Echo Point,
Antarctica:
Alpha, BETA, Delta, Gamma…
Marc Spector slammed against the side of the wall, wincing as his shoulder took the brunt of the impact as the SHIELD Transport tilted wildly, tipping from port to starboard and quickly back again. The turbulence was terrible; the thermals rising from the hidden valley making the descent a wild, stomach churning ride. He was glad that he was used to such things, feeling just the slightest pang of pity for the others. He braced against the metal wall, waiting for the briefest stability then- when the ship leveled, groped for the hand cables criss-crossing overhead in a web work of stiff canvas, trying to regain his footing as he made his way towards the cockpit of the craft. He rubbed at his shoulder, sucking air through clenched teeth as he listened to the string of curses- all in French- that greeted his arrival.
"Frenchie?" Spector said as the ship rocked again. He could see swirls of mist billowing beyond the main view port, and even through the thick shielding he could here the harsh whip of wind. "You got this?"
The man in the pilot’s seat did not look back, but Marc Spector could see his shoulders tense as he struggled at the controls. His hands were gripped tightly about the wheel, his knuckles white and glistening with sweat. Beside him in the Co-Pilot’s seat, a SHIELD agent almost mirrored his positions and actions, straining at his own controls.
"Eet Eez like flying a brick, Marc!" the man called Frenchie screamed over the wind and the steady drone of the engines. "If we were in zee Crescent, I would have us on the ground already! Zis- zis ship eez crap!"
Spector grinned. He had been friends with, and worked with Frenchie for years. The man was the best pilot he knew, a battle pilot from the 'Nam among other things, and he knew that there was no other man alive that he would trust to handle the situation they were in-
Dropping into the Savage Land…
It defied description, and had anyone told him even a week ago that he would be doing this he would have laughed in their face. Damn Fury and his crisis! Why he had ever signed on for this job he would never know.
"You can handle it Frenchie. If anyone can fly this box through this weather, it’s you," Spector said, his hands dropping on the back of the Captain’s Chair. If Frenchie felt the sudden pressure or support, he did not acknowledge it.
"Easy for you to say, Marc," Frenchie said, Spector detecting the slightest edge of panic- almost- in his old friend’s voice. Frenchie had been the Moon Knight’s pilot for the last few years, Spector’s best friend and confidant, his right hand. If Frenchie was worried, maybe Marc Spector should be as well-
"You are not trying to fly this piece of- Ahh!"
Spector saw a grayish-green shadow flash across the view port. Something big, and flying, only swerving at the last moment and only after slamming against the thick plexi-glass of the main wind screen. The thick pane cracked, spider webbing spreading rapidly across the pseudo glass, enhancing the huge, golden eye.
"What the-"
The shadow had vanished as quickly as it had appeared, but the damage was already done. Spector felt the transport whip about, spinning wildly into a new, haphazard spiral as his old friend struggled with the controls. Marc Spector could hear the whistle of wind shooting through the broken pane, and worse. He looked to the co-pilot and saw the man clutching at his throat, blood gushing about a large triangle of glass jutting from his neck. Spector moved to help, his own hands going to the man’s neck to apply pressure but even as he reached the co-pilot, the man slumped in his seat, his body thrashing about, a victim of gravity and centrifugal force. Blood sprayed across Spector’s chest and face.
"Jesus…"
"Marc!" Frenchie yelled over the roar and squeal of the straining engines. "I’ve lost the pitch control! We’re going to-"
Spector slammed against the bulkhead, sparks flying as his shoulder smashed into the Navigation Console. He could hear a staticky voice shouting over the intercom but could not make out the words.
"Can you get us down-"
"We’re going down, you ass!"
"-In one piece," Spector continued, batting smoke as he tried to regain his balance. His eyes scanned the cabin for a fire extinguisher as the far off, fractured mountains spiraled into sight. The transport had quickly dropped through the thick layer of clouds that perpetually covered the Savage Land and he could see the hidden, prehistoric world in all its glory. It was breath taking- or would have been were they not plummeting to their deaths.
Marc Spector saw his friend calm suddenly, his shoulders rising and falling as he took a long, deep breath. Frenchie looked back. "I can only try, Mon ami. Best you and zee others bail while you can-"
"Not without you, pal," Spector said as he forced open a hatch in the wall marked for emergencies. This seemed to qualify. "Nobody gets left behind."
"Zee fate of zee world lies in your hands, Marc, oddly enough. You must live to stop zees snakes. Go! Get the others out."
"But-"
"Go!"
Spector grimaced, giving his old best friend a glare but finally nodding. He was right, the bastard. Viper had to be stopped.
He pulled the harnesses from the emergency compartment, trying to remember what Carter had said they were. Not parachutes, but para- something. Whatever, he ripped the seals from the vacuum bags and tossed one onto the dead co-pilot’s lap. Glancing out the window he saw they were still well up in the air, the ship’s spiraling, the thermals, probably mostly Frenchie’s piloting slowing their decent a bit- just enough.
"Use that ya little prick," he said as he strapped on his own harness, locking the Velcro straps about his thighs and shoulders, centering the guidance control across his chest. "We don’t need any martyrs this trip."
"Moi?" Frenchie grinned, sweat dripping down his face. "Have some faith, Marc- and get out!"
Spector forced a smile and a final look out the shattered windscreen. The ground was coming up fast. Without another word he dashed into the rear compartment, the door slamming shut and sealing behind him. Spector turned, staring at the locked door.
"Frenchie?"
"Get the lead out, Spector!" Agent Thirteen’s voice shrieked over the harsh whistle of wind that dominated the rear hold. Spector turned and saw his team leader standing midsection swaying at the end of an overhead support strap.
Sharon Carter was dressed in a standard SHIELD field uniform; black leather and kevlar, the only slash of color the SHIELD emblem over her heart. She was armed to the teeth; side arm, rifle, batons and God knows what else. Spector knew that the uniform was a modified design based on Reed Richards Unstable Molecule patents and altered by SHIELD’s head tech man, the Gaff. It was a Cam-Suit, the Cam for camouflage as well as chameleon and Spector knew that it would adjust depending on her surroundings; color, scent, warmth. It was a remarkable piece of work. Spector glanced down at his own green fatigues, side arm and truncheon and shrugged.
"We’re jumping, I take it?" Carter shouted again, barely waiting for Spector’s response before she motioned for Marko to open the hatch to full.
Cain Marko, the Juggernaut grinned and shoved the heavy metal door from its hinges, watching as it fluttered in the backdraft and flew away. He was dressed in his brown armor and big helmet, the bands on his arms straining as he flexed his huge muscles.
"Show off…"
Behind him, Scott Lang stood dressed almost identically to Carter- sans weapons and wearing his over-sized cybernetic helmet. He was trying to smile, but Spector could see that the Astonishing Ant-Man was hanging on for dear life.
"You ready, Spector?" Carter asked as she stepped up to the open hatch, tying her long blonde hair back as it whipped in the wind. Spector nodded, then glanced back to the door leading to the cockpit.
"Frenchie-"
"Knew the risks," Carter snapped. She leaned out the hatch and Spector saw her pale before turning back. "I hope he makes it, and if he’s half as good as you claim he will. We can’t wait though. We jump!
"The Gaffer modified these anti-gravity harnesses a bit since Fury and Cap stole them off the Yellow Claw. They’re still shit, limited flight burns ‘em fast, but they go up and down real well. Leap out as far as you can and don’t ignite until you’re sure you’re well away from the transport. The exhaust will kill you sure enough if you get caught in it."
Spector nodded, glancing at Marko and Lang. They were not wearing harnesses.
"What about-"
Scott Lang held out his hand gingerly, cupping the two tiny flying ants that he cradled. "Meet Clark and Kent," Lang smirked, "I’m covered."
"An’ I can land with the best of ‘em, son," Marko said with a laugh. "I ever tell ya ‘bout when the Hulk knocked me off a plateau in New Mexico? I was-"
"Later, Cain," Carter cut in, her hand on the big man’s arm almost tenderly. "Jump now, talk later."
"You got it, babe."
Without another word, Cain Marko, the Unstoppable Juggernaut simply stepped from the plummeting transport, sure of the fact that his armor and mystical force field would protect him. Spector turned and saw Lang standing in a misty cloud, and suddenly he was gone.
Too small to see without effort, the Ant-Man had shrunk and was probably halfway to the ground on the backs of his flying ants. Spector turned to Carter, then back to the locked door at the fore of the cabin-
"Have a little faith," Carter said as she leaped through the hatch.
"Be safe Frenchie…"
Marc Spector crossed his fingers and dashed for the door, leaping out into the freedom of the sky. It had been a long time…
The Great River,
The Savage Land:
Alpha, Beta, Delta, GAMMA…
"Well, that wasn’t so hard, now was it?"
Wolverine laughed as he popped his claws and slashed at the rubber life raft that had carried them through the hidden tunnel, up the river and into the Savage Land. It had been a hard row, but between him, the Black Panther, Puck and the Black Widow, the strong current never stood a chance.
"Easy for you to say, Logan," the Widow said as she shoved the team’s oars into the hollow beneath a tree at river’s edge. Natalia Alianovna Romanova, Natasha Romanoff, the beauteous Black Widow was dressed in her classic blacks, a jet jump suit trimmed in gold belt and bracers that housed her Widow’s Bite. She had her long auburn hair tied up in a tight bun, but Wolverine knew that it would be flowing about her shoulders before long.
"You’re built for this sort of thing- grunt work. I’m all about finesse."
Logan smiled to see his old friend’s smirk. It definitely reminded him of the old days, when he was running with the fledgling Alpha Flight and Canadian Defense Administration. He remembered that time in Minsk-
"Lady’s right, Logan," Eugene Judd said as he wadded up their cumulative foul weather gear and stuffed it into the submersible bag for disposal. "That current was a bitch- even for me."
"Yer jus’ getting’ soft Judd," Wolverine smirked, watching as the Panther slipped out into the jungle. There were few that Wolverine would ever admit to being better than he at recon- potentially. Three of them had accompanied him on this mission, and the Panther was the best of them all. "Flight’s makin’ you a pansy- Shorty. Maybe ya ought’a apply for Avengers mem-"
"Logan…"
Wolverine frowned, remembering at the Widow’s voice that the Avengers- a lot of them at any rate- had died along with the Fantastic Four, the Hulk and countless others during the battle with Onslaught. That left most of the world’s heroes dead- the favored heroes like the Richards’ and Captain America, Thor, Iron Man- all the pretty heroes. That in turn left the likes of the X-Men and SHIELD, Alpha Flight and Spider-Man, Dare Devil to pick up the pieces and hold the fort.
‘A World Without Heroes’ … That’s what people called it. What the hell were the X-men?
"Sorry, Tasha," Wolverine said with a shrug as he squatted next to Puck and began to help unload their meager equipment. There was not much in their gear; a survival pack with K-Rations and water, salt tablets, a compass, matches- the usual. There were packs for each, light but sturdy for quick travel through the jungle. Logan doubted that they would need any of the survival gear, but it was nice to know that Fury was thinking ahead.
"We’re about a day’s walk from the closest Fall People village," Wolverine said, popping a claw and scratching in the sandy riverbank. He made a long swath to indicate the Great River with an impression to indicate the mouth of the tunnel near the edge of Lost Lake. Further along he made an ‘X’ to mark the village, then another beyond-
"Here’s the Roxxon compound, what used to be New Britain. Last time I saw it, it was well manned and pumpin’ oil by the barrels. Now, who knows? I can only imagine Viper and Shaw loaded it up with the Sons of the Serpent and probably some Knights of Hellfire ta boot. It’s gonna be a problem-"
"Plus the Serpent Society, maybe?" Judd asked with a raise of his eyebrows.
"Probably." Wolverine stood and pulled a cigar from the watertight compartment on his belt. He pulled one for Puck as well, lighting them both as he watched the river flow. "Ain’t gonna be easy," he said with a slight smile as the Widow stepped up beside them. They all tensed as a shrill cry ripped through the otherwise calm, the roar of one of the great beasts that roamed the Savage Land. "’Course no one ever said it would be."
"And ‘no one’ was apparently right!"
The three heroes turned at the sound of the new, guttural voice. It was little more than a twisted snarl, barely more than an animal’s growl, but one Wolverine knew too well.
"Brainchild…"
Across the river, back near where the water flowed into the underearth cavern stood a group of all too familiar figures- at least in the lost realm of the Savage Land. They were six in all, creatures that were neither human nor mutant. They had been peaceful denizens of the Savage Land years before, at least until Magneto had used them in his experiments, trying to unleash the Mutant Gene. What the Master of magnetism had created were the Savage Land Mutates; a bunch of ugly, nasty freaks that made the Morlocks look pretty in comparison.
"I am so glad you remember me, Wolverine," the huge headed mutate called Brainchild said with a sneer. He was super-intelligent, almost on a level with Reed Richards or Doctor Doom for sheer scientific brilliance and his ability to create. He lacked wit though and was easily flustered outside of his makeshift labs. "It does warm my heart-"
"Yeah, well, I’ll be more’n happy ta cut it out an’ see just how warm," Wolverine snarled back, extending all of his adamantium claws at the sudden threat. He could see Brainchild’s flunkies moving in the background, setting position. The blind giant Gaza and four-armed Barbarus were taking the fore- the muscle of the group. The frog man Amphibius was sneaking off to the left, crouched and ready to leap, while Lupo the wolf man was snaking off the other direction, probably summoning his animals for help. Far to the rear was Equilibrius, sticking to the shadows, his huge eyes glowing. He was probably the most dangerous- lacking Lorelei and the Piper- as he could bring the whole team down with a glance.
"Fool!" Brainchild continued, his rant an obvious distracting maneuver. "Did you think the Black King would leave any egress to the Savage Land unguarded? We knew of this tunnel, just as your yellow-haired friend Ka-Zar did-"
"Black King?" Puck whispered.
"Shaw," the Widow answered, adjusting her stance to keep Lupo at the edge of her sight, still watching the apparent leader. "Wolverine?"
"Wasn’t expectin’ this bunch a’ losers, Darlin’," Wolverine hissed around the butt of his cigar, taking a final puff before spitting it into the river. "But we can take ‘em, no sweat."
"I’ve read the files in Flight Control," Puck added, trying to listen as Brainchild rambled on, crushing the tip of his cigar between his tough, leathery fingertips. There was a hiss and swirl of blue smoke before Judd slipped the butt into the pouch on his belt. "Losers, yeah, but a tough bunch."
"Eugene’s right, Logan," the Widow said, watching a shuffling back in the foliage. She pointed as yellow eyes peered from the shadows; Lupo’s pack of wolves no doubt. "Don’t underestimate them."
"Yeah, whatever-"
"NO TALKING!"
Brainchild’s shrill shouts shocked everyone, his allies included. All eyes turned his way to see the scrawny body trembling, the big, bulbous head crimson with huge veins pulsing across the wide forehead. Brainchild was annoyed, on the verge of tantrum.
"You will surrender or we’ll cut you down where you stand!" Brainchild screeched, jumping about and shaking his fists. "Now!"
"Surrender, shit for brains?" Wolverine cursed, grinning wickedly as he glanced to the treetops detecting a subtle shift in the shadows there. "That ain’t gonna happen. Bring it…" He curled his fingers, gesturing for the Mutates to attack, and with a shriek Brainchild complied-
"KILL THEM!"
S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrier- Excelsior,
The Eternity Mountain Range,
Antarctica:
ALPHA, Beta, Delta, Gamma…
"Echo Station’s lost contact with Beta Squad, Nick."
Colonel Nicolas Joseph Fury, Director of SHIELD nodded as he listened to the Contessa read her reports. He had figured that the UN run relay station would lose contact eventually, but he did not think it would be quite so soon. He shifted the butt of his cigar from one corner of his mouth to the other, biting down on the bit to keep his teeth from gnashing as he turned to the Contessa.
Like he, the Contessa Valentina de Allegro was dressed in a standard field uniform and wearing a parka over top. She had the hood drawn up, but her nappy was pulled down as she read, the icy winds and sub zero temperatures making her breath frost and bringing a rosy color to her pale cheeks. He could see her lips chapping in the bitter cold as she spoke-
"No report of casualties before loss of radio, and the emergency beacon is still broadcasting-"
"Which means squat," Fury cut her off, returning his gaze to the vast expanse of white that stretched as far as his eye could see. The great continent of Antarctica was the largest landmass on the planet, and the most inhospitable for most of the year. Great flows of ice clogged Marguerite Bay, the ocean lost to the endless sea of white that melded right into the land. Billowing clouds rolled across the ground itself; Meteorological Division officially labeling the growing storm a blizzard. At the farthest reaches of his sight he could just make out the dark plume of smoke rising beyond the horizon, the black emissions of Mount Erebus on the edge of the Ross Sea.
"The Transport itself could have vaporized and the damned ‘Black Box’ would still transmit. It was built ta last."
"True," the Contessa agreed, pulling her mask back up over her lower face with a barely suppressed shiver. "But you know that the pilot could have jettisoned the cockpit from the shell. If he’s half as good as Spector boasts-"
"He is," Fury said with a nod. He shifted his gaze higher, his one good eye scanning the sky, shocking blue above the clouds. "But even he might not be prepared for some a’ the shit passes for air traffic down there. God knows the weather ain’t-"
Fury stopped in mid-sentence, and the Contessa quickly followed his gaze to see just what had caught his attention. High above she saw the slim, dark figure soaring overhead; black cloak and silver hair streaming behind in the violent winds. Lightning seemed to spark and crackle about the woman as she waved her arms about in grand gesture, riding the invisible currents of air as though she were born in the sky. She was glorious to behold-
"Storm…"
"Yeah," Fury said, nodding. "Good thing Xavier relented an’ loaned us his weather witch an’ the elf after all. Pity we gotta waste her up there though, tryin’ to hold this squall under control."
"I can’t imagine how worse it might be without her," de Allegro agreed, pressing her hand to her ear and turning from the whistling wind as her radio crackled.
"We just lost contact with Delta Squad."
Fury grimaced, biting down on his cigar again, harder than before. "This stinks, Val. I should be down there. I hate this waitin’ crap-" He felt the Contessa’s hand on his shoulder-
"I do too Nick," she soothed, her voice barely heard over the rushing wind. "But you’re needed here, at Command to coordinate. You are the only one who’s worked with all the agents of every squad, not to mention being the only one to face Viper and Shaw. You know how everyone involved thinks, Colonel, and that makes you THE most important player in all of this; the lynch pin."
Fury sighed, his cigar suddenly cold and wet. "Yeah, I know," he said as he plucked the bit from his lips and stared at it, rolling it between thumb and forefinger. It was dead. He flicked it over the safety rail, watching as it tumbled away, out of sight with distance, vanishing.
"But I don’t gotta like it."
The Eternity Mountain Range,
Beneath Mt Terror:
Alpha, Beta, DELTA, Gamma…
"We’ve lost the radio, Mein Freunds."
Kyle Richmond sighed, his breath loud behind the respirator he wore as he gasped in the heat. He was sweating bullets, sweltering in his old costume of blue and black, even with the cowl pulled back and the glider wing-cape folded up into a pack to prevent its singing in the stray gouts of flame or leaking lava that occasionally seeped from the sizzling walls. His feet were hot and he wondered how much longer his boot soles would last. He wondered how Nightcrawler was managing, little better than bare-foot.
"Tired, rich man?"
Richmond scowled at the sneering sound coming from the man in the lead. He could barely see Shiro Yoshida for the glare of the fiery blasts that his mutant powers were creating, scorching a path through the long, abandoned tunnel that had been drilled out years before by the X-Men Storm and Cyclops. Wolverine had told the tale at the strategy meeting the previous night; how the X-Men had battled Magneto in one of his old bases lodged in the bowels of an active volcano on Antarctica. The X-Men- as was their way- had beaten the Mutant Master of Magnetism and destroyed the base in the process, unwittingly releasing the fury of the volcano onto their heads in the process. It was only the quick thinking of Cyclops that had saved the team; he and the others, Banshee, Colossus, and Wolverine digging through solid rock to escape while Storm held the volcano’s lava at bay. They had drilled a tunnel right out into the Savage Land, remarkably, and it was that very tunnel that he, Nightcrawler and Sunfire were now reopening, trying to find a backdoor into the Viper’s nest that may have been forgotten.
"Hot, Sunfire, not tired." Kyle Richmond AKA Nighthawk wiped sweat from his face and brow again, pausing to take deep breaths as the mutant flared his power about the tunnel, charring another vein of lava to stop its flow. Mount Terror was not a large volcano, nor was it active relatively speaking, but magma still burbled beneath its outer cone and their movements as they blasted their way through the earth tended to break through the thin crust releasing streams of lava and geysers of steam. "Keep going. I’ll manage."
Richmond saw Sunfire smirk as he glanced back. Despite his arrogance, Richmond knew that the man took his duty seriously and was keeping check on his teammates. They were lucky actually that he had volunteered for the mission- of course after the Japanese government had given him the proper incentive. Truly, if the Viper’s plan to destroy the world’s metals- if that was the plan- came to fruition, Japan would suffer as much as, if not more than the United States.
"How about you, freak?" Sunfire chuckled, directing his attention to Nightcrawler. "Not too hot for you?"
Kurt Wagner laughed, his fangs sparkling as he grinned almost ferally. "Anything you can dish out, hot head…"
"Hah!" Sunfire laughed, returning his attention to blasting at the rock. "Just like old times, eh Elf?"
"Almost, Shiro…" Richmond heard Nightcrawler sigh, a sound of regret in his voice. "Almost…"
Sunfire went silent then as well. Richmond remembered vaguely that the two men had been members of the X-Men years before, back when Xavier had gathered a new team to save the old. He had heard there had been friction in that team in the beginning, but what team of strangers did not have a rough time meshing in the beginning. He had heard too that they had lost a member early on…
There was a rush of over-heated air, a sudden drop in pressure as sunlight suddenly exploded into the shaft. NightHawk winced as he stared forward, shielding his eyes at the blinding glare even as Sunfire doused his flame and fire, his silhouette turning back in the frame of the opening.
"Tomodachi… We are through."
"About time-"
Richmond heard Nightcrawler curse under his breath just before the telltale ‘Bamf’ and the sudden burst of sulfur that billowed about him. The X-Man had teleported out of the tunnel as quickly as he could, leaving the ex-Defender to fend for himself. Richmond hurriedly climbed the last few yards, following Sunfire out into a world of pure imagination.
Far in the distance he could see the mountains; the Eternity Range rising into the perpetual cloud cover that kept the huge valley shielded from outside view and warm against the outer cold of Antarctica. Massive creatures lost in time soared in the bright sky, hovering in the warmth on widespread wings. Dense, verdant jungle stretched as far as the eye could see, up the very slopes of the far off pale mountains. A huge lake sparkled in the distance of the valley below, blue and unpolluted, reflecting the clouds. It was truly fantastic and took all of their breath away, if only for a moment.
"Phantastisch…"
"For once we are in agreement, elf," Sunfire said to Nightcrawler’s exclamation. "It is indeed, fantastic."
"It is," NightHawk said as he pulled his cowl into place, unfurling his glider wings. He tossed his rebreather aside, no longer needing it in the pure air of the Savage Land. "We’re not here to sight see though, unfortunately. ‘Crawler, do you remember the way to the village of the Fall People?"
Nightcrawler nodded, dropping his air mask along with Sunfire and Richmond’s. "About twenty miles south as I recall. Perhaps a bit further. We were a bit harried last time I was here."
"Close enough. I suggest we stick to the ground while we can. We should be fine, but no point in announcing our presence before we’re ready-"
"Too late for that, rich boy."
NightHawk turned at the sound of the voice. He saw the members of the Serpent Society as they stepped from hiding, waiting. His mind raced, trying to remember who they were, and their powers, not really too curious as to how they knew just where to be at the proper time.
There were four of them. Most impressive was the one called Bushmaster. He was a black man that had had his body surgically altered; the lower half becoming a bionic representation of a snake. He was big- well long- and had fang-like spikes jutting from the backs of his hands. Behind him was the big woman, Anaconda. She had gills implanted into her face and throat so she could survive under water, and as Richmond recalled her arms were bionic as well, with the ability to stretch. She was a strong one. The Rattler was at her side, another mechanically enhanced man. He was a poor man’s Scorpion, strong and with a tail that produced killer Sonics when it rattled and shook. Behind all the rest was Princess Python, perhaps the most pathetic member of the group in general. Her only real power lay in her ability as a snake charmer- whether mutant or not- and her pet snake; a Boa. Usually, that is. NightHawk’s eyes widened to see the massive thing curled about her legs and rising up, far overhead, the tail lost in the foliage. The creature was huge, monstrous, obviously prehistoric and looked as though it could swallow most of them in one gulp.
"You thin' Viper didn’t know about this tunnel?" Anaconda sneered. "She knew, an’ she was ready."
"Ororo…"
"What?" Richmond asked as he glanced at Nightcrawler. The mutant hung his head, shaking it.
"Ororo wore the Serpent Crown briefly, remember?"
Sunfire sighed. "Fine time to recall that, Wagner. Any other memories popping into your mind now that you think about it?"
Nightcrawler scowled. "Only one-"
There was a rushing of wind and noise, like compressed thunder as fire and brimstone erupted where the mutant had stood. Kurt Wagner vanished in the billowing cloud only to reappear over Bushmaster’s head a heartbeat later. With a twist in mid-air, Nightcrawler slammed his fists into the man’s temples, the X-Man’s tail wrapping tightly about his throat, cutting off the Serpent’s air even as he gasped. Nightcrawler simply fell, dragging the flailing body of Bushmaster in his wake, his tail directing the man’s skull towards a jutting rock. Everyone winced at the sound of bone slamming into stone and Bushmaster’s long, snake-like body spasmed once and fell slack. Nightcrawler crouched, ready to spring again as he whipped his tail free-
"I hate snakes!" he said, vanishing again.
And the battle was joined…
Roxxon Oil Compound- New Britain,
Lost Lake,
The Savage Land:
Viper gazed upon all that she had created and found that it was good.
She watched as her minions, the mind-controlled masses of the Sons of the Serpent, the Knights of Hellfire as well as the simple workers of Roxxon Oil labored like ants, scurrying about, unpacking the numerous crates of golden, inert Vibranium. Drones- they were worker drones and she was the queen directing her subjects to build a mighty mound, a mountain of gold. Amidst them too were the Fall People, ignorant savages at her beck and call, servile drudges controlled by the mutant abilities of Lorelei and the Piper. An army of devoted slaves that hung on her every word, obeyed her every command, lived for her slightest whim.
She gazed upon the great mound as it grew higher and higher. The inert Vibranium that she had salvaged from the bottom of the Atlantic glistened in the crisp, clean air, sparkled in the queer sunlight of the Savage Land. Viper licked her full, green lips, her forked tongue whipping about as she hissed in satisfaction. Her cool blood seemed to boil with anticipation, the chemicals flowing through her body ready to explode-
"Please…"
Viper blinked, her reveries broken by the whining voice. She glanced back, her hand brushing the hilt of her whip to free it as she smiled at the pathetic creature hanging from the transport apparatus. The machine was a bulky and disheveled thing, not that she cared. It did the job, and that was the important thing. It had taken little convincing to get the big-headed little freak- Brainchild- to expand on the technology, creating the rag-tag apparatus that had eventually transferred the Vibranium from the holds of Shaw’s tankers in the Ross Sea here to the Roxxon Compound in the heart of the Savage Land. A bit of ego stroking, an occasional pet on that over-sized head and the Mutie freak was putty in her hands. It was a pity that Sidewinder was still needed to make the machinery work as it was keyed to his psyche somehow, but it was a small price to pay. The man had served his purpose after all.
Viper looked up at Voelker, stripped naked and hanging limply, spread-eagled in the midst of the apparatus. He almost resembled the Christ in an odd, pathetic sort of way, crucified for the glory of the new world order that was about to commence. The first martyr of the new age. Wires and electrodes hung from his battered, naked form, IV leads keeping him alive and just conscious enough to be of use.
"Please…" he whimpered once again, and Viper shook her head, approaching him. She reached up, stretching up on tiptoe as she jammed a wad of cloth back in his mouth, silencing his cries and pleas. She flipped the leather strap back over his mouth to hold in the wad, gagging him, then patted his cheek, the leather helmet locked to his head warm even through her own gloves. She unfurled her whip…
CRACK!
Seth Voelker writhed in his bonds as the leather of Viper’s whip ripped across his skin, drawing a gash oozing blood. He screamed into the gag as she struck again, and again…
And again…
"You annoy me Sidewinder," Viper hissed, coiling her whip and hooking it back to her belt. "You always have. Be thankful that I need you just a bit longer."
Viper turned away as Voelker sagged in his bonds, unconscious again. Let him sleep, gather his strength. He had one final task ahead of him, and then he would be free.
"Viper!"
Viper sighed as Shaw strode forward, a look of concern on his face, wrinkling his brow. He stopped just short of where she stood, just out of range of her whip. He almost looked afraid as he stared up at the helpless Sidewinder.
"I saw that!" he said, scowling, pointing. "Was that necessary? We need him-"
"He loves it, Shaw," Viper hissed, licking her lips again, her teeth. "Why so worried? I have done this before."
"Yes, but…" Sebastian Shaw turned slightly to look out over the compound. He stared at the growing mound of Vibranium, his eyes sparkling in wonder. "Are you sure this will work?"
"Getting cold feet, Shaw?" Viper chuckled, inching closer, her eyes scanning the compound momentarily. "I had thought you made of sterner stuff. Can’t you feel it? Can’t you taste it? We are so close to victory. I only wish that fool Captain America had not up and died." Viper sighed, taking another step-
"Ah well, I shall have to be satisfied with outwitting Fury."
"Hang Fury, witch!" Shaw snapped, spinning to glare at her, ignoring that she was suddenly an arm’s length away. "I want assurance that my stockpiles will survive your mad scheme."
"I’ve assured you, Sebastian," Viper cooed, her hand reaching out, touching his arm. She could feel the muscles bulging beneath his own Hellfire jumpsuit, his archaic clothing discarded for the duration in the humidity of the Savage Land. "Your own technicians have assured you. Your metals will be safe. When the world shatters you will be well prepared to pick up the pieces. You simply need faith; in your own resources, and in me."
"I trust my resources, woman," he cursed, his gaze crackling with anger and uncertainty. "It’s you that makes my skin crawl."
"Pity," Viper whispered, shaking her head. She caressed his cheek, the smooth leather of her gloves smooth and warm on the rough stubble of his beard. She smiled, a cold and vile thing. "I had hoped you would be stronger, Sebastian…"
Sebastian Shaw’s eyes seemed to glaze over then, his body quivering. Viper heard the soft, melodious voice but it meant nothing to her. Just pretty sounds really. To Shaw however, the voice was akin to the angels, hypnotic. He was just a man after all. Viper grinned as she put her hand on his shoulder, directing him to his knees, then to all fours. She slid the toe of her filthy boot beneath his face, grinning wickedly. Shaw knew what to do.
Viper glanced at the Mutate Lorelei as she stepped from the trees. She watched as the woman sang, sealing Shaw into her hold, tying his will to her own- and Viper’s. Lorelei sighed finally, taking a deep breath and smiling as Viper waved her away, the song complete.
Viper gazed at the mound again, adjusting her stance as Shaw groveled at her feet, licking the mud from her boots. She watched as little by little her drones made it higher and higher. Soon enough it would be time to teleport in the Antarctic Vibranium that would spark the dormant Vibranium she had gathered back to life. The resulting wave of destruction would destroy the world’s metals- eventually. It would shatter the world, throw it into disarray. It might well destroy the Savage Land too, and kill her in the process, though she did not care. Not really. It was the end result that mattered.
Nihilism…
Chaos…
It was the ultimate goal that mattered in the end. She was ready to die for her beliefs- her cause.
Viper smiled.
It was just a matter of time now…
Minutes really.
No time at all…
To be continued…
Story © Curt F 2005
Next Issue: Well, everyone seems to be in place and the clock is ticking. Will the heroes deal with the villains in time to stop Viper’s plan, or will she eradicate all the metal in the world throwing the planet into chaos? Be here to find out for…
The Big Squeeze!