Los Angeles, the city of Angels.
A city that has endured many hardships in its lifetime. Riots, race wars, even the occasional super villain and super hero battle. If New York was the city where heroes hung up their capes and achieved glory, Los Angeles was where they came to slum it till eventually ending back up in the arms of New York.
Explosions ripped through the crowded streets, the innocents scattering to the wind. A body tumbled through the air and smashed into a moving car driving it into the brick wall of a nearby building. Shaking their head the figure dives to the side to avoid the strike of an energy-crackling baton. A swift kick to his attackers head staggered them long enough to grab the cars driver.
“Come with me, sir, we’ll find someplace safe for you.”
“Where is safe in a battlefield? Goddamn heroes tearing our cities apart! Not enough of ya died if you ask me.”
A blast struck the ground where they were last standing as the man was placed on the sidewalk.
“Nice talking to you sir.”
Across the way, a black male in a red, white, and blue suit with a giant white star in the middle dodged balls of pink energy from a tall youth with spiky blond hair. Each blow he tried to get off was deflected away as the balls turned into a pink energy shield.
“I hate teens.” He muttered as another ball struck him sending him sailing backwards till he came to a stop smashing through a statue. At the same time he hit the statue a young woman in a red and blue costume and long blond hair dodged the punches of a young man in a plain shirt and jeans.
“The young ones don’t even appreciate the traditions of costumes.” Dodging to the side she hopped off the pieces of the statue to aim a kick right at his chest. He grabbed her ankle and sent her sailing through the air and into a tree. “Well that went well.”
A frog-themed costumed man bounced down the road as an armored figure followed after him, the asphalt rippling and cracking in front of him. Sonic waves blasted from his wrists into anything before him. One of the waves struck the frogman and sent him flying through a store window.
“Ribbit!”
The first man dodged another attack by the baton-carrying assailant. Energy crackled through their hands and into the batons. He leapt aside his cape swinging in the air as a blast from the batons struck the car that had been behind him just a moment before.
A scream ripped through the air freezing them all in place as they stared at the middle of the street. A man in yellow armor stood triumphant as his sword was embedded deep in the chest of one of the heroes. Tossing the body aside he laughed as the outlook turned bleak for the remaining heroes.
72 Hours Prior
“It’s been fourteen months since the tragic loss of seventeen of the world’s greatest heroes. The world has gone on as heroes the world over have stepped up to take the place of those we lost to Onslaught. Recently heroes like Thor and Iron Man have been spotted causing many to wonder if the heroes are returning, or if some soul picked up the mantle to continue the good work. With the resurgence of heroes also comes the resurgence of crime throughout the country. With the crime rate skyrocketing in major cities like New York, Los Angeles…”
Kyle Richmond’s attention faded from the television as he gripped a glass of scotch tightly. Fourteen months since the Avengers, Fantastic Four, and other selfless heroes sacrificed themselves to save the world. Some of the best the hero community had to offer and they were now gone. Leaving the rest to fill in some very big shoes.
“…and even in smaller cities where super crime was non-existent. Do heroes breed these Super Villains, or would they still emerge even without the heroes? One has but to wonder if we were better off with the heroes gone. This is Monica Cruz reporting for Channel Six news.”
“This ones for you guys.” Downing the glass he let it drop onto the coffee table and slowly rubbed his forehead. A folder sat open on his lap the rising crime statistics of major West Coast cities including Los Angeles, San Francisco, and Seattle among others.
“What would Cap do?”
Finding no answer descending from the heavens the folder fell to the ground as he moved towards the bathroom. Cold water splashed on his face as he stared at his disheveled reflection. A five o’clock shadow sat prominently on his jaw as he ran a hand through his long and unruly hair.
Turning from the mirror he re-entered the main room and watched as another report on candlelight vigils and memorials across the world for the fallen heroes were still going strong. A sigh slipped out as the television flickered out, the remote dropping down onto the vacant chair.
The world was going to hell in a hand basket and there didn’t seem to be enough heroes to stop it. The cream of the crop were gone and now all that was left were the wash-ups and second stringers. It was time for those forgotten to step up and fill the void.
Grabbing the phone a number was dialed and the connection made. “Yes, this is Mr. Richmond. Prep the jet. I’m taking a trip.”
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24 Hours Later
The City of Angels
“Gimmie your purse, bitch!”
A sob escaped the woman’s throat as she tried to hold tightly to her purse. With things deteriorating in the city and economy, every dime and dollar meant the world to her and her family.
The man snarled and grabbed at her purse growing impatient. Shoving forward she sent the man stumbling into piles of trash. Taking this momentary distraction she began running further down the dark alley.
Dodging through piles of trash and even some prone bodies of sleeping homeless, the woman felt hot tears burning down her cheeks. The echo of footsteps closing in on her spurred her on. Intense pain shot through her legs as she felt a cramp coming on, slowing some she knows that he is almost upon her.
“Help me! Please, someone!” She screamed out hoping someone would answer. Even in dark times there had to be a Good Samaritan out there. “Please help me!”
Suddenly the pavement met her face as pain erupted through every pore. She could feel his body upon her and she tried to struggle away. The man laughed as the asphalt tore into her exposed skin causing her to wince.
“Shoulda just given me your purse. Now I’m gonna have ta teach you a lesson.” His hands roaming over her brought a return of the tears as she tried to block it all out. “Too bad for you, ain’t no heroes round no more.”
A whistling filled the air as a small projectile flew through the air striking the man in the elbow with a sickening crunch.
“Ahhh!” As his screams echoed out, a figure plummeted from the rooftops above, landing softly beside the pair. The figure grabbed the man by his collar and pulled him up.
“There are still heroes left. Cleaning the streets of scum like you” The deep voice of the figure seems to reverberate around them. Dropping the man to the ground the new figure approached the woman.
He reached a hand out to her. “It’s alright, miss. He won’t bother you again.”
The hero froze as he felt a tap on his shoulder. A vicious right hook to the jaw greeted the hero as he turned. Falling back he lay stunned on the ground tasting blood on his lips. Gasping, he grunted as a booted foot connected with his ribs numerous times.
“Fucking heroes,” The other man muttered before he grabbed the woman’s purse and dashed off into the night.
Pulling herself up the woman gave the fallen hero a dirty look. “Some hero you are. Can’t even take down a hoodlum.” With an angry sigh she stormed off out of the alley hoping maybe to catch a cop to stop the man with her purse.
Gasping Kyle rolled to his side and spat up blood. His blue costume was littered with dirt and shoeprints as he struggled to his feet. With two hands around his chest he hobbled down the alley hoping to avoid any gawkers.
“Some night this turned out to be.”
====================
“I told you, it wasn’t a good idea to go out.”
A wince as the alcohol touches a broken and bloody lip. His cowl is tossed to the side as the costume is peeled from sweaty and grimy flesh. Dropping it to the floor he breathes a sigh of relief before the alcohol returns.
“But you had to go play tough man hero. Do you think Cap used to run in the field before coming up with some sort of strategy?”
“How would I know, Julia? I didn’t get to spend as much time around the man as those of you big time Avengers now did I? I fought them more than worked on their side. We all can’t be the strategic genius Captain America was.”
Julia Carpenter sighed as she set the rubbing alcohol aside and knelt before the man before her. Settling back in the comfy armchair he looked everywhere but her way. Eventually she won out as their eyes met.
“What?”
“You came to me, Kyle. You said you needed help reclaiming Los Angeles from those praying upon it. I accepted. I’ve was out of the hero business. Raising my daughter in Seattle was how I planned to spend the next chunk of my life*, but I believed in your idea. Don’t go giving up on me already.”
*see MARVEL REBORN PRESENTS #4
“I never said I was giving up.”
“Well then don’t go out there almost getting yourself killed either. I only have a limited supply of first aid materials you know.”
A small smile and a nod follow her comment. “All right. Agreed. I just need to learn the lay of the land more. Find out what’s driving the crime rates up. There has to be a reason.”
“An age old reason. Greed. Nothing more nothing less.”
“I can’t believe that.”
“Believe what you want Kyle, but it’s a fact. The heroes are gone and they are never coming back. The bad guys know that. We think that we were just holding small things at bay as the cops did most of the real work. The truth is the heroes did a lot more than they thought they did. And now it’s up to those of us left to carry that tradition on.” Grabbing the bandages and cleaning materials she moved into the hall and then the bathroom.
“That thug tonight. He wasn’t afraid of me. Not at all. Common thugs used to fear heroes.”
Julia’s voice floated through the hallway. “They used to be afraid. One man can be broken. But a group of men and women is harder to break. This city, no this country used to have champions fighting for a cause. Maybe it’s time they do again.”
Raising hands in frustration his mind turned to heroes he knew. “Who am I going to get to join a team though? Not like the pickings are that great. And the heroes that want to fight already are. How do you motivate those that aren’t moved by the plight of others?”
Her blond hair swayed as she returned to the room. Straddling a dining room chair she grabbed an apple off the table. Taking a bite she raised an eyebrow. “You use the universal motivator. Which I do believe a wealthy man such as you has plenty of.”
“I wouldn’t even know where to start..”
Rubbing her chin a smile lit up. “I think I have just the people for you. Give me twenty-four hours and they’re yours.”
“I can’t wait to see.”
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“These are your heroes? I haven’t even heard of most of them for goodness sake.”
Kyle and Julia stood in full costume staring at the group of heroes she had assembled. Standing far enough away with lowered voices they discussed her somewhat eccentric choices.
“And how many people know who Nighthawk is? Or that there are so many Spider-Women running around?”
“Not the point.” Grumbling he turned back to view them. “I mean is that guy wearing a frog suit? Seriously.”
“Come on, you big baby. Time to meet the troops.”
Dragging him along they approached the line-up. Five individuals stood before them. Each one different than the last. Each in a colorful and interesting costume. Some more ridiculous than others at this point.
The first man stood tall his dark skin standing out over the red, white, and blue costume he wore. His dark crew cut was definitely militaristic in style. He eyed Nighthawk and stood stiffer at attention.
“Nighthawk, this is Lemar Hoskins or Battlestar. He was originally the Bucky to Captain America’s replacement before taking on his own identity. He also has worked alongside The Falcon and as part of Silver Sable’s Wild Pack for a short time.”
Nodding at the man they moved down the line. A women in a purple and yellow suit with pointed ears on her cowl smiled at them. “This is Nosferata. She is independently wealthy herself, and isn’t taking on this job for money.”
“What is she looking for then?”
Before Julia could answer Nosferata spoke up. “I’m looking to fight crime. I am out to defend others in the name of my parent’s. They were gunned down before me, and ever since them I have fought crime dressed as a bat.”
A hand raised and scratched his chin as Kyle thought. “Why does that sound so familiar?”
Julia shrugged. “No clue. Probably some old campy television show or string of movies or something.”
Shrugging Kyle moved onto the next man. The man in the frog suit. The young man’s face lit up in joy as he was approached. It was clear that he was enjoying the thought of becoming a hero. Kyle seemed to recall something about a frog themed hero years before.
“And what’s your story young man?”
“My name is Eugene Paillo sir. My father was the villain Leap-Frog. He went to prison and reformed but retired as well. I picked up his mantle to carry on the tradition. I want to be a hero like Spider-Man or Captain America.”
“He’s got enthusiasm. I like that.”
Moving on they reached a woman with an outfit similar in style to Battlestar’s. Kyle looked her up and down as she stood arms crossed. “Let me guess inspired by Captain America as well?”
“Course if a woman is running around in a costume just like a man’s she must have been inspired by him. A woman couldn’t have thought up a similar type of design. Cause of course you men are so much smarter than we are…”
Kyle pulled Julia away. “Care to explain?”
“Free Spirit was part of a subliminal recording experiment that was supposed to make the person hate men. She broke the programming but sometimes a bit still breaks through. She’s as strong and fast as Captain America.”
Nodding Kyle turned back and gave Free Spirit a wary glance before approaching the last man. His black suit didn’t stand out much. But the four metal arms upon his back were impressive.
“Steel Spider. I’ve heard of you. You were reported as one of the heroes helping out against sentinels during the Onslaught debacle. Before that it was believed you had retired.”
“I had personal issues. But when Onslaught came I couldn’t ignore the need I saw. So I suited up. Haven’t looked back yet. I’ll admit working on the West Coast is certainly different than New York.”
Kyle nodded and turned to address the group as a whole. “That is true. This is not New York. There aren’t a network of heroes waiting to hold our hands if we run into trouble. If you go forward with this proposition you know now we are on our own. We must be the champions this city needs to restore order.”
A few coughs, a roll of the eyes, and a gleeful squeal were all that greeted his speech. Julia laid a hand upon his shoulder. “This is your team, Night.”
“May God help us all.”
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Elsewhere
The door opens to reveal a darkened room and a long silver table. Striding in a figure approached the one lone chair and plopped down crossing their legs upon the table. A shadowy figure moved at the other end. Leaning forward till just before they left the light.
“You know why you are here?”
“Yeah. You want the game.”
“Correct. Are you willing to play the game?”
“How much we talking. The crew doesn’t come cheap.”
“More than you can dream.” A slip of paper slides down the table with a number that is very acceptable. “Do you find this acceptable?”
“I do. You got a deal. So what’s the target?”
A picture slid down the table. A petite hand grabbed it and Joystick leaned forward staring at the figure in the picture. “Who is it?”
“Ms. Yanizeski, have you ever heard of the one called Nighthawk?”
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Next Issue: The Champions begin training. Champions vs. The Great Game! Nuff’ said.