Tales of the Parodyverse

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Messenger proudly presents the first chapter in of a new, limited Elseworlds series.
Tue May 31, 2005 at 03:11:59 pm EDT
Subject
'Scorched Earth' Part One: "Facing the Facts..."
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Several Years Ago:

They had all left him. They promised they would always be there for him, but they lied. One by one, Jarvis watched his friends and loved ones fall under the alien assault. These galactic invaders had flown in for one reason; To retrieve Yo and put him on trial for some perceived crime against their race. However, the Lair Legion stood by the thought-being and valiantly refused to give him up, no matter what the cost. If they had known that cost in advance... maybe they would have reconsidered. The alien race known only as the Swarm had decided to make an example and if they couldn't send Yo to Hell, they would bring Hell to Yo. In the span of four days, their black ships had covered the Earth, blotting out all sunlight. They destroyed everything in their path. Cities were decimated. Entire Islands sunk back into the ocean waves... its inhabitants gone forever. They didn't make a distinction between the super-powered ones and the innocents... the men who commuted on trains to their job and the wildlife that grazed on grass in the African wilderness... to the Swarm all life had to be extinguished. It was the only appropriate retaliation for the Lair Legion's arrogant defiance.

There was a desperate attempt to mobilize the air force, but the alien weaponry was so superior that the entire military was reduced to a fifth of its capacity by day two.... and smoking F-16s plummeted out of the dark skies like ducks that had been casually shot by a game-hunter. There had been no word from the President in forty-eight hours. There were rumors that had been killed or abducted. There were so many rumors. Australia and Japan... gone. The whole of Europe in flames. The great United States of America just a shell of what it used to be. Who could separate the lies from the reality, when there was no television... no radio... no newspapers?

A laser beam shot over the butler's blonde locks and a house behind him collapsed into a pile of rubble. He was still alive. Somehow he had survived. He had seen so many... so many... of his friends perish... Sersi, Space Ghost, Banjooooo, Cheryl, Falcon... the list went on and on. Just an hour ago, he had watched Amazing Guy literally evaporate into thin air. Every molecule in his body seemed to explode at once. This was bad, but nothing compared to having his lover bleed to death in his arms. "I will avenge you, Lisa..." he whispered under his breath as he watched buildings topple on the horizon. He gripped his fist and cosmic energy spiraled around it. "You have my word."

She had died in the Butler's arms. Her last words were ones of love.... Just because they refused to give up one life, countless others who had no part in this had to pay the price... It wasn't fair. How could they have ever been so stupid? So idealistic?

Beneath the deafening explosions, Jarvis could hear a soft whimper. He whirled around. There was a shivering creature huddled next to the brick wall. It was the terrified natural form of Yo.

"Y-Yo is sorry... Y-Yo is sorry...." the pathetic creature kept on repeating over and over as its glassy eyes watched the flying saucers high above them shoot more deadly laser beams. More buildings toppled. Hundreds more died because of this little alien.

"Muh.... My friends... My best friends are dead... BECAUSE OF YOU!! You....-- And.... And all you can say is 'sorry'....?! 'SORRY'?!?" Jarvis gritted his teeth and his eyes lit up like two white suns. "Well, I'm sorry too, Yo..."

In the distance another building collapses. Another thousand people die.

Jarvis's face became distorted with anger. His hand burned with the power-cosmic spiralling around it. He pointed his fist at Yo and waves of concentrated lethal energy poured out in the direction of the thought-being. "DIE... DIE.... DIE!!!" Jarvis screamed in a primal fit of rage.

The being known as Yo cried out as it was reduced to a pile of cosmic ash. A warm breeze (probably originating from a burning building) drifted by Jarvis's feet and whisked the ghostly ash into the air, carrying it to parts unknown. The butler collapsed on the pock-marked sidewalk, among the charred skeletons and burning cars. He clutched his face as tears streamed down it. There was no quiet moment of introspection or clarity. The booming sounds of lasers and explosions gave him no peace. ‘Who are the real monsters here....?’ he wondered.

He didn't have to wonder for long.....

Today:

The birds have longed stopped singing..........

Jarvis can remember a time when they still would sing. He remembers when they would still brighten this world each morning with their delightful rhythmic chirping. But that time is now over, and he helped bring about that end......

He had no choice in the matter. He places his hand on the cool glass pane and looks down. As he watches the citizens of New America scurrying across the still-damaged sidewalks to their jobs and breadlines, he struggles with the depression that's plagued him since the Extermination. No one shall ever doubt his greatness or give him another accusing stare..... These good citizens may never know it..... but he is their greatest hero..... and if the price of saving the world means that a few birds won't sing anymore, then that's fine. With war there are casualties... That is a lesson that would be well-learnt by the ungrateful inhabitants of Parodiopolis. An incident catches his eyes on the street below. A tank screeches to a halt. 'Safe America' troops jump out the hatch and shoot at a man who tries to run away. He falls to the ground... a pool of blood spreading beneath him. The guards continue to fire.

There is a knock at the door.

"Leave me alone... I'm- I'm pondering..." Jarvis sighs as he walks across his marble floor and sits at a piano. He starts to play Moonlight Sonata, but stops suddenly. There is a note he can't remember. A note that always eludes...

The knocking continues.

"For God fucking sakes... What is it?" he bashes the ivory keys in with a powered fist. His anger is accompanied with a cacophony of sound.

A weedy man wearing thick glasses and a suit two sizes too big nudges the door open. "I'm sorry, sir... norm- normally we wouldn't interrupt you like this... but... but we have a big catch."

"Who?"

"The Mangatown Commander.... Visionary...?"

A smile creeps across Jarvis' lips. "I will be there shortly..."

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On the outskirts of Scorched Earth, a man wearing torn rags walks towards a shelled out three-story apartment complex. On the stoops, he pats a small, dirt-caked boy on the head and lets a German Sheppard sniff his hand. He glances at the man on the roof, who holds an AK-47.

"Freedom..." he tells him.

The man on the roof nods and pushes a button which unlocks the front door with a buzzing. In the lobby, grizzled men covered in grime play chess or catch a quick nap in the corner, still clutching their weapons. Crates of guns and ammunition line the walls. The windows are all boarded up with wooden planks to discourage spying. Still, the man realizes, it's only a matter of time before their latest safe haven is discovered.

"Jay..." the man whispers.

"What is it, Messenger...?" a man in a ski-mask grunts. During the Alien crisis, Hatman was caught in an explosion where the flesh on his face literally melted away. The scars weren't just physical though. They ran deep into his emotional side.... Since it happened he had worn a balaclava to hide up the gruesome burnt flesh that now made up his face. Only his eyes were visible. And they were dark eyes too, full of pain and spite.

"Visionary. They got him," Messenger pulls his hood back. "The bastards got him..."

"Get the other troops ready. We're setting out on Operation Domino tomorrow. Briefing will be held at 2100 hours..." Hatman walks away, a M-16 bobbing against his back as he leaves.

The postman eases back in a lounge chair. He had suffered nerve damage during the chemical purge a year ago, and now his hand periodically shakes when it shouldn't. Carrie, a cute girl whose parents were sent to a re-education camp, poured him a glass of water and now he couldn't hold it still. He drops the glass and it shatters. "It's o-okay...I'll clean it up," she tells him kneeling down. He grabs her arm. "No. Don't," he tells her.

He turns on the small portable television. There on the flickering, snowy screen a man stands against the backdrop of an American flag with five stars, representing the five major territories that weren't completely destroyed during the Alien invasion. They are known as Central United, Western United, Western United-South, Eastern United and Eastern United-South. The man is the President. It is President Frederic Wertham.

"Good morning, my fellow Americans... I am proud to report that at nine this morning, we captured the notorious terrorist known as Visionary, who had been acting as a factional high-level commander in the city of Pariodiopolis. His activities included killing Government officials, civilians, causing damage to Government property and disrupting civil order. He is currently being interrogated by the good men and women that he has sought so long and hard to kill..."


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Visionary comes to, under the sterile LED light of an overhead lamp. It burns his eyes. A doctor overlooks him, a threatening metal instrument in his hand.

"Open wide..." he rasps.

Visionary struggles against the leather restraints which keep him trapped to the cold metal slab he lies on. "Mmmn..." he mumbles in a muffled voice.

"Let him go..." a shadowy figure orders from the doorway. Jarvis steps into the searing, white light, revealing himself.

"But sir..." the hunched-over man in the white smock holds a spinning electric drill. "Dee fun was just about to begin."

"No fun. This is business. Vizh... why'd ya do it?"

"Why did I do what...?" he asks, blood dribbling down his chin.

"Leave me...?"

"I didn't leave you, Jarvis. You left yourself and everything you used to stand for. You used to be real... Now look at you."

Jarvis breaks out laughing. "Hahahaha... Oh, do stop, old friend. You wound me! You positively wound me. The fake man accuses me of not being real?! Ah... the ironic times we live in," his smile fades and becomes a scowl. "But you did leave me, old friend..." a tear rolls down his cheek. "You betrayed me. Why did you do it?! I thought you'd understand... Thought you would sympathize. Thought you would realize why I had to make this sacrifice. I didn't just do it for me. I did it for you and everyone else who eventually turned on me. We're both losers. You know that right? I lost Lisa and you lost Cheryl. So, naturally I thought we would feed off each other’s strength. I thought we could support each other through these trying times. Instead.... instead you abandoned me.... and sided with the enemy...." he pauses. "Et Tu, Brutus?" Jarvis asks in a quivering voice. He coughs up some phlegm and spits it in Visionary's face.

As he heads to leave he looks at the doctor, and his open briefcase with a collection of saws and drills of varying lengths.

"I think it's time to answer that age-old question. Detach the arms. Detach the legs. Take off the head," he glances back at Visionary one last time and then fades into the shadows. "Then send me an e-mail with a scientific conclusion on whether he was real or not..."


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After the crisis of 1999, when America fell victim to a dictatorship and the leader of the Lair Legion fell victim to "insanity", a faction of civilians, former Legionnaires, former "villains" and outcasts deflected to the other side of the river, which used to be known as Gothametropolis York. It's now known as 'Disputed Territory' by the Wertham administration and "Scorched Earth" by the men and women who live and die there. It had been virtually laid to waste during the Invasion.... The people who came here, had taken issue with the despot who was the new President.... he wanted to help his people, by oppressing them so completely and keeping them under such a close eye that he would be sure no one would ever be hurt again. And no one would ever have enough power to question his ultimate rule. No matter what. He stripped them of their freedom. He made them rely on him, be completely dependant of him. And that is why these people retreated to this dreary place. That is why they are freedom fighters....

It's been a string of never-ending horrors. Enough people are killed every day by Safe America troops, Special Forces and Government sanctioned super-beings. But there are people dying of malnutrition and disease because they can't get the proper help or resources. In her sleep, Carrie coughs and calls out to her mother. The postman walks over and covers her in his blanket. "Close your eyes, honey... Maybe when you open them this will all be a dream,"

Several Years Ago:


"What, are you fucking insane?!" Messenger screams in a hoarse voice. "Jarvis... Jarvis, you can't be listening to this bullshit!"

"We summoned you to the Pentagon war-room, vigilante..." a one-eyed man known as General King tells him in a cool, gravelly voice. "Because we need all the help we can get... even if it's from you paranormals... But if you have a problem with our plan of action you're welcome to leave and return to the Hell out there..."

"Your idea of solving the alien problem is to scorch the Earth?!?" he cries. "That will just kill us!! This is madness!!"

"The nano-technology will take away the extraterrestrial's resources. They will leave us alone if they don't see abundant crops. We have enough food stockpiled to last years. By the time that runs out, we would have re-developed the vegetation. We are left with no option!"

"IDIOTS!!" Messenger screeches as men in black suits hold him to the ground. In front of him is a giant computer-generated map of America and red spots indicates cities that have been destroyed. "They're not here to invade. They wanted to make an example of us. They just want to kill us. You're helping them!"

General King shakes his head. "Superheroes... pffeh. Push the button, Jarvis... and I guarantee you'll have a place in the new America."

"Jarvis... if you press that button..." Messenger mumbles as his face is pressed against the concrete. "You will have doomed us all. Do you fucking hear me....?!"


Today:

"Messenger... do you hear me?" Hatman kicks his feet. In front of him, the snowy television is still on, but programming is off for the day. "Meeting's starting."

"uh... yeah. Sorry. Patrol this morning took more outta me than I thought," he rubs the sleep from his eyes and grabs his gun. It shakes in his hand. Hatman eyes his twitch suspiciously and then walks off.

......

"You're no doubt wondering why I've gathered all of you here...." Hatman says above the whispers of the crowd. Messenger surveys the occupants of the huge boiler room. Most of the men who had become Freedom Fighters were strangers. However a lot of former LLers had joined up with the revolution as well. There was Dark-Hwk in one corner. Brown dirty rags were wrapped around his costume. His metallic beak hung out of a makeshift hood. To his side was Sir Mumphrey Wilton who almost died when he lost an arm a few months ago, but had refused to use that as an excuse to keep him from his duties. However, his optimistic personality had given way to a cynical, hopeless world view, and he seemed to be merely a shell of the proud, great man he was. To Messenger's other side there was spiffy, a warped half animal, half human teenager with shining green eyes and fangs. He had been kidnapped by the mysterious alien race during the crisis and was subject to some very traumatic tests before his half dead body was recovered in a river. Unlike Wilton, his optimistic demeanor seems to of persevered but a part of him definitely changed with the experiments. And then there was Dark Knight, who had joined with the Freedom Fighters to achieve his own goals, but never attended any of the meetings. His very home had been destroyed in the crisis and this had made his already broken psyche.... shatter into dust. What seemed to be delusions caused by his worst paranoid fits before the crisis, had now manifested into undeniable, grim reality. Currently he stood outside the building and kept patrol with a gun.

"We're going to blow up the bridge that leads into Paradiopolis... Every day, convoys come through with heavily armed Safe America troops and supplies. And they leave with our freedom fighters... sending them en route to concentration camps or the grave. If we plant a charge there at dawn tomorrow and succeed in taking it out of the equation... well, it won't solve all our problems... they can still fly in carriers. But the rate in which they transport people and supplies and their holding capacity will be lessened dramatically. It can buy us some much-needed time to find new shelter. This could be the difference between life..." Hatman glances out a stained window at the red evening sky outside. "... and extermination."


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A man sits behind a desk smoking a cigar. He opens a MRE composed of liquid nutrients, soy and vitamin pellets, and is about to shove a spoonful in his mouth when a door opens. An imposing figure with broad shoulders and a Hollywood smile enters.


"Cap..." General King smiles back as he looks at the warrior clad in red, white and blue painted chain-mail.

"I'm here to serve my country, sir..." he gives a fast salute to King, his chest puffed out like a peacock.

"I know you are, son," he grabs Cap's shoulder. "Listen... our inside source just called. The insurgents are going to try and launch an offensive on the Gothametropolis bridge tomorrow. We're sending you out with Jarvis, Goldeneyed, Cyber-Venom and your own platoon of Special Forces. You are to kill these terrorist scumbags or die trying. Got me, soldier?"

"Yes sir!"


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0500 Hours...

Hatman had needed eight volunteers for a routine mission, and since it seemed like "easy time" with little chance of casualties, there were more than enough volunteers. He had decided to lead them into battle himself.

"This is it, people...." the former capped crusader yells out to the passengers on the ship. "In a few minutes we'll reach the shore of Parodiopolis... It should be a basic mission. We'll be in and out. Three of you will stay here, and the rest will proceed to the bridge. If our luck holds out, we shouldn't run across any heavy resistance. Each of you should do a quick equipment check regardless, though." he walks up and down the platform of the bobbing Carrier, eyeing each of his men. "Remember, stealth is the key to this mission. If we play this by the books we should all come out unscathed--...." he's interrupted as the pilot calls out a signal.

"We've started descent...."

"Excellent." Messenger snaps the safety off a high-powered rail-gun strapped to his chest. He places his handgun behind him, in a holster strapped to his back. NTU-150 checks his power cells to make sure they're completely recharged. spiffy extracts three inch black claws and hisses. Hatman runs a couple fingers down the side of his ski-mask. He pauses and then snaps back his own rail-gun. Darryl Albury, the civilian who joined with the resistance after he was black-listed for speaking against the Government and evicted from his home, places two magnums in a pair of shoulder holsters. Just a few years ago the closest he had ever been to a gun was in a museum. Cobra straps a set of syringes to the top of her fist Paste Pot Pete has replaced the paste in his old gun with hydrochloric acid. Anvil Man sighs, "What, I don't get a gun?"

"Your hands are your weapons, doofus..." spiffy crawls to the front of the ship and looks out the window.

"Don't feel left out, Anvy..." Sorceress places a soothing hand on his rocky exterior. "I just have my magic..."

"I wish you could use your magic on me... I wish you could help me..." he whispers.

"Huh?" she asks in a puzzled voice.

"Nothing,"

The Carrier slows down, dips a bit, and then skids on to the dry brown soil of Parodiopolis. The Carrier comes to a halt after ten seconds or so and the occupants inside get their bearings straight.

"We have touched down....Stage one complete."


The Ship's doors swoosh open exposing them to the dull natural light from the smoky gray sky.

Messenger was the first to step outside. He nervously glances back and forth and every direction conceivable. They were just next to the shore. Small waves lap against the side of the carrier. On his right there were burnt out blackened shells of buildings which were destroyed during the crisis. This was an area with a lot of hiding places, where there was a great possibility of a sniper's nest. Hatman lights a cigarette and calmly searches the premises with his eyes. He calls out to the pilot back into the ship. "Radar picking up anything, Conner?!"

"No sir.... I believe the area's clean."

"Alright then. We're clear, Freedom Fighters.... Let's move out...."

A band of colorful soldiers spill out of the Carrier, all armed to the teeth.

Hatman flicks his cigarette to the ground. He walks over to Sorceress and strokes her cheek.

"Darling...." he tells her as he holds her face. "You, Pete and Enty are to protect the ship while we're gone. If you guys run into any serious trouble, alert us on the comm and we'll be back here as soon as we can. I love you....."

"Jay..." she tries to lift his ski-mask so she can give him a kiss, but he pulls away.

"Don't,"

.............

Hatman looks at his men. "Mark, Messenger, Anvil, Darryl, Cobra... You guys are coming with me. Let's go! Let's go!"

The heroes go in slowly, stopping behind the corner of every building and making sure the coast is clear. Hatman signals for them to move. They run down another street, one after the other... all of them watching each other's backs.

"I see movement ahead..." spiffy hisses, his eyes glowing.

"Shit... SHIT!" Hatman sputters. "You sure you're not--..." Hatman scans the horizon, "No. I see them too. Damn. They're getting closer... We can't afford to be spotted this early..."

Hatman glances down at a manhole cover. "Sewer line will probably take us closer to our destination. Or at least get us out of the line of fire."

"Oh shit... You gotta be kidding me..." Messenger looks away, biting his lip.

"Well, you got the 'shit' part, right," Cobra chuckles.

"Let's just do this, guys!" Anvil Man rips the manhole off and it skitters down the street.

"Hold your noses..." Hatman says as he slips down the hole. "It gets funky from here on in."

"Messy... We're not seriously going down there, are we?"

The postman doesn't reply. He just curses under his breath and slides down the slick ladder.

spiffy sighs. "Guess that answers my question." and jumps in after him.

Darryl Albury shrugs and follows, "Almost wanna take my chances with that re-education camp,"

They pat down on to the thick brown sludge flowing through the giant lead tube. Messenger looks up and down the dark sewer. He slides a pair of infra-red goggles over his eyes. Hatman and Albury switch on miniature flash-lights which illuminate the tunnel. spiffy needs no such assistance. His cat-like eyes supplies him with all the light he needs.

Hatman shoots a solemn look to his team-mates. "Stay together! I have a compass and a good sense of direction. We'll walk a few hundred yards and then get out of here."

They start trudging down the tube, holding their noses and telling bad jokes. Suddenly, spiffy turns as pale as a ghost.

"Oh.... no...." spiffy gasps, "They're here... I can smell them...."


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Outside.......


Paste Pot Pete is quietly talking to NTU-150 and Sorceress is waiting in fearful anticipation.


"Don't worry, girl," PPP tells her placing his hand on her shoulder. "Things will turn out alright. You'll see."

Whitney sighs and rolls her shoulder away from his hand. "Peter.... Don't tell me whether I should or shouldn't worry for my lover's well-being. Basic fact is any mission can go wrong..... He's too sure of himself. Ever since he survived the alien invasion, he's tricked himself into thinking he's invincible. He's certain he can find a way to survive any situation, and that will be his greatest down-fall one day,"

Sorceress pauses and freezes when she hears a clanging sound from one of the burnt-out buildings across the street. She slowly puts a finger to her lips to signal silence. Still, without moving she utters a few soft words to the Pilot. "Conner..... Radar. Now."

Inside the cockpit, without replying the pilot switches on the Radar.

"We're alright, Ms Darkness. I'm still not picking up a thing."

Whitney lets out a sigh of relief. "I'm waaaaay too paranoid nowadays. Too much time around Greg...."

Paste Pot Pete smiles. "See, I told you, nothing to worry abo--"

A bullet plows through his head killing him instantly.

Peter's twitching body falls against the ship. He is already dead. A trickle of blood pours from his fore-head where the bullet entered.

More gun-shots soon follow..... Sparks emit from places on the Carrier where the bullets are ricocheting.

"Find cover..... FIND COVER!!" Sorceress screams as she dodges into the safety of the ship.

NTU points his hand in the direction of the gun-shots and releases three guided missles. They fly out in streams of white smoke and explode as they impact on the side of one of the buildings.

The building side collapses. However no bodies are revealed.

"COME OUT YOU MURDERING BASTARDS!! COME OUT AND FACE ME!!!"

"Dammit, Enty...." Sorceress screams out hysterically. "Get in the fucking ship before it's too late! Dammit... Do you want to end up like Pete?! GET IN THE SHIP!!!" Her voice breaks as she completes the sentence. Tears start to stream down her cheeks.

NTU sighs. "Al-... Alright." He shoots out a few wild rounds on a mounted machine gun and backs into the ship's hull still watching the blackened building where the gun shots came from.

Whitney frantically tries to activate her communicator link. She starts batting it like a toy.

"We.... We were set up... Jarvis must of known we were coming..... But How....? Oh, Jay.... Please be all right. Please."


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A soft beeping rings out from Hatman's pocket.

".... My comm link...." he whispers to the rest. "Hold up,"

He flicks out the communicator and presses a button.

There is only a ghostly, static image of Sorceress that keeps fading in and out.

"Honey...?"

"Jay... Kzzz..." static jumbles most of her words. "... zzz.... Pete.... kzzz..... and.... kzzz...."

"Whitney... I can't hear you!" he slaps the side of his comm link.

"Kzzz..... trap..... zzzz...."

With that the connection is lost.

"Huh...?" Hatman tries to call her back, but to no avail.

"I'm telling yooouu...." spiffy scampers around nervously, his nostrils flaring. He reminds Darryl Albury of the horses he used to have on his farm that would get spooked before a thunderstorm. "yoooou guysss.... Safe America... everywhere .... all around us... smell them..."

"You sure you're not sniffing a different kind of crap down here?" Cobra asks half-joking.

"No!" Hatman looks down the dark sewer tunnel. "He's right. Why would Whitney call... unless..."

"Un-Un..." Messenger grips his gun as tight as he can, as an uncontrollable twitch starts to take over him again, causing his speech to come out slurred and disjointed. "Un-Un-Unless wh- what?"


"Unless you are all about to die..." a man covered in a black symbiote and metallic enhancements steps out of the cover of darkness. Flanking his sides are four men in black military garb, all wearing infra-red goggles and clutching pulse rifles.

"CYBER-VENOM!!" Hatman cries in shock. "What the Hell are you doing here? I thought you were neutral in this conflict..."

"No. I went to a retreat..."

"You mean a re-education camp."

"... and they showed me the light. And now, I will make my President proud... by bringing back your heads on a stick. Delta Force... Kill them!"

"Freedom Fighters, attack!!"

Darryl Albury dives into the sewage shooting his magnums. One bullet flies through a Safe America troop's head, splitting it like an overripe melon. spiffy leaps on to the shoulders of another and slits his throat with his extended claws.

Bullets ricochet off Anvil Man as he raises a fist and crushes another soldier.

Machinegun fire lights up the entire tunnel.

Cobra shoots her syringes into Cyber-Venom, but the needles are sucked up by his symbiotic armor and spat back at her at an even higher velocity.

"YAH!!" she shrieks. Needles protrude from her side.

"Oh shit! Oh shit! Man down..." Messenger rushes to her side and cradles her head.

"I'm... a ... woman.... nngh..." she clutches his brown shawl."Messenger... sexist as usual... always getting the women around him... killed..."

"Jesus Christ. Hold on..." he instructs her as he wipes the sweat from her brow and bullets fly overhead.

"I'll be... fine... that bridge is all that's important... the bridge..." she fades into unconsciousness.

"I'm not going to leave you, Cobra. Fuck... I only have so many friends. I won't lose another... Sleep now... We will get you out of this..." he gently places her head down and rises to his feet. "You wanna take my friends from me?!" Messenger screams at Venom. "Huh?! You wanna kill my friends?? I'LL KILL YOU!!" he pulls out a laser grenade and presses a button on the side.

There's a loud screech as the weapon comes alive with power. He leaps on to Cyber-Venom dragging him to the ground.

"Open wide!" he shoves the grenade into Venom's slack-jawed, fang filled mouth.


"Mmph..." his entire head flashes with red light as he staggers back.

"EVERYONE DOWN!" Messenger leaps at the Freedom Fighters pushing them back.

"No... Messenger... the gasses down here..." Hatman grits through his teeth.

*BOOOM*

An immense fireball sweeps through the pipe, lighting up the remaining Safe America soldier and sending bits of Cyber-Venom everywhere. It roars past the Freedom Fighters, narrowly missing them as they lay immersed in raw sewage.

After it's over, they rise back to their feet.

"That was stupid..." Hatman tells him.

"But necessary... I killed Cyber-Venom."

"Yeah, but at what cost?" Hatman looks down at the still body of Cobra. He glides his fingers over her eyelids, shutting them forever.

"Oh no... Jay... this wasn't my--... I didn't mean..." his eyes well up. "Cobra..."

"I know. I'm not blaming you," Hatman looks down the sewers in every direction. "Our mission is compromised though. We should split up. Scan the nearby passages for fifteen minutes. Make sure our routes are secure. Then reconvene at this coordinate and we'll get out of here."

........................


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On the surface...


"Oh god..." Sorceress has enveloped the ship in a force-field, but it's gradually being weakened by barrage after barrage of shells and gunfire.

"Let me out there... Whitney.... Let me out there... I can kill them... I can kill them all..."

Paste Pot Pete's head lulls to the side, a puddle of blood collecting under NTU's metallic boot.

"NO! I won't lose you too!!" she screams. "I won't..."

"Oh god... Radar has fifty guys surrounding the ship..." Conner whispers in a hollow voice. "How long can this field hold for...?"


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Below...

Hatman keeps to the wall, gripping his gun closely.

He is alone.... but not for long.

"Terrorist... Surrender..." a man in gleaming chain mail drops down from a manhole that's twenty yards away and splashes into the darkness. He throws a large disc in Hatman's direction. It whistles through the air and hits him in the face.

"Ughn..." spots dance in front of Jay's eyes as he collapses to the ground. He spits out blood and stands.

"Cap... Well, well... it's been a while. Last time I saw you, we were fighting on the same side... against a common threat... the aliens. How the times change, huh?"

"Yes. Now you're the alien. I'm in no mood for small-talk, Jay Boaz. I suggest you do what I ordered and drop your weapon if you want to live."

"Never..." he aims the gun at Cap, ready to shoot, but just then a flash of light appears behind him and he feels a hard hit to his head. It's the last thing he feels as he collapses into the river of waste.

"Good work, Goldeneyed..." Cap congratulates the dark-suited man with the yellow glowing eyes. "This is a big catch. It makes Visionary look like a foot-soldier. We'll bring him back to the camp and start working on him immediately..."


-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


"It's been twenty minutes. Still no sign of Jay... I don't like this... I'm going to go out again... check out the western wing. Cobra is enough, but if we lose Jay... well, we're fucked."

The postman holds his gun tight. Every nerve in his body burns. It takes every ounce of control to keep himself from spasming. Every night he dreams about that awful day when they gassed Rebel City and the behemoth known as Liquidator beat him within an inch of his life, even while he was vomiting blood from the chemicals. A third of the rebels died that day, and more were left damaged permanently like Messenger... both physically and psychologically.

Jay had saved his life that day. He was the one who shot up Liquidator just as he was about to impart the finishing blow. Now, it was his turn to save Jay.

"Jay... can you hear me...?" he turns on his comm link and tried to connect with somebody. Anyone.


"Jay is dead," a familiar voice tells him calmly. It's Jarvis and he's holding a gun. "Or he will be soon enough. Drop it. Drop the weapon and your communication device, or I kill you."

Messenger places the gun and comm link on the floor and raises his arms.

"God..." Messenger winces. "How.... How did you know we were coming....?"

"Easy enough when I have sources inside your camp...." Jarvis drops his guard momentarily to kneel to the floor and take away Messenger's machine gun. Messenger uses this momentary distraction to pounce on Jarvis and bring him down to the cold sludge.

"Ugn..... Good...." the Butler groans as his body splashes against the brown slush. "Yes, this is much more appropriate. Let me kill you in action. I would hate for your demise to be a whimper...... and not a ..... bang...."

Messenger punches Jarvis repeatedly as he has him pinned to the ground. "You'll never win!!" he shouts. "Do you understand me?! NEVER!!"

Jarvis knees Messenger in the groin and then rolls over to pin Messenger, giving him the advantage. "But don't you get it?! I already have won.... I saved the WORLD!!"

Messenger coughs up a spurt of blood. "And the world that you're saving will always belong to you, right?"


------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Force-field's down!" Sorceress screams as a shell makes a direct hit on the Carrier. "I couldn't hold it any longer... Enty, you wanted to get out there and kill them? Now's your chance,"

NTU-150 glides out of the ship, alleviated by his propulsion jets, and quickly scans the immediate area.

"There. Safe America closing in, trying to net us. This will free up a path for the others..." he shoots a laser-guided missile which kicks up pavement and body-parts into the air. He then whirls around and lets loose with a stream of fire, which lights up a squad that was trying to flank his right. They scream and run away, their clothes burning off of them.

Sorceress uses black magic to manipulate the minds of some of the men advancing and makes them shoot on their own men.

"Fielding! What are you doing?" a General screams as he's shot by his own soldier.

"We're holding them back for now..." Whitney says. "But soon the re-enforcements will move in. Fuck, Jay... where are you?"


------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

spiffy is bewildered as he looks at his comm link. It's slanted at a weird angle and seems to be a distorted image of Jarvis and Messenger fighting to the death.

"Shit... Jarvis is there," he tells the others. "We gotta help him... C'mon... He's no match for someone with the power cosmic at his disposal."

spiffy leaps down the sewer with Anvil-Man and Darryl in tow.


------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Messenger and Jarvis circle each other.

"You- You think this is what Lisa would want?" Messenger starts to twitch again.

"You're not fit to mention Lisa, traitor," Jarvis snarls.

"Do- Do you- you remem- remember why we became Lair Legionaires, Jarvis? Do you remember what-... wha- what we used to fight for...? We used to fight for justice and righteousness. We fought for those that couldn't fight back. We fought for what was right... not what our Government said was right. Because we knew the difference..."

"You know nothing, you stuttering invalid..." Jarvis' hand spirals with cosmic power.

"Nuh- not true. I- I know you're a real pri--..."

Jarvis shoots a stream of concentrated energy at Messenger's chest sending him to the ground with a splash. He stands over the postman and pulls a handgun out from behind him. "I promised you would go out with a bang, didn't I?" he cocks the gun and lightly squeezes on the trigger when a bullet flies through his hand.

"YAARGH!!" he fires next to Messenger's head, narrowly missing him, as blood spurts out of his palm. He drops the gun and glances to his left. There stands spiffy, Anvil-Man and Darryl Albury, who is holding a smoking gun.

"Goldeneyed..." Jarvis mutters as he holds his hand. "GOLDENEYED!" he screams.

The black-suited man appears in a white flash...

"Bry..." spiffy whispers. Before he can say anything else, Goldeneyed has taken Jarvis with him and teleported away.

"Jesus... I thought he was dead..." spiffy gasped. "What have they done to him?"

"Goldeneyed can wait for another time," Darryl tells him. "We gotta get Messenger out of here and retreat. We walked straight into a bloodbath."

spiffy helps Messenger up. The postman coughs. "He- He said... Jarvis said Jay is dead..."

"No... I don't believe it..." spiffy replied. "Jay is strong. He's survived worse than this. They may have gotten him, but he's alive. I'm sure of it."

As they run down the sewer passage they see a ray of light shining down on them.

"There.... The manhole cover that we came through!" spiffy leaps to the ladder and clings to it. He climbs out of the sewer. Messenger, Albury and Anvil-Man follow. As they emerge from those dark depths, a horrific sight greets them.

Around forty soldiers have surrounded the Carrier, all armed to the teeth with top of the line weaponry. NTU is desperately trying to stave them off by shooting tear gas pellets and machine gun rounds, but it looks like they're fighting a losing battle.

Messenger swings his rail-gun around and aims it at a cluster of them. "Better back off you scum-sucking bastards!" he shoots a deadly projectile and it whips through the air and crashes with deadly force into four or five guards. The guards turn to their attackers and return fire. spiffy leaps towards the carrier dodging scattering bullets.

Anvil-Man tosses soldiers to the side as if they were rag dolls. He punches one guard's head off and swings another thirty feet into the sky.

As Darryl Albury runs he whips out a hand-held automatic laser gun and shoots off a dozen or so pulse lasers in their direction, keeping them at bay. A sniper bullet hits him in the chest, however and he collapses to the ground. He moans and whimpers as he lays there, trying to stand. It is futile.

"I... can't .... feel my.... legs...." he stammers in a low, scared voice.

Messenger pauses as bullets fly by him. He looks at Albury.

"I gotta help him..."

No sooner than that however, rapid fire hits the lying body of Albury, sealing his bloody fate. His body contorts and convulses as bullet after bullet slams into it.

"MESSY... THEY WILL KILL YOU!! C'MON!!" spiffy screams.

Messenger snaps out of it and runs towards the carrier. After what seems to be an eternity, but was more like half a minute, Messenger and Anvil-Man reach the carrier. NTU lobs off a few grenades and the doors shut behind them.

"Whitney..." Messenger grabs her shoulders as he boards the ship. "Jay... I'm sorry... J- Jay..."

"No..." tears stream down her cheeks, "Don't say it. Don't you dare say it, you bastard!" she feels abnormally hot to the touch. It's as if molten lava is flowing through her veins.

Bullets continue to ricochet off the side of the ship.

"CONNER! CONNER, GET US THE HELL OUT OF HERE!!" spiffy screams. "I smell them everywhere.... There are more... they're not stopping..."

Bullets and explosions continue to rock the ship's exterior as the guards desperately attempt to make their way in to the ship.

Conner pulls back on a lever and the engines roar. He releases a flame thrust which makes the guards back off. The ship gains momentum and speed and then glides into the air leaving behind all the death and terror of this horribly failed mission.

As they drift towards the 'Disputed Territory', which used to be known as Gothametropolis York, not a word is spoken. NTU, Anvil-Man, Messenger and spiffy all sit huddled in a corner with their heads in their laps and their own morbid, melancholy thoughts as company. Sorceress weeps and screams the entire trip.

Darryl Albury is dead...... Paste Pot Pete is dead..... Cobra is dead.... Hatman is dead.

With Hatman, their leader gone, how can they possibly survive?

This was supposed to be a simple routine mission. No casualties were expected. And yet they lost their leader on this routine mission. It was a set-up. That means there is a mole in the Freedom Fighters...... one who is alerting Jarvis to their next move. Someone they trust. But who?


Who?


EPILOGUE:


"We caught him in the sewers this morning..." Cap points to the man in the ski-mask who is currently tied to a chair. They are in a dank basement surrounded by dripping water and the insect-like humming of the flickering lights above.

"So, this is the infamous Hatman, AKA Commander Jay Boaz..." General King marches over to the capped crusader and smiles. He kneels so he's eye-level with Hatman. "You are going to tell us everything, aincha?"

"You will... never win...." Hatman grunts. "Do... whatever you want... I won't talk...."

General King pushes his head back and rips off his ski-mask, exposing his twisted, melted face.

"NO! MY MASK!! GIVE ME BACK MY MASK!!" Hatman screams. "GIVE IT BACK TO ME!! GIVE IT BACK TO MEEEEEE--*!!"

"Do some surgery on his scars. Make him pretty again," King grins as Hatman bucks back and forth in his chair, cursing out his captors. "I believe him when he says he won't talk no matter what we take away from him. So maybe he will... if we give him something. Give him an offer he can't refuse. Give him back his face."



To Be Continued... By Fin Fang Foom.


(yes, for those with an elephant memory, this is a remake of a story I wrote long ago, but I would say 70-80% has been altered or re-written. It was too cool an idea to let die...)


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