“I will do you the courtesy of speaking in your own tongue, foreigner,” snarled the last voice he had heard before being knocked out. A Korean accent was distinct amongst the gruff roll of his vowels. General Moon Kwan was not a man to be crossed, as the scars across his shown that he had already stepped out the victor in many a death match. His hair was cut close to his head and evidently thinning on top of his rounded head with its dull gray gaze. It was an almost boyish appearance for a man who was undoubtedly in his late thirties to early forties. It was a man who had managed to cripple his own country for an unknown motive.
Everyone wore an identical uniform as they stared at the wakening American. It was with grogginess that the room came into his view; dried blood stained his cheeks from the direct impact of the baton an unknown length of time earlier. Jamie Madrox hated radical movements almost as much as he hated organized religion. Diverting his glare from the General, Madrox surveyed the room for an exit strategy but was quickly drawn back to himself with the silence in his head. There was no fighting for control or squabbling in his mind. It was then that Madrox felt the collar around his neck, a low hum emitting from the silver band. His jaw dropped at the device, which could only be a dampener of some sort. If the Koreans, especially a terrorist movement like his captors, had gained such technology then democracy could be headed for a seriously bumpy road.
Bearing his teeth in anger, there was something almost feral about his reaction to the situation. It was something he would have expected from Wolfsbane – Rahne Sinclair – who had been gifted with such a trait. It was claustrophobic as he analysed the small room that held him. Only a singular metallic table separated him from the General but there were numerous guns trained on him should he get any non-conformist ideas. Korea had never been known for its love of individualism but Madrox was aware that his lack of knowledge could be leading to a broad generalization of the populace. Given that the General was now observing him, Madrox could only hope that his four teammates were still safe and free. It would be a much of a statement if all of the X.S.E, the superhuman police force, were captured.
Moon Kwan smirked. “It would not be of benefit for you to be unable to answer.” Maliciously the man licked his teeth as he fingered a sharp but unidentifiable object and, instantly, his intent was known. “We have some concerns that you and your ... personal army should be roaming our lands.” Raising from his seat the man looked down upon the chained mutant. “We would like you to answer some questions.”
“You think I’m afraid of a little brute force,” snarled Madrox with a forced laugh. It made him seem more casual than he felt.
“I think you will be less brave when you do not have your powers to save you.” His captor paused as he moved to sit on the closest side of the table. “What is your business in Korea?”
Madrox sat in silence, his eyes meeting the older man’s. It was a struggle of control that was driven by stubbornness on both parts. Madrox had his dignity to remember; if that meant he was to face torture then he would take that punishment like a man should. Moon Kwan, on the other hand, represented the psychosis of a nation that had been forced under a communist regime that it could never escape from. His mind was warped with propaganda; Madrox could see this madness clearly in his dead eyes.
“Very well,” smiled the General as he slammed the jagged object through Madrox’s hands, which had been cuffed onto the table. His pleasure was only more evident when the American’s screams of pain echoed in the enclosed space. Even some of the soldiers seemed disturbed by the man’s madness. Madrox’s eyes caught the gaze of young woman who stood amongst the soldiers; her faith in the man was distorted into a sense of conformity despite her disgust at this action. “Ji, I think this could take some time. Would you check on the other men?”
Ji slipped from the room and a dread of fear slipped into her former position. Other men could have implied his teammates, two of which were male. Hope could only tell him that they were still out there and he would be saved, even if he couldn’t save himself. It was the first time in his life that he was pleased to be a part of the larger picture. Bishop, the field leader of the X.S.E, had offered him a unique perspective on the madness of humanity as they had journeyed through the home of his ancestors. Madrox had grown to rely on his senior’s words of wisdom when the turmoil of life and his power seemed to overcome him.
He could only rely on him again.
“I will not be so kind the next time you refuse me,” growled the General as he pulled the spike from Madrox’s hand. “What is your business in Korea?”
“I own a private firm. I was checking in on staff morale,” commented the American with a forced smile as he toyed with the man. “It was low.”
Moon Kwan’s hand collided with the side of Madrox’s face and caught him in a hard slap. His lip burst upon impact and it would only be a matter of time before his black eye began to show. Still he refused to break down; he couldn’t allow this to get to him. Madrox had already started his career as a superhero on rocky footing, having attacked New York when he failed to control his abilities, but he hadn’t simply reformed. Jamie Madrox was always something of wildcard, uncertain in his position as a member of any team or as a leader of any business. Blood ran between his fingers and squelched as he clenched his hands to relieve the pain.
“I will not be made a fool of, American,” the General whispered menacingly. He had been the driving force of Seoul’s destruction; murder was not above his control. “I have torn my country to its knees with the Shiva project so that a New Korea can rise in its place. I will not allow the meddling of yet another foolish American hero to compromise what I have accomplished.”
“And what have you accomplished? You’ve only killed your own people,” snapped Madrox through the anger and frustration of the pain.
Moon Kwan looked close to stabbing him again but they were interrupted. Ji burst back into the room; her horn-rimmed glasses almost flew across the room with the speed at which she entered. “There are others. Three more have been brought in,” she called to her senior officer.
Madrox’s hopes fell. Moon Kwan smirked. “You were not alone.”
|
#4
DEC 10 |
 |
Russian Roulette, Part Four:
“Live Free or Die Hard”
“Live Free or Die Hard”
Bayou Choupique, Louisiana
“I hope you’re happy now.”
Irene Merryweather was still perched on her pedestal as her eyes watched the agony of the young African-American soldier. His torment was etched into her memory and she hated that she had been forced to witness it. Tucking the loose shirttail into her pencil-skirt, the media liaison bore her eyes into her superior officer’s. Technically she was a peg or two below Alisande Morales and Pete Wisdom, whom had been chosen as joint directors of the X.S.E operation, but she had never been one allowed authority to drown her opinions. Her temper was a hot as the red of her hair and her patience was known for being limited. In her youth she had often slipped into the background but she had changed since then. Cable had changed her when he had needed her and she had found the strength to be there for him.
Her beliefs were in direct opposition to both of her superiors. Despite her conservative Christian upbringing, she was not as distraught at the attempts of the mutant populace to integrate. Morales was clearly disturbed but composed about this activity and it was an opinion that they had once shared, before they had even met. Irene had since learned that there was no harm in accepting others for who they were; Cable had taught her that. Yet she wasn’t as liberal as Wisdom who, despite his background with the British secret services, was much more laid back as a director. She could only hope that they made up for what the other lacked in life as much as they did on paper. Irene was the failsafe, the rational thinker.
Morales gave a stern glare in return, as she had never been happy with being reprimanded. “You have only one person to blame for this operation and its fatalities, Merryweather.”
“Do you honestly believe that?” the liaison cocked her brow. “I remember when I brought these irregularities to you, Morales, and you chose to let it run its course. You don’t get to tack the moral high ground now that it’s failed miserably. You knew this was a mistake and that it should have been investigated much sooner. We could have presented this.”
“You lied to me then?” grimaced the British former agent; his jaws became more defined as he ground his teeth in irritation.
Irene turned to face him. “Don’t you start. Morales should have stopped this when she discovered the money being rerouted into this branch of the corporation but you should never have put both of us in that position. We are fighting a losing battle as it is.” Irene placed her hands on her hips. “We have just managed to wrangle clearance to operate in nations other than our own and something like this could jeopardize that. I expected something more from a senior agent of British Intelligence. You should never have started this.”
“Do you understand the benefit of having our own personal Wolverine?” Wisdom approached her, his eyes determined for her to see the promise that he had originally seen but now his mind was clouded with the hazards that his decisions had brought upon them.
Irene shrugged her shoulders. “I don’t understand how you can see the benefit in rebuilding a murderous robot that we can’t control. I see even less benefit in stationing so many soldiers on a base with him in the backwoods of Louisiana. It’s almost like something out of a horror movie. How could we contain this if it were to get out?”
“There were measures in place to prevent such a course of action,” chimed in Morales; she wasn’t protecting Wisdom from the enquiries…it was only a matter of time before she was pulled back into the dispute. “It wasn’t the intention that these soldiers would be hurt but it is an issue that we intend to deal with. Wisdom and I have spoken with the creature in charge of the base...”
“Blaquesmith,” interjected Wisdom as he shot daggers at the woman.
Morales pursed her lips. “Yes, him. We have all decided that the best course of action is to remove the threat from operation. Albert and Elsie Dee are currently out of action and won’t be revived. Instead, we’ll be sending them to Mount Proklyatyi to be contained in one of the holding cells. Blaquesmith and the others will all be brought back to Miami if we have a need for them. Otherwise they will be returning to SHIELD to be debriefed and redistributed to another cause. This headquarters will be dismantled and the operation will never have existed.”
Mount Proklyatyi, also known as the Brig, was the military prison that had been built to hold the prisoners taken by the X.S.E. It was situated in the barren mountains of Alaska but she had never been privy to its exact location. Morales and Wisdom shared only the knowledge of it’s existence in case she would need to know of it if the prison’s existence where to be discovered by any outside forces. Irene had requested a viewing of the facility but it had still been in construction up until the end of last week and they had finally decided to open it for use. Irene remembered hearing it called a modern Guantanamo Bay and it had sent shivers down her spine. Mount Proklyatyi meant ‘the cursed’ in the Russian language.
“I didn’t know that it was already in use,” Irene mumbled.
“We have the soldiers stationed for whenever we choose to make that first arrest,” Morales replied with an arched brow. “I know you aren’t a fan of the concept but there are necessary evils that must be in place to allow a democratic country.”
Irene spat at her. “Is that your rationale for creating a torture facility?”
“Watch yourself, Merryweather. There’s only so much I’m willing to take from you,” snarled Morales before her attention was caught by the bloodcurdling scream.
Blood splattered through the air as the body of Albert reared its head, eyes a blazing red. Tossing the SHIELD soldiers body aside as casually as if it were a ragdoll, the killing machine approached the three superior officers.
Seoul, Republic of Korea
Lucas Bishop had never been a man who had known fear but now he could only wonder about his fate. Rahne Sinclair, the lycanthropic Wolfsbane, lay bleeding at his feet whilst he could only flex his cuffed hands. He couldn’t help her and he had to play it cool until he could get a better insight on things. Bishop had been through this familiar procedure many times in his past – which was the possible future ahead of all of those he now aligned with. Being a time-traveller was one hell of a mind trip, but Bishop had always managed to live his life in any time zone. He was the field leader for the XSE, as he had been in his own time, and he was finding it more difficult this time.
Despite his inner thoughts he had separated the team and now he had three teammates fighting their way through Korea and another bleeding to death at his feet. It was a lot to hope that he could look to them for rescue; he knew that rested on his shoulders alone.
“What do you want with our little nation, mutant?” snarled the voice behind him. It was a man of authority and prestige apparently, as the sea of soldiers parted as he moved forward.
Bishop shrugged his shoulders slightly. It was an even playing field in his eyes as the general and his army were no further ahead than he was. Clearly there had been a subversive movement within the communist government of the Republic of Korea in the recent past but it had exploded into something a lot more dangerous. Korea had suffered major loses in the attacks from the Shiva android and, given the timing between the simultaneous attacks, he could only imagine that the two events and organizations were linked.
Wolfsbane groaned slightly and brought his attention back into the room. It was nothing special, nothing more or less advanced to the prisons that had housed him in his own time, but there was a desperation that clung to everything in the vicinity. Desperation was a dreadful thing.
“We just wanted to get to the bottom of the recent mass murder,” Bishop replied. His words were meant to aggravate the Moon Kwan. To his left, pinned between two soldiers, the Korean woman who had previously shot Wolfsbane whimpered. “Or would you prefer to think of this as some form of ritualistic sacrifice?”
Ji, the General’s assistant, snapped forward. “You do not know what you speak of!”
“Calm, Ji,” smirked the pompous leader. “Men are entitled to their opinions. We do not hide behind a religion to achieve our goals and we are more than aware that certain liberties have been taken to secure a brighter future for this county.”
“You kill your own people and you try to kill those who come in to help? I would love to know how that relates to a brighter future,” Bishop snarled in reply, annoyance rising in his throat as he watched the tranquil exterior exuded by the general. “I came from a dystopian future and I won’t sit back and allow that to happen here…not after all of the fighting and the death that we have gone through to get where we are now.”
“You speak as if you have been given a choice in the matter,” the general continued but his gaze had moved to the whimpering Korean woman as she fell to her knees. In one swift motion her brains painted the wall and the soldiers behind her. Steam rose from the cocked gun in his hand. Bishop was horrified but a queer serenity swept across the other man’s face…he was obviously insane. “I do love silence.” Moon Kwan turned to face the soldiers around him, his gaze focused on the professional appearing woman. “Take them into containment with the other one.” He paused. “Wolf and all.”
Bishop lurched forward. “She’s going to die! You have to let us go so we can get her help.” He knew it was a fruitless effort.
“Do not fret. You will all be joining her shortly.”
Moon Kwan moved off as Ji stepped in front of him. Her dark eyes were narrowed and her cheeks overly defined. She no longer appeared the professional powerhouse that he had initially seen. Quite the opposite, as a frightened and easily manipulated little girl now stood ahead of him. Bishop considered appealing to her better judgement but she was in too deep. Ji’s eyes rested upon the bubbling body of the other woman and knew it was a warning; it was the danger in her future and she backed away. Stern lips parted wordlessly until she simply shrugged and indicated the soldiers were excused. Arms tightened around Bishop as he was led through the familiar halls – he was a stranger in this world but everything hit a memory. It seemed like an eternity had passed without a warning but then a door was opened for them and they were led in.
Wolfsbane’s panting continued as she crashed onto the table before them. Bishop’s heart sank as he saw Jamie Madrox, the mutant Multiple Man, chained at the other end.
Bishop looked over his shoulder. “You’ve effectively killed a nation.”
“And you brought him my sister,” whispered Ji as she shut the door behind her.
Soldiers deposited Bishop beside Madrox as they too left the room. It was a tactic to allow them to speak amongst themselves whilst extracting information. Bishop had witnessed, and fallen for, the technique only once…when his entire team at the time had been murdered he had learned to anticipate sneak attacks such as this. It was primitive, really, but perhaps it had proven useful to them in the recent past. Seoul had been a hub of activity, political and criminal. Moon Kwan could easily have been aligned with either of those sanctions. He was the embodiment of Magneto to a mutant but in human terms he could be more closely associated with Hitler or Mussolini. Dictatorships had failed before and Bishop would have to lead the XSE in making that true.
“Rahne,” yelped the New Mexican multiplier. “What happened to her? How did they get you?”
The statements were directed at the stoic African-American. He answered slowly. “Shiva attacked us on two separate occasions. We fought off the initial assault and destroyed the android in the process. In the second instance we were separated. Wolfsbane was shot by a native as the second attack began; it left us on unsteady terms and we were overcome.”
“And...?”
“We were otherwise alone,” Bishop intercepted him. Husk and Blackwing where their most valuable assets at this time and he would take no chances where their freedom was concerned. They would stumble across the base when they realized the lack of communication but as his eyes watched over the heavily heaving Wolfsbane, he hoped they would hurry. “This scheme is politics gone mad. We have gathered enough information to deal with the threat at hand. Dictatorships are often built on distrust and are therefore easily toppled. ”
“Are we to sit around and hope for a savior in the meantime?”
Bishop smirked. “No, we should cause a ruckus. We’re the only distraction.” Light filled the room as Bishop released the pent up energy he’d held onto this long, destroying the collar around Madrox’s neck as the pair prepared to make a hassle of themselves.
Bayou Choupique, Louisiana
Albert charged.
It was a moment that they had all imagined in the initial aftermath of the previous attack. Those who were absent had synthesised the fear and confusion of what it must have been like during the attack, but nothing compared to the fear that they now felt. Christian Cord, a.k.a. Phaser, whose body was now reacting with quick fire results to brace him for another onslaught, most acutely felt this. Spasms of pain that had since become familiar to the youth forced him into an intense alertness. Dark eyes beadily scanned the area and found what he was looking for: the delicate and compassionate media liaison. Meekly, he forced himself from the bed as his clenched fists began to burn a dark hue of blue. Merryweather had neither the training nor ability to protect herself.
Agents garbed in the familiar SHIELD uniform propelled onto the scene, immersing themselves in the battlefield. It took seconds to form a perimeter around the leaders of the initiative – Morales, Wisdom and Merryweather – but it took even less for Albert to draw blood. Gasping, a young soldier crumpled to the floor, held aloft only by the claws that had impaled him. As soon as they were retracted from his chest, the soldier collapsed.
Morales drew her gun in preparation for an attack but she was at a loss about how much damage she could do. Albert was comprised of some of technology’s greatest achievements, including nanites that allowed the cyborg to heal its wounded body. Before a shot could be fired, Morales was struck with the body of a second dead soldier. Crashing back into the cold concrete, she gritted her teeth as something snapped inside but that couldn’t bother her now. Even as Wisdom pulled her from under the corpse she began to rapidly shout commands; she was a soldier who had been given a war and she would become what they expected off her.
Unexpectedly Phaser appeared across her shoulder. “Get out of here,” growled the New Mexican woman. “You’re no good to me in that condition. Take your sister too.”
“I have a lot to make up for,” whispered the injured African-American. “I will die to protect those who need me.” Slowly he held outstretched his arm and opened his palm as the energy was released. It knocked Albert back but did not stop him for long. The blast forced the Phaser to his knees but still he didn’t stop, firing continuous blasts that ricocheted off of the ever-shifting body of the robotic assassin. Blood ran from his noise as his body struggled to cope with the pressure amounting within him. Merryweather dropped to her knees beside him…any corporate beliefs of the woman were now melted away as she knelt in the line of fire nursing the injured man.
Blaquesmith and Skybolt rushed onto the scene as footmen were discarded as easily as tissue paper. The albino-featured mutant propelled himself into the chest of the assassin, planting his feet firmly into its chest and forcing Albert back from the remainder of the soldiers. Skybolt landed behind him briefly before taking flight again, clasping at Albert’s chest and manoeuvring him into a collision with the wall. Claws tore through Skybolt’s arm and he lost his hold on the robot as he crashed into the wall alone. Coughing blood, the young Arkansan looked up into the face of his would be attacker but was surprised at what he saw.
“Albert, do not this.”
Albert panted heavily as he synthetically acted as the original Wolverine would have as he towered above the young armored soldier. It was a small hand that reached out for Albert but it was instantly recognisable. Elsie Dee, despite looking a bit worse for wear, was awake and attempting to control the situation. Fear glistened in her childlike eyes as soothed the android; she had just got him back and she knew the dangers that were presented to him. Albert turned to face her, sparks of recognition crossing his dark features as he rubbed his thumb against her cheek. Elsie Dee gave the faintest of smiles but it quickly faded as his grip tightened and she was thrown across the hall.
Skybolt’s eyes widened at the sight of such cruelty. No sooner had the robotic Elsie Dee slid to the ground – broken – than Albert was once again hissing over him. Hope seemed like a distant memory.
Seoul, Republic of Korea
“Hello,” she called into the communicator attached to her wrist that now seemed as despondent as her surroundings. “Can you hear me? Bishop? Anybody?”
Blackwing heaved an extraneous sigh as his eyes set on her. She was desperate and concerned but her logical mind was already working out how to better the situation. He had read her file as well as the others and, despite his annoyance for her every movement, Paige Guthrie had surprised him the most. She looked like little more than an attractive blonde, the media friendly member of their ensemble, but there was a mass of brains beneath those golden locks. “I think we’re on our own.” He knew she was ignoring his words, that her determination could not accept defeat.
“And what do you think we should do? Run back to Miami with our tails between our legs?” Husk snapped in response. She folded a strand of hair behind her ears as chewed on her lip. “Ah can’t do that. My conscience won’t let me.”
“What if your conscience gets you killed?” retorted the Danish man as he pulled the black mask from his face, briefly basking in the cool breeze that now glided across his squinted features. “You happy to play the martyr?”
“Ah don’t wanna be a martyr, Bohusk. Ah just want to know that ah did all that ah could.”
People died in the line of fire on a regular basis and they were venerated as heroes but Paige fought with the duality of her position. In her heart of hearts she knew that she wasn’t risking her life to be seen as a martyr for a cause – no matter how much she believed in the cause – but the worries of infamy plagued the petite blonde. She was always afraid of being pulled into the world of greed and desire. Nervously, her hands grazed against her arms. Blackwing seemed to be more composed than she was. Husk could only assume that her comrade had no concerns about their teammates; to him they were not the heroes that she had known them to be. Some of them had even been long time colleagues and allies to her brother, and Paige had been raised on the basic values of respect.
She looked skyward with a grin. “Right, c’mon. You’re gonna get us airborne and then we’ll search for the others from above.” It was a simple plan but it was the most effective way she could think of tackling the now unbearable silence.
Blackwing arched a brow, the sun still beating off his beetroot red features that were now intone with his hair. “Do I look like a taxi service?”
“No, you look like something else all together but we don’t have time for bickering. Just do it,” snapped the frustrated Kentuckian.
Shutting the helmet with more force than he had intended, the arrogant Danish soldier bounced to his feet with a surprising agility. His firm arms tightened around the waist of the American as she was hoisted into his grasp and into the air, propelled by the jets attacked to the chunky black armor worn by the former soldier. It was minimum effort on behalf of the man but Husk was considerably lighter in her human form than in most others she would have chosen for defensive or offensive situations. Even he was taken aback by what appeared in the distance beneath them. Flying left them vulnerable to anyone on the ground but he now realized that it had been a necessary evil.
North of their previous position was a sight to behold. Blood trailed below them through a battlefield of littered white panels. Shiva hadn’t only sought them out from the looks of things. Much to her own surprise, Husk allowed her arms to fold around Blackwing’s neck as her eyes widened in horror. Buildings seemed to be in a constant state of crumbling. Her chest heaved heavily in the moments before she dropped. It was a rush that woke her up to the harsh reality that some of them might not be walking away from the war they had become entrapped in. Her name was called as Blackwing shrieked in dismay but Husk merely straightened her features. Her body shivered and she then shed her skin, leaving only a living statue to crashed into the ground below.
“What are you playing at?” squawked Blackwing angrily as he landed moments behind her.
“Ah had no choice. Ah needed to be ready for battle when we landed and ah would have been too heavy for you to carry,” her tone was in a steady monotone, emotionless and informative.
Blackwing looked at the chaos ahead of them. “What are we meant to do now?”
“Follow the trail,” murmured the southern drawl. Husk knelt as she dipped her gray fingers into the red liquid, confirming it as blood. Blood could only have been drawn from one of her teammates and, either way, somebody was going to pay for what had occurred here.
Husk and Blackwing began to walk along the trail of blood.
Bayou Choupique, Louisiana
“Hit the ground.”
Morales opened fire as those in her vicinity slipped to the ground. Skybolt was in a position she wouldn’t have wished on her worst enemy; she hadn’t been aware of the youth but she was going to fulfil her role as his leader. Slipping forward, the black cat suit tightly gathered around her body and her long hair billowing around her taut features, she watched as the bullets tore at the nanite-fuelled body of the android, Albert. Morales couldn’t help but notice the clutter of broken parts that had once belonged to the petite handler of the berserker. It was a sight that turned her at the very core of her being; she was in no way maternal but to see the body with the appearance of a child to lay so destroyed affected her. Skybolt scuttled from beneath the weight of the beast as he rapidly began to heal.
Merryweather was kneeling with Phaser, injured and deathly, cradled in her arms. Frantically, she witnessed the events that surrounded her. His breathing was light in her arms as her green eyes now rested upon the strong, defiant features of those who claimed to be the heroes. “This is your mess,” choked the woman as angered overtook her. “I suggest that you fix it.”
Albert continued to massacre the soldiers around them as was evidenced on the blood-splattered blouse that the media liaison now offered. It was true that she was a long way from her role as a journalist but she had never realized how far she truly was. Morales and Wisdom sprung into action ahead of her. Bullets blazed from the end of the New Mexican’s guns as the Brit utilized his mutant power, his elongating fingers tearing through Albert upon contact.
“I’m afraid that we may need to put this beast down.” Wisdom seemed genuinely mournful of the loss of such a weapon despite the devastation that had already been wrought. Repeating his prior attack, Wisdom struck his long claws of thermal energy into the creature’s back and induced a yelp of excruciating pain.
Morales had disgust in her tone. “I will suffer no loss and will do it gladly.” The soldier was as angry in her words as in her body language. She slid beneath the extended arms of the android as she faced him head on. Dark eyes squinted in frustration amidst the onslaught of bullets that tore from the double barrels of her guns. Little effect was garnered as he swung for her. Elegantly the woman dropped the guns and cartwheeled back from the exposed claws.
Wisdom was surprised by the courage Morales had displayed…he very rarely found a baseline to be capable of such an act. Albert’s shoulders crashed into his chest and tossed the Brit through the air until he rolled across the metallic floor. Blaquesmith stared down at him grimly. Skybolt was more seriously injured than he had first appeared, now kneeling as blood issued from beneath his sheath of blond hair. Pulled to his feet by the wizened time traveller, Wisdom followed. Morales was already launching into another attack but she was disadvantaged and Albert locked onto her. Displaying the true extent of his berserker rage, the android lashed out at the Director of the XSE project but she was saved at the last second.
Blaquesmith had manoeuvred his way between the pair, taking the attack intended for the Hispanic woman. Impaled through the chest, Blaquesmith was idly discarded as if he were little more than an unwanted toy. Wisdom didn’t have time to check on the elderly creature because Morales was still in the firing line. Putting aside his distaste for the woman, he powered up for a second time and leaped towards her with a tremendous velocity that was heightened by his control over the ambient energy in the room. Turning quickly to face the charging robot, he slashed his newly formed claws across the now exposed chest of the creature. Albert growled furiously but faltered in his step.
Morales was panting behind him…even her specialized SHIELD training had not prepared her for an attack from a Wolverine duplicate, though it took only a few seconds to recover. Wisdom was preparing for round three when a crashing sound was heard and the robotic body smashed forward. Black liquids ran from beside the furry ears and it appeared to have shut down. Wisdom’s eyes followed the general direction of the bullet but he was beaten to the source by his co-leader.
“Irene?” Morales was concerned and shocked.
Merryweather stood spread-legged and unsteady, the gun still held in her hand. Her red hair was awry but it was her bright eyes that attracted their attention…she was shell-shocked. Irene had seen a lot during her time with Cable but she had never been expected to shoot at anything and succeed in claiming victory. Shrugging off their surprise, she dropped the gun to the ground. “In all those zombie movies they go for the head. Nobody went for the head, so I did.” She was clearly out of breath but she refused to be taken for a fool. “I want this place evacuated. We have some seriously injured personnel here and a lot of dead,” Merryweather continued. “I only hope you can answer for yourselves.”
Seoul, Republic of Korea
“Somewhere down there lies our answer.”
They peered into a canyon that consisted of a single metallic structure, which almost appeared to be an entrance of some sort in the midst of an otherwise barren landscape. Shiva had decimated the community of Seoul and the Republic of Korea could only be considered destroyed. Husk stood with her hands on her hips, concern in her doe-eyed expressed and her blonde hair falling across her face in a series of natural waves. Blackwing was slightly more enigmatic as his own appearance was hidden behind the sturdiness of his costume but he was a mystery for another reason. Some of his history was exactly as he remembered but there were large blank spots that he was unable to overcome. It was a key reason for his complete distrust of the young Kentuckian who was already so sure of herself. It was what he desired.
Five minutes had passed since they had finally arrived at the end of the blood trail, but it had taken a further twenty minutes to get them there with no other means of transportation. It largely explained the absence of any real threats while they were in the city, barring the two Shiva’s that they had previously encountered. It could only be estimated that there were more waiting to attack any further intruders. Blackwing had previously announced the blatantly obvious that this could only have been the base of this nation’s oppressor. Yet neither of the heroes had acted; there was a strange feeling in the air that caused the pair to stop in their tracks. It held them captive as they watched, hesitant but waiting.
Prayers were answered as the doors slid open and let out a stream of people. It was not quite what they had been expecting when they had held back. Korean soldiers would have been the last thing they expected but the regimental uniforms could not be wrong. It was further emphasised by the appearance of a General, tackily accompanied by a beautiful but bureaucratic looking women. He was less appealing to look at, yet the young twosome was drawn in until they were virtually crouched upon the rocks that had hidden them from view so shortly beforehand. The General began to shout about something in his native tongue. It had them confused until Blackwing changed the frequency of his helmet and replayed the words in English. It was an answer received too late.
He gasped, betraying his coolness. “It’s an execution.”
Below, the XSE were marched into the burning sunlight. Lucas Bishop led the way, his body exposed and bulging but it was the collar that attracted the young woman’s attention. It had to be the source of restraint as there was no logical or diplomatic reason why Bishop would allow himself and the others to be taken hostage and used as pawns in a game that they didn’t really understand yet. Jamie Madrox followed; his expression as dark and lifeless as she had ever seen him. But it was Rahne Sinclair that worried her the most. The young Scot, now scantily clad, limped behind the others, fresh blood still running from her wounds. Collars were clearer on the pale necks of the latter two as well. Husk had to be pulled back from jumping down to rescue her comrades. Blackwing thrust her into the dust behind them as he held her. Rocks crumbled beneath her from the effort and fell into the canyon below.
Heavily breathing as they listened, there was silence but then the General continued his procedure. His tone was now harsh and serious. The previous amusement had been eradicated. Blackwing pushed himself off of her but he offered no apologies for the aggressive action that he had taken. With the prowess of an athlete, the hero merely bounded forward until he was once again peering into the depths of the canyon. Bishop, Madrox and Wolfsbane were connected by a rope of some silvery substance that also bound their wrists. Images reminiscent of the African slave trade, commonly marked in the media, edged into his mind and framed his thoughts. Their expressions seemed like those who had marched to the gallows long before them. Blackwing cared little for those who were gathered below or for the sheer power garnered by mutants, but he had always been just and righteous in his beliefs.
Husk stepped from his shadow, arms folded as she overlooked the scene. “We’ve gotta do somethin’ before it’s too late.” Her accent was thickened by the frustration she felt. Paige had so often been insecure of being viewed as the country bumpkin that she failed to understand her personality already rectified that belief. She was the intelligent planner, the beautiful overachiever and the courageous idiot. It wasn’t overly unlikely for the southern belle to act foolhardily in the name of courage and pride.
Blackwing growled as the southern drawl grated his ears. But he couldn’t deny the truth in her words. There was no doubt that they would be rushing in to face the army, though one smaller than most, that had gathered below to watch their comrades die. The issue was how they were to achieve that without finding themselves captured or dead. Husk was as much as novice as he was but even in the field as a baseline human, Barnell Bohusk was renowned for his critical mind and logical thoughts. Even now they failed him. Think, he pleaded with himself to little avail.
“Any bright ideas?” His voice was more of an accusation than a question.
Husk snarled in reply. “Ah don’t think there’s much ta be done in the name of logic.” It was something that rang true. They cast their eyes downwards as the three mutants were lined out on bent knees. It was clear to them both that the injured and whimpering Rahne was now praying. Anger shot through every pore of the Kentuckian’s body as her fists folded. Blackwing didn’t need to hold her back this time…she knew the importance of a plan.
“What do you know of the robots that attacked us?”
Husk shrugged. “They were jus’ mentioned in passing in some old archives about Wolverine. He faced them once or twice. They’re known for their high levels of adaptability when facing a target. Wolverine had a difficult time defeating them. Ah would’ve imagined that a team of five would have been able to manage it.” Her brilliant blue eyes sparked. “Oh, Ah remember that the Shiva Project isn’t entirely sentient. It’s controlled from a base.”
Blackwing nodded. “I think we found our answer.”
He bolted forward, somersaulting into the air as his wings burst from beneath his arms. It was an adrenaline rush that he longed for. It reminded him that he was alive and that as long as he was, there was a cause to be fought. Blackwing began his ascension into the crowded canyon, his wings allowing him to glide at a leisurely pace. Predictably, the soldiers opened fire but he hadn’t expected anything less. Shadows shifted over his visor as he watched as the human form of Husk fell towards the ground, both astounded by the beauty of the blonde and disgusted as she tore chunks of her skin from her body and forced them to shower down on the troops. What landed in the middle of the soldiers was no mere woman but a platinum silver statue, the epitome of strength.
Guns aimed at her hastily. Blackwing flapped the wings that had closed around his chest and his arms sprung wide from above them. Small blasts were released from his chest plate and smashed into the bodies that surrounded her. It took less than a moment for the mutant to compose herself as she charged forward, grasping the man nearest to her and using his body as a battering ram against his companions. Sympathy was not evident on the woman’s face; they had threatened her own and she didn’t take kindly to the threats of murder that had been issued. It took only a little to set off a major setback that led to the very genocide Hitler had planned in the past. Jaws broke under the tremendous crash of her fists but she remembered her place, Husk was the bait.
Blackwing landed softly in the center of the chaos. Bishop knelt closest to him; the distinct African features and the long-established M in place were all that were familiar. He looked sickly and overwhelmed as Blackwing’s hands grasped the circular collar. Bishop’s hands enveloped his own and stopped the destruction of the device. His speech was slow and strenuous. “It’s rigged.” Words were succinct but meaningful as Blackwing crunched his fists to make another attempt. Electrical energy crackled throughout his gloves and he expelled the energy into the collar with precision. Bishop prepared for an explosion but Blackwing succeeded in frying the system, proving it as he tore it off with ease.
“I’m still weak. Two of you can’t take down an army,” Bishop murmured meekly.
Blackwing smirked beneath his mask. “I bet you thought we couldn’t have gotten this far on our own.” His face took note of the seriousness of the situation. “Hold on.” Outstretching his hand so his palm faced the African-American time traveller’s large chest, Blackwing shot the electrical current into him. It would have killed a lesser man but Bohusk had learned of his teammates and it was just the kind of boost that was needed to bring Bishop back to his full strength.
Pink hues shimmered around the man as he exceeded his natural charge with a grin not wholly pleasant. “Deal with the others. I’ll help Paige keep them occupied. Rahne’s too injured to be of any help, can you get her somewhere safe?” Bishop had already marched into the battle. Husk was in the distance, overpowering the very men who would have oppressed her in such a dominantly communist society. Blackwing was left to face the two semi-conscious individuals beside him. He managed to duck as a blast of concussive energy shot overhead, striking a soldier who had sought to execute Madrox and Rahne were they were currently bound. Blackwing knew that now was not the time for thank you’s but he would get his opportunity if they could make it out alive.
Madrox was next in line and he was more alive than the female captive. It took him a few moments to saunter onto his feet after the collar was removed; scars were hideously burned into his neck where he had squirmed under Blackwing’s removal. After a few seconds, Madrox burst into his own personal army and they swamped across the battlefield. Halfway through freeing Rahne, Blackwing noticed the bureaucratic-looking woman rushing towards the facility under the General’s yelled orders.
“Bishop!” he called to his leader, indicating in the woman’s direction. The General’s orders had been translated by his helmet. “It’s the Shiva Project! They’re planning on activating it!”
Bishop smashed the heads of two soldiers’ together. “Get Rahne to safety.” He watched as Blackwing became airborne with the cropped redhead, disappearing behind the cliff faces that now watched them from all sides. In the few brief moments since Madrox joined the fray, they had been able to overcome the army. The enhanced forces allowed for a quick takeover; the same could not be promised if the Shiva were unleashed upon them. He cleared his throat as he called to the team’s resident hacker. “Husk, destroy the base. We can’t have the Shiva unleashed.” Her cold gaze watched over him before she sprinted towards the door. Shedding her skin as she began to exceed the velocity of a normal woman; rubber had always been her quickest form. Bishop watched as she too disappeared, leaving only himself and Madrox on the battlefield.
General Moon Kwan, who had been so verbal in their previous encountered, was now attempting to escape the defeat that was now happening to his forces. Bishop shot of blur of the ambient energy he had absorbed from Blackwing and destroyed the dune buggy that had been his supposed get away vehicle. The Korean terrorist stumbled as he rushed to be freed from the vehicle. His movements were not quick enough to outrun the hero who had now caught up with him. Bishop looked down on the man with a malicious grin; it was fulfilling to watch the villain squirm under the justice that had been bestowed upon him. Soldiers, the few who remained, dropped their weapons in surrender, pleading for mercy as their whimpering leader and the man who had promised them reform was hoisted into the air by the scruff of his neck by the international agent who had been his prisoner so briefly.
“This is your end.”
Ji screamed as she watched the American’s shadow following along the wall. All formality had been dropped as she watched her merciless leader, the man whom she had loved enough to watch kill her sister and her family, cowered like the old fool that he was. She was the initiatives last chance at the glory they had so eagerly desired. In her warped mind she saw only her ascension to the rank of Director, the chance to place her name in history books and be renowned for the dreams that had brought communism global. Narrowing her eyes in fear and disdain, she remembered the enlightenment that she had sought and she was given the strength to run on.
Husk followed her as she shifted into a more heavy-footed form – stone. Her fists clenched as she pursued the woman, they had been through numerous corridors that had all appeared to be the same but now she noticed something entirely different. It was a glass panel that allowed her to view a warehouse below and what she saw was a devastating shock. Hundreds of Shiva had been mass-produced by the terrorist movement and now lined the floor in dozens of rows. Her heart jolted at the sight but she didn’t falter. Too often she had witnessed colleagues and heroes back down from adversity in a moment of fear, costing them not only their focus but their lives.
“You do not understand,” called the woman through her panting. “This is for the greater good. The Republic of Korea seeks a great leader.”
“Not through the murder of those who oppose,” snarled the heroine, her eyes emotionless but her mouth tight in hatred for the woman who spoke. Feminism was not a quality that she shared as she believed rights had long since been given for the equality of women, but she felt no fellowship with the woman who now begged for mercy she would not receive. Ji had been weak and easily manipulated. She couldn’t tolerate such a creature for longer than necessary.
Rounding a corner, the Kentuckian watched as Ji frantically entered a series of validation codes. There was a squeal of success before she turned to face the woman who had followed her. It was a death match as their eyes met, both clouded by fear and doubt but drawn to the elongated window to watch the wakening of the Shiva from below. Husk grabbed the woman by the throat, smashing her through the glass in frustration. Ji yelled for help in an empty base; she was as alone and isolated as she had been when Moon Kwan had first approached her. She saw her death but not at the hands of the woman. Husk was not the murderer she thought she could be. Ji was tossed onto the ground beside the consoles.
“How do ah stop this?” ordered the American.
Ji stared, wide eyed. “The process cannot be stopped. I have set off a time bomb that will destroy all that you have known.” It was an intense seriousness in her voice that worried Husk. Ji had become almost maniacal in the race to set off the most current threat to society. Ramifications of which would be felt worldwide.
“You didn’t have a failsafe,” growled Husk as she leaned close to the woman who was forcing her to teeter on the line of heroism and villainy.
Lost and confused, Husk did all that she could think off. Turning on the machine, the young woman forced her hands through its fine wiring. Ji cried out in distress but was ignored. Sparks echoed around her hands as she retracted them and a voice warned of her the impending destruction of the base. She had suspected there would be some failsafe against an intruder to protect their secrets…namely the production of the Shiva and the schematics. Ji’s eyes promised the destruction of a lifetime of work as the countdown began. Husk rushed to the doorway as the three minutes began to count down but she stopped and looked across her shoulders. No matter how dangerous the woman was, she knew a hero could never leave a man behind to die.
“Where’s Paige?”
Blackwing landed beside the crouched men as they looked into the misshapen features of General Moon Kwan. He was the mastermind behind a coup that had left a country on its knees and would continue leave the country on its knees for years to come. It would take some serious leadership to rein the country back into its former stability but that was not something the Danish man could predict if it would succeed. Rival warlords would battle for the presidency and the country would continue in an upheaval that would threaten all those around it until there was another war to seek a diplomatic agreement. His thoughts were pulled back into focus as rumbling noises sounded deep from beneath them, visibly throwing the men to the ground.
“What was that?” demanded Bishop as his eyes squared onto the portly General.
He grinned. “Ji has failed to alert the Shiva. Your friend has been successful in halting them.” It was a reaction that puzzled the men around them. Madrox’s glare was instead focused on Blackwing who had abandoned Rahne in the mountains above them.
“I’m sure you’re dying to tell us but would you like to elaborate on that smile.” Madrox refrained from asking it as a question. Instead, his intense hatred for the man filled his words as a demand.
“Your friend has set off a self destruction mechanism within the base. She has sealed her own death, and to find one of you dead is more than enough for me. The beginning is always small.”
Blackwing had to be held as he attempted to strike the man, narrowly missing his jaw. He then turned his attention on the entrance to the base. Husk had been his teammate for this mission; her death would leave blood on his hands and he’d enough of that already. Madrox’s hands tightened around him as he attempted to bolt to her aide. It was not only the multiplier that stopped the armoured soldier, but also the explosive force that then erupted from the base in a ball of fiery fury. Moon Kwan laughed uncontrollably as Blackwing screamed. Bishop burst forward only to halt momentarily. Each man was caught in his own world, images of the beauty easing into his mind before incinerating before their eyes.
Blackwing crumpled.
Madrox stepped forward. His eyes strained in the billowing smoke as a second blast forced them all backwards. “She made it.” His voice trembled as he spoke, partially from the familiar weakness but also from relief.
Bursting into a sprint before anyone could stop him, Blackwing started ahead. Paige Guthrie pushed herself from the ground as the fiery storm lulled momentarily; her actions had set off a chain reaction but she had managed to make it through the entrance with Ji as the first blast forced them further into the canyon that now shook around them. Fire had burned the metallic skin from her body and left her battered and bruised in her human form. Messily, her hair fell across the pale, porcelain features that had marked her as astounding. It was with sheer determination that she pulled the screaming Ji behind her. Blackwing rushed at her from a distance but he was unable to catch Ji as she slipped from the blonde’s hands. Paige turned to watch the Korean running for freedom towards the flames.
“No,” she screamed as she started back slowly, hesitantly. It was then that another blast rushed towards her. Ji was caught in the inferno as her bloodcurdling screams echoed in the canyon and her charred body collapsing in the distance. Paige was knocked backwards as the sand exploded around her, fire reaching toward her but she was pulled into the cold embrace of Blackwing’s armor as he fielded the flames. Coughing, she passed out in his arms.
Moon Kwan had dissolved into tears as the armored soldier landed with Paige held in his arms. He looked into the faces of his teammates and back at the destruction that had occurred on the ill-fated mission. All that was certain were that the situation had been calmed for the time being and that two women’s lives were hanging in the balance. His throat choked as he realized the close affinity that he had begun to feel for those he now looked at. It was a sense of kinship that only sprouted in the silent hymns of war. Madrox’s glares had become misplaced as the traumatized man – now more clearly bloodied and scarred from the experience than before – moved towards the only obvious exit in the canyon.
“Let’s get out of here before anyone dies.”
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
|
To Be Continued...
Previous Issue | Next Issue