"Well, I'm certainly not as adapt as you or Master Robin when it comes to these electronic devices."
"Alfred...you helped me build it."
"Indeed I did, sir." Sometimes I think Alfred just says these things to make sure I know how invaluable he is.
"...And?"
"I am transmitting a set of coordinates as we speak, sir. The signal appears to have originated from a building in East Palo Alto. It was last owned by a defunct software manufacturer called MacroHard." Superman and I share a look and I can tell we're thinking the same thing.
We don't want to know...
"Understood." I shut down the link. "That's not too far away. It won't take us long to get there."
But the look on Batman's face tells me all I need to know. "But walking is good, too."
*****
It takes Batman and I five minutes to cover the ground to the dilapidated building. The MacroHard sign on the front crookedly hangs off the building's front.
"There's someone on the fourth floor, right side of the building. I can hear snoring. Whoever it is, they're sleeping."
I rap my finger against a table in one of Two Face's many safe houses across Gotham. He called me in after the Gordon fiasco, and apparently he's "not happy". Hard to believe coming from someone who's face is always partially in a smile.
The door of the room I'm sitting in opens, and in walk two of Harv's middle men. I can't help but roll my eyes. Dent thinks he's got me in the palm of my hand. It makes me sick. I can't even get the respect of the criminals in the city, let alone the cops.
What the hell happened here.
"Listen, Joker," one of the no-names starts to talk, "Two Face really appreciates what you're doing for him, but he thinks-"
I can' take this anymore. I can't be the pawn in the power struggle between the MCU and Two Face. I'm not a player on the field. I'm the owner. I'm the boss. I'm the god.
"No," I hiss. "You listen. I'm not taking orders anymore. This isn't Dent's city. This isn't Gordon's city. This isn't the Bat's city. Gotham is mine. SO I'm gonna give you a choice. You can work for me...or not."
"Hell no. We're loyal-"
*BANGBANG*
Two shots from my "toy" revolver in my pocket cut through their chests, killing them instantly. I take another little trinket, this a wind up bomb with legs, from my coat and place it in the center of the room, and wind it up.
I walk slowly out of Two Face's building and smile as flames burst through the windows and the heat explodes into the Gotham night. People scatter at the sight of me.
About time the cretins give me the respect I deserve.
"Ohhhhh Gotham!" I call out to all those that can hear. "Joker's home! And now the mad dog is off the leash!"
"Alright, listen up," Parker Robbins says to three lieutenants gathered around him in the Cheetah Club's back room.
"That ****ing clown, Joker is dead. He crossed the line last night. Burned down one of our safehouses. I want him dead. LaMonica, Dillon, I'm putting you two on it."
Johnny LaMonica nods while Max Dillon smiles, snapping his fingers together and sparking lightning.
"In case you two can't get him, I want Pete to send word out into the streets. I'm putting a bounty on that mother****er's head. A hundred thousand dead, two hundred thousand if he's found alive and brought to Face."
"I'm on it," Skinny Pete replies. "By the end of the day, all the Narrows and half the East End will all know it."
Robbins nod his head and looks around. Seconds crawl by.
"Well? Get the **** out there!" Robbins snaps.
The three men scatter out the backroom and out into the strip club's main area. Instead of sticking around to watch the female talent, the three men leave through the club's front door.
"10-11 to 10-12, I got the eyeball Tillman, LaMonica, and Dillon all leaving out the front door," Charlie Fields says into his walkie talkie. The GCPD detective is stationed in an unmarked car down the block from the strip club.
"Tillman is going down Seneca Avenue in a black SUV, the two hitters are rolling down Falkland in a black Lexus."
"10-4," Marcus Driver replies. Driver's unmarked car pulls out of an alley and begins to follow Tillman while a gray van driven by Kasper Cole follows LaMonica and Dillon.
*****
"What do you think?" Deputy Mayor Arnold Krohl asks Councilman David Kane. Both men are in Kane's office at City Hall. In Kane's hand is a red, white, and blue campaign poster with the worlds "Krohl For Mayor: Change We Can Believe In" stamped on it.
"Nice colors. Don't like the slogan, though."
"Too generic? I told Tommy that, but he said change is a good word to use when you're up against a two-term incumbent running for a third term."
"So you're serious, huh? Actually gonna give Hill a run?"
Krohl shrugs his shoulders.
"I've been Deputy Mayor for eight years. I think it's time to either take the big chair, or head on home and do something else."
"Yeah, I got that feeling too," Kane says. Tugging at his tie, the councilman looks out the window. "My council seat is coming up this year. I'm not sure if I want to go for a third term, or try to do something else."
"Well, there are some seats in the state senate and congress opening up. Hell, why not try to take a run at the US Senate seat? Graham retired. It's about time we had another Gothamite on Capital Hill for us."
"I don't know," Kane says with a wry smile, "I've got some ideas I'm kicking around in my head. I'm playing wait and see with an idea. If it pans out, I think I know what I want to do next."
"Good for you. So I have you vote in the election?"
Kane sticks out his hand and shakes Krohl's hand vigorously. "Who the hell else would I vote for, Anrie?"
*****
"You see all this paper work ****?" Deputy Commissioner Grogan asks Colonel Flass as the two men sit in his office. "I thought you said the Major Crimes Unit was taken care of?"
"I thought they were, sir. But-"
"I don't want to hear excuses, Flass. Mayor Hill told us to take care of that unit, and I thought we did. You're CID commander."
"And the MCU commanders report directly to Gordon on this. I thought I had them stone-walled, but they're some resilient ****suckers."
Grogan nods and leans back in his chair. Running his fingers through his gray and thinning hair, the elderly Deputy of Operations begins to formulate a plan.
"I got it," he says as he hits the intercom on his desk. "Carolyn, get Lieutenant Williams from the S&D department to come up to my office please."
"Statistics and Data?" Flass asks with a bewildered look.
"I want this quarter's crime statistics. I think it's time we start cooking the numbers."
Rhodey sat within the satellite, his systems hot-wired into the systems within. As well as recharging his armour and cybernetics, the satellite also let him synch in and both upload and extract data. Essentially, the place was built as an all-in-one pit-stop.
As diagnostics were run and the nano-machines repaired his damage, Rhodey spun the satellite and focused upon those he loved. Down on Earth, Iron Man was tending to business as usual, Pepper, Happy, Jarvis and Rhodeys own mother were all fine. High above the planet though, Jim couldn't help but feel a pang of regret. Down on the ground, everyone he ever loved and cared about went about there business as normal and here he was, hooked up to some of the most advanced tech in the world, like a modern day Frankenstein monster.
-LEVEL THREE META-HUMAN EMERGENCY IN PROGRESS-
"Bring it up on main screen"Rhodey barked at the satellite, watching as the honeycomb of images of his loved ones became a filter of multiple news and local authority reports.
"...Reports are coming in that a Super Human terror attack has devastated at least three villages in Kazakhstan and is currently advancing upon the capital city of Astana. Official numbers regarding casualties are unknown at this time but figures are estimated to be over a hundred at this point, with expectations that those numbers would rise exponentially should the terrorist threat make it to the capital..."
Rhodey sighed and released himself from the harness that was refining his tech.
"Looks like I've got work to do"he grumbled.
Jettisoning from the satellite, War Machine fired himself towards the Earth. As he entered the atmosphere, his systems realigned, constituting from the intense heat and pressures being encountered. Within, Rhodey barely felt a thing on what was left of his organic body.
As he diverted his course, heading for the largest landlocked country in Europe, Rhodes began to scan for metahuman activity. Up on his HUD flares flickered and streamed information. There was plenty of activity in Russia, China and various other surrounding countries, but right now about five miles outside of Astana, one large blip was going crazy.
"Computer. Track and Zoom. I want a visual".
Without hesitation, a stream of information flashed before his eyes as systems uplinked with the satellite and fed him all the information he needed. One image, live and uncensored made him scowl.
"Okay" Rhodey growled. "What in the hell is that?!"
As Rhodey swept down onto the scene, the meta threat was terrorising a local village, corpses and fire littering the scene. As a violet blade swept through an elderly man, Rhodey opened fire on the monster, taking it by surprise.
Rhodes landed between the terrorist and the civilians, blocking them from further harm. "Okay kid, I'm not sure what the hell your problem is, but this is the end of the road. How about you make this easy for us both and- "
Rhodeys words were cut off as a bolt of pure energy punched into his chest plate and sent him flying backwards. Rhodes recovered enough to roll away from the second assault, and came to his feet. "Why do you suckers never take the easy way out?" he complained, tracking the creature as it bore down on him. Rhodes lifted both hands, hearing the whine as repulsors charged and fired a hot blast of energy at his foe.
With little effort the creature deflected the blasts into the ground with a violet crescent blade.
On his HUD Rhodes checked the readouts, but to no avail.
TARGET: UNKNOWN
ABILITIES: UNKOWN
WEAPONRY: ALIEN. UNKNOWN.
Rhodes leapt forward, guns blazing. In shock, Rhodes saw the bullets swatted away as the violet weapon upon the arm of his enemy whirled and twirled, almost as if it had a mind of its own. As he closed in, his lifted his arms once more, replusors charging.
SHUNK!
"ARGH! SON OF A B*TCH!"Rhodey cried as his right cybernetic arm was severed from his body.
WHAM!
The force of the hit sent Rhodes back into the dirt, minus one arm. Before he could recover, the threat was on top of him, pinning him to the ground with a boot.
"What are you?!" Rhodey asked as the monster stood staring at him.
"I'm dead"it replied simply. "I'm K.I.A. I'm dead. You've seen me. Now you're on the list".
"What list?" Rhodey asked. The shoulder joint from where his arm was severed spat and sparked. The readouts within the suit flashed up a series of diagnostics.
REMOTE ACCESS TO LIMB ESTABLISHED.....
CONTROL SWITCHED.....
REMOTE LIMB ACTIVE.
WEAPONS ARMED.
"My list. Seen me. You must die soldier".
From behind the creature, Rhodeys severed arm leapt to life as Rhodes took remote control. Crawling into position behind the enemy, the wrist mounted weaponry flared into life, taking the monster in the back of the neck.
K.I.A turned to face the threat and Rhodes seized the opportunity, grabbing at the creatures leg and threw him across the battlefield and into a small building at the edge of the village. Rhodes scanners switched to thermal as he scanned for K.I.A. Finding him recovering, Rhodey fired two rockets, dropping the building around the threat.
Rhodes marched to the debris, stopping to let the magno-locks re-engage his arm to his body. The debris began to rumble though as a battered and torn K.I.A tried to emerge. Rhodes levelled his weapons once more. "NO! DON'T! YOU'LL KILL HIM!"
Rhodeys turned to locate the source of the voice. In the heat of battle he hadn't noticed the Humvee arrive on the scene, or the woman that now raced towards him and the downed enemy. Ignoring Rhodey, she climbed across the rubble to where K.I.A was struggling to free himself and jabbed a long needle into the targets neck. K.I.A went still almost instantly.
"You want to tell me what the hell is going on here?"Rhodes asked, as she climbed back down from the destroyed remains.
Brushing herself off, she stood up straighter and looked War Machine up and down. "You're Iron Man right? Like the paint job".
"No" Rhodey replied flatly. "Iron Man's the other guy. They call me the War Machine".
"Oh. Pleasure to meet you War Machine, I'm Bethany Cabe, I work for an organization called Cadmus".
As she mentioned both names, already Rhodes was accessing various databases. Cadmus and Cabe flashed up more than enough bedtime reading material. Rhodes consumed it all in seconds.
"Really? Cadmus is a genetic research company. Is that what this is?"Rhodes pointed a thumb over his shoulder to where a team of operatives were uncovering the unconscious body of K.I.A.
Endo sighed and put her hands on her hips, staring intently at the ground. "Yeah, something like that". She said. "He's a clone of a young soldier that had died during field operations. Unfortunately, the young clone saw the corpse of his progenitor and it had... unusual... side effects on his psyche".
Rhodes scowled behind his faceplate. "Yeah, unusual to the extent that he has murdered over three hundred people, Cabe. What do you plan on doing with him?"
"We'll take him back to base, put him in stasis and try to repair his mind".
"...and failing that?"
"Disposal. Sivana is ruthless like that".
"Sivana?"
"Doctor Sivana. Heading up the cloning project. We can grow full replica bodies from only a small sample of original DNA. Sivana is really quite a genius".
Rhodes nodded as he pulled up information. It was limited though, most of it highly classified, even to his own invasive information gathering systems. Rhodes glanced across the scene to see the operatives placing the still form of K.I.A into a truck. Turning back to Bethany Cabe he placed a hand on her shoulder. "If you don't mind, I'm going to come along with you, just to make sure that he's safely contained".
MoonKnight checked his watch. 0200 hours. No useful intel as of yet, his shoulder ached, and worse still, it had started to rain. And not a light rain either. It was really coming down, fat and fast. Entire sheets of the stuff, so much so, it began to interfere with his vision.
He drew his cloak around him tightly, and tried to stay focused on the mission. It had been a few hours and there had been no discussion whatsoever of business. He was beginning to think that he had been wasting his time when a familiar voice spoke up.
Nice night, it said. And as if on cue, thunder cracked, and a whip of lightening ripped across the sky illuminating the whole world for the briefest of moments.
"Go away."
Now, now. Is that any way to talk to a god? And your own personal savior at that?
"You already got what you wanted."
And now I want to give you something.
"I don't need anything. I'm just watching them. Listening. It's surveillance. I need to concentrate. I don't want to miss anything."
So ?
"So there won't be any blood."
Hm. That's what you think.
"What?" Moon Knight stood up and looked around. "What did you say?" But, there was no answer.
There was no one there.
Nothing but shadows, and rain.
He looked skyward. It was dark and cloudy. There was no moonlight. He thought back to the days when it gave him strength, the moon. He realized that he had come to depend on it, that extra burst of strength and speed. His eyes narrowed on his fist as he opened and closed it. No. Nothing. Not an ounce of 'extra.' Then, he caught a whiff of something foul. Something he hadn't smelled in a long time. Death magic. It wafted in from the east and the reek of it cut through the crisp smell of rain like a hot knife through butter, growing more potent with every passing moment. The stench of incense and decaying flesh.
Peering into the darkness his mind searched frantically for the source. And seemingly right before his very eyes the shadows that had surrounded him had come to life, morphing into slender, man shaped figures.
Lots of them.
Steel glinted in the moonlight as a gust of wind caught his cape, snapping it back. Another chill worked its way down his spine, as he realized who they were.
A clan of demon worshipping undead assassins. The best in the business, and they were legion. It was not his lucky night.
Suddenly, in a rush of metal and black cloth they were on him, a swirling carnival of slashing blades, and powerful kicks. When the first one came, he ducked under a slashing sword cut, and delivered a massive blow to the ninja's rib cage. Then he snatched the sword from his limp hand, delivered another hard blow to another ninja, turned to his left and carved away the arm of a third one. As he continued to fight them off, someone managed to slice his arm. Though the cut wasn't immediately life threatening, it was still deeper than he would've liked.
He kicked out again, took a blow here, took a blow there, carved off a leg, then an arm, then a head. Then he took a hard kick to the chest, sending him skidding across the wet roof on his back. The pain in his shoulder flared to life, but there was no time to dwell on it. The business end of yet another sword came rushing down to meet him. He rolled to his left, and kicked out with his right leg. The creature's knee gave out with a sickening crack. Sparks flew as he rolled to his feet and blocked a quick flurry of attacks from a pair of opponents.
Attacking, he amputated an arm, chopped off a hand, then plunged the sword deep into someone else's chest. Spurts of green blood filled the night air. And still they came. Four more crept towards him. His sword flashed, and four heads fell at his feet. He almost slipped in the mixture of blood and rain. And still they came.
They wouldn't give up. He knew that. It wasn't the first time he had come into contact with the clan of demon ninjas. He didn't know how he had made their hit list, but he knew there was only one way off of it. And that was death.
That's when an idea hit him. Spinning on his boot heels, he took off for the edge of the roof, the mobster's conversations still continuing in his earpiece. As he neared the ledge, he leapt for all he was worth, his powerful legs propelling him over the edge and straight for the adjacent building in a full on swan dive.
He exploded through the window in a shower of tinkling glass, hit the ground, and dispersed the impact by immediately going into a shoulder roll.
Kazakov and the other gangsters stood, automatic weapons drawn. Before they could open fire on him, the platoon of Hand operatives came crashing through the rest of the windows. The gangsters didn't hesitate, and the air was ripped apart by gunfire. Clouds of green mist seeped into the room from the ninja's bullet riddled bodies. But still they kept coming.
One of the men tried to reload his weapon, a sword flashed, blood spirted, and his arm hit the floor, still holding the pistol. More swords flashed, arms and legs lashed out, and bullets split everything in their path. The room was awash in red and green blood from the two groups of combatants.
Moon Knight, still clutching a sword, stayed low to the ground as he dashed for the door. One of the ninjas slashed at his back opening up a bloody wound. Wincing in pain, Moon Knight whirled, blade extended. The creature's head hit the floor with a thud, trailed by a viscous spray of emerald green. Moon Knight snatched open the door and stumbled out into the hallway, smearing the walls with his own blood.
Glorious! Glorious!Khonshu howled with pleasure.
He descended the stairs as fast as his battered body would allow, his mind racing with thoughts about which of his enemies had the money as well as the connections to hire the Hand. Through blurred vision, he saw a young woman, early twenties, short brown hair, dressed like a waitress coming up the staircase. He screamed at her to go back, grabbed her by the arm and continued down the steps. She screamed and fought, but his powerful hands gripped her like a vice.
"What do you want from me?" she cried.
"To help you."
As he rushed down the stairs he noticed that he couldn't hear the ninjas in pursuit. Only, that meant nothing, since they were the Hand. There could've been a thousand of them behind him and they wouldn't have made a sound.
Finally, Moon Knight and the girl burst through the building's main doors and out onto the street, back into the monsoon. He told the girl to get into her car and drive away from here.
She looked at him seriously confused, noticed that he was covered head to toe in blood, then did what she was told.
Through his earpiece he could hear the death cry of the last of Kazakov's crew. Shortly thereafter, he found himself surrounded by five of the black pyjama clad hostiles, all of them brandishing swords stained a bloody red. They must've leapt from the apartment sixty feet up and landed on the street below.
Silent. Graceful as cats.
In awe of their athletic prowess, yet unwilling to concede defeat, he sank into a crouch, raised his sword.
But the look on Batman's face tells me all I need to know. "But walking is good, too."
*****
It takes Batman and I five minutes to cover the ground to the dilapidated building. The MacroHard sign on the front crookedly hangs off the building's front.
"There's someone on the fourth floor, right side of the building. I can hear snoring. Whoever it is, they're sleeping."
My glove over his hand stops the man from finishing his statement. He tries to fight against me, but he doesn't have the strength or leverage. Or skill.
"Stop," I growl.
He instantly stops thrashing about. He just shakes.
"Do you know who I am?" He nods his head.
"Do you know what I can do to you if you lie?" He nods again. "And you know that I'll know when you lie?" Another nod.
"Good." I turn him around so he can see the man floating outside the window. "Now imagine what he can do to you."
I can't believe it. I never had high expectations for Lex Luthor, but this is low, even for him.
"Luthor, you always were the ultimate opportunist. I thought maybe something of this magnitude, maybe, I'd see a flicker of real emotion out of you, something human. But no... already you're working the angles, thinking of ways to make all that death and bloodshed benefit you and further your own twisted little agenda."
I feel the contempt rising within me, and the total disgust I have for this man is clear on my face.
"You weren't there. You didn't have to taste the vaporised blood and bone that floated around amidst the debris like mist. You swoop in after the fact, and talk about what a shame it is, and then you make this about our pissing contest. This isn't about us, you bald little tyrant! Hundreds of innocent people are dead!"
Hey folks, make sure you get a good shot of this!
No, stop thinking about that!
"I feel terrible about what happened, all those people who died, I... I get this sick feeling in my gut just thinking about them. And I am sorry, genuinely sorry, to all the people I hurt. But I owe them an apology, not you. We're not going to grovel on national television so you can have some jerk-off material, and we're not going to become poster boys for your latest witch-hunt."
I exchange a glance with Steve. I feel like I'm talking over him, he deserves a say too. So I decide to wrap things up.
"We told you all we know, Luthor. That's what this was about, right? Officially. We were here to help you with your investigation. We've helped, and we'll be leaving now. We came here willingly, of our own accord. If you want to hold us here for further questioning, then you'll have to clear it with my batallion of Jewish ninja-lawyers."
Luthor smiles. I don't know if he's going to relent, or ignore my demands and keep us here. Fighting our way out is not an option. As detestable as I find Luthor, he's still the President of the United States. Whatever happens, I hope we get out soon. Who knows what's happening while I'm stuck here...
I clear my throat and look at Stark, then at Luthor.
"I've stood by my country through a lot of things. I was a kid when pacifism and isolantionism made America weak in the face of National Socialism and Fascism. When the armies of darkness began to overrun Europe, we stayed out of it. I didn't agree with it, but I supported the decision. When our inactivity lead to Pearl Harbor being bombed, I was the first one to sign up and serve my country. That decision is why, nearly seventy years later, I'm still in the prime of my life. As much as I hated it, I was able to stomach the fact that we used this Patriot Act to spy on our own citizens and locked up terrorist without due processes in the name of national security. That was a lot to stomach, but I stood by all that, but this is the straw that broke the camel's back. Stamford is out fault, but I will not bow down to you and ask forgiveness for you. My duty is to protect the American people, not politicians. I'm a patriot first and foremost, and I will not stand by this act. It's unconstitutional and wrong."
I look Luthor in the eyes, steeling my gaze.
"A patriot must always be ready to defend his country from his government....sir."
Lex tried desperately to hold back his anger, these two had become a huge thorne in his side since taking office and in the case of Stark, since he had founded LexCorp. Still he had become a politician and right now words were much more powerful than laser blasts or ideals.
"I think you two are both mistaken in my ideas; I'm not asking you to apologise to me. I'm asking you to apologise to the American people now! They're scared, and rightfully so; Amazo wouldn't have had that amount of power if your team hadn't existed in the first place!
No person should be able to harness the power that you and your team of demi-gods hold and be allowed to walk freely in our society, but still we allowed you; and look what happened! Thousands of people have died! Our country and the rest of the world is thankful to you for helping us in times such as the recent Magneto incident, Galactus threat and the Apokolispe invasion. But that past isn't going to change what's happened in the last few hours; instead it further proves my point. If you were able to stop threats of that magnitude, than imagine what you can do to a human city! Stanford was just a fraction of what the Justice League can do this world, and as a leader of the free-world, I can't let that happen!
Now despite your reservations of me and my administration, I'm offering you two a chance to earn back the trust of the American public. Not only that, but by approving the new registration act; you do not risk your team-mates becoming wanted fugitives of the law."
Lex put down the S.H.A. agreement paper on the desk that Iron Man and Captain America were sitting in front of.
"The press are expecting a statement from the two of you within the hour, and if you truly were "heroes" then you wouldn't risk this danger on civilians and your band of super friends. I'll leave you with that to think about, gentlemen."
My glove over his hand stops the man from finishing his statement. He tries to fight against me, but he doesn't have the strength or leverage. Or skill.
"Stop," I growl.
He instantly stops thrashing about. He just shakes.
"Do you know who I am?" He nods his head.
"Do you know what I can do to you if you lie?" He nods again. "And you know that I'll know when you lie?" Another nod.
"Good." I turn him around so he can see the man floating outside the window. "Now imagine what he can do to you."
Our hacker, the man who broke into a satellite and rerouted it to Stamford....is a kid. Teenager, more appropriately.
"What the hell do you want," the kid cries out.
"Just take it easy, son. We want some information, that's all."
I float next to the window and open it up. Pulling myself inside, I notice that our hacker's sleep area is surrounded by junkfood, laptops, and PC towers.
"So. For starters, let's find out who you are. Can you tell us your name?"
"Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe go **** yourselves."
Was I this bad growing up in Smallville?
"Batman, our foul-mouthed friend doesn't feel like telling us his name. Do you have any suggestions as to how we can have him oblige us with said name?"
Our hacker, the man who broke into a satellite and rerouted it to Stamford....is a kid. Teenager, more appropriately.
"What the hell do you want," the kid cries out.
"Just take it easy, son. We want some information, that's all."
I float next to the window and open it up. Pulling myself inside, I notice that our hacker's sleep area is surrounded by junkfood, laptops, and PC towers.
"So. For starters, let's find out who you are. Can you tell us your name?"
"Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe go **** yourselves."
Was I this bad growing up in Smallville?
"Batman, our foul-mouthed friend doesn't feel like telling us his name. Do you have any suggestions as to how we can have him oblige us with said name?"
Holding the kid in a neck lock with one hand, and grab his arm with my other and add a rather vicious arm lock to the mix. I put pressure on his arm, and he almost buckles from the pain.
"Did you know there are two hundred six bones in the human body..."
Holding the kid in a neck lock with one hand, and grab his arm with my other and add a rather vicious arm lock to the mix. I put pressure on his arm, and he almost buckles from the pain.
"Did you know there are two hundred six bones in the human body..."
I've been slowly stemming the tide against corruption within the police department. It's working, and that's been the easy part.
The hard part is changing things up from the numbers game.
In the modern law enforcement apparatus, everyone worships the crime statistics, a felony and criminal act tabulation done by a computer based on incident reports. They're handy and let you know where crime is the worse and how to enforce it. But they do more harm than good. Politicians want to prove that crime is going down and so they hammer on the commissioner, the commissioner hammers on his people on down to do anything to reduce the felonies and get the arrest stats up.
That goes on for twenty years, and you have a situation very much like the one we have now. Patrolmen, plain clothes officers, and detectives come up with BS arrests on weak cases in order to keep the felony arrest numbers high. Although seventy percent of those arrests are acquitted by the DA's office, the arrests are up and the ones in charge can say crime in improving. They polish a turd into gold, and then lieutenants become captains, majors become colonels, and the current generation teaches the next generation how not to do the job.
As bad as arresting people on weak cases and no real evidence, cooking the numbers is worse. How that works is when the department receives the quarterly crime reports, people in the department of Statistics & Data go through the incident reports, fudging the paperwork until a stolen car becomes a borrowed car, thus downgrading the incident from a felony to a misdemeanor. Do that to enough paperwork and incident reports, crime has officially went down.
As bad as corruption is, I personally think the numbers game ruined the GCPD. The numbers take place of good police work. Cases are weak, criminals don't go to jail and are back on the street in weeks, and crime goes right back up. Using the stats to prove crime is going down is like using a stethoscope to prove that a cancer patient is healthy.
The GCPD played the numbers game during Gil Loeb's tenure as police commissioner, as well as Dennis Adams' time as police commissioner. All told, that's twenty-five years of bending the stats and unsatisfactory police work.
"Jim? You okay?"
I shake my head and turn towards Grogan.
"Yeah, I'm fine. I need to change into my Class A's if we're going to go before the sub-committee this afternoon. You'll excuse me."
"No problem."
Grogan nods and ducks out of my office. I remain behind my desk, lost in thought.
Turning this around is like turning around a cruise ship, it takes time and patience. But the news today is the first time my way of doing things has been vindicated.
"I think you two are both mistaken in my ideas; I'm not asking you to apologise to me. I'm asking you to apologise to the American people now! They're scared, and rightfully so; Amazo wouldn't have had that amount of power if your team hadn't existed in the first place!
No person should be able to harness the power that you and your team of demi-gods hold and be allowed to walk freely in our society, but still we allowed you; and look what happened! Thousands of people have died! Our country and the rest of the world is thankful to you for helping us in times such as the recent Magneto incident, Galactus threat and the Apokolispe invasion. But that past isn't going to change what's happened in the last few hours; instead it further proves my point. If you were able to stop threats of that magnitude, than imagine what you can do to a human city! Stanford was just a fraction of what the Justice League can do this world, and as a leader of the free-world, I can't let that happen!
Now despite your reservations of me and my administration, I'm offering you two a chance to earn back the trust of the American public. Not only that, but by approving the new registration act; you do not risk your team-mates becoming wanted fugitives of the law."
Lex put down the S.H.A. agreement paper on the desk that Iron Man and Captain America were sitting in front of.
"The press are expecting a statement from the two of you within the hour, and if you truly were "heroes" then you wouldn't risk this danger on civilians and your band of super friends. I'll leave you with that to think about, gentlemen."
Tony and I remain silent as Luthor leaves the room. I wait until the door is closed before I turn to Stark.
"That was......pleasant."
I turn back to the table and look down at the piece of paper.
"For the first time in years....I don't know what to do. I hate what this act can do to us, do to the superhuman community....but on the other hand, I try to put myself into the shoes of the regular people out there. What do we look like to them? Just a bunch of fools playing cowboys and indians, is what I think they'd say. We want to make the world safe, but in the process do we actually inspire people to join our cause and create more damage?"
I rub my face.
"I don't know....I just don't know. Are we saviors, or are we just abominations?"
I look back at Tony.
"Listen, Tony, whatever you do, I'll follow you. As a soldier, you have to be able to lead and follow. Stamford proved that my time for leading may be over, so I'm ready to follow."
"Are you ready to try again, Bruce?" Dr. Fate asks softly. I'm lying on the couch, eyes closed in meditation. Fate stands above me, his hand placed against my forehead.
"Okay."
What happens next is a trip. There's a bright flash of light as Fate sends me into my mind. During our time at the Tower of Fate, we have determined that the Devil Hulk personality was dormant within my subconscious. Something - someone - merely unleashed it. Knowing that, Fate proposed a magically-induced form of hypnosis to find out what else is lurking deep within the recesses of my mind. So far, our search has been largely fruitless.
"Puny Banner," the Hulk sneers as I appear before him. It's a strange sensation, moving through your own mind. Essentially, I'm standing in the middle of darkness, with the Hulk standing opposite to me. We've seen a lot of each other over the past few weeks.
"Bruce, go deep within your mind," Dr. Fate instructs. His voice resonates through my mind as if he's speaking through some mystical PA system. "Search out these alternate personalities. Bring them to the light."
I rub the bridge of my nose. This is so stupid. I'm in here - in my own mind, supposedly - yelling into a dark abyss in the hopes of finding...what? Another Devil Hulk? What if I unleash something that I can't control? I don't want to find the other "Hulks." I want to get rid of them. Nonetheless...
"Hello? Is anyone in here?" Behind me, the Hulk grumbles. Otherwise, there is silence. I hang my head in disappointment. "We're wasting our time. There's nothing else out there."
"Is someone else truly out there?"
My head shoots up suddenly. "Hello?"
"I say, it's quite nice to finally have someone to hold an intelligent conversation with..."
"You can imagine, I'm sure, what it's been like being trapped in here with this savage brute."
As Orm Marius is about to strike the depowered Thunder God, Thor meets his attack with the swing of his mighty hammer. The impact creates a loud boom in the water and the two separate. Crashing into one of the broken pillars of Poseidonis, Orm is quickly back on his feet. Chuckling as he wipes the blood from his mouth, he motions his hands and an underwater storm starts to form in the waters above them over the battlefield.
"Still you have some strength left. But I will have that hammer yet, and then you will be even more powerless to stop me!"
Creating a magical typhoon, the Ocean Master brings it to life and tries to suck Thor's magical hammer in it, but the hero clutches onto it with all his might. As the mighty motions of the typhoon tug on the hero and Mjolnir, Orm flies back at him, taking advantage. Packing each of his punches and kicks with volts of electricity stolen from by the Thunder God, Orm inflicts such pain it makes Thor's grip on Mjolrnir lessen with each blow.
"If only I could keep this power as my own! But I am a man of my word and once you are disposed of my comrade promised me what I have been searching for so desperately will then be mine. With that magic I will not only conquer the entire oceanscape but I will have the power to flood the very Earth! Every country, city, and town will suffer the fate that was Atlantis' 40,000 years ago! And I, the Ocean Master, will reign supreme; my namesake that much more true.".
Thor sat the hammer down on the ocean bed, and took a step back.
"I too am a man of my word. Should you lift my hammer, then it yours, and you can do with me as you would wish. I assume you think that all that power you stole makes you worthy to hold Mjolnir... so show me how worthy you are."
I stare at the massive figure before me. By all rights, he looks like the Hulk, but he's much more...groomed. And he's speaking in complete sentences.
"Pardon me! Where are my manners? I'm the Professor," the giant explains. He extends an enormous hand towards me.
Shaking his hand - which completely swallows mine in his grip - I mutter, "Professor Hulk."
"Oh God, no. Please," the Professor groans. "What kind of name is that, anyway? 'Hulk.' It even sounds uncivilized. Fitting, I suppose," he remarks as he looks over my shoulder at the Hulk. "Please, it's just 'the Professor.' And you must be Dr. Banner."
I nod, still dumbfounded by this turn of events.
"I can tell already that I'm going to prefer you to the others. I've honestly given it my best effort, but--"
"Others?" I interrupt. My heart sinks in my chest. There are others? This can't be happening.
The Professor nods. "Oh, yes. You surely didn't believe that the Hulk here was alone, did you? No, Dr. Banner, he's merely the strongest." The Professor pauses and clears his throat. "If I may, you might be able to benefit from learning to manage your emotions better. Then, this brute won't be let off the chain quite so easily."
I frown. Nothing like being lectured by some alternate personality residing within my mind. Besides, it's not like he's telling me anything I didn't already know. It's true that I haven't always worn my heart on my sleeve, so I guess I'm just as much to blame for the Hulk as the gamma radiation in my blood.
"How many others are there?" I ask, both curiously and cautiously. I'm beginning to get the feeling that I'm in way over my head here.
"I'm not really sure, to be quite honest. Most of us tend to keep to ourselves," the Professor explains. "I've tried to make a connection with some of them, but I find none of them intellectually stimulating."
"What about the Devil Hulk? Do you know him?"
The Professor frowns. "Quite unfortunately. It's not often that I meet another individual who I prefer less than the Hulk. More beast than man, that one is. I tend to steer clear of it, if possible."
"Where are the others?"
"I'm terribly sorry, Dr. Banner, but we'll have to continue this conversation at a later time. I'm afraid I have to go."
The Professor begins to fade into the oblivion.
"Go? Go where? Professor?"
My eyes pop open, and I'm greeted once more by the sight of Dr. Fate.
"Welcome back, Bruce."
I sit up on the couch, my conversation with the Professor still resonating in my mind. "What happened? I was just about to find out the truth about the other personalities." I look to Dr. Fate for an answer. "Why'd I come back out?"
"I decided that it was not the time to sink deeper into the abyss," Dr. Fate replies. "Your mind isn't ready, Bruce. You don't have that kind of control yet. If we had stumbled across another Devil Hulk, there's no guarantee that I would have been able to stop it from taking over your mind." He pats me on the shoulder. "Baby steps, Bruce."
I can already tell that I'm going to prefer you to the others...
What other secrets am I hiding deep within my mind?
I float silently above Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters, pondering whether this is truly my best move. The people within the walls of the old mansion would never trust me, and most probably loathe me. But I push those fears aside, as there is something looming over the mutant population that must be stopped. Something that will not stop until the super powered individuals of the world are wiped out.
And that thing is the government that is founded on the belief of protecting the rights of all its citizens. A government that is founded on the principle that all men are created equal.
But I know better. I know they need machines of terror to strike at us. That their base species could not take ours on. But the mutant race is scattered, and untrained. But I will change that here. The X-Men and Xavier's students will be prepared for what lies ahead.
I remove my helmet and try to project my thoughts to Charles Xavier, Charles...I know you can hear me.
Erik...? Is that you? You seem close.
I am, Charles. Come to your balcony. We must talk.
Almost immediately, I see Xavier's doors open, and his wheelchair rolls out onto the balcony near his room. I float down and land in front of him, "Hello, old friend."
"Erik, what are you doing here? Have you come to warn me about your next attack? Or your new plot to destroy the humans?"
"No, Charles," I respond curtly. "I'm here to help you and your students survive the coming onslaught. I'm sure you've seen Luthor's mechanical monstrosities. He means to get rid of us, Charles. And now he has the ability to do it. And the so-called registration act? Just a way for him to pinpoint our locations. And those that refuse will be treated as examples. Treated like dogs."
Charles opens his mouth, but then he pauses. I see the cogs working in his head, and I don't need telepathy to know I've struck a cord with him. He knows I'm right.
"What do you want, Erik?"
"To train your X-Men. To have them ready for the Sentinels. I want the mutant race to survive, Charles. Above all else you know that's my goal. And in return, I would ask asylum. You can hide me here," I plead with him.
"Fine, Erik," he says after moments of silence. "But if you try to brainwash my students or try to turn them to your ways, I will toss you out. You are here under my terms, not yours."
For the past few days all people have been talking about is Spider-man's return to the black suit, and how criminals are running scared. But people still aren't fans of me again. They call the black suit "proof" that he's a menace. Proof that he's really one of the bad guys. Sure it was kind the reaction I was going for, but...
"So what's with Spidey's black suit?" Gwen asks me at lunch. "I thought you had said he was done with it?"
"Yea...well...he's kinda ticked off that everyone is calling him a bad guy. So he figured he'd just go with it," I say with a shrug. "Personally I think it's a good idea."
"I think he's an idiot," she responds curtly. "He's a hero, and everyone with a right mind knows it. Trying to be a knock-off Batman isn't going to help matters. It's going to make people fear him even more. What a dumb idea."
Honestly...she can read me like a book, even the me she doesn't know is me, if that makes any sense. I mean I know she wouldn't be that blunt with be, but still. I know that the black suit really isn't "me" material, but it's effective for now. "So, we still on for dinner tonight?"
"Of course," she smiles.
*******
After dinner, I swing through the New York skyline, racing above two cop cars flying through the streets. I've got no clue on where they're headed. But I can see more flashing lights a few blocks down, signaling I'm near my target.
Perching myself across from the cops, I see a bank with it's door barricaded, and the officers shouting the generic announcements to who ever is inside. You know the generic "We have the place surrounded!" and "You can't get away!". You know sometimes I can't believe how predictable they can be. And I thought the bad guys were...bad.
Machine gun fire starts to spray into the cop cars, and I swing into the building's second floor windows, smashing through, and am immediately am jumped by two guys. I grab the one on my back and toss him through a desk and drive my foot into the other's diaphragm, incapacitating him.
I go over and pick the one from the desk up and inspect him, "Apocalypse? Bank robberies aren't their norm..."
My spider sense goes off, and I flip over the heads of two more thugs who emerge from an elevator. But these two are Dragon gang members. And then it hits me. Literally, as two Arsenic Candy members wail on me with baseball bats.
Red Dragons. Apocalypse. Arsenics. The gangs Gobby has taken over. This was a trap, and I fell right into it. I retreat away from the sluggers and realize that there are a ton of gang members pouring out of every door, stairwell, and office in this place. "So...good ol' Gobby wants me gone, eh? Well, let's see if you can finish the job."
A group of them rush me, and I spin a webline and swing into them, knocking them over like bowling pins, while shooting another onto a desk chair and tossing it into the assembled mob, sending them scattering. I land in the middle of them and spring into the group knocking a few down in the process.
But I'm vastly out numbered here. They start to get kicks, punches, and swings in past my defenses, and I start to hurt. A baseball bat cracks against the side of my face, and a bit of blood spurts through my mask.
Need to get out of here.
That's what races through my mind as three of them pull my arms to my side to allow the others better shots at my torso. I summon all the strength I have and shoot a webline from each hand onto desks on either side of me, and pull my arms together. The thugs drop me as the desks fly towards them, and I spring off my heals towards the broken window, barely escaping before the other goons grab me.
I swing through the night sky towards home, hoping there's no other surprises waiting for me tonight, and one thought crosses my mind.
I might need help to deal with Goblin...
*******
"WHAT DO YOU MEAN HE GOT AWAY!" the Green Goblin screams at his gathered lieutenants. "I gave you a simple job, 'Get rid of the Spider', and you can't even do it?"
"But boss you haven't been able-UGH!" the man is cut off as Goblin's sword runs through his sternum.
"I will not be second guessed. Do you understand?"
"Of course," the others say in unison.
"Good. Now...we'll just have to think up some more...personal ways of dealing with our little pest problem."
Tony and I remain silent as Luthor leaves the room. I wait until the door is closed before I turn to Stark.
"That was......pleasant."
I turn back to the table and look down at the piece of paper.
"For the first time in years....I don't know what to do. I hate what this act can do to us, do to the superhuman community....but on the other hand, I try to put myself into the shoes of the regular people out there. What do we look like to them? Just a bunch of fools playing cowboys and indians, is what I think they'd say. We want to make the world safe, but in the process do we actually inspire people to join our cause and create more damage?"
I rub my face.
"I don't know....I just don't know. Are we saviors, or are we just abominations?"
I look back at Tony.
"Listen, Tony, whatever you do, I'll follow you. As a soldier, you have to be able to lead and follow. Stamford proved that my time for leading may be over, so I'm ready to follow."
"Cap... if you give in to that self-doubt, then Luthor's already won. You were born to lead, and you do it better than anyone. You don't need to follow me."
But Steve doesn't answer. He's wanting me to make the decision.
"We don't do his press conference. We sign nothing. I'm not going to be part of Luthor's dog-and-pony show. He wants to make us apologise for trying to save people and failing? Why doesn't he apologise for all the innocent people his Sentinels murdered in Kahndaq?"
I grab the S.H.A. agreement paper in my hand and wave it in front of Steve.
"And this? I'd sooner wipe my ass with this than sign it! If this act becomes law, we'd be endangering the lives of our friends and teammates. This isn't about making the world safer. It's about the same thing it's always about with Luthor. Wanting to own the world. All his life, he's got everything he wanted. But superheroes are something he can't buy, something he can't control. This is his way of getting his hands on all of us, and making us his. If we sign this deal, if we get in bed with Luthor... we're opening the door and letting evil into our lives."
"Cap... if you give in to that self-doubt, then Luthor's already won. You were born to lead, and you do it better than anyone. You don't need to follow me."
But Steve doesn't answer. He's wanting me to make the decision.
"We don't do his press conference. We sign nothing. I'm not going to be part of Luthor's dog-and-pony show. He wants to make us apologise for trying to save people and failing? Why doesn't he apologise for all the innocent people his Sentinels murdered in Kahndaq?"
I grab the S.H.A. agreement paper in my hand and wave it in front of Steve.
"And this? I'd sooner wipe my ass with this than sign it! If this act becomes law, we'd be endangering the lives of our friends and teammates. This isn't about making the world safer. It's about the same thing it's always about with Luthor. Wanting to own the world. All his life, he's got everything he wanted. But superheroes are something he can't buy, something he can't control. This is his way of getting his hands on all of us, and making us his. If we sign this deal, if we get in bed with Luthor... we're opening the door and letting evil into our lives."
The two guards begin to inch closer to Tony and I.
"Son, Do you know who I am? I'm Captain America. I was punching out Nazis back when your F4 granddaddy was putting together bombshells in a factory. I've fought a war on two fronts, an alien despot, and a galactic devourer, and used every tactical weapon known to man. Now, son, do you want to tell me what to do?"
The guard lowers his eyes and whimpers.
"Thank you."
Tony and I march off down the hall.
"I don't like to pull that stunt often, but it works when I do."
The two guards begin to inch closer to Tony and I.
"Son, Do you know who I am? I'm Captain America. I was punching out Nazis back when your F4 granddaddy was putting together bombshells in a factory. I've fought a war on two fronts, an alien despot, and a galactic devourer, and used every tactical weapon known to man. Now, son, do you want to tell me what to do?"
The guard lowers his eyes and whimpers.
"Thank you."
Tony and I march off down the hall.
"I don't like to pull that stunt often, but it works when I do."
I squeeze Cho's arm up towards his neck again. "Don't. Lie."
"I'm not!!!" he chokes out. I ease up just enough so he can breathe again. "It was an accident."
"I warned you..."
"No, no. Really. I mean, the hacking wasn't an accident. I do that all the time. But the satellite? Someone else moved that over Stamford. Someone else knew that fight was going to happen."
"How do you know that."
"Oh, come on. Who's gonna park a twenty billion dollar satellite over no-wheresville Connecticut?"
I consider his words, and then let him go, pushing him down into his chair. "Do you know who placed it there?"
"Not a clue. I figured anyone that interested in what the satellite was looking at would be actively monitoring it. Last thing I needed was to bring that type of heat down on me. I made sure I was only set to receive, not transmit."
"Oh, come on. Who's gonna park a twenty billion dollar satellite over no-wheresville Connecticut?"
I consider his words, and then let him go, pushing him down into his chair. "Do you know who placed it there?"
"Not a clue. I figured anyone that interested in what the satellite was looking at would be actively monitoring it. Last thing I needed was to bring that type of heat down on me. I made sure I was only set to receive, not transmit."
"Okay, okay. Impatient much? Back last week I was combing through the SHIELD database and seen some seriously black bag stuff. I'm talking about who shot JFK from the grassy knoll black stuff."
"What exactly was it?"
"A list of scientists and military supplies SHIELD hired to make parts. It was wierd because the went through so many different back channels and fronts to get their parts. I saw the whole paper trail on my Powerbook. All these parts were going to one project."
I hold my breath, already knowing what's about to come out of Cho's mouth.
This site uses cookies to help personalise content, tailor your experience and to keep you logged in if you register.
By continuing to use this site, you are consenting to our use of cookies.
