NOTE: The following events begin two weeks after the end of USAgent #10 – MC

The BAD Girls and the Skeleton Crew in…

GIRLS JUST WANNA

By Clayton Tooley

“Stop.”

The voice making the command was not menacing or loud but it was as powerful as a shotgun blast to Matthew Rozzins. Driving the prisoner transport between the S.H.I.E.L.D. detention center in NYC to the secure direct-flight to the Vault out of a secluded base in northern New York State (to avoid making a scene inside the city by having super-powered idiots get free with civilians around) was a cushy job that Matthew had enjoyed for the last six months. In that time he’d gotten used to hearing a lot of strange things on local talk radio, especially lately with all the rancor and disagreements involving the political and economic problems in the country.

This voice, however, was not the normal pundit he listened to at this time of the day or even the great Ronnie B, who’d be on in an hour. No, this voice was musical and he immediately downshifted the hauler and applied the brakes, unconcerned with the traffic behind him.

“Pull over just before the next overpass and park.”

Nodding agreeably, Matthew engaged his signal and slid smoothly off of the interstate and onto the shoulder, carefully bringing the large vehicle to a stop, parking it and engaging the warning flashers.”

“Open the passenger side door to the cab.”

Matthew flipped the switch next to his wheel and entered his security code, even as he heard the door to the prisoner area beginning to cycle behind him, most likely meaning one of the three guards back there was coming to see why they had stopped and why Matthew wasn’t answering his radio, which was obvious since he hadn’t been told to do so yet.

As the rear compartment door opened the cab door did as well and a heavy set man in a very nice business suit and beard said, “Sleep,” and both Matthew and Anthony, the guard just stepping in from the back, slumped forward, the standing Anthony rolling right out the cab door at the feet of the bearded man, who calmly stepped over him and into the truck and leaned into the prisoner doorway saying, “Everyone freeze!”

Inside the back compartment, two armed S.H.I.E.L.D. guards froze with their weapons raised and eyes wide. Seated along the walls were five members of the recently captured Resistants mutant cell: Occult, Quill, Paralyzer, Batwing and Crucible, each restrained in a power-dampening seat.

The Voice pulled the earpiece from his left ear that he’d used to override the transport’s communicator to speak to the driver. He walked past the frozen guards and took their weapons from them as he walked. To the one near the rear he said, “Open the back door then step aside.”

The man turned and walked directly to the door, entered an override code and then stepped to the side as the door swung open and ramp descended, resting on the pavement at the feet of a man wearing a black costume with a white skull mask and crossed white bones on his thickly muscled chest, over a belt stuffed full of weapons. Brock Rumlow, the mercenary known better as Crossbones, walked calmly into the truck and nodded at the Voice, who had the guard close the door behind them.

Crossbones walked down the length of the secured Resistants and calmly assessed them. “Well, what a row of superstars we got here, eh? Fire, electricity, force beams, flying and even razor sharp quills…you bastards can deal some damage, and yet here you sit after having your asses handed to you by a loser with a shield. And not even the GOOD loser with a shield, he at least I could understand, he’s a tough cookie. But USAgent? C’mon…”

Crucible and Paralyzer both looked at him with death in there eyes and he chuckled. “Oh, so I see I’ve hurt your feelings. Ok, floors open, lets hear it.”

He nodded at the Voice, who said, “Speak.”

“Fuck you, freak!” Paralyzer spat, his eyes wide and his neck straining. “That bastard is a murderer! He kills us for fun!”

Crucible chimed in, his face just as flushed. “He murdered Meteorite!”

Crossbones shook his head. “At most he’s killed a dozen people and it was the blackie that took your boss down, but he deserved it. All that power, more than all’a you combined, and he can’t smash them all? He got what he deserved.”

He leaned forward, his expressionless facemask just inches from Paralyzer’s face. “And I’ve killed more than a hundred people, mutant, and if you call me ‘freak’ again, I’ll put your sorry ass on the list, you understand?” To make his point, he reached down and sank his hands into the solid steel manacles holding Paralyzer’s arms immobile and ripped them from the seat with ease.

He stepped back, holding both pieces of twisted metal and looked at the Voice. “Still getting used to that,” he said, dropping the metal and going along to the other Resistants and ripping them free as well. When he finished, he walked back to the middle of the truck and spread his hands.

“Here’s the deal: I’m offering you all a job that comes with lots of perks, the least of which is that at some point very soon we’re going to going after the USAgent and destroying him and his new team. This is a one-time offer and I won’t repeat myself.” He turned to the Voice and nodded.

“You’re free,” the Voice said, stepping back behind Crossbones in case anyone had any ideas.

“NO!” Quill said, leaping forward and running for the door to the cab and the sliver of daylight beyond. The quills on his body, having been rendered inert by the power dampeners, needed time to respawn and he wanted no part in anything that brought him in contact with the USAgent again. He almost made it to the door when a crossbow bolt struck him between the shoulder blades and dropped him in the doorway to the cab, electricity arcing over his body so powerfully that he couldn’t scream.

“Anyone else want to turn down my charity?” Crossbones asked, reloading his crossbow.

“I…I…I would…please don’t make me,” Occult said, shrinking in his seat and keeping his eyes closed. “I don’t want to fight, don’t want to hurt any more. Please just leave me.”

Crossbones raised his crossbow again but this time was stopped when Batwing flew forward and put himself between Crossbones and Occult. “I want in but I won’t allow him to be hurt,” the mutant said in a low, rough voice that he barely used. His wings were unfurled, their tough leathery skin looking thick enough to stop a bullet, and his eyes began glowing with yellow energy. “He is peaceful and not cut out for this…not like us. That is my price for my obedience to you, human.”

Paralyzer and Crucible were standing and stretching and testing their powers, which were slowly coming back to the enhanced level they had been boosted to after their recent fight with USAgent. They looked at each other and gauged the situation, the long-time friends committed more to each other than anything else, but they moved together and stood to either side of Batwing. “We agree with him,” Crucible said, nodding at Batwing.

“Let the runt go and leave the pin-pussy with the SHIELD guys, and we’re with you,” Paralyzer said. “They may be cowards but they’re still mutants.”

Crossbones lowered his crossbow and shrugged. “Can’t believe I’d see compassion from mutant terrorists, but I guess it’s possible for fellow mutants. You care about the pigs, too?” he asked, indicating the two frozen SHIELD Agent’s by the door.

“We didn’t say that,” Paralyzer said as he and Crucible both raised a hand and fired their respective powers at the two frozen, defenseless men, who died unable to even voice the tremendous pain they were feeling as one was electrocuted and one charbroiled. It caused a terrible stink in the enclosed space, one that forced the Voice to step carefully over the still spasming Quill and into the fresh air outside the front of the truck.

Crossbones didn’t move or even react to the display, merely nodded after it was over. “Fine, lets go then, and leave the two guys up front alive so they can report this calling card to SHIELD and, more importantly, USAgent.” He stepped around them to Occult and leaned forward. “I better never see you again, and you leave your friend over there where he lays. You got me?” Occult nodded and bolted away, hopping over Quill and was gone.

Crossbones walked past the new members of his team and out the door to the transport and stopped beside the Voice, who was watching for emergency responses to the SHIELD vehicle being parked on the side of the road. Batwing, Crucible and Paralyzer came out after Crossbones and stood before him, arms crossed. “What’s stopping us from double-crossing you and killing you both?” Paralyzer asked smugly.

“You can’t…now,” the Voice said, smiling. “You can never harm either of us, directly or through indirect means, consciously. Thanks for reminding me.”

Crucible scowled. “Why not just make us complete puppets, then?” he asked.

“I don’t want action figures I have to direct like a game of fucking Halo,” Crossbones said. “I just don’t wanna get stabbed in the back. You do what I say and you’ll live a life you’ve never known, muties. Betray me, and you’ll think fighting USAgent in a barn in Georgia wearing Watchdog uniforms coated in geezer blood would be safer.”

Two Weeks Later
Las Vegas, Nevada

Stolen money just wasn’t what it used to be. Sure it spent well, carried well and was fun to sleep in piles of, but somehow the excitement just wasn’t there for her any more.

In the two months since she’d landed in Vegas when the last of her leads on Tonya and Asp had dried up, Rachel Leighton had found herself at a crossroads. Adapting as she had since she’d escaped abuse as a teenager, she’d reinvented herself each night as a different woman at a different casino, turning her quick hands into quick cash, or chips, or jewelry…whatever happened to come her way, including men. But despite her efforts to mingle and swindle, she’d never felt more alone in her life.

Which was why she was in her suite at the MGM Grand staring out over the Las Vegas Strip drinking thousand-dollar scotch in her underwear. Her long legs carried her slim, athletic torso as she bent at the waist and rested her forehead against the cool glass of her floor-to-ceiling window, staring out at the Sin City. How had she lost so much in so short a time?

Other than a case of conscious driving her to help Hawkeye out with that Masters of Evil business a few weeks back, she’d spent quite a bit of her time lately looking for Black Mamba and Asp, who had disappeared without a trace. Just when she’d gotten desperate enough to face Steve again after all this time and explain her disappearance to him, he’d gone and gotten himself and the Avengers excommunicated by the government, leaving her totally alone and without options.

Well, that wasn’t entirely true. Ana had contacted her with an offer from King Cobra to join a new Serpent Society team he was assembling, but $10,000 to kidnap a nobody was not a sufficient reason for her to forget that the Society had tried to kill her about three times now, and her skin crawled at the thought of having the slimy Klaus anywhere near her. She’d tried to talk Anaconda out of doing it, but that was a lost cause. If there was violence and money, Ana was in for it, though the call had ended on friendly terms. Rachel didn’t know why, but she liked the brutish woman and wished her well.

The life as a member of a team of snake-themed super-criminals did not hold the allure that it once had for her, back when Sidewinder ran the team before the Viper nearly killed them all. It was when she had really connected with Steve Rogers, Captain America, and her life of crime had seemed to tiny and confined compared to the adventures he would go on and that she would soon join him on. From the depths of New York to the sands of Egypt to the Savage Land, for a while they had almost found something more than that…

But it fell apart when Superia blackmailed her for accidentally killing Snapdragon after her body had temporarily been enhanced by a forced transfusion of Captain America’s blood. Though the super-soldier serum had mostly faded from her system, the unexpected sense of power had pushed her toward revenge not only against Snapdragon for trying to kill her months earlier, but also Brock ‘Crossbones’ Rumlow, the man who’d beaten and tortured her since her childhood and had twice confined and bullied her under the excuse he was ‘helping her’ be better.

Though she had not killed Snapdragon intentionally, she didn’t think Steve would see it that way and after helping him battle Baron Zemo with that new girl Superia had enhanced, Free Spirit, Rachel had worked for Superia as Snapdragon until Superia had been killed and she’d finally been back on her own. But unable to reconnect with Steve or locate her B.A.D. Girls friends, she’d spent most of the last year alone.

Which made it even more surprising when a voice behind her said, “Diamondback, I need your help.”

Rachel Leighton moved so quickly it would have been impossible for a regular person to have tracked. Her head came off the glass and around even as the hand holding her drink flicked it, seemingly effortlessly, toward the sound of the voice as it was saying “I”. Spinning downward at a 45-degree angle, Diamondback flipped her body over the table behind her and flattened herself against the hallway wall off of the main room she’d been standing in, her left hand removing a diamond-shaped earring and preparing it to throw.

As she peered into the main room, however, she saw the glass she’d thrown hit her target squarely, only the woman who she’d aimed at snatched it out of the air without spilling it’s contents, took a sniff as she finished her plea and then downed the last of the cocktail. The blonde woman who Diamondback was vaguely sure she recognized put the glass onto the coffee table and looked back at her. “I don’t have a lot of time, Rachel. Belinda needs our help…soon.”

“Belinda?” Rachel said, cautiously stepping out of the hallway and taking a closer look at the woman. “I don’t know her or…wait.” She lowered her arm and cocked her head to the side. “I do know you. Nomad’s chick…Vagabond, right?”

Priscilla Lyons blushed and ran a hand through her dirty blonde hair. “Once, a lifetime ago. We met during the Viper’s attack on the Society. My name is Priscilla Lyons.”

“You saved Sidewinder’s life then elected to remain in custody with Dummy Man.”

“Yes,” Vagabond said, her demeanor frosting. “Dennis and I decided it was the right thing to do, which it was.”

“Right. Sorry,” Rachel said, holding her hands up and realizing she was still in her underwear. “So, Belinda and help…what’s that about?” she asked as she crossed her arms over her chest.

“If we don’t intervene in 45 minutes, Belinda Stewart will be killed by the Skeleton Crew.”

Half an Hour Later
Las Vegas Airport

Belinda Stewart was lost.

In the weeks since the Resistants had been brought down, she’d slept maybe 20 hours and eaten just enough to keep her moving, though losing about fifteen pounds wasn’t really a concern for her. As far as she knew she was the only senior Resistant member to make it out safely, having abandoned her fellows after seeing how they’d beaten up her former lover, Zach Moonhunter, whom she’d believed was a mutant speedster named Cyclone, when they’d found out he was a mole in their group and not actually a mutant at all.

This was actually the second thing that had gotten to her, as Meteorite had made her stand and watch as they viciously beat Isaiah to a bloody pulp because they believed he was helping Cyclone, which he was, but seeing them abuse a fellow mutant like that was too much for her. Plus, even after what he’d done and what it led to…she still loved Zach and she knew he was a good man, but he had betrayed her, destroyed her home and friends… How did she forget that?

It was immaterial, really, since she had effectively cut herself off from everyone she ever knew, loved or could trust. She was a known member of a mutant terrorist group and then she’d ran out on them. Her family had cut her off when she’d become a mutant openly and she’d never had many friends to begin with. She thought back to her simple days as a librarian in her hometown and she cried a little, her head in her hands at what she’d gained and lost since then.

“Hey, honey, are you all right?”

Belinda looked up to see a kindly old couple standing before her, having apparently been making their way to seats closer to the terminal and noticed her crying. Wiping her eyes quickly and trying to straighten out her long brown hair, she nodded and smiled. “Yes, I’m fine. Just had a bad day. It’ll be better soon, thank you.”

The older couple smiled at her and the old lady patted her hand softly with her wrinkled hand and they moved on. Belinda watched them and considered her beliefs. Up until she’d admitted to herself that she was a mutant, she’d never thought about normal humans particularly, thinking that she was one after all. Even when she’d realized what she was she had considered it a blessing; after all, she was a built-in super-hero! But reality crashed in when her parents had found her using her mists to quiet rowdy patrons to the local library and talk her way out of tickets and dinner checks.

Looking back she realized she was letting her powers get the best of her, finding that being able to gas up whomever you were talking to until they felt so good they’d give the pretty girl whatever she wanted, or releasing a choking, painful mist at anyone who angered or tried to take advantage of you, was being a bit of a megalomaniac. She’d never stopped to consider how she was using or misusing her powers until they’d confronted her. Terrible things had been said, from both sides, and she left that night, striking out for wealth and fame…and failing beyond miserably.

Homeless, penniless and terrified, she’d been found by Isaiah and brought to his friends, the mutant support group turned activists known as the Resistants. They had sold her on their lifestyle, beliefs and goals until she drank the Kool-Aid…and then it was too late to stop once the violence, robberies and assaults began. It had all come crashing down in Washington DC two years ago when the replacement Captain America, whom she now knew better as USAgent, had beaten the shit outta them all. They’d escaped from jail eventually and relocated to Death Valley and a little peace and quiet for once.

Then Meteorite started pushing their ‘agenda’ again and Occult and Quill got nabbed, but new members were added to their ranks, including Banjo and his horrific family, and Cyclone, who’d been working the area around their refuge for, reportedly, several months before joining them. He’d worked with them a lot up and until they’d rescued their fellows and then USAgent and his team had attacked them. The betrayal of Cyclone and the beating of Isaiah, coupled with the rumors she’d been hearing about Meteorite having caught and torturing two other heroes, had caused her to simply turn and run from the fight, fleeing into the desert with what provisions she could grab, hoping to either stay away from the heroes or ahead of Meteorite.

And that was how she’d ended up here, weeks later and still running, trying desperately to get off the west side of the country and down south or up north and across a border. She’d stolen money, well, she’d been given money by a guy who thought she was selling something else entirely, but he likely woke up wondering why he didn’t feel especially put out, and had now just twenty minutes until her flight to Michigan was leaving, the first flight meeting her criteria, and her hopeful escape into Canada.

It was then, of course, that the terminal roof exploded.

“Everybody scram!” a loud voice said as three figures dropped to the floor and stood, surveying the area. “Except you, Misty!” Paralyzer said, pointing an electrically charged metallic hand at her. “You’re coming with us!”

Belinda’s mouth dropped open as she crawled backwards across the terminal seats and away from her worst nightmare standing in front of her. Paralyzer, Crucible and Batwing stared at her with murderous glee in their eyes. This can’t be real! she thought in a panic.

“Looks like Bones’ information was spot on,” Crucible said as he fired off blasts of flame in various directions, scattering the tourists and destroying many of the slot machines lining the middle of the terminal, which was at the end of the concourse the farthest away from the main hub of the airport. “We’ve found our little traitor.”

“No…no…no…” Belinda said quickly as she fell off the seats and onto the floor, scrambling to her feet and trying to run. An impact of yellow-energy hit her back and bowled her over and only the fact that she still wore her Resistants uniform under her clothing kept her from receiving the entirety of Batwing’s attack and probably saving her back from being broken. She still fell flat on her face and slid, blood bursting from her nose as it impacted the tiled floor.

She turned and looked back, tears streaming down her eyes but she was surprised that the three terrorists weren’t advancing on her and were actually taking a step back, staring over her in shock. Belinda turned her head and looked up, seeing a pair of strange women standing there wearing strange costumes.

Both were quite tall, one wearing a pink and purple costume with bandoliers of what looked like razor-sharp diamonds wrapped around her thighs, calves, upper arms, forearms, gloves, neck and waist. Her hair was pink and spilled about her face in quite an attractive manner, but her blue eyes looked out from her domino mask with ruthless concentration. Her high-heels were at least three-inches and appeared razor sharp, as did the long earrings dangling three to an ear.

The other was standing in a pair of biker boots and tight blue jeans overtop of a tight tank top of colored red and white stripes, with a short blue jacket on overtop, rolled up to her elbows with tiny red gloves on her hands. She wore a mask tied across her face, covering her nose and mouth but leaving her eyes free, which were covered by her blonde hair that was held back by a red headband. In her hand she held two golden disks of shiny metal.

“Leave,” the pink one said, her voice flat but direct.

“Make me,” Crucible said, raising his arms and loosing a tremendous wave of fire in their direction.

Belinda screamed but realized that the fire hadn’t touched her because she’d moved. She opened her eyes and found herself across the room being lowered to the ground by the blonde woman, who paid her little mind as she flexed backwards suddenly, a blast of Batwing’s golden eyebeams passing where she’d just stood, an amazing display of reflexes. Then the woman was moving and she was fast, much faster than either Belinda or Batwing had expected, and she landed from her leap atop some of the ruined slot machines, her hands moving in a blur and her disks were flying through the air, both slamming into Batwing at the same time, one in his forehead and one in his Adam’s apple, dropping him to the ground gasping for air.

The other woman was just as deadly, firing off her diamonds like machine gun bursts and their effects were amazing. She peppered Crucible and Paralyzer with a dozen different things, from miniature explosions, various gases, oil slicks, glue, acids, sonics, tasers, etc. It seemed as if she was just trying to keep them off balance and see what worked on them given their powers and the protection offered by their costumes. She danced around them, never within 10-15 feet, her moves as graceful as any Olympic gymnast. She was keeping them off-balance but not driving home any particular attack, and it caught up to her.

Bloodied and angry, Paralyzer growled in anger and slammed his hands together, the metal sparking and crackling as he loosed his internal energies at the same time and a shockwave of energy rippled out, catching the pink woman in mid-air and blowing her backwards toward the wall that was weakened when they had blown the roof off and she hit it hard and passed clean through, disappearing as gravity pulled her down on the 15-20 foot drop to the tarmac below.

“Diamondback!” the blonde woman said, growling in surprised anger, panic clear on her face. She had seemed almost serenely calm to this point, but it appeared she hadn’t been ready for that and it angered her. She charged for Paralyzer but was intercepted by Crucible, who lashed out at her with a vicious, burning kick that caught her on her jacket, flipping her over the seats and into a column. Her jacket smoldered but didn’t burst into flames, apparently flame-resistant. Behind her attacker, Paralyzer leapt out of the hole, following Diamondback out onto the runway.

Vagabond landed in a crouch and snarled. “Ok, now I see how this ends,” she said, grabbing an object from the other side of the column and spinning suddenly, pulling out a large fire extinguisher and blasting Crucible with the foamy spray directly in his face and chest, momentarily extinguishing his flame and choking him. Belinda had watched the fight in the desert and knew that Crucible’s powers had been enhanced so she supposed he had kept them toned down for the benefit of his teammates, but she could see him begin to smolder as he gagged out the retardant, amping up his fire to overcome the attack.

But the blonde woman gave him no time as she closed the distance to him quickly and swung the heavy extinguisher around hard and shattered his jaw with the impact, snapping his head around and slumping him over onto the ground, out cold. She sagged, however, from the effort and didn’t see Batwing lurching toward her from behind, having recovered somewhat from her attack. His talons were extended and he reached back to slash at her…

But his hand was caught by Belinda, who spun him around and slapped her free hand onto his face, blasting him with a concentrated burst of knock-out gas, forcing it up into his nose and down his throat, which was easier given his throat was damaged from the earlier attack and he was breathing hard. After a few seconds the strength left his arms and he slumped down on the floor beside the bubbling Crucible.

The blonde woman looked up at her from where she sat and smiled. “I knew you’d come around, Mist Mistress. My name is Vagabond and we came here to save you. Now, let’s go,” she said, lurching to her feet and moving to retrieve her disks.

“But…” Belinda said, a dozen questions coming to her mind, but only one seemed reasonable for this moment. “What about your friend?”

“Appreciate the sentiment,” a voice from the hole in the wall said and Belinda turned to see Diamondback crawling over the side and up into the room, getting shakily to her feet, “but your old buddy was an overconfident dumbass who apparently doesn’t believe women are worthy opponents. When he wakes up with a migraine and gonorrhea he might rethink that.”

“Gonor…you have STD diamonds?” Vagabond asked, shocked and slightly disgusted.

“I have diamonds you couldn’t imagine, Pris,” Rachel said, laughing sadistically. “They are a girl’s best friend, after all.”

“Who ARE you two?” Belinda said, completely overwhelmed.

“I guess you could say we’re the new B.A.D. Girls,” Vagabond said, pulling her mask off and laughed as Rachel rolled her eyes. “And we’re here to help you save some lives.”

“Save some lives?” Belinda asked. “Whose?”

“Well, yours, obviously…but also a man named Zach Moonhunter…for starters.”

To be continued in the pages of USAgent!