S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrier- Excelsior,
Above the Ross Sea,
Antarctica:
“Goddess…”
Ororo Monroe barely heard the sound of her own breathless whisper above the howling winds and the roar of the storm that still raged about her despite her best efforts. She had been battling the storm since the Helicarrier had first entered the region- how long ago now? It seemed days, and she was already exhausted. More likely it had been hours only, and her greatest efforts to quell the raging behemoth were barely apparent. The winds still blew with a spiraling fury she had not encountered in ages. The rain still fell in freezing sheets, biting drops of ice that hurt and scarred, slashing her skin on impact. In the distance, on the edge of the front lightning still flared and thunder rolled past, though that at least had slowed. She was making headway after all.
Or at least she had been until her attention had been diverted.
She had been surprised that Colonel Fury had managed to convince Professor Xavier into adding her to the already powerful SHIELD strike team. It made sense of course, as she as well as Logan and Kurt had been to the Savage Land before, and of course the X-Men had encountered Viper on numerous occasions, but still. The initial plans that Fury had laid out seemed better suited to those stealthy heroes that Fury already had lined up; the Black Widow, Ant Man, Moon Knight, Puck from Alpha Flight and T’Challa. Even Kyle Richmond in his guise as Nighthawk, despite his recent activity seemed better suited to the task at hand than she. Upon arrival to Antarctica however, Ororo understood just why Fury might need the Mutant weather wielding powers of Storm for his mission.
She had sensed the foul weather from miles distant, looming closer as the SHIELD task force churned ever more south. She could see the glow, actually feel the altering pressure for miles beyond the southern horizon. It was a storm to rival that, which the X-Men had encountered on their departure that very first time from the Savage Land. Then, as now, her Mutant abilities had done little to effect such a monster. It was like spitting in the ocean, creating the slightest ripple that was quickly swallowed by the greater force.
Still, she tried. She had managed to create a ‘pocket’ of somewhat calm about the Helicarrier, like the eye in a hurricane. It had been barely enough for the crew of the great metal beast to maintain a modicum of control. The effort had been draining on her however, trying both to keep the Helicarrier safe and stable within that eye and all the while trying to soften the storm’s overall fury. It was taxing, exhausting, and she had almost cried with relief when she received the signal that the SHIELD craft was pulling out and that she should join them. Their mission was over apparently, and a success she imagined, for who might stand against the likes of Wolverine, the Black Panther and the Juggernaut combined for long. Not even Viper, surely.
But then she noticed the Helicarrier building speed and heading up and out rather than in for pick up. She watched curiously as lightning flared, illuminating the massive bulk. She saw panels opening in the belly of the beast, and…
And she knew why Xavier had sent her along.
Had Fury told the Professor, or had Xavier gleaned the information through other means. It did not matter in the end she supposed- the how of it. But Xavier had known the failsafe and placed her there as his own last resort. The ground force had failed apparently, and now Fury was taking drastic action.
There were four missiles, long and sleek silvery white with bulbous heads. She could see the fins designed for guidance, and the SHIELD insignia as she soared closer, straining against the cursed winds. They lowered from some hidden compartment, lined on a strange metallic rack, and as she neared she could see the sudden burn of ignition, the flame as they were released.
“Goddess…” she whispered, barely hearing her voice as memory caught up to reality. The four missiles peeled off, arching in formation as one by one their propulsion kicked in. Storm watched, wide-eyed as they wavered a bit in the fierce winds, their internal guidance systems no doubt struggling to accommodate the harsh conditions of environment. She cursed as that very thing that slowed the impending doom of the Savage Land struggled to slow her as well.
“Give me strength!” she said, waving her hand into the storm. Ororo could see the lines of the weather as easily as another might see a beam of light. In its way it was a beautiful display, a mad cacophony of swirling, mutating colors exploding and coalescing. It was like a vast painting, and at times she was the artist, her hands, her fingers guiding the lines and folds of the storm to create masterpiece… or travesty. As now, the bold swath of wind was almost overpowering, a great stroke of red that would not alter to her touch. She trembled, gritting her teeth as she reached out with her powers, her mind and body reeling with the effort of trying to change the course. Somewhere in the distance thunder boomed.
She tried to ignore it. She focused on the task ahead, diving forward, flowing with the winds as they finally turned, caressing rather than battering and buffeting, holding her back. She could see the burn of the missiles still struggling to right their collective course. They would separate no doubt, soon enough. She had to catch them.
Ororo reached out, redirecting the rain. Vast sheets flung in the missile’s paths, the icy sleet battering the metal in a strange, almost melodic rhythm. She could feel the cold, an odd sensation for her, and knew that they were dropping closer into the heart of the storm, closer to the continent below still lost in the clouds of swirling mist. She had little time she knew. A heartbeat? Two?
Ororo Monroe screamed her fury into the gale. Her fists clenched, driving the storm’s anger at the four missiles. She had been a goddess once upon a time, a world and lifetime away. She had survived the icy void of space, the fiery wrath of volcanoes and worse. She had cheated death far too many times as both a mutant and an X-Man. And though death might claim her this day, that dark lady would earn her victory to the last.
Storm would not fail…
Roxxon Oil Compound- New Britain,
Lost Lake,
The Savage Land:
“Jesus…”
Wolverine glanced up at the sudden flare of light. He could see the electricity dancing through the low hanging clouds, the perpetual mist that hid the Savage Land from the prying eyes of the outside world. The storm was still raging out over the Ross Sea apparently, and getting closer by the look. Or was it?
“Ororo?”
Logan turned to the Black Panther standing at his side. He was breathing hard and smelling of sweat, but then they all were after their hard run through the jungle. After defeating the Brute Brood and realizing that Viper was simply distracting them from the true goal they had all charged off on the trail of the Black Widow towards the old Roxxon Compound where the shit was about to hit the fan. They had only stopped to regroup once the compound was in sight and they saw the sheer numbers of the army that Viper had gathered to defend herself, rather, her schemes. The flash of lightning overhead had simply been a well-timed coincidence.
“I think you’re right, T’Challa,” Wolverine agreed, casting his gaze about at the other two members of their impromptu group. Eugene Judd- Puck of Alpha Flight was looking skyward as well, watching as the static crackled through the clouds, spreading off and away with vast distance. He was wiping sweat from his bald head with a rag, trying to look casual but Logan knew that Judd had worked the darker side of the street often enough to put two and two together. If Storm was throwing that kind of energy around, it could only mean the worst case scenario.
“We’re too late then?”
All eyes shifted to see Cain Marko- the Juggernaut as he stomped up to join them on the slight rise. He was sweating like the rest of them, maybe more so, but he seemed to ignore it just as he did the heat and humidity and most things for that matter this side of Thor’s hammer. A lucky by product of his mystical force field, Logan supposed. Good for him.
“I dunno, Marko,” Logan answered. “Could be, but then could be just as likely that Storm’s saved all our asses from yer boss. Never figured Fury would lose his balls like that an’ push the panic button so quick.”
“He’s probably blind Logan,” the Panther said, turning his attention to the compound in the distance. “Blind and deaf if all of the teams have lost contact. He has no way of knowing what’s happening here save for what his ship’s scanners read, and if they’re reading that…” T’Challa pointed at the glow of the Vibranium mound, “then he might only fear the worst. That we’ve failed.”
“Hmmph,” Puck snorted, stuffing his kerchief back into his belt and pulling up his armored hood. “Little more faith needed, eh? We haven’t failed yet.”
“Ya got that straight, shorty,” Marko said as he started down the far side of the rise, toward the compound and the waiting army of mercenaries. Logan smirked and looked to his companions.
“Rest break’s over, gents. Let’s do this.”
Natalia Alianovna Romanova would never admit it in mixed company, but she was getting tired. Call it the heat, or the humidity, or even the seemingly endless stream of mercenaries that kept popping up to challenge her, she was near exhaustion. Out of shape? Perhaps she was simply getting old- too old to be out saving the world on an endless basis. But then, someone had to do it.
She drove a snap kick into the crotch of a man wearing the dark, faceless uniform of the Hellfire Club, driving him to the dirt with a forearm as he bent to cradle his bruise. Spinning she drove her heel into the face of a more common soldier in fatigues, he in turn flying back to slam into a Roxxon guard, both men sprawling to the ground. She flipped up and scissors kicked over with her momentum, slamming her foot into a Hydra goon, knocking the air from him even as she dropped to the sand in a crouch. She sprang forward without a thought into a handstand, her long, strong legs wrapping about the throat of another marked as Hydra. She locked her ankles and twisted, ignoring the snapping sound of the man’s neck as she spun his falling limp form into the path of a third. She rolled, dodging gunfire that spit sand in her wake as she spun her legs about again, sweeping two Sons of the Serpent onto their asses. She tumbled fluidly, landing between the two and as gunfire made the one on her left spasm and jerk she rammed her elbow into the throat of the other even as he tried to rise. Finally then she reached out and grabbed one of their fallen firearms, ratcheting the bolt into place even as the Black Widow flexed and sprang back to her feet.
She screamed, charging forward as she sprayed the area before her with bullets. The time for honor and niceties was long past. She too had seen the fire in the sky, and she knew what it meant. Time was running out… Had run out.
Mercenaries fell in her path like wheat before the scythe. They were good for the most part, and no doubt paid well for their abilities. But she was the Black Widow. She was the best. Hydra, Hellfire, Roxxon, Serpent; it did not matter. They blocked her from her goal and none would stand in her way now.
She could see the Viper there in the distance, not so far away now. In her arrogance she was not even watching for attack. Not from the Widow, or even from Spector and Carter charging in with equal fervor from the opposite side. She simply stood there, posing dramatically almost as she stared out into Lost Lake and the activity there; the small ships that flitted about the choppy surface and the huge golden mound that had to be Vibranium. It was impressive, but…
The Widow returned her attention to the dais, and Viper as well as the others gathered there. More specifically to the man that had to be Voelker, the Sidewinder. He was strapped to the huge machine that dominated the bulk of the platform. He was aglow and screaming, writhing in agony as energy danced over his naked skin. He was the basis of the machine’s power it seemed, though as Natalia recalled his powers did not work that way- not from him. He had a cybernetic link of sorts with his costume that somehow allowed him to step between dimensions much in the same manner as Nightcrawler or the Mutant Vanisher. Why then…
And she understood as she finally looked at the machine in full. She had seen the computer generated mock up in the Avengers’ files from their encounter with the Squadron Supreme. It looked different, modified no doubt to utilize Voelker’s abilities somehow, but with the obvious connection to Roxxon, and add to that the Serpent Crown affair from years before it all fell into place like a long line of dominoes. They were using Voelker and the other-world technology stolen by Roxxon and gleaned by Viper through her mental link with the Crown to teleport something into Lost Lake, that something being the inert Vibranium that Shaw had gathered in the Atlantic and transported to the Ross Sea.
She could see by the way that Voelker was screeching and squirming that the act was upon them. Any moment and the two Vibraniums would be in proximity, the resulting vibrational clash then sending out a harmonic wave of discord that would liquefy all metal the world over. Cities would crumble and collapse. Nuclear plants would dissolve, their failsafes destroyed and their deadly contents set free on an unsuspecting populace. If they were lucky. The sheer number of people simply in contact with metal at the time would die instantly no doubt as cars, planes, ships all fell apart. The world would crumble as the harmonic wave spread. Millions would die- including Viper and everyone else in the Savage Land. But the Widow knew that Viper did not care.
She was insane…
“Viper!” the Black Widow shouted as she fired at the dais, unleashing the contents of her gun. Too late she saw Sebastian Shaw stand up and in the way. He staggered back at first, as the first few bullets struck him, but then he found his footing and simply stood there absorbing the assault. Natalia saw the Mutate, Lorelei standing safely behind him, directing him as Viper finally turned and flashed that wicked smile of hers.
“Welcome, snowflake,” Viper hissed, her voice barely heard over the machinery, the sounds of battle and Voelker’s screams. But they were focused, and for Natalia there was only her, and Viper. “Come to see the world’s end up close, sweet Natasha? Come…” Viper extended her arm, beckoning, “join me here on the stage.”
“No!” the Widow shouted, firing her bite at the Viper, but Shaw was there again. She could see the slight glow as he absorbed the impact, growing stronger. Viper smirked and shook her head.
“Pity,” she said, turning slightly. “Cobra, if you would.”
The Widow saw the sudden flash of movement as the Cobra leapt forward. He had been on the dais, alongside the Asp and Black Mamba, though none of the Serpent Society had dared move apparently without Viper’s wish. Now Cobra was leaping at her, arms and legs outstretched in order to ensnare her in his almost unbreakable grip. His eyes were wild she saw, spittle flying as he hissed.
The Black Widow simply sidestepped, thrusting up with the barrel of her emptied, otherwise useless gun. She heard the crunch of metal and bone as she shoved, her impromptu spear gutting the splayed Cobra in mid-leap. She heard him cry out, gagging as she simply twisted, using his momentum to slam him roughly into the sand behind her. His cry of pain cut off at impact, drowned out by the sound of snapping bone. Barely breaking stride, the Widow charged forward again.
She spun, leaping as a flurry of darts shot past. She caught a quick glimpse of the Asp and Black Mamba stepping forward to attack. The Widow twisted through the hail of poisonous darts, firing widely as she flipped, her own Widow’s Bite striking home and dropping the Asp, knocking the woman from the dais. Black Mamba however stepped to the fore, her own pet snakes writhing as a darkness oozed forth.
Natalia knew that the beautifully exotic woman’s powers were psychic of a sort, playing on the emotions of her intended victim to reel them in, draw them close for the kill as a snake might hypnotize its prey. The Widow felt the cold as she sprang to the platform, Viper’s stage. She could feel the darkness licking at her ankles like something solid and alive, slithering up her legs. She gasped, hesitating…
“Alexei…” she whispered seeing her husband there, reaching out, and taking her in his arms. His strong, comforting arms pulling her close, crushing her in his embrace. He was magnificent, and she was so proud of him; her Red Guardian. She had missed him so…
Natasha blinked, shaking her head at the sudden cry of pain and surprise. She looked about and saw the Black Mamba, her snakes writhing about her still form there on the ground at her feet. There was an arrow jutting from her forehead.
“Hawkeye?” Natalia said, spinning. No, not Hawkeye. He- Clint was dead, killed by Onslaught. She saw Ka-Zar instead, charging across the compound, his great tiger at his side and flanking as the Lord of the Savage Land fired arrows into the army still fighting for their mistress. Too, she saw Spector’s friend and confidante- Frenchie racing into the melee, gun blazing…
“Too little, snowflake.”
Natasha turned at the Vipers words and saw the woman staring out into the lake again. The huge mound of Vibranium was sparkling, crackling with energy and… steaming?
“Too late…”
All eyes turned to the Viper’s direction, watching as the air out over Lost Lake started to spark and shimmer. They heard Voelker shriek his death cry as the energy overwhelmed him. They could smell his flesh burning in the backlash as his augmented power of teleportation brought forth the huge mound of Anti-Vibranium from the holds of Shaw’s ships anchored in the storm-tossed Ross Sea miles away.
They all saw the contact, the brief interaction of the Antarctic Vibranium with the supposedly inert mound. There was a flare, a wash of spiraling color for the briefest of moments as positive met negative, like a shimmering of heat on the desert. Like a mirage…
And then the mound of Antarctic Vibranium vanished.
There was silence. A dead calm as everyone waited for the hammer to fall, for the world to gasp and end…
Waiting…
Waiting…
It was Viper at last that broke the silence-
“What the fuck?”
The cybernetic helmet was the first to go. Naturally, since he needed it to survive.
Scott Lang gagged as he tried to draw breath, sucking in water instead as he flailed, his arms and legs churning as he struggled to swim back to the surface. He hoped that he was going the right way. He had been around the Avengers and the Fantastic Four long enough to know just how disorienting teleportation could be if you weren’t prepared. And he hadn’t been…
It had been hell trying to right himself after baling from the doomed SHIELD transport. Clark and Kent had been real troopers to the last, struggling to overcome the winds and down draft caused by the falling ship, beating their little wings off to get him to safety. Still, they WERE ants after all, and the winds in the Savage Land had proven too much for them.
By the time Lang had gotten his descent under control he figured that he was miles off course, more likely leagues from where he needed to be. He had lost sight of the transport as he had whipped and spiralled in the wind, and for all he knew he was the only one to survive. Lucky him.
At that point he knew that he had two choices. Get the fuck outta dodge- said Dodge being the Savage Land, or finish the mission like a good little scout. Having not a foggy clue of where he was in the Savage Land, and even less of an idea as to where a convenient exit might be, he chose the latter. He seriously doubted that his flying ants could manage the winds that he knew were ripping overhead, and- dammit- he could see Lost Lake way off in the distance.
Fuck, fuck and fuck!
There were times that he really hated being a hero.
It had taken him the better part of an hour to get top the lake under ant-speed. Even worse was the view that continually grew bigger and clearer the closer he got. He saw the dozens upon dozens of soldiers that were milling about the old Roxxon Drilling Compound; a wide array of mercenaries in various garb from the Sons of the Serpent to Serpent Society flunkies dressed in the old Viper’s green jumpsuit. Way too many for poor little Ant Man to defeat, so he focused on the obvious BIG players conveniently set up on stage.
Viper he knew right off the bat. There was nobody else that sexy that simply oozed evil the way that she did. And the others; Cobra had been around for years, and the other two were obviously members of the Serpent Society. The woman in the robes with the Jersey-girl hair he hadn’t a clue, but that had to be Sebastian Shaw licking up the dirt at her feet. Too, he saw AIM technicians and two men in robes that were probably Secret Empire. Viper had apparently called in a lot of debts to make her dreams come true.
So, what to do?
Lang stared at the apparatus and the man that it was connected to. The briefing suggested that that was probably Sidewinder, and that was some machine to enhance his powers of teleportation. Lang smiled at that. He was an electronics wizard first and foremost, long before he had become a hero. Easy enough to gum up the villain’s master plan, destroy the big machine and foul up the works. But would it? He knew Viper, and he had read the reports. She was crazy, not stupid. She would have a back up plan, maybe a generator to redirect the energy. No, he had to give her her dap.
The mound of Vibranium however was another story. No way she had a back up for that. Lang smirked as he veered his steeds out over the lake.
It would be a long shot of course. A shot in the dark as best, but as he checked the canisters of gas at his belt, loaded with a gaseous version of Pym Particles, he thought that maybe… just maybe he might pull it off. He had come loaded for bear after all.
He had ten canisters, and if he placed them right, and linked them to exude all at once…
It took time, but he hurried. Clark and Kent were wavering towards the end, pushed to their limits but they did not complain. They were troopers. He skitted about the mound, placing the canisters where he thought best, spacing them out and linking them to the main that he wore at his belt. It would work, in theory, in his head, if he had enough gas. That was the key of course.
He felt the wave, the gut-wrenching effect of teleportation even as he set the last can and enlarged it. Shit was hitting the fan back on the beach as the strike teams had started their assault, and Viper wasn’t waiting. He could feel the static, the drop in pressure as the air shifted to accommodate the incoming mass of Anti-Vibranium. Now or never…
Scott Lang held his breath as he activated the canisters, stumbling back as the mound began to shake and glow. He saw the other mound materialize, a split second of contact as the Pym Particles took hold and did their work. There was a ‘whump’ as the air seemed to contract, and a flash of light as the Anti-Vibranium fazed into reality.
And then the Vibranium mound- the Antarctic Vibranium mound shrank…
Scott Lang gagged, gasping for breath as he swirled though the water rushing to fill the sudden void. Up was down, right was left as he struggled kicking his legs and paddling for all that he was worth. He was a Brooklyn boy, and swimming had never been his strong suit, but still he tried, churning for what he thought to be the surface.
The cybernetic helmet simply melted away, rolling from his head and shoulders like mercury. The contact had been brief, but enough apparently as he gagged and felt his stomach churn as the harmonic vibrations washed over him. His mouth cracked as his fillings liquefied. He felt the mesh of his uniform dissolve, the belt and canisters following suit as he was bathed in Pym Particles and started to grow.
He gasped as he broke the surface of Lost Lake. He flailed about, trying to keep his head above water as he paddled frantically. He saw others in the water too, those that had been on the boats that had melted away. The Anti-Vibranium mound loomed large, throbbing with power almost. There had been brief contact, but had he been quick enough in reducing the other mound to the size of a rock? He hoped so…
He was naked and in the middle of a prehistoric lake, trying to stay afloat. After all that, he hoped now that he would not drown…
Sunfire laughed as he strafed the beach, laying fire in his wake. He loved this, the chance to cut loose with recrimination. He revelled in the screams of terror that followed his passing, the dead falling to his assault. They were terrorists after all, bent on world destruction or domination in the least. They deserved their fate.
He ignored the shouts and warnings of his fellows as he arched skyward, circling for another pass. Nightcrawler was in the mix, in the midst of things porting in and out and striking the mercenaries down with fist and tail. Richmond too soared through the army, hammering in passing. Sunfire tried to spare them his own assault, but this was war, and there were always casualties.
And still the fools fought back. They fired on him in desperation, their bullets melting before they even got close. Shiro ignored their attempts, blazing a swath through the compound as he swept by overhead. They were fools to protest, to fight back.
BAMF!
Sunfire coughed as smoke billowed about him, the stench of sulfur making him gag. He felt the added weight of Nightcrawler as his old, once comrade wrapped legs and tail about him.
“Stop this slaughter, Shiro!” Kurt Wagner shouted. The Nightcrawler winced, hissing as he grabbed Sunfire’s blazing arms. He screamed with the burn, but did not relinquish his grip. “They’re routed!” he yelled, trying to force Shiro’s hands down. “They’re beaten! There’s no need…”
Sunfire swelled with the fire, setting the freak ablaze only to have him vanish as abruptly as he had appeared. Wagner did not understand. These were the lowest of the low, these mercenaries. They had sold their souls for a bit of gold in order to see the world crumble and wilt. They deserved to die. Sunfire renewed his assault, washing the compound in flame.
The mercenaries screamed as the atomic fires lit them, sent them staggering. He saw the agents of Hydra and the Hellfire Club burst and falter. He saw the Sons of the Serpent fall. Too, the agents of Roxxon Oil, the grotesque mockeries of the Savage Land and the slaves that they had gathered. It did not matter. A small price to pay, the deaths of a few savages to rid the world of the scum that had gathered here. He hovered, increasing the heat, letting the fires swell. One final blast of searing fire and the beach would be… clean…
Shiro Yoshida stared down at the gaping wound in his chest. He marveled at the three slashes, blood oozing from his armor; the ceremonial red and silver of his house and station. What…
He spun to see the Wolverine falling away, blood trailing from his claws.
The little creature had attacked him. Cut him…
Why?
Shiro Yoshida felt his body shift as his stomach and chest swelled with sudden pain. He saw the boil as his innards lurched forward in the wake of the beast’s assault. His eyes grew wide.
“No…” he whispered, starting to fall. He called on the flame, letting it erupt about him as his hands flew to his wounds trying to seal the gashes, hold them closed. He felt the burn, the searing sizzle of pain as he sealed the wound with fire, cauterizing the cuts, closing them.
“Why…” he whispered again as he fell from the sky…
“Jesus fuck, he’s gone insane,” Logan said as he watched Sunfire sweeping the beach and setting everyone ablaze.
“No more than they deserve, I figure,” Puck said, watching at his side.
“The terrorists sure,” Logan said. “But he’s killin’ the slaves too. The Fall People and Swamp Men. They’re patsies, Judd. Not their fault. Why ain’t he directin’ that at Viper?”
“Don’t think he cares, Logan.”
Wolverine glanced at the Juggernaut. The big man had two mercenaries in his grip, crushing the life out of them as he watched Sunfire laying waste to the beach. “More power to him, I say.”
“C’mon, Marko. He’s killin’ indiscriminately. We ain’t here for that.”
“What’s a few cave men, Logan? Long as we win…”
“But at what price, Cain?” the Black Panther asked. “Granted, we consider this war, but not slaughter. There is no need.” T’Challa looked at the limp form, the battered mercenary that he had in hand and let the man fall. Cain Marko frowned.
“C’mon, Marko,” Logan said. “You’ve changed. You know this ain’t right. Now mix me up a Fast Ball Special before Shiro gets way outta control.”
The Juggernaut still frowned, finally tossing the mercenaries aside. He grumbled but scooped up Wolverine easily, hefting the small man high and rearing back. He chucked the diminutive Canadian at the blazing form of Sunfire without a word.
They all watched as Wolverine arched unerringly through the sky and slashed Sunfire in passing, a cloud of blood exploding from his side. Logan shot off towards the horizon, spiralling with the distance as the Japanese Mutant faltered, apparently shocked and finally began to fall.
“Yeah, I feel better,’ Marko said as he turned away and waded into the army of mercenaries again. Within moments after Sunfire hit the beach with a thud, Puck and the Black Panther joined him.
Viper stared at the Lost Lake, blinking in confusion. She could not even begin to imagine what had happened. Where had the mound of Vibranium gone? The other- the Anti-Vibranium was there, sinking slowly as it settled into the soft silt at the bottom of the lake, but… It would be gone soon, vanished beneath the waves. But where was the other? She could not imagine.
She glanced at Voelker, hanging like a side of beef in his apparatus. He had done as needed, his powers as burnt as his body, charred to a crisp and smoldering. Doubtful that he had the will or intelligence to betray her in the end. He had died for the cause- unwillingly of course, but dead was dead.
The apparatus was just as fried as well. Overloaded, it had sucked Voelker dry and shut down when the mound had been transported. Had there been some strange backlash? Had one mound exchanged for the other in some bizarre unseen contingency? She hated not knowing. She hated incompetence and failure.
But that was what it boiled down to. She had failed…
Again…
She could see naked men floundering about in the waters of the lake, bereft of armour, their ships dissolved. It had worked to a point, her plan. For a heartbeat the metals of the world had been in jeopardy. There was the proof, splashing in the pristine blue of Lost Lake. If there was a god- and she still doubted that- those fools would be eaten by the dinosaurs within. If there was justice.
What had happened?
Viper actually started to feel the cool muzzle of the gun’s barrel pressed to the back of her skull-
“Don’t move, Viper,” the cold voice said. She heard the cock of a hammer. “Please. God knows I would just hate to blow your brains out. You’re under arrest.”
“Agent Carter,” Viper said without turning. She knew the voice well. “I had expected Natasha to deliver the final ultimatum. Congratulations…”
“Shut up, bitch. You’re done. You don’t get out of this.”
“Really?” Viper asked, turning slightly to see the blonde, the look of hatred and determination on her face. Carter was so centered and single-minded it was pathetic. A perfect match for her Captain though they never seemed to acknowledge the fact. “I am impressed at your confidence, Agent Thirteen.”
Viper smiled as she stood, seemingly demure. She bowed her head slightly as if in submission, rubbing her hands as though actually worried.
“Easy Carter.”
Viper heard the voice of Marc Spector, the Moon Knight as he stepped to her side. The fighting was apparently over, the sounds of battle dying. Viper knew that the AIM agents would surrender, though they had little to say- she had kept them in the dark beyond the technological aid that they had offered. The two representatives of the Secret Empire were no doubt spasming on the beach somewhere out of sight. Suicide was their lot when faced with capture since the very beginning. That left Shaw…
Viper turned her gaze to see Sebastian Shaw standing there not so far away. He was still glistening, glowing with the stored strength and virtual invulnerability that his kinetic absorption powers granted him- the freak. How he thought she might side with a Mutie like him? He was just an end to her means like all the others; AIM, the Secret Empire, the Serpent Society. They were all fodder for her master plan. She had to laugh, laugh in his face.
Shaw stared at her, blinking. He was still in a fog even with Lorelei no longer controlling him. He looked the fool, as captured as she, seemingly. Though he was the greater.
“Your face is dirty, Sebastian,” she said, but he just stared uncomprehending. Too bad. She had hoped someone would appreciate-
She was in the air, choking as Ka-Zar’s fist wrapped about her throat. He held her aloft with one strong arm. His muscles rippled, no effort at all. He was not even sweating as he snarled, brandishing his huge, steel knife.
“Bitch!” he snarled, shaking her. Viper saw the wash of gray as his fingers tightened. “What did you do? What was this about? How many died for your sick cause?”
“Not… enough…” Viper hissed, spitting in his face. Ka-Zar cursed, snarling as he shot the blade forward. Viper stared at the sparkling blade vibrating just inches from her eye. She heard the tiger’s roar.
“Ease up, Jungle Jim.”
Viper had to laugh to see Puck leaping to her salvation, the diminutive Mutant dangling from the jungle lord’s other arm as easily as she. There was an irony there, somewhere. Pity she did not have the resolve to stay and see just what it was.
Viper wrung her hands again, twisting the ring secreted beneath the leather of her glove. She felt the familiar tingle of magic…
Ka-Zar screamed his rage as Viper simply disappeared. He thrashed wildly, tossing the dwarf aside with a sweep of his massive arm. He did not even watch as the little man went flying away to crash into the sands near the water. He turned, fuming, staring at the two women on the dais.
Agent Thirteen sighed, shrugging as she holstered her gun, unimpressed by his display. The other, the Black Widow simply frowned.
“Where is she?” Ka-Zar raged, screaming. He could hear Zabu roaring in the background, echoing his emotion. He stared at the two women, awaiting an answer.
“Japan, I imagine.” The blonde seemed nonplussed, as though she had expected the outcome. “She used her magic ring to teleport out, back to the Silver Samurai. Should have seen that coming.”
“Then we will go there,” Ka-Zar shouted, snarling. He was close to snapping, giving over to the beast. “We shall make her pay.”
“Not likely,” Carter said as she pulled a radio link from her belt, watching as the small handheld built in power. “Foreign soil, Plunder. Off limits. She has Diplomatic Immunity in Japan, straight from the Emperor.”
“What?” he said in disbelief. He looked to the Widow, but she just frowned.
“It’s true, Ka-Zar,” Natalia said but looked none too happy to do so. “We had to take her here. Once back on friendly ground she’s safe.”
“But…”
“Suck it up, son,”
They all turned to see Logan striding up the beach, Zabu padding at his side as he scratched the great cat behind the ears. He was smoking a cigar that looked worse than he did after his impromptu flight. They all looked up at his approach to the sound of jet engines and saw SHIELD craft dropping through the layers of cloud overhead. Sleds zipped out and down in tight formation, manned by women decked out in slick, black leather. Logan smiled before looking back to Ka-Zar, leaping up onto the dais with the others.
“You been in this game long enough ta know the way it works. Shit happens. Hell, you know the politics better‘n most. Despite the Tarzan act, you know the deal. Suck it up. We won.”
“Did we, Wolverine?” the Black Panther said. “I said it before, but I think rather, Viper lost.”
S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrier- Excelsior,
Above the Atlantic Ocean,
Conference Room Three:
Colonel Nicholas Fury, Director of SHIELD leaned back in his chair and scraped his Zippo to life. He held the flame to the bit of his cigar, puffing as he stared through the wispy trails of blue smoke at the men and women seated about the table. To a man they looked pissed. Not that he could blame them.
Val was to his right. The Contessa Valentina Allegro de Fontaine sat at his side tapping her pen to her pad waiting for something to happen. There was probably no one seated at the table that thought that she was actually there to take notes, but still, it looked good. He had his doubts however just how far her support would last when they started in on him. Moral support- gotta love it.
Logan was seated directly across the table, leaning even further back in his chair with his feet propped up on the table. He seemed to be taking it all in stride, just like the Widow at his right. They had both been here before in one way or the other. They knew the score.
As did Puck. Judd was leaning forward though, gnawing on his own cigar, waiting for something to happen and soon. Next to him was Spector, trying to mimic Logan and looking bored. He did not have to be there, and Fury imagined that he did not want to be. His pilot and friend, Frenchie had taken a hit and was elsewhere on the Helicarrier, recovering. Fury suspected that Spector’s presence had something to do with Carter.
Agent Thirteen sat there too, across the table trying to look all business. She had been through some hell over the years; all the shit with Cap, the dying, the mind wipe… Fury wondered how she kept going sometimes.
Wagner and Monroe were sitting off to the side at another table, along with Marko. Storm was staring daggers at him. She had been in a bad way after she had diverted the warheads into the Ross Sea. She had been fished out of the frigid waters by a team of divers, half drowned and frozen. Luckily she had somehow managed to shut down the nukes, saving them all. It had been hard on her to be sure, and no wonder she was wishing death his way, but Fury ignored it, and the hate-filled looks. In his position, he had to make the hard choices.
The final three at the main table were T’Challa T’Chaka, King of all the Wakandas, Kyle Richmond, AKA Nighthawk and one of the world’s richest men, and Lord Kevin Plunder, Ka-Zar, Lord of the Savage Land and its unofficial spokesman when his better half was absent. Fury wondered just where Shanna was right then. He’d rather deal with her.
“Well, ya sure know how ta kill a party, Nicky,” Logan said with chuckle, recrossing his ankles on the tabletop.
“Glad you approve, shrimp,” Fury said with a smile.
“So what happens now Nick?” the Widow asked, glancing between the two men. “Where do we go from here?”
Fury leaned forward, spreading his hands wide. He shrugged. “No where to go, Tasha. Legal’s puttin’ the screws on Shaw and his Hellfire Club, but Leland’s good. About the best there is. They’ll be tied up in the courts for months if not years, but I doubt anything will come of it.”
“And Viper?” Plunder asked.
“Out of reach. SHIELD ASIA confirms sighting in Kyoto, but there’s not a blessed thing we can do until she leaves Japan. She’s not stupid.”
“No,” Monroe said, slumping a bit in her chair. “She’s not.”
“It sucks, people,” Logan added, popping a beer. Fury scowled, wishing he had locked the bar. Wishing too that he could join in. “Viper’s beat us before. Hell, she beat the Boy Scout over and over. Who’re we ta take her down?”
“We had her.” Plunder fumed, scowling as well. “How many of the Fall People died on her whim? How many Swamp Men? She twisted the Savage Land to her desire, Logan. She killed hundreds inadvertently. She would have destroyed the world. She needs to pay.”
“She will,” T’Challa said, looking to his friend. “It will take time, but…”
“Kill her, Fury,” Ka-Zar said, cutting over the Panther. “You have the means. Just get close and kill her.”
“How’s that make us better than her, Kev?” Logan asked. “One thing I learned from Xavier, we gotta be better than that. We gotta be better than the scum we fight, whether Viper, Magneto, whoever. Hell, if killin’ was the answer I’d be first in line. It ain’t…”
“No,” Ororo added in agreement. “Viper must pay, but she must live as well to pay for her crimes.”
“We’ll get her…” Richmond said, though it sounded hollow. Fury cleared his throat.
“We will. I guarantee that bitch WILL go down, eventually. It’ll take time, but you have my word…”
Storm snorted and the room went silent again. After a moment Logan dropped his feet to the floor and shoved his chair back from the table.
“We about done here?” he asked, looking at Storm. “It’s a bit chilly, an’ frankly I could use some sleep.”
“Yeah,” Fury nodded, glancing around the room. “We’re done.”
“Well, it’s been a thin slice, Nicky,” Logan said as he guzzled his beer then shoved the butt of his cigar into the opening. He sloshed the can about as it sizzled. “Wake me up when we hit Jersey, huh?”
Fury watched as Wolverine tossed the crumpled beer can into the trash and left. Puck was not far behind. Eugene Judd shrugged-
“Sorry, Nick. Maybe next time.’
“There won’t be a next time if I have a say, Fury.” Storm stared at him from the doorway, her white eyes slitted and narrow as she stared death his way. Not that he blamed her. He had let her down he supposed, in a way. She had saved the day in the end- or half of it anyway. The other half went to Lang in the Infirmary, still getting tested for radiation poisoning. She gave him a final glare and was gone, Wagner hot on her heels. Fury sighed…
“Better you than me, Fury,” Richmond said with a slim smile as he followed the others. He and Plunder were leaving together. “Still, I’m here to help. Viper screwed me good, her and Shaw. You got me for the duration.”
“And me Fury,” Ka-Zar added. “At least as far as the UN and Manhattan. I’ll be presenting my case, don’t worry.”
“That a threat, Plunder?”
“That’s reality, Fury. I’m tired of you and your nations trying to take control of my homeland. It stops. Now…”
Fury shook his head, waving the Jungle Lord off. He looked to Val, glad to see her smile. He hated this. He felt her hand on his…
“You okay, Nick?” she asked, smiling. Fury nodded and she rose, gathering her papers. She waited as the Panther approached, rounding the table.
“It seems odd Nicholas. We went into this at each other’s throats, and now I feel for you. I cannot agree with your final decision, but I understand, and for what it’s worth, I sympathize.”
“Well, thanks for that, T’Challa. Hope you’ll remember that when the time comes.”
“Not to worry, Nick.” T’Challa nodded, extending a hand. Fury took it… shook it. He left, escorting the Contessa from the room and closing the door behind him.
And then they were five.
Fury leaned back and pulled a small white cube from his pocket, leaning forward then and setting it on the table. He looked at those remaining; Marko, Carter, Spector and the Widow. He shifted his cigar to the far side of his mouth, smoke roiling.
“So?”
“Yoshida will survive, guaranteed, so long as he gives us what we need. Viper’s immunity is based on her ties with the Samurai, whatever hold she has on him, and he in turn on the Emperor’s House. It’s Yakuza we’re fairly certain. Sunfire’s willing to help. He wants to live.”
Fury smirked as he looked over Sharon Carter. She had become one cold-hearted bitch somewhere along the line. A far cry from the naïve little cheerleader that had followed Rogers around for years. He liked the change.
“Spector?”
Marc Spector shrugged. “Japan’s shit, Fury. You know that. I got ties inside, contacts out the ass. They love Grant on the Ginza. Viper’s dead an’ don’t know it. Y’know she’s gonna call in the Hand though,” Spector said with a frown. “Could be a problem.”
“So,” Natalia Alianovna Romanova said with a casual shrug. “What are they to us? Fodder. It’ll be like Minsk.” She recrossed her legs and slipped a Silk Cut from the crumpled pack left on the tabletop. Lit it…
“Heh…”
Everyone turned to look at Cain Marko, the Juggernaut. He was laughing, or trying not to.
“Somethin’ ta add, Marko?” Fury asked, grinning. It was all falling into place. Viper wasn’t the only one who could plan ahead. “Somethin’ funny?”
“Naw,” Marko said, waving fury’s questions away. “I was just thinkin’ a’ Plan Theta, an’ if Lang had got ta Viper before the Widow. Heh…”
Fury had to smile at that. And he heard the Widow laugh too. A pleasant sound. It had been awhile…
“Next time, Marko,” Fury said, grinning.
Next time…
The End?
Next Issue: What? What!?! That’s it?
Yeah, that’s it, at least for now. This is my last issue of SHIELD for the immediate future. Not to say that I won’t be back as I do have another story in mind complete with espionage, assassins and Ninjas to boot. It may be awhile though, as I have to catch up on a few things. I’m hoping that someone will take the reins in the interim and have some fun with what I have set up. Fury and his crew are great to write, and Gary has a fantastic site set up just begging for stories…
So, until next time, keep reading and remember…
Don’t yield! Back SHIELD!
Curt F © 2006