for. She pulled out a glass container filled with what looked like water, but sitting solidly inside the liquid sat a large chunk of silver-looking rock.
She grinned largely and turned to leave. It was strontium, the element that powered her unique devices. It was a rare element and very hard to find, so nearly the only place to get some was through weapons labs such as this. With as much strontium as she had just acquired she would have enough to make her twisted dreams come true.
Fort Raymond – Thirteen Days Ago
Agent Crowne was exhausted. he had hardly slept last night after packing, choosing his subordinates for the foreseeable future and making arrangements, not only for his future but to secure his past. Agent Burroughs had turned out to be a chatty, friendly agent that didn’t seem to care about his messy past and Crowne hated her.
“I heard that we had acquired Fort Raymond only a few weeks ago,” Burroughs said excitedly. “You must be excited to be the guy who breaks her in. I went straight from to the Helicarrier after training, so I haven’t had a chance to visit too many of our other bases in person. Flown above plenty of them though, even landed at a few. Fury always makes me wait though, so I haven’t got a chance.”
“Ah, I see,” Crowne stated going over the dossiers on his hand-picked Capekiller team one last time. He could see Fort Raymond in the distance as they flew toward it. He wanted to do nothing more than get settled in with unpacking and a hot bath, but he knew that those things were hours away at best.
As the commanding officer he had to do a preliminary inspection upon arrival; if he didn’t it would look bad and that was the last thing he needed. He’d also have to meet this Agent Harrison he had chosen blindly to lead his team. He would have asked Fury’s advice but he doubted he wanted to take it.
“I hear that Captain America was once stationed at Fort Raymond back during World War Two,” Burroughs continued her inane chatter as Crowne continued to ignore her. “I’ve seen him a few times. Take it from me, he looks even better in person than on TV…but what am I saying, you’ve probably met him dozens of times.”
Crowne grunted in response. He had never met Captain America in person and didn’t care if he had; a blind patriot was no hero of his. He was busy gathering his documents together and slipping them into his handbag; it was literally less than a minute to landing. He knew she was talking to him, but he simply didn’t care.
“You might want to buckle up,” Burroughs hollered back as she began to lower the helicopter. “We’ll be landing in just a moment.”
Rolling his eyes, as if it hadn’t been obvious, Crowne buckled himself into his seat and grabbed onto his handbag. There was little more than a bump when they landed and he rolled his eyes again as he removed his buckle. He had arrived at his new home, his home for years to come if Fury had anything to do with it.
The helicopter door slid open, revealing a middle-aged agent with steel cold eyes and messy graying brown hair. The man was easily recognizable as agent Harrison, the agent he had chosen to lead his Capekillers team; he looked exactly like his photo in the file. Crowne had chosen him because the man had already been training the agents who had come to Fort Raymond to try and join the elite new group.
“Agent Crowne, sir?” Harrison said in a rough voice. The main either smoked or used to. “Welcome to Fort Raymond!”
Crowne hadn’t been ready to put on his game face, but he had no choice now. He smiled thankfully at Harrison, though all he felt at the moment was annoyance. “Thank you, Agent Harrison.”
“Castillo, O’Grady, get Agent Crowne’s bags,” Harrison barked as Crowne exited the helicopter.
“Stay here.” Agent Crowne felt a small surge of pleasure at being able to say those words to his chatty pilot. He’d be damned if his was the first SHIELD base she saw outside the Helicarrier. Agent Crowne slipped on a pair of sunglasses to cover his eyes, which were bloodshot from lack of sleep and the sun was burning bright.
“Fort Raymond is ready for inspection, sir,” Harrison told him as the pair walked toward the main complex a hundred feet away. “I imagine the last thing you want to do is tell a bunch of agents how happy you are to be here so, if you’d like, I can reschedule the inspection. Fury called ahead and told me you’d had little time to prepare for your departure from the Helicarrier. Going from head of interrogation to this couldn’t be an easy adjustment.”
“I’m fine,” Crowne said tightly. He couldn’t believe Fury had called ahead to let Harrison know. What else had the pair talked about? Harrison had quite a set of balls to suggest that they skip the inspection. Maybe the man was hiding something, since Harrison hadn’t had much time to get the base in order.
“I thought you might say that, sir,” Harrison smiled. “Where would you like to start the grand tour?”
“How about with my office,” Crowne brushed at the wrinkles in his uniform. “I want to get rid of this handbag,”
“I could have my men take it to your quarters for you,” Harrison offered, motioning at a gaggle of young SHIELD agents cleaning down the helicopter and getting Crowne’s personal baggage.
“No,” Crowne refused tersely, holding his handbag closer to him. “This has some highly classified documents. I’d rather keep it close.”
“Whatever you need, sir.” The suspicion in his voice belied the laid back words. “You’re the boss.”
“This is the General C. A. Browning building,” Harrison explained as they arrived at the main facility. “Most of the main work of Fort Raymond is done here. It houses all of labs and the administration wing.”
Crowne followed Harrison into the entry. Inside was an impressive foyer covered in tropical greenery and a large salt water fish tank. Obviously whoever had possession of this fort before SHIELD had had expensive tastes. Past a row of large potted plants and palm trees sat a large wishing pool with three small fountains at the center. Inside swam several large koi, hiding underneath blossoming lily pads.
A large green marble and glass desk stood at the end of the entrance between two sets of double doors. A smiling woman with teal hair sat in a large office chair behind the desk. Her name, ‘Barrows’, sat on a small plaque at the front of the desk. “Welcome, Agent Crowne. We are glad to have you.”
The woman stood up with a large smile on her pretty face and offered her hand. Crowne nodded at her but kept walking. “Who was that?” Crowne asked once they had walked out of earshot.
“Agent Barrows, sir,” Harrison answered.
“I don’t like my agents to dye their hair,” Crowne criticized. “It ruins any chance we have at looking professional and being taken seriously.”
“She’s a mutant, sir,” Harrison informed.
“Come again.”
“She’s a mutant. That is her natural hair color, sir,” Harrison repeated. He sounded almost surprised but Crowne had no idea at what.
“What can she do?”
“Well, she’s one of the best at organizing that I have ever dealt with,” Harrison said. “When she got here our files were little more than a pile of papers on the floor. How she can find anything for you within seconds.”
“No,” Crowne frowned, he wondered if Harrison were being difficult on purpose. “She is a mutant, what can she do?”
“Her mutant genes cause her hair color, but other than that I am unaware of any super human abilities,” Harrison grew serious.
“Hmm, how unfortunate,” Crowne didn’t betray any emotion through his face. He had learned long ago to gauge others’ reactions before giving any of his own. Obviously Harrison was sympathetic to mutants, so he had better remember that when assigning these missions since mutants were a very real threat they could face. He needed to know where each of his men sat on the issues as the last thing he needed was for one of them to choke. This team had to be perfect, and God help them if they weren’t.
“Would you prefer to take the elevator of the stairs to your new office?” Harrison asked, indicating an elevator door not ten feet from them.
“Elevator,” Crowne stated without hesitation. Why in the hell would he prefer to take the stairs? The two walked into the elevator; inside it had a gold-tinted mirror with a large handrail built halfway and above them were small recessed lights. None of this opulence seemed standard, but Crowne supposed it was because they had recently purchased the compound. If the men had had a stricter commander these things would be gone in the morning, but Crowne had a soft spot for looking good. He would let everything stay as is.
When the elevator stopped they both exited onto the third floor where again the offices were particularly luxurious. The walls were paneled with a rich cherry wood with various works of colorful art hung along the wall. Maybe he would take some of the decorations in the entry and bring them up here. His office could use a friendlier tone, he needed all the help he could get, and some plants seemed to calm people.
He followed Harrison down the hall until they arrived at a door with an empty sign holder on the front. Connected to the door was a simple handle connected to a sophisticated security system. The Helicarrier should have already sent the necessary transfer signals; Crowne quickly pressed his thumb against a slide and let it read his print. It beeped and the first of two lights turned green. Crowne hovered his hand over the keypad so that Harrison couldn’t tell what buttons he pushed as he entered his pass code.
The second light turned green and with an audible click the door opened for him. The inside office was dimly lit but there were two large windows on the far wall with heavy closed blinds. As soon as Crowne entered a motion sensor turned on the lights as well as his computer and a television that broadcast a special channel just for SHIELD use. The TV would display major world-affecting news, anything from a natural disaster to a supervillain strike. Crowne rubbed his eyes under his glasses and placed his handbag on his desk. For a second he almost forgot Harrison was there, standing in the doorway.
He looked up into Harrison’s eyes. The man was obviously trying to put on an emotionless mask but Crowne was perceptive and he could see the impatience burning in the back of Harrison’s eyes. At least the man maintained a good façade if he needed to. Perhaps his selection had been the right one. Crowne quickly placed the few documents he had on him into a keypad locked drawer and checked his pockets to make sure he hadn’t forgotten anything. Then the two exited the room and it locked on its own behind them.
“I have the Capekillers in war room,” Harrison informed him. “The rest of the soldiers and the staff are in the mess hall. There aren’t too many spaces for them to gather in such large numbers indoors.”
“Capekillers first,” Crowne demanded. Harrison simply nodded his head and returned to the elevator and pressed the ‘Down’ button. There was an awkward silence as they waited for the elevator to return. With a soft beep the elevator announced its arrival and they shuffled in, Harrison pressed the ‘1’ and the elevator closed its doors.
“May I speak freely for a moment, sir?” Harrison asked, and Crowne could hear the agitation beneath the words and determined Harrison hadn’t been looking forward to this conversation. Just to make sure Harrison remembered his place Crowne waited for a moment before answering.
“What is it?”
“The men have been busting their butts for the past several months fighting robotic duplicates of heroes and villains. One of my men had to be sent home because his father is some no-name superhero in Canada. What exactly are they training us for?” Harrison asked. He had started out the conversation staring at the floor but, by the time he was done, he was staring at Agent Crowne with curiosity and frustration burning in his brown eyes.
The elevator opened with another soft beep. The two SHIELD agents stepped out not even noticing another agent that waved at them as she entered the elevator they had vacated. “You have the mission statement from Fury,” Crowne countered. “You even spoke to the man personally. What more could you want?”
“We all know Fury’s official statements, whether internal or external are bullshit.’” Harrison frowned and shook his head. “Besides, he called me not the other way around. It’s not like we’re friends.”
“And what made you think that I would tell you any more than Fury?” Crowne almost smiled. So, it wasn’t as if Fury and Harrison had some sort of close working relationship; maybe things weren’t quite as bad as he had assumed.
“You chose me to lead this team,” Harrison stopped and looked Crowne in the face. “If you want me to make you look good you need to let me know what I need to know to get the job done.”
Crowne was surprised by the choice of the man’s words, ‘if you want me to make you look good . . .’ Obviously Harrison knew enough to understand Crowne’s position. “Information is given on a need-to-know basis and at the moment you don’t need to know. Any other questions before we move on?”
Harrison’s eyes betrayed him as he cycled through various emotions and Crowne watched almost with pleasure; people were much more predictable than they believed. First came the anger and then came the resignation and, finally, the smoldering resentment. Harrison turned and began stalking toward the war room.
The war room entrance was secured just the same as his office. The door itself was made of metal and was probably fairly thick. SHIELD required the war rooms to be soundproof and have lots of armored protection that Crowne never paid attention to. With a quick thumbprint and Harrison’s pass code the door to the war room opened with a soft hiss.
Inside stood four SHIELD agents in uniform. “Agent Crowne…these are your Capekillers.”
Agent Crowne looked at them. Agent Eric O’Grady was the newbie of the team and one of the reasons he had chosen the new agent was because the man had no allegiances, he hadn’t been in SHIELD long enough to gain any. Agent Hunter, an Asian man that Crowne had heard of before, he had already impressed his superiors with his tech skills and cool demeanor under pressure. Agent Castillo was another matter altogether as the man had a slightly checkered history but was someone that might have some sympathy for Crowne, or at least be willing to see things from his perspective.
Finally Agent Cancino, who had received the highest recommendations from agent Harrison himself. He was a clean shaven, slightly heavyset black man who seemed to always take his assignments seriously. What Crowne wanted to know was why Harrison had given the agent such a high recommendation. The agent hadn’t graduated in the top of his class and none of his test scores were exceptionally high. Had the man just grown attached to a particular protégé? It seemed unlikely only because they’d had very little history together before coming together six weeks ago to train for the Capekillers.
“I would like to welcome you to the Capekillers,” Crowne removed his glasses. “This will not be an easy or fun assignment. If you haven’t learned to hate me in the next three weeks then I haven’t done my job. I need to have you ready to take on and take down super humans with abilities and powers you’ve only dreamed of in just three weeks.”
“I got a question,” O’Grady raised his hand like he was in school. “Why was I picked for this team? I’m new and I don’t know anything about supervillains or super powers.”
“Shut it, O’Grady,” Harrison growled before Crowne could retaliate in his own, probably harsher, way.
“I have a lot going on at this base.” Crowne decided to ignore O’Grady’s ignorance. “For the most part you will be autonomous. As long as you do what is expected of you then I will have no need to bother you. Until we get an assignment you will be training a regular eight hours a day unless I feel like you need more.”
Crowne placed his sunglasses on and turned to the door, “You’re dismissed.” he said without turning to look at them. “Harrison, the mess hall.”
Crowne could practically hear Harrison’s irritation in the absolute silence that followed. Harrison opened the door for him and they left the war room, as the door slid shut Crowne could hear the red-headed O’Grady say, “What a hard-ass!” He contemplated replacing the agent immediately but he knew the rest of the trainees were either gone or still loading on the transport that had taken him to the base.
New York City – Now
Joystick looked at the still unconscious guard that she had taken out first. The guard with two broken wrists would probably never wake up and that suited her just fine. She sauntered down the hall and casually tossed the strontium inside a small compartment in one of her gauntlets. This had been almost too easy.
It didn’t take her long to get back to the stairwell. At this point she actually made it a point to give the cameras what she believed was her best angle. Hell, she thought, you never knew when they might try to use a capture from one of these cameras to put her on the news. She couldn’t be on national television looking bad.
She slid out the door she had hacked her way into. “Janice Olivia Yanizeski! You are under arrest by order of SHIELD.”
“What do we have here?” she smiled as she summoned her batons from her gauntlets. “SHIELD agents? Mmm, I do like men in uniforms.”
Before her stood five SHIELD agents decked out in some form of power armor, obviously clunkier derivatives of Stark’s Iron Man armor. Their armor wasn’t colored but was a natural steel gray with a large white SHIELD emblem emblazoned on their shoulders. A large reflective faceplate hid their identities, but she didn’t care. It didn’t matter who they were, she could take them on.
She twirled her energy batons turning them into blurry circles of light, “Come on, boys, who wants the first dance?”
“O’Grady,” one of them said. She had to strain to hear them through their helmets. They must have been using some sort of communications system through their armor. “You think she’s hot?”
“Hell yeah,” she could almost hear the agent grin. She smiled in return; he was going to be very disappointed.
“Let’s see what ya got!” another of the agents said. At this point she wasn’t sure who was saying what.
“Are you boys going to come talk to me or are you too shy?” she flirted laughingly. “What the hell, it’s the twenty-first century, I’ll come to you!” She charged forward, her batons still spinning. One of the armored agents, she guessed it was O’Grady, raced forward to meet her with a blue energy shield appearing on the forearm of his armor. When they clashed the baton that met the energy shield and it crackled with energy, lighting up the air around them blue and red sparks danced about them like fireflies on speed.
The SHIELD agent wasn’t even aware of her second baton as it came sweeping up under his legs, lifting him into the air and bringing crashing down onto the rooftop. She took advantage of this and drove a baton home right at his neck. She could hear O’Grady scream in pain and he was lucky he was wearing that armor as that hit could have broken his neck. A bright beam caught her in the chest and she stumbled backwards. Her enhanced physiology and her armor prevented anything worse from happening.
“You just made this a lot harder on yourself,” one of the armored agents shouted at her as she recovered and took a fighting stance. “We’re the Capekillers…guess what we’re here to do? Let’s get her boys.”
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To Be Continued...
Next: In Capekillers #2: It’s Joystick versus the Capekillers and already someone on the team is replaced, but who will take their place?
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