Paladin in…

BOOM!

By Stuart Fairchild

The events in this issue take place before Bullet’s appearance in Marvel Omega’s Hulk series

Columbia, South America

He has been called so many things in his life that they all began to blur years ago. He has been branded many of names such as a hero, a villain, a mercenary, a private investigator and a gun for hire only to rich. He has allied himself with the good, the bad and the ugly. What you are labeled does not matter to him. How much you are paying him does. He is Paladin, man-stalker without equal.

He can’t help but laugh when people try to simplify the world around him by defining it as good or evil; right or wrong; black or white. He learned years ago to just see everything in shades of grey. It is a world in which perspective does not calculate into the equation. He found it simpler that way.

When a man is caught stealing an apple he is called a thief. If he brings home that same apple to his starving son he is a provider. For the right price, he will overlook both those aspects and place a slug into the skull of that very same man no questions asked. That is how he works. It is who he is.

Why you ask?

‘The world may never know.’

It is the same question that the poor souls guarding the drug compound will never know the answer to either. Fortunately for them, the source funding his operation in South America did not pay for killing meager guards. Nor did it account for the scientist filtering the cocaine. His fee did not include the trafficker who runs the shipment into Miami or any other labor associated with the drug operation. His price was for one man and specific targets in South America. Any other kills would be for…free.

‘Are you kidding?’

He could barely say the word yet think about such blasphemy. He couldn’t let such ferocious rumors happen. He believed in treating people all the same. He had a reputation to hold up and he intended to keep it that way.

The men working would never know he was there. The breeze felt when he had passed many of them, mistaken for just a calm breeze out of the east. Noises they thought they heard coming from wood planked floors just a brief notion of creeks from an old house. Men would not die this day. Money would not be taken. They will not know someone was there until they opened their unconscious eyes and see the end result of the mission.

BOOM!!!

Miami, Florida

He is Ulysses Lugman; a mobster known as the Slug in South Florida who oversees all non-Maggia criminal operations in the region. He is Florida’s version of the Kingpin and much like his counterpart, totally able to deny any links into criminal activities.

He has built quite an impressive empire through criminal and political means. It is an empire that has faced little opposition until recently. It is a challenge he does not like.

“Cortez!” Slug shouts as he tries to regain his breath. “You have news for me.”

The man dressed in a white suit begins to stammer out of fear of the information he possessed. “Another compound was hit, Mr. Slug.”

“How many does this make?”

“It is the third one this week, Mr. Slug. Projected damages estimated near sixty percent in that region.”

The Slug clenches his fist as he stares at the man through his shades. “Do we know who is responsible for this, Cortez?” He asks, his sudden red complexion showing his rising anger. “The Punisher maybe?”

“That name was one of the first to come up but ruled out due to …overwhelming circumstances.”

“Which were?”

“No one died. No shots fired. No blood spilt. Not at any of the compounds. Just the compound and the machinery used in production. It was more like a message was being sent.”

“A message?” Slug replied furiously. “A message! You come to me with news that three of my biggest compounds get destroyed. You have no names to suspect and all you can come up with is that someone is sending me a message.”

Cortez looks down in shame as if he were seeking forgiveness from the gigantic mobster “…Yes, Mr. Slug”

“Bullet,” Slug calls out as a figure seemingly peers out from the shadow behind Cortez. He is a tall man carrying plenty mass of his own. His mere shadow engulfs the frightened lackey like an eclipse of the sun.

“I do not tolerate incompetence, Cortez. I have not placed myself in this position by accepting such failures and excuses. I did not accept failure then and I do not plan to start now.” The Slug explained as he gave Bullet a gesture.

Without a hesitation, the giant sized man known as Bullet grabs Cortez’s head in his enormous hands as if it were a grape and squeezes it as Cortez struggles for air, feet dangling in the effort.

“Goodbye Cortez.” The Slug commanded as a loud snap echoed the room only to be followed by the thud of a motionless body.

“I need you to go to South America and stop this. I want to know who is responsible for this. I want you to find him and cut of his arms and legs and make him bleed. We understand each other, Bullet?”

“Crystal.”

Columbia, South America

Word gets around that if I take out the Slug’s main compound that another million will be forwarded to me. If I’m able to download information from his computer mainframe with contacts and shipping routes related to his drug empire, I get another five hundred grand. The source did not have to pull my arm for me to accept. The smile on my face could have told him that.

The guards patrolling the compound are the same as the other three; heavily armed with probably some military experience. Throw in a few hungry watch dogs and some mounted heavy caliber guns mounted on the upper deck; one could think they could hold off quite an invasion. Too bad they didn’t hire me as a security consult. I could have told them were to improve their security patrol. See how things work out. Bad for them is good for me. It really is about perspective.

I enter the east entrance with stun gun in hand. I didn’t even have to use it on the guard patrolling the gate and the two guarding the upper patio. If I could pull off this mission with out me ducking bullets, the better it is for me.

The guards guarding the room with Slug’s mainframe would be another story. Two unsuspecting fools getting paid to just stand there and pull a trigger if anyone gets near the room. It is a simple job they are doing well for the most part. A quick blast to each of them prevents them from firing off a few rounds at me and alerting the others. I guess they couldn’t complete the full job description.

Entering the facility and the room is the easy part if probably skilled. Accessing the main database from the computer is another story. Luckily for me, Silver Sable gives out useful toys to her agents. I guess being neighbors with Dr. Doom has its advantages for her small country. Advantages I reap in full at the moment as all it takes five seconds to get pass the security locks and download the entire memory file.

With the database taken care of, I head for the lower corridor to plant some timely explosives to complete the job. It’s a shame that such a lovely home will be witness to such damage. I will have to see if I can afford me one just like it.

“Going somewhere Paladin?” A voice rings out from a corridor.

I stop to turn to the source of my name. “Can I help you?”

The man tosses a stack of money in my direction. Crisp one hundred American dollars neatly wrapped. The eyes of Benjamin Franklin seemingly stare directly at me on the bill.

“What is this for?” I ask before I graciously take it.

“It is half your payment that we arranged. You get Slug’s database and blow up this compound like the others. It was actually the only way I knew I could draw you out here. Unfortunately, you will not be able to spend that half of the money or complete your assignment.”

His words rang of deception as his smile signaled an ambush. The sudden sounds of roaring machine guns filling the room revealed an attempt to bring me down. I guess Slug was a little angry about the other compounds. Can’t we all just get along?

Gunfire continues from both ends of the hallway as I somehow manage to get footing on a table and leap to the second floor. I take a few shots to the ribs but my padded armor takes the brunt of it. Never the less, it will still leave some bruises in the morning.

I turn, stun gun ready, to see a woman old as my mom. It’s the damn maid shouting obscenities to me in Spanish. I could barely understand her as she spilled curse words faster then I could think of them. The sudden roar of more gun fire on the second floor did not help matters either.

“Senorita,” I bark as I grab her and throw her into the near by room. She begins to shout for Jesus as she proceeds to smack me repeatedly as if I had offended her. I just saved your life woman and this is the gratitude I get.

“No mas!” I cry out as I shove her down on the floor to help her avoid the oncoming gun fire. Does she appreciate what I just did? No; she continues to swear at me even after I saved her life. Damn it, lady; do you use that language at home.

I tumble toward the balcony door, crashing through the glass and leaping toward the center courtyard. I land awkwardly, slightly tweaking my ankle. A loud crash is heard even over the gun fire that makes me forget the pain and divert attention toward the crash. That big bastard who set me up just ran through a wall and headed my direction.

He closes the distances too fast to fire of a shot. The guy has to be nearly seven feet tall and close to three hundred pounds. A man with that much mass and moving that fast has to cause plenty of damage. It’s potential damage I happen to avoid as I manage to roll with the impact and counter it to flip over him. I gather myself and fire a few shots toward the men on the upper balcony. I don’t need stray tank piercing rounds penetrating my body armor.

“I know a man in a red suit with horns that can do the same thing.” He shouts as he turns to look directly at me.

He must be talking about Daredevil. Obviously he has tangled with him much like I have. I have to end this fast since I don’t know who he is or what he is capable of doing.

“There is a difference between us though, other than the uniform.”

“What is that?” He asks.

“This,” I reply as my finger readies the trigger on my gun. All it takes is a split second to get a good shot off at this distance.

It is a split second I soon discover I do not have. I grit my teeth as the force of some explosion is discharged from behind me. It feels as if someone is ripping my spine out of my back. It throws me a few feet and seemingly engulfs the man calling himself the Bullet with debris and shards of lose glass.

Did someone set off a grenade in our area?

I doubt it instantly as soon as I see the damage to the compound. Men are left for dead everywhere as fires erupt throughout the facility. Bullet begins to scream commands that I can barely hear over the commotion. I can easily take him out here and now when he is distracted but I did not get paid to do that. I need to regroup, get my money and tend to my injuries. Did I say get my money? Of course I did. I must have.

Miami, Florida

It has been close to a week since my fight in Columbia. My body still aches as it was yesterday. As I stare out my window I know I have one more piece to my mission to fully collect; Ulysses Lugman known as the Slug.

I stare out into the Miami nights as a warm breeze finds its way to me. It is so refreshing and clean. It has a life of its own. It reminds me of money.

“It is nice is it not?”

The voice was female as much as it was unexpected. I slowly reach for my gun on me and surprised I still stood at the edge of my room.

“Do not worry, Paladin. I am not here to hurt you. If I were here to harm you, you would be dead already.” She says so easily.

Her voice is gentle and sincere as I turn to see a beautifully tanned figure sitting in one of the patio chairs. She cracks a smile as she looks at me.

“I am Cecilia Cardinale.”

“The pleasure is mine to meet you. Cardinale,” I mutter her last name trying to place it. “…Cubana?”

She nods her head yes as I expect more information from her.

“I take it you were responsible for the explosion in Columbia.” I ask already knowing her answer.

She lets out a small chuckle as she rises from her seat. “It had to be done. I am deeply sorry if you suffered any injuries.”

“Normally I would not be worried if a beautiful woman just showed up at my steps but under the circumstances, the situation worries me.”

“Are you going to kill the Slug, Paladin?”

“If I was paid to do so I would. I am not though.”

“That is a shame then.”

“Why?”

“The Slug is a monster. He is a demon that needs to be put down. I came here to look in the eyes of the man that would kill the Slug. Instead, I came here to tell you that I will do it myself.”

“If you do that then you mess with my money. When you mess with my money you mess with me.”

“Do not get in my way Paladin. You may be cute but not that cute.”

“What makes you think you can get to the Slug?”

“A couple of years back, my body merged with an alien named Ylandris. In that merger I gained all of the alien’s memories and powers. I am more than capable of killing the Slug. I just needed someone to bring him out into the open.”

“I always collect my money Cecilia.”

“This will sadly be one of the few times you do not. Adios, mi amore,” she says with a faint smile and a glimmer in here eye. She leaps effortlessly over the edge, without hesitation. I quickly run toward the edge to see what would happen next.

I see her slender body plummet downward toward the street only to slowly glide gracefully to the adjacent building. The woman had ability but it was ability that was going to interfere with my money. I would have to be a step ahead of her if not two.

Bullet walked into the banquet slowly and carefully. He did not like the fact that his employer was having a festival after all that had transpired. He did not know nor care for the people the Slug had invited. He had a gut feeling that this was the wrong decision to be made. He tries to give a stern demeanor but the sniper scope directed toward him knew otherwise.

“What bothers you, Bullet?” Slug asks as he chewed on grapes fed by woman in the banquet hall.

“It is too risky. Paladin’s body was not found in the explosion. He is rumored to be willing to walk to Hell and back to collect a paycheck.”

‘That is an interesting notion. I will have to remember that for later advertisement.’

“Then he will surely burn and kneel before me. I will not change my lifestyle by the mere actions of a mercenary. ”

‘Just hold still you fat bastard.’

“I have planned this event for months. I have tripled security in this building…”

‘Just another second’

“Placed two helicopters in flight over head in the vicinity…”

‘One more second.’

“And secured every possible assassination point in the adjacent buildings…”

‘Not all of them.’

“I could barely catch a cold yet alone face an attack from the Paladin.”

Slug’s words were barely spoken as thuds began to fill the room causing the security surrounding the Slug to fall quickly. Bullet jumps from his chair quickly to get into his intercom as a couple of surviving guards began to escort the Slug out of the room.

“Airwolf One, where are those shots coming from?” Bullet yells. “We have every possible adjacent building secured.”

“The shots aren’t coming from the adjacent building. They are being shot through the adjacent building. I repeat; someone is firing shots from a point two buildings over.”

“What!” Bullet yells in disbelief as he grasps his mask and heads toward the direction of the gunfire. He is halted by a lone tiny figure dressed in black, standing in the door way.

“Get out of my way.” Bullet shouts as he tries to take a swing at the person dressed in black. The attempt is easily avoided and countered with a firm kick to the knee cap. For a split second, a crack could be heard but is quickly muted by the yell of a fallen man.

“My…my knee. You busted my freakin’ knee.” Bullet yells in agony as the assailant shows no remorse and lets him wince in agony. The figure then begins to weave through the oncoming running crowd as it has only one thought in its mind.

“Slug!” the voice calls out as the figure enters the room to see the morbidly obese man.

The figure stands there momentarily to take off its mask to reveal the face of a woman. It is intended to be the face of his executioner. Her eyes would say enough, as it clearly had death written in them.

“Poison,” Slug cries out as he prepares for her attack.

It is an attack that is interrupted by another who fires shots at the remaining guards near Slug with a final shot bearing down right on the skull of the giant mobster. It is then followed with a quick leap toward Poison knocking her off her stance.

“Paladin, Slug is mine. I told you not to interfere.”

“Slug is my paycheck and I plan to collect. You think I thought of a sniper rifle from two buildings over for free.”

“I could care less. He is going to die with my hands. Not knocked out by your damn stun gun. He has to pay for his crimes.”

“Kill the clichés and let me collect. I know of a person from Symkaria that could use your abilities. Pay is good, benefits are great and you can make your own hours.”

“Do not mock me!” Poison screams as she flails a punch at the purple armored hero for hire. It is punch that Paladin easily rolls with to diminish the effect but a punch he still wants to connect.

Poison, known to Paladin as Cecilia Cardinale just hours ago, lets out a scream as a surge of electricity races through her body. She begins to fall only to be caught by Paladin who gently lays her down on the floor.

“Sorry for the electrical shock but I had to get you out of the way. Like I said, I always collect my money.”