Post by The Wonderful Wachter on Nov 24, 2011 22:38:22 GMT -5
Ultimate Brave and the Bold #3
Death Has a Stroke Pt 2
Poker Face
Eagle Point Penitentiary had two very special visitors with one possessing a likelihood of becoming a more permanent resident. The first was a lovely woman of severe appearance, her style of dress, a blue pants-suit and gray blouse, flat out stating it was a uniform, not a fashion choice. Her skin was olive colored, her eyes and hair a matching brown. Full lips were pressed in a tight line as she tapped her foot impatiently. This was Moya Jones, a mere pawn who one day saw herself as queen.
The second visitor was by far more important and his usual style of dress did scream fashion choice but for now, the blond and beefy Grant Wilson was reduced to an orange jumper, his hands chained to the floor, feet stuck together. Here, every guard and prisoner knew that Grant had an equal chance of escaping as he did remaining locked up forever. One simply did not keep the great Deathstroke’s son in prison. Politics would either free him or he’d break free on his own. It had happened before. Probably would happen again.
The prison itself was located on the coastline of the Gulf of Mexico on a point that withstood hurricane after hurricane without its foundation ever shaking. It was the one of the closest jails America had above maximum, with private funding from Ted Kord and Robert Kane to help keep those with special talents locked up for a longer time. More than its fair share of supervillains was shipped in from out of state. And now the Brave and the Bold wasn’t helping matters. Even with the extra funding, Eagle Point was filled to the brim.
Son of Deathstroke the Terminator and a full prison. Not a good combination in Checkmate’s opinion.
“Ridiculous,” Moya exclaimed with venom towards the Warden. “He’s not going to talk to your men. Now will you let me speak with him or will I be forced to pull rank?”
Warden Harms matched her glare unflinchingly. The big dark skinned man dealt with super powered freaks on a daily basis. It’d take more than some nobody from a government organization to shake him. “Have it your way.”
“Thank you,” still venom in her words. She exited the observation room and walked purposely around the interrogation chamber. Her heart fluttered momentarily at the presence of so many automatic weapons standing outside a single reinforced door. Apparently taking the cast of the Brave and the Bold to school earned one both respect and fear.
The one directly in front of the door waved a passcard across a reader to let her in. Grant didn’t bother to glance at her. His eyes were still in the same approximate place they had been seconds ago, staring through the mirror into his warden’s soul. She had to cough to get his attention when she took a seat a safe distance away from him.
“Checkmate,” he scoffed, zeroing in on her. “Wasn’t aware I had risen that high on the totem pole.”
“Oh, I don’t know, Grant,” she said offhandedly. “We both know you’re here by choice. That attracts enough attention from my people.”
“Choice?”
“Someone like you? Cold and calculating. Went toe-to-toe with the Brave and the Bold, trained by the great Slade Wilson, super powered… Why, there’s no way you’d still be behind bars unless this is exactly where you want to be.”
“To be fair, I learned my lesson some years back. Took out the speedsters first.”
“Funny you should mention it. I read your father disowned you after that, what did you call it? Lesson. Is that why you appear back on the scene for the first time in years, suddenly superpowered? Is this some sort of Look at me, daddy, I can do it! deal?”
He went back to staring past Moya’s shoulder. Pleasure filled her at the thought that she had successfully hit a nerve. That had been easier than she had believed. So much for being the big bad, hunky mercenary. He just wanted to be more like his father.
“Is that why you did it, Grant? The powers I mean. Who helped you to be more like your good, old pa? Was it H.I.V.E.? I hear their Queen would have just loved a man like you. Or someone more mundane? More down to earth. The First Sons? The Royal Flush Gang?” She tapped her chin in faux-thought. “Intergang? No… The scans didn’t reveal any advance technology. That rules them out.”
Still nothing.
“Does it hurt to tell me? Does it, Grant? We know you weren’t a born Meta. Didn’t inherit any of Daddy’s special talents. No special abilities. Not like your brother, Joshua… Or wait, it’s Joseph. Word in Checkmate is he’s your father’s favorite and he’s nothing but an art major. So sad to hear what happened to him. Where were you when those bad, bad men slit your little brother’s throat? Or…” A sinister sneer worthy of Waller twisted Moya’s features. “Were you behind that? Pull a Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat on dear old dad and bro?”
He rolled his piercing blue eyes. “I was there you dumbass. Checkmate knows that. One of my first training excercises back when I was Ravager.”
Oops. Enthusiasm had carried her away with it but at least it merited a response. She closed her eyes; working from memory on what she had read mere moments ago, recalling everything she had studied on the trip to Texas. Everything she had been tasked to do. What she had been given approval to do.
“Ravager—“
“Don’t call me that.”
“Grant then. Let’s get back to the subject at hand, shall we?” Moya switched her smile from sinister to that of a more personal, confidant. At least she hoped she did. “You don’t have to tell me who changed you. Just tell me who you came for and I’ll let you walk out, scot-free. The both of you. Hell, pick five more and I’ll let them go with you too.”
It was then Grant proved to her she knew nothing about sneering. His chiseled features, the perfection of man even if he hadn’t inherited anything special reflecting his father, became something monstrous. Yet it was a terrible beauty. The serpent’s stare. “Sad thing is, I know you would.”
“So you’ll tell me?”
“Of course not. That’d go against the fancy code of ethics my father taught me.”
“Ravager—“
“I said not to call me that.”
“Why?”
“I go by Renegade now,” he tilted his head in thought, “You can take that back to your superiors if the new Ravager lets you live. It should close a few cold cases.”
“New Ravager?” She wasn’t aware it was some sort of legacy title.
“Yes. New.” His chair tilted back as far his chains would let him go. “And I think she’s already here. After all, this is one of her training exercises.”
“Wha—“
The door slid open, body of the headless guard slumped inside. Standing above the corpse was yet another reminder Moya needed to work on looking menacing. Here was a child, a girl not even a hundred pounds, her breasts nowhere near developed. The sword in her hand dripped endless blood, her unique garb, somewhat resembling Grant’s old uniform, was littered in bullet holes… enough to bring down a full grown elephant. And the girl terrified Moya to the very depths of her soul.
~~~
BlueGold Media
In the corridor outside of the medical ward, Teddy, still bandaged himself, shook the hand of specialist he had personally called to look after his trainees. Not that he didn’t trust Kord’s doctors; he just knew from experience that some people understood the physiology of Metahumans better. That the man before him, disability in no way a hindrance, had made it his job to know how to patch up those with special abilities. He had even helped a Flash or two in his time, a rare feat since Teddy could only ever recall Gordon being allowed to get that close. Made him the perfect doctor to fix the Twins back up to spec.
“Thanks again for coming on such a short notice, Chuck,” Wildcat flexed his fingers to strengthen his grip in subtle encouragement. “You sure I can’t get you to stay on personal retainer?”
Charles McNider winced at the hold but took it in good measure. “Sorry but I can’t say the weather in Texas particularly agrees with me. I’d miss snow.”
“Bah. Snow? If you miss that I’m sure I can get Ted to design an indoors ski-park just for you.”
“No Teddy.”
“Can’t say I didn’t try,” releasing the Doctor, Teddy led him down the hallway, his job done and the baton handed to those the BatB already had hired fulltime. “What’s the verdict? What should I be worried about?”
“Based on his rate of healing, Más should be resting for another day. His shoulder will still be tender but I know you heroes, can’t keep you down even when you have Doctor’s orders,” a pointed gesture at Wildcat’s own wounds. “As for his brother… That artificial kneecap will take some getting used to. He does need to rest, hopefully with his brother nearby to speed it along, or he risks doing more permanent damage than I can hope to fix. That mercenary knew what he was doing.”
That the mercenary did. Wildcat had gone up against Deathstroke in the past and lost his head… literally. Anyone trained by him was someone to be wary of and avoided unless you had some real heavy hitters on your side with joint teamwork. Obviously why Wilson’s boy took down the twins first.
“What about that other matter I asked you to look into?” His voice lowered to a whisper. He wasn’t worried about being overheard. It was more about the fact he was overstepping his bounds in making the request.
McNider stopped in his tracks and ran a weary hand through his hair. “I do not know.”
“You don’t know? You don’t know? I thought you worked for those freaks in S.H.A.D.E. before. You should know.”
“It was a single consultation, much like this, Teddy, so keep your damn voice down.” He gave the older man a long suffering sigh. “Besides, not like they let me keep the data. And I was supposed to be sworn to secrecy.”
“You and I both know there’s no such thing as a secret when we correspond with a floating green head.”
“True.” McNider began walking again without his escort. “The only thing I can say without a doubt is, he’s not human.”
Not human, eh? Sorry about that, Kalvin. We’ll figure you out eventually. From experience, Wildcat was happy he kept the matter to himself. Wouldn’t do for Kalvin to be distracted by the fact he wasn’t human. Not when the biggest threat the heroes had to face was just over the horizon.
“You’ll continue to run it against everything you know?”
“Of course, may even ask the Floating Head for help,” answered the Charles with a wry lift of the brow. “It’s ridiculous when the only medicine I can prescribe is for a patient to take a bath.”
Despite himself, despite everything that had happened, Wildcat couldn’t help but laugh. Yeah. That was ridiculous alright. But oh so true.
~~~
The voice of Kate Kane filled the hero’s briefing room with angry yells by the time the door slid open, unlocked, to allow Teddy and Más inside. All the heroes except for Menos and Cheshire had been gathered and were in various states of battle ready, from Booster in full dress to Kalvin in swimming trunks. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the two new arrivals do a double take at Kalvin’s appearance. Knowing how important and powerful he was, Ted had his people put in a giant hottub for the strange hydrokinetic. Kalvin had his gaze riveted on the news broadcasts instead of the heated argument.
“Who the hell is Rose?!” roared Kate, her cowl down and hair matted to her head. She had just got back from patrol and only through orders. The city was in chaos.
Booster averted his eyes from behind his goggles, unable to meet her stare. The other heroes all believed to a certain extant the veracity of his claim to be from the future and an alternate timeline. The public thought it was all a gimmick but inside this room, a room where Wildcat was the only nonhero allowed, he revealed information that would prove true, would help them do their jobs better though he was oft to withhold for understandable reasons. Kate was of the opinion it wasn’t his responsibility to decide what not to tell them. Especially when it seemed to involve a little girl.
“Uh,” coughed Teddy, easing Más down into a chair next to Kord who rubbed the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “What I miss?”
“Eagle Point finally released the video from the break out and I just finished clearing up all the static,” Kord answered and tapped the table at the same time. “Seems Booster recognizes Renegade’s accomplice.” Footage popped up in a 2D picture before the two Teds.
“He more than recognizes, he knows her.” Kate grabbed a fistful of the Greatest Hero the World Had Never Known Until Now and impressively slammed him onto the table, shattering a coffee cup. “And he’s going to tell us who Ravager is.”
Skeets hovered above the pair like a dog who couldn’t decide whether or not his master was in trouble. The whole room was tense even without the threat of more violence on Batwoman’s part. The three of them – Booster, Kord, and Kate – had been on patrol nearly nonstop for over the past twenty-four hours. They were tired and exhausted. Tempers were flaring. And Blue Beetle was doing nothing but scanning the list of escapees, still trying to figure out who Grant Wilson had been paid to break out.
It was the type of situation nobody wanted to be in.
“Is it really that important for us to know who she is?” asked Wildcat with a bit of growing horror in his voice. He watched as the girl, Ravager, slaughtered her way through Eagle Point’s guards. How near the end, one had got off a lucky head shot, making her collapse like a puppet with her strings cut to the ground. The guard approached, his gun held shaking in his grip.
A sword ended up stabbing through the back of his head. Now Teddy had witnessed some gruesome events in the various wars he had been in, especially while serving with the JSA in Vietnam, but children soldiers always got to him. As did those who had to step up to take them down… He had once. Still gave him nightmares.
“Yes. Then we will know where to start looking to find her and get her out of that bastard’s hands.” Kate’s body vibrated with restrained rage. She hated the thought of a girl, a little girl, being used as a murderer. The kid didn’t look old enough to tell right from wrong. The grin across her face had been all too happy.
“Perhaps you should answer her, sir.” Skeets piped in a helpful mechanical tone. “There is a high probability you will get your testicles cru—“
“Quiet Skeets. Look, her identity isn’t important. I just… I just didn’t expect to see her like this or so soon.”
“If it’s not important then why can’t you tell us who Rose is?”
“Enough,” Kord’s voice cut through Booster’s reply like Ravager’s sword cut through bone. “Fact is… Rose… Ravager… whoever she is, is not high on our list of worries. She, or rather, Renegade was obviously hired by someone to get into that prison and get someone else out. At least, that’s what Checkmate thinks and I have to agree.”
“You believe that nitwit Jones?” Kate released Booster and turned her glare on Beetle. “She’s lucky they let her live.”
Kord went on, acting like he never heard her. “Now Skeets believes, and I agree with him too, that their employer and whoever their target is still has plans for Seigelville whereas those two have more than likely already moved on to their next job. If we figure out one, we can probably figure out the other.”
Three profiles replaced the Ravager footage at Blue Beetle’s command. Two were of moderately attractive women. The third was a wholesome looking man that made Más hiss. “I’ve narrowed the likely targets to these three…
“Menagerie, they never did find out her real name, was undergoing examination at Eagle Point by a team of my scientists. Awhile back, she had Checkmate and the British government hyperventilating with the group she ran with.” Her profile changed to show the slaughter of the scientists that had been poking and prodding her for months. Kord’s face betrayed no emotion at the loss of his employees though his eyes did flash in fury.
“Sasha Warren is a renowned chemist, biologist, and geneticist. Wildcat,” he nodded towards the other Ted, “caught her fleeing St. Roche and Hawkman with a new type of highly potent hallucinogen. Formerly worked for H.I.V.E. but believed to be an operative of the First Sons in actuality.”
Teddy stiffened and had the city not been on the tipping point towards chaos, he might have made some bragging remark about it being nothing. Or how he enjoyed beating that bird to the prey. But he kept his mouth shut.
“And finally Guillermo Barrera, otherwise known as Brutale. Supposedly an Ace of Assassins for a deck in the Royal Flush Gang from South Amer—“
Cursing in Spanish prevented him from going on. “He’s no assassin. He’s a butcher.”
“Care to elaborate?”
“We…” Diego struggled, his muscles flexing and tensing as if he was still there. “Bran and I were too slow to stop him from wiping out an entire village that refused to cooperate with the Cartel.”
“Easy kid,” a restraining hand from Wildcat kept him sitting, “You’ll have your chance at him tomorrow. Until then, you are to rest.”
The five heroes around the table spent the next few moment in relative silence. Each one read the profiles of the three likely targets and their connections as recorded by those who had experience with the persons of interest with slight modifications on the parts of Skeets as per Booster and Beetle’s orders. What they could be, what they had been, where they were born… just how dangerous they were individually and in the wrong hands. It had their attention.
Only Kaldur, in his hottub, had his eyes watching elsewhere. With widening pupils and a dropped jaw, he spoke for the first time since Teddy’s arrival. “People. TV. Now.”
The five heads snapped up in unison to see something completely surprising. The flatscreen showed a live newsfeed depicting the historic district. Normally, it’d be a special edition of Brave and the Bold given the dire situation the city found itself in but with all the heroes in the room, there was nobody to film. Well… Not quite true. There was still one hero out there who was not laid up in the infirmary.
“Ha. Well beat me senseless and call me an exwife.” Teddy was the first to speak. “Never would have guessed her plane would arrive on time.”
The six watched in fascination as the lithe form of an Asian woman bounced around, avoiding fire from small arms and strange exploding pumpkins. Around her, the people on the streets screamed in terror, swiping at phantoms no one else could see, making themselves targets for the shooters. It wasn’t long before one of the pumpkins flew towards the camera, flung by a strange woman with a fascination with stitches and a pitchfork, and all the sounds they could hear was that of the man behind the lens’s screams.
The camera dropped to the ground and the echo of a foot stomping ended its signal.
~~~
Not in the city for an hour and already Jade was getting shot at. No time to recover from jet lag. No time to change into a fresh set of clothes. Not even enough time to get into costume before her car had been tossed into the air by an explosion of some kind. She had escaped through the shattered window in midflip. Her driver hadn’t been as lucky and with all the gunfire going on, she hadn’t had the chance to pull him from the wreckage.
Around her mouth was wrapped a strip of her rather expensive shirt, shrouding half her features in case someone recognized her fighting style. She felt a twinge of annoyance at that. She liked the shirt but it was better than losing her sponsors or getting suits filed against her civilian ID. Practicality first.
Yet as she flipped over a pumpkin that emitted a toxic gas upon its splattering, she found herself really wishing she had her suit and gear. Hadn’t realized until now how she had come to rely on its camouflaging and intangibility features. It made her lazy. And now… now she was paying for it.
Cheshire avoided another pumpkin bomb and took down two heavily hooded goons in the same instant when her pocket started vibrating. Life just wasn’t making it easy for her get near that piece of crow-bait. She picked up a gun and tossed it like a boomerang at the nearest thug to knock him out while reaching for her phone.
“Hello?”
“Jade?” It was Ted’s worried voice. If he was so worried, he shouldn’t have called while her life was on the line.
For that matter, why’d she answer? The thought crossed her mind as she was forced to hide behind a car and watch a man claw at his face with bloody fingernails.
“Speaking.”
“You do realize you’re out of uniform and on national television?”
Cheshire glanced up at a news chopper circling above. “I am. And I think that should show you that I’m kinda busy.”
“Oh. I can always call you back later, we just figured you might want to know who you’re up against.”
That got her attention. As did the noxious terror fumes floating over her head. She dived behind another car. “I’m go for info on the freak with the Halloween fetish.”
Cell in hand, Cheshire crawled underneath the vehicle, her bare stomach scraping against the pebbles on the street. If only she could use lethal force. This would be so easier. She sprung out from beneath her hiding place. Her leg swiped out to take down another gunman. She wondered what the point of this senseless chaos was as the toe of her shoe collided with his head.
“Name: Doreen Depp also known as Patches,” the mechanical voice of Skeets recited through the phone. “No metahuman abilities. Makes use of a gaseous drug to trap her victims in living nightmares.” That explained the freaking out civilians. Good thing she had practice in holding her breath. “A lieutenant in a local gang –“
A pumpkin bomb shot towards Cheshire and with a line of sustained gunfire on one side and terrified civilians on the other, she had nowhere to go. “Weakness would be really helpful right now!”
“Brute force, ma’am.”
“Figures.” Not bothering to end the call, she threw the phone straight at the nightmare bomb.
Cheshire dashed through the following explosion of gas without breathing. Her head dropped to avoid the stab of a pitchfork on the other side as Patches waited for her. She leaned to the side, used the shaft as a pivot point, and jumped to the side of gunfire, pulling the freak with her. Another stab except this time by the hero, four fingers straight into the gut quickly followed by an uppercut that knocked Patches’ widebrimmed witch’s hat off.
After that, it didn’t take much to yank the pitchfork free and use it against its mistress. Cheshire slammed its butt into the villain’s nose then spun to hit her with its full length and quite the amount of force upside the head. A duck as somehow Patches managed to get one of her bombs out of her seemingly endless pouch. Jade continued downward until she was almost crouching and wishing the cameras were recording her, she back flipped while simultaneously kicking Patches in the chin to toss her off her feet.
Clank.
The hero trapped the gang goon between prongs of the pitchfork before commandeering the pouch of mini-exploding pumpkins. Sinister smile hidden behind the remnants of her shirt, her piercing eyes observed the remaining shooters quickly dropping their guns and putting their hands behind their head. Ha. She didn’t even have to finish her initial thought. They were as terrified of their leaders bombs as those who managed to flee had been.
Fear was such a good weapon sometimes.
~~~
The House of Cards was such a ridiculous name. And the implications… the implications of it meant that only a single breeze would knock it over. Sometimes that was true. There had been much infighting between all the various Decks, Hands, and Suits over the centuries that to see an almost complete gathering of a single Hand, let alone Deck, nearly found itself an impossibility. Yet, here Grant stood waiting for all to arrive, his little sister at ready like the proper apprentice she was behind him, a butcher to his left, and a package at his feet.
The House of Cards wasn’t quite as literal as it once had been nowadays. Designed by the current Ten of Hearts, it was a virtual reality that could be made to appear in the rather expensive hotel suite that Grant stayed in. The golden walls replaced by the leaning sides of holographic cards. A surreal, almost avant-garde look to it. Made his head spin a tad.
One by one, the highest Deck in North America appeared in the form of their avatars before him. He knew the true identities of some. Just as he knew where the real power laid in the Spades and Clubs, both Suits, showing up in numbers. True Royal Flushes if not for the missing Aces. But it was no matter, Grant knew from personal experience that Aces were mere titles. They didn’t grant the same sort of political power within the worldwide crime syndicate as the Face Cards and even the Tens.
After all, he was their Ace of Diamonds.
His eyes flickered to the only other Ace who showed up, his avatar a shrike with a Heart across its breast. At least Grant’s Queen, Jack, and Ten were curious enough to appear. Shrike had only his Queen as a companion.
Last to arrive but definitely not the least flickered the King of Spades, his smooth southern drawl the serpent’s whisper to ears of his lessers.
“Congratulations are in order it seems, Renegade. You exceeded our expectations far more than I could have hoped. Than we could ever have hoped.” Murmurs from the others agreed with this. Or rather, most of the others. Shike’s avatar remained silent… it had originally been his task except Grant beat him to it. “You truly have proven yourself the Ace of Diamonds… perhaps a promotion is in order as reward.”
The King of Spades took on the appearance of a classic medieval king with pale white skin. A fad the rest of his Suit followed except for the Jack. For some strange reason, Jack had the face of a pig. The four of them glanced at the empty space left by the Ace of Spades and Grant felt a moment of thrill rush through him. If they promoted him that high, he’d be the highest ranked killer in all of North America.
“Don’t be so hasty, King of Spades,” the Queen of Hearts looking like a character straight out of Wonderland began, “We wouldn’t want the current Ace to think we want to replace him, not when he is helping further our plans in his own way.”
“Indeed. Renegade is far too young and hotheaded to be given such an honor,” added the King of Clubs who had chosen to be a simple card. “A failure on his part could have sent us back years.”
The package at Grant’s feet shook, coming to, mumbling into the bag over its head.
“Besides, where is the last new blood you brought into our ranks?” inquired the silky voice of the Queen of Clubs, a woman Grant had met once named Queenie. “I can’t help but notice that you have a new Ten.”
“The Pips didn’t agree with his leadership,” answered Spade, tone calm but lying.
“That could be a problem,” the sparkling Diamond Jack remarked. “He was privy to information that puts us all at risk.”
More shaking and screeching from the package.
“Enough. I foresee no problem. Ten was the commander of my forces, nothing more.”
“Agreed,” supplemented his Queen and new Ten.
“Do you want me to hunt him down?” the sinister whisper of the butcher echoed between Grant’s ears.
“There is no need, Brutale. As I said, there is no problem.”
Silence and then the South American killer nodded.
“Your standard gear is on its way,” Grant’s Shining Queen barked. “We would be happy if you return to your Deck upon its arrival.”
“I think I may stay,” the accent was horrendous. “Much killing to be done here.”
“Más y Menos, eh?” Ten of Diamonds laughed. “I think Renegade took care of them for you.”
“They are mine.”
“Enough.” Once again the King of Spade’s voice cut through, silencing his deck. “Your pay has been transferred, Grant. You are free to leave once my Jack has recovered the package.”
Pig face smiled.
“Now if you would please, take off her head covering. I’d like her to see this.”
Grant snatched the bagged hood off quickly, revealing a lovely woman not used to physical activity but possessing a brilliant mind. A mind that Grant figured recognized the King of Spade’s voice.
“Sasha. Dear, sweet Sasha,” the holographic King crouched before her, letting her see through the false prophet he portrayed. “You will pay dearly for your failures. My Jack,” the pig snorted, “who I went to great lengths to steal from the Europeans, has been longing for your companionship for months now.”
A terrified squeal came from Sasha Warren.
“I’m sure the two of you shall be the best of friends.”
Not knowing what that was about but for once actually caring, Grant decided when he was finally free, to look into who this new Jack of Spades was. His position in the Royal Flush Gang was relatively new and one he knew was originally given because of his heritage so he did not know what they had planned for Seigelville. But… his instincts said there was something off about the Jack and the King of Spades.
Something he needed to find out. If only so he knew it was time to go the route of the Ace of Spades and use his rank only as a tool of fear.
”Don’t forget to pick up your copy of Assassin’s Creed Revelations and witness Ezio’s final story in Embers.”
Death Has a Stroke Pt 2
Poker Face
Eagle Point Penitentiary had two very special visitors with one possessing a likelihood of becoming a more permanent resident. The first was a lovely woman of severe appearance, her style of dress, a blue pants-suit and gray blouse, flat out stating it was a uniform, not a fashion choice. Her skin was olive colored, her eyes and hair a matching brown. Full lips were pressed in a tight line as she tapped her foot impatiently. This was Moya Jones, a mere pawn who one day saw herself as queen.
The second visitor was by far more important and his usual style of dress did scream fashion choice but for now, the blond and beefy Grant Wilson was reduced to an orange jumper, his hands chained to the floor, feet stuck together. Here, every guard and prisoner knew that Grant had an equal chance of escaping as he did remaining locked up forever. One simply did not keep the great Deathstroke’s son in prison. Politics would either free him or he’d break free on his own. It had happened before. Probably would happen again.
The prison itself was located on the coastline of the Gulf of Mexico on a point that withstood hurricane after hurricane without its foundation ever shaking. It was the one of the closest jails America had above maximum, with private funding from Ted Kord and Robert Kane to help keep those with special talents locked up for a longer time. More than its fair share of supervillains was shipped in from out of state. And now the Brave and the Bold wasn’t helping matters. Even with the extra funding, Eagle Point was filled to the brim.
Son of Deathstroke the Terminator and a full prison. Not a good combination in Checkmate’s opinion.
“Ridiculous,” Moya exclaimed with venom towards the Warden. “He’s not going to talk to your men. Now will you let me speak with him or will I be forced to pull rank?”
Warden Harms matched her glare unflinchingly. The big dark skinned man dealt with super powered freaks on a daily basis. It’d take more than some nobody from a government organization to shake him. “Have it your way.”
“Thank you,” still venom in her words. She exited the observation room and walked purposely around the interrogation chamber. Her heart fluttered momentarily at the presence of so many automatic weapons standing outside a single reinforced door. Apparently taking the cast of the Brave and the Bold to school earned one both respect and fear.
The one directly in front of the door waved a passcard across a reader to let her in. Grant didn’t bother to glance at her. His eyes were still in the same approximate place they had been seconds ago, staring through the mirror into his warden’s soul. She had to cough to get his attention when she took a seat a safe distance away from him.
“Checkmate,” he scoffed, zeroing in on her. “Wasn’t aware I had risen that high on the totem pole.”
“Oh, I don’t know, Grant,” she said offhandedly. “We both know you’re here by choice. That attracts enough attention from my people.”
“Choice?”
“Someone like you? Cold and calculating. Went toe-to-toe with the Brave and the Bold, trained by the great Slade Wilson, super powered… Why, there’s no way you’d still be behind bars unless this is exactly where you want to be.”
“To be fair, I learned my lesson some years back. Took out the speedsters first.”
“Funny you should mention it. I read your father disowned you after that, what did you call it? Lesson. Is that why you appear back on the scene for the first time in years, suddenly superpowered? Is this some sort of Look at me, daddy, I can do it! deal?”
He went back to staring past Moya’s shoulder. Pleasure filled her at the thought that she had successfully hit a nerve. That had been easier than she had believed. So much for being the big bad, hunky mercenary. He just wanted to be more like his father.
“Is that why you did it, Grant? The powers I mean. Who helped you to be more like your good, old pa? Was it H.I.V.E.? I hear their Queen would have just loved a man like you. Or someone more mundane? More down to earth. The First Sons? The Royal Flush Gang?” She tapped her chin in faux-thought. “Intergang? No… The scans didn’t reveal any advance technology. That rules them out.”
Still nothing.
“Does it hurt to tell me? Does it, Grant? We know you weren’t a born Meta. Didn’t inherit any of Daddy’s special talents. No special abilities. Not like your brother, Joshua… Or wait, it’s Joseph. Word in Checkmate is he’s your father’s favorite and he’s nothing but an art major. So sad to hear what happened to him. Where were you when those bad, bad men slit your little brother’s throat? Or…” A sinister sneer worthy of Waller twisted Moya’s features. “Were you behind that? Pull a Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat on dear old dad and bro?”
He rolled his piercing blue eyes. “I was there you dumbass. Checkmate knows that. One of my first training excercises back when I was Ravager.”
Oops. Enthusiasm had carried her away with it but at least it merited a response. She closed her eyes; working from memory on what she had read mere moments ago, recalling everything she had studied on the trip to Texas. Everything she had been tasked to do. What she had been given approval to do.
“Ravager—“
“Don’t call me that.”
“Grant then. Let’s get back to the subject at hand, shall we?” Moya switched her smile from sinister to that of a more personal, confidant. At least she hoped she did. “You don’t have to tell me who changed you. Just tell me who you came for and I’ll let you walk out, scot-free. The both of you. Hell, pick five more and I’ll let them go with you too.”
It was then Grant proved to her she knew nothing about sneering. His chiseled features, the perfection of man even if he hadn’t inherited anything special reflecting his father, became something monstrous. Yet it was a terrible beauty. The serpent’s stare. “Sad thing is, I know you would.”
“So you’ll tell me?”
“Of course not. That’d go against the fancy code of ethics my father taught me.”
“Ravager—“
“I said not to call me that.”
“Why?”
“I go by Renegade now,” he tilted his head in thought, “You can take that back to your superiors if the new Ravager lets you live. It should close a few cold cases.”
“New Ravager?” She wasn’t aware it was some sort of legacy title.
“Yes. New.” His chair tilted back as far his chains would let him go. “And I think she’s already here. After all, this is one of her training exercises.”
“Wha—“
The door slid open, body of the headless guard slumped inside. Standing above the corpse was yet another reminder Moya needed to work on looking menacing. Here was a child, a girl not even a hundred pounds, her breasts nowhere near developed. The sword in her hand dripped endless blood, her unique garb, somewhat resembling Grant’s old uniform, was littered in bullet holes… enough to bring down a full grown elephant. And the girl terrified Moya to the very depths of her soul.
~~~
BlueGold Media
In the corridor outside of the medical ward, Teddy, still bandaged himself, shook the hand of specialist he had personally called to look after his trainees. Not that he didn’t trust Kord’s doctors; he just knew from experience that some people understood the physiology of Metahumans better. That the man before him, disability in no way a hindrance, had made it his job to know how to patch up those with special abilities. He had even helped a Flash or two in his time, a rare feat since Teddy could only ever recall Gordon being allowed to get that close. Made him the perfect doctor to fix the Twins back up to spec.
“Thanks again for coming on such a short notice, Chuck,” Wildcat flexed his fingers to strengthen his grip in subtle encouragement. “You sure I can’t get you to stay on personal retainer?”
Charles McNider winced at the hold but took it in good measure. “Sorry but I can’t say the weather in Texas particularly agrees with me. I’d miss snow.”
“Bah. Snow? If you miss that I’m sure I can get Ted to design an indoors ski-park just for you.”
“No Teddy.”
“Can’t say I didn’t try,” releasing the Doctor, Teddy led him down the hallway, his job done and the baton handed to those the BatB already had hired fulltime. “What’s the verdict? What should I be worried about?”
“Based on his rate of healing, Más should be resting for another day. His shoulder will still be tender but I know you heroes, can’t keep you down even when you have Doctor’s orders,” a pointed gesture at Wildcat’s own wounds. “As for his brother… That artificial kneecap will take some getting used to. He does need to rest, hopefully with his brother nearby to speed it along, or he risks doing more permanent damage than I can hope to fix. That mercenary knew what he was doing.”
That the mercenary did. Wildcat had gone up against Deathstroke in the past and lost his head… literally. Anyone trained by him was someone to be wary of and avoided unless you had some real heavy hitters on your side with joint teamwork. Obviously why Wilson’s boy took down the twins first.
“What about that other matter I asked you to look into?” His voice lowered to a whisper. He wasn’t worried about being overheard. It was more about the fact he was overstepping his bounds in making the request.
McNider stopped in his tracks and ran a weary hand through his hair. “I do not know.”
“You don’t know? You don’t know? I thought you worked for those freaks in S.H.A.D.E. before. You should know.”
“It was a single consultation, much like this, Teddy, so keep your damn voice down.” He gave the older man a long suffering sigh. “Besides, not like they let me keep the data. And I was supposed to be sworn to secrecy.”
“You and I both know there’s no such thing as a secret when we correspond with a floating green head.”
“True.” McNider began walking again without his escort. “The only thing I can say without a doubt is, he’s not human.”
Not human, eh? Sorry about that, Kalvin. We’ll figure you out eventually. From experience, Wildcat was happy he kept the matter to himself. Wouldn’t do for Kalvin to be distracted by the fact he wasn’t human. Not when the biggest threat the heroes had to face was just over the horizon.
“You’ll continue to run it against everything you know?”
“Of course, may even ask the Floating Head for help,” answered the Charles with a wry lift of the brow. “It’s ridiculous when the only medicine I can prescribe is for a patient to take a bath.”
Despite himself, despite everything that had happened, Wildcat couldn’t help but laugh. Yeah. That was ridiculous alright. But oh so true.
~~~
The voice of Kate Kane filled the hero’s briefing room with angry yells by the time the door slid open, unlocked, to allow Teddy and Más inside. All the heroes except for Menos and Cheshire had been gathered and were in various states of battle ready, from Booster in full dress to Kalvin in swimming trunks. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught the two new arrivals do a double take at Kalvin’s appearance. Knowing how important and powerful he was, Ted had his people put in a giant hottub for the strange hydrokinetic. Kalvin had his gaze riveted on the news broadcasts instead of the heated argument.
“Who the hell is Rose?!” roared Kate, her cowl down and hair matted to her head. She had just got back from patrol and only through orders. The city was in chaos.
Booster averted his eyes from behind his goggles, unable to meet her stare. The other heroes all believed to a certain extant the veracity of his claim to be from the future and an alternate timeline. The public thought it was all a gimmick but inside this room, a room where Wildcat was the only nonhero allowed, he revealed information that would prove true, would help them do their jobs better though he was oft to withhold for understandable reasons. Kate was of the opinion it wasn’t his responsibility to decide what not to tell them. Especially when it seemed to involve a little girl.
“Uh,” coughed Teddy, easing Más down into a chair next to Kord who rubbed the bridge of his nose between his fingers. “What I miss?”
“Eagle Point finally released the video from the break out and I just finished clearing up all the static,” Kord answered and tapped the table at the same time. “Seems Booster recognizes Renegade’s accomplice.” Footage popped up in a 2D picture before the two Teds.
“He more than recognizes, he knows her.” Kate grabbed a fistful of the Greatest Hero the World Had Never Known Until Now and impressively slammed him onto the table, shattering a coffee cup. “And he’s going to tell us who Ravager is.”
Skeets hovered above the pair like a dog who couldn’t decide whether or not his master was in trouble. The whole room was tense even without the threat of more violence on Batwoman’s part. The three of them – Booster, Kord, and Kate – had been on patrol nearly nonstop for over the past twenty-four hours. They were tired and exhausted. Tempers were flaring. And Blue Beetle was doing nothing but scanning the list of escapees, still trying to figure out who Grant Wilson had been paid to break out.
It was the type of situation nobody wanted to be in.
“Is it really that important for us to know who she is?” asked Wildcat with a bit of growing horror in his voice. He watched as the girl, Ravager, slaughtered her way through Eagle Point’s guards. How near the end, one had got off a lucky head shot, making her collapse like a puppet with her strings cut to the ground. The guard approached, his gun held shaking in his grip.
A sword ended up stabbing through the back of his head. Now Teddy had witnessed some gruesome events in the various wars he had been in, especially while serving with the JSA in Vietnam, but children soldiers always got to him. As did those who had to step up to take them down… He had once. Still gave him nightmares.
“Yes. Then we will know where to start looking to find her and get her out of that bastard’s hands.” Kate’s body vibrated with restrained rage. She hated the thought of a girl, a little girl, being used as a murderer. The kid didn’t look old enough to tell right from wrong. The grin across her face had been all too happy.
“Perhaps you should answer her, sir.” Skeets piped in a helpful mechanical tone. “There is a high probability you will get your testicles cru—“
“Quiet Skeets. Look, her identity isn’t important. I just… I just didn’t expect to see her like this or so soon.”
“If it’s not important then why can’t you tell us who Rose is?”
“Enough,” Kord’s voice cut through Booster’s reply like Ravager’s sword cut through bone. “Fact is… Rose… Ravager… whoever she is, is not high on our list of worries. She, or rather, Renegade was obviously hired by someone to get into that prison and get someone else out. At least, that’s what Checkmate thinks and I have to agree.”
“You believe that nitwit Jones?” Kate released Booster and turned her glare on Beetle. “She’s lucky they let her live.”
Kord went on, acting like he never heard her. “Now Skeets believes, and I agree with him too, that their employer and whoever their target is still has plans for Seigelville whereas those two have more than likely already moved on to their next job. If we figure out one, we can probably figure out the other.”
Three profiles replaced the Ravager footage at Blue Beetle’s command. Two were of moderately attractive women. The third was a wholesome looking man that made Más hiss. “I’ve narrowed the likely targets to these three…
“Menagerie, they never did find out her real name, was undergoing examination at Eagle Point by a team of my scientists. Awhile back, she had Checkmate and the British government hyperventilating with the group she ran with.” Her profile changed to show the slaughter of the scientists that had been poking and prodding her for months. Kord’s face betrayed no emotion at the loss of his employees though his eyes did flash in fury.
“Sasha Warren is a renowned chemist, biologist, and geneticist. Wildcat,” he nodded towards the other Ted, “caught her fleeing St. Roche and Hawkman with a new type of highly potent hallucinogen. Formerly worked for H.I.V.E. but believed to be an operative of the First Sons in actuality.”
Teddy stiffened and had the city not been on the tipping point towards chaos, he might have made some bragging remark about it being nothing. Or how he enjoyed beating that bird to the prey. But he kept his mouth shut.
“And finally Guillermo Barrera, otherwise known as Brutale. Supposedly an Ace of Assassins for a deck in the Royal Flush Gang from South Amer—“
Cursing in Spanish prevented him from going on. “He’s no assassin. He’s a butcher.”
“Care to elaborate?”
“We…” Diego struggled, his muscles flexing and tensing as if he was still there. “Bran and I were too slow to stop him from wiping out an entire village that refused to cooperate with the Cartel.”
“Easy kid,” a restraining hand from Wildcat kept him sitting, “You’ll have your chance at him tomorrow. Until then, you are to rest.”
The five heroes around the table spent the next few moment in relative silence. Each one read the profiles of the three likely targets and their connections as recorded by those who had experience with the persons of interest with slight modifications on the parts of Skeets as per Booster and Beetle’s orders. What they could be, what they had been, where they were born… just how dangerous they were individually and in the wrong hands. It had their attention.
Only Kaldur, in his hottub, had his eyes watching elsewhere. With widening pupils and a dropped jaw, he spoke for the first time since Teddy’s arrival. “People. TV. Now.”
The five heads snapped up in unison to see something completely surprising. The flatscreen showed a live newsfeed depicting the historic district. Normally, it’d be a special edition of Brave and the Bold given the dire situation the city found itself in but with all the heroes in the room, there was nobody to film. Well… Not quite true. There was still one hero out there who was not laid up in the infirmary.
“Ha. Well beat me senseless and call me an exwife.” Teddy was the first to speak. “Never would have guessed her plane would arrive on time.”
The six watched in fascination as the lithe form of an Asian woman bounced around, avoiding fire from small arms and strange exploding pumpkins. Around her, the people on the streets screamed in terror, swiping at phantoms no one else could see, making themselves targets for the shooters. It wasn’t long before one of the pumpkins flew towards the camera, flung by a strange woman with a fascination with stitches and a pitchfork, and all the sounds they could hear was that of the man behind the lens’s screams.
The camera dropped to the ground and the echo of a foot stomping ended its signal.
~~~
Not in the city for an hour and already Jade was getting shot at. No time to recover from jet lag. No time to change into a fresh set of clothes. Not even enough time to get into costume before her car had been tossed into the air by an explosion of some kind. She had escaped through the shattered window in midflip. Her driver hadn’t been as lucky and with all the gunfire going on, she hadn’t had the chance to pull him from the wreckage.
Around her mouth was wrapped a strip of her rather expensive shirt, shrouding half her features in case someone recognized her fighting style. She felt a twinge of annoyance at that. She liked the shirt but it was better than losing her sponsors or getting suits filed against her civilian ID. Practicality first.
Yet as she flipped over a pumpkin that emitted a toxic gas upon its splattering, she found herself really wishing she had her suit and gear. Hadn’t realized until now how she had come to rely on its camouflaging and intangibility features. It made her lazy. And now… now she was paying for it.
Cheshire avoided another pumpkin bomb and took down two heavily hooded goons in the same instant when her pocket started vibrating. Life just wasn’t making it easy for her get near that piece of crow-bait. She picked up a gun and tossed it like a boomerang at the nearest thug to knock him out while reaching for her phone.
“Hello?”
“Jade?” It was Ted’s worried voice. If he was so worried, he shouldn’t have called while her life was on the line.
For that matter, why’d she answer? The thought crossed her mind as she was forced to hide behind a car and watch a man claw at his face with bloody fingernails.
“Speaking.”
“You do realize you’re out of uniform and on national television?”
Cheshire glanced up at a news chopper circling above. “I am. And I think that should show you that I’m kinda busy.”
“Oh. I can always call you back later, we just figured you might want to know who you’re up against.”
That got her attention. As did the noxious terror fumes floating over her head. She dived behind another car. “I’m go for info on the freak with the Halloween fetish.”
Cell in hand, Cheshire crawled underneath the vehicle, her bare stomach scraping against the pebbles on the street. If only she could use lethal force. This would be so easier. She sprung out from beneath her hiding place. Her leg swiped out to take down another gunman. She wondered what the point of this senseless chaos was as the toe of her shoe collided with his head.
“Name: Doreen Depp also known as Patches,” the mechanical voice of Skeets recited through the phone. “No metahuman abilities. Makes use of a gaseous drug to trap her victims in living nightmares.” That explained the freaking out civilians. Good thing she had practice in holding her breath. “A lieutenant in a local gang –“
A pumpkin bomb shot towards Cheshire and with a line of sustained gunfire on one side and terrified civilians on the other, she had nowhere to go. “Weakness would be really helpful right now!”
“Brute force, ma’am.”
“Figures.” Not bothering to end the call, she threw the phone straight at the nightmare bomb.
Cheshire dashed through the following explosion of gas without breathing. Her head dropped to avoid the stab of a pitchfork on the other side as Patches waited for her. She leaned to the side, used the shaft as a pivot point, and jumped to the side of gunfire, pulling the freak with her. Another stab except this time by the hero, four fingers straight into the gut quickly followed by an uppercut that knocked Patches’ widebrimmed witch’s hat off.
After that, it didn’t take much to yank the pitchfork free and use it against its mistress. Cheshire slammed its butt into the villain’s nose then spun to hit her with its full length and quite the amount of force upside the head. A duck as somehow Patches managed to get one of her bombs out of her seemingly endless pouch. Jade continued downward until she was almost crouching and wishing the cameras were recording her, she back flipped while simultaneously kicking Patches in the chin to toss her off her feet.
Clank.
The hero trapped the gang goon between prongs of the pitchfork before commandeering the pouch of mini-exploding pumpkins. Sinister smile hidden behind the remnants of her shirt, her piercing eyes observed the remaining shooters quickly dropping their guns and putting their hands behind their head. Ha. She didn’t even have to finish her initial thought. They were as terrified of their leaders bombs as those who managed to flee had been.
Fear was such a good weapon sometimes.
~~~
The House of Cards was such a ridiculous name. And the implications… the implications of it meant that only a single breeze would knock it over. Sometimes that was true. There had been much infighting between all the various Decks, Hands, and Suits over the centuries that to see an almost complete gathering of a single Hand, let alone Deck, nearly found itself an impossibility. Yet, here Grant stood waiting for all to arrive, his little sister at ready like the proper apprentice she was behind him, a butcher to his left, and a package at his feet.
The House of Cards wasn’t quite as literal as it once had been nowadays. Designed by the current Ten of Hearts, it was a virtual reality that could be made to appear in the rather expensive hotel suite that Grant stayed in. The golden walls replaced by the leaning sides of holographic cards. A surreal, almost avant-garde look to it. Made his head spin a tad.
One by one, the highest Deck in North America appeared in the form of their avatars before him. He knew the true identities of some. Just as he knew where the real power laid in the Spades and Clubs, both Suits, showing up in numbers. True Royal Flushes if not for the missing Aces. But it was no matter, Grant knew from personal experience that Aces were mere titles. They didn’t grant the same sort of political power within the worldwide crime syndicate as the Face Cards and even the Tens.
After all, he was their Ace of Diamonds.
His eyes flickered to the only other Ace who showed up, his avatar a shrike with a Heart across its breast. At least Grant’s Queen, Jack, and Ten were curious enough to appear. Shrike had only his Queen as a companion.
Last to arrive but definitely not the least flickered the King of Spades, his smooth southern drawl the serpent’s whisper to ears of his lessers.
“Congratulations are in order it seems, Renegade. You exceeded our expectations far more than I could have hoped. Than we could ever have hoped.” Murmurs from the others agreed with this. Or rather, most of the others. Shike’s avatar remained silent… it had originally been his task except Grant beat him to it. “You truly have proven yourself the Ace of Diamonds… perhaps a promotion is in order as reward.”
The King of Spades took on the appearance of a classic medieval king with pale white skin. A fad the rest of his Suit followed except for the Jack. For some strange reason, Jack had the face of a pig. The four of them glanced at the empty space left by the Ace of Spades and Grant felt a moment of thrill rush through him. If they promoted him that high, he’d be the highest ranked killer in all of North America.
“Don’t be so hasty, King of Spades,” the Queen of Hearts looking like a character straight out of Wonderland began, “We wouldn’t want the current Ace to think we want to replace him, not when he is helping further our plans in his own way.”
“Indeed. Renegade is far too young and hotheaded to be given such an honor,” added the King of Clubs who had chosen to be a simple card. “A failure on his part could have sent us back years.”
The package at Grant’s feet shook, coming to, mumbling into the bag over its head.
“Besides, where is the last new blood you brought into our ranks?” inquired the silky voice of the Queen of Clubs, a woman Grant had met once named Queenie. “I can’t help but notice that you have a new Ten.”
“The Pips didn’t agree with his leadership,” answered Spade, tone calm but lying.
“That could be a problem,” the sparkling Diamond Jack remarked. “He was privy to information that puts us all at risk.”
More shaking and screeching from the package.
“Enough. I foresee no problem. Ten was the commander of my forces, nothing more.”
“Agreed,” supplemented his Queen and new Ten.
“Do you want me to hunt him down?” the sinister whisper of the butcher echoed between Grant’s ears.
“There is no need, Brutale. As I said, there is no problem.”
Silence and then the South American killer nodded.
“Your standard gear is on its way,” Grant’s Shining Queen barked. “We would be happy if you return to your Deck upon its arrival.”
“I think I may stay,” the accent was horrendous. “Much killing to be done here.”
“Más y Menos, eh?” Ten of Diamonds laughed. “I think Renegade took care of them for you.”
“They are mine.”
“Enough.” Once again the King of Spade’s voice cut through, silencing his deck. “Your pay has been transferred, Grant. You are free to leave once my Jack has recovered the package.”
Pig face smiled.
“Now if you would please, take off her head covering. I’d like her to see this.”
Grant snatched the bagged hood off quickly, revealing a lovely woman not used to physical activity but possessing a brilliant mind. A mind that Grant figured recognized the King of Spade’s voice.
“Sasha. Dear, sweet Sasha,” the holographic King crouched before her, letting her see through the false prophet he portrayed. “You will pay dearly for your failures. My Jack,” the pig snorted, “who I went to great lengths to steal from the Europeans, has been longing for your companionship for months now.”
A terrified squeal came from Sasha Warren.
“I’m sure the two of you shall be the best of friends.”
Not knowing what that was about but for once actually caring, Grant decided when he was finally free, to look into who this new Jack of Spades was. His position in the Royal Flush Gang was relatively new and one he knew was originally given because of his heritage so he did not know what they had planned for Seigelville. But… his instincts said there was something off about the Jack and the King of Spades.
Something he needed to find out. If only so he knew it was time to go the route of the Ace of Spades and use his rank only as a tool of fear.
”Don’t forget to pick up your copy of Assassin’s Creed Revelations and witness Ezio’s final story in Embers.”