FIGHT CLUB

Part II

By Wesley Overhults

New York City

“So how are we going to play this?” asked Taskmaster as he kept his gun pointed at Composite’s head.

“Shut up and let me listen,” ordered Composite.

“The site is going live with a new stream and Finesse is the star of the show,” repeated Quake. “We managed to pinpoint the location and Frankie’s already sent himself there. What’s the deal with the Taskmaster? Is he behind this or not?”

“I’ll let you know when we arrive at the location,” assured Composite before turning off his radio. “So here’s the deal. We know you’re a bad guy and you’ve probably done something illegal since the last time you were in jail but you’re not the bad guy we’re looking for right now. Someone is using the same alias as you and is using one of your old buildings to run an underground fight club.”

“Why the hell is it always my places that people move into?” wondered Taskmaster aloud. “There’s a thing called professional courtesy that I wish more people would realize.”

“We don’t have time for this,” said Composite. “Whoever is organizing this fight club streams the fights through a website and there’s a new stream going live now with Finesse as its main event. Do you know who’s behind this or not?”

“I’ve had hundreds of students over the years,” reminded Taskmaster. “A few of them stand out and I have my theories on who it could be. I’m open to helping you fight this guy as long as you promise to leave me be once it’s over. You want your teammate back and I want this guy to get the hell out of my building and stop having me associated with his crap. Good arrangement or do I have to kick your ass some more?”

“Fine,” agreed Composite reluctantly.

“We’re really going to do this again?” asked Neon as Taskmaster put his gun away and dusted off his cloak.

“He’s not the bad guy we’re after right now,” reminded Composite. “Finesse is our major concern and we have no clue what this guy has waiting for us when we get there. Daisy said that Frankie was already on his way there and we need all the backup that we can get.”

“It’s the last one on the list,” cut in Wipeout over their radios. “I’m about to leave now and I don’t plan on stopping for anything.”

“Are you coming with us or not?” asked Composite as he looked at Taskmaster.

“I never miss a good fight,” replied Taskmaster. “Plus you guys are going to let me walk so I kinda owe you one.”

Requiem shook his head as his eyes glowed and all four of them vanished in a flash of magical energy. The Warriors had their thoughts on their missing teammate. None of them were too particular on how they got Finesse back and nothing was going to stop them.

The Bowery, Earlier

Finesse looked around the cage as the lights in the warehouse went on and her suspicions were confirmed. She had quite the audience even without the knowledge that she was being filmed for everyone watching on the internet. Riot nodded to a burly, African-American man standing next to him before unlocking the door on the cage. The fighter swung the cage door open and stepped inside before Riot closed and locked the door. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to figure out what Riot wanted him to do. The man took up a fighting stance and Finesse automatically did the same.

“There are no rules,” stated Riot. “You fight until one of you can’t get up. If you’re as good as I know you are then you’ll win and someone else gets their shot.”

Finesse’s mind was swirling with questions even as Riot rang a bell and the fight started. Riot basically told her that they were siblings and that their father was alive. Jeanne couldn’t believe that, refused to believe that in fact. Her parents were dead, murdered by a jealous employee who wanted to take control of their chemical company. That was it and anything else was just an illusion, just a lie that this man was using to get in her head. Well if he wanted a fight then Finesse would be happy to oblige him.

Her opponent struck first, trying to rush her into one of the cage’s corners or perhaps take her down. Finesse leapfrogged over him and then turned, catching him with a roundhouse to the jaw before sweeping his legs out from under him. He got back to his feet quickly and Jeanne struck with stiff kicks to his thighs, trying to knot up the muscles in his legs. He threw a punch that she caught and made him pay for by hitting him in the stomach twice and then delivering a palm strike to his jaw. He tried another punch and she grabbed his arm again, delivering an elbow strike to his jaw and then riding him to the floor of the cage. Finesse put her opponent in an armbar and wrenched his shoulder out of socket, causing him to scream in pain. He wriggled out of her hold and got back to his feet but the damage was already done. Finesse kicked him in the kneecap and broke his leg, causing him to fall to the floor and not get up.

“Next,” she jeered at Riot.

An Asian man was up next. He caught Finesse with a roundhouse kick and then kicked her in the back of one of her knees. Finesse decided to take a page out of her first opponent’s book. She rushed the man into the side of the cage and punched him in the face as hard as she could. He reversed their positions and hit her twice in the stomach before kicking her in the jaw. He danced around in an imitation of Bruce Lee as Finesse rubbed her jaw and tried to hide the fact that she could taste her own blood. She went low and took him to the ground, mounting him and beginning to punch him in the face. Though she called herself Finesse, there was no finesse in Jeanne’s offense at this point. She just kept beating on the man but it was taking too many blows to knock him out. Something wasn’t right, wasn’t natural. Riot was doing something to these men and it was augmenting their bodies.

“Getting tired?” inquired Riot as Finesse finally let her opponent up and he crawled out of the ring.

“You’ve done something to them,” said Finesse. “Whatever it is, it’s more powerful than steroids.”

“MGH,” revealed Riot. “Is it sad that even with that drug, they’re still not as good as we are?”

“How about you get in this ring and show me how good you are?” dared Finesse but she knew he could see the blood oozing from her bottom lip. She was fighting a losing battle and both of them were aware of it.

“I believe you have another challenger,” said Riot as he looked to Tyler. “You get your shot now, Tyler. I know you’ve been hungry to prove yourself.”

Tyler didn’t waste any time. He jumped into the ring and stalked towards Finesse. She led with a combination of punches that ended with an elbow strike but nothing fazed Tyler. He was juiced up on MGH and she could tell. It was the same substance that had healed his knee in their earlier fight though at the time Jeanne was too drugged to realize it. Tyler hit her in the face and then gave her a huge uppercut that almost lifted her off the ground. Finesse struggled to stay on her feet. She weaved to avoid his next combination, ducking behind him and giving him a couple shots in his kidneys.

“I barely felt that,” said Tyler as he turned to hit her with a backhand and sent her across the ring and into one of the cage’s walls. “Why does he waste his time on you? Because you’re his sister? I’m his best fighter. I’m his star. I’m the one who’s proved his worth and all he cares about is you.”

“If you wanted to ask him out, you don’t need my permission,” retorted Finesse.

Jeanne ducked the haymaker that Tyler threw at her and saw his hand actually punch through the cage. He cut his hand as he pulled it back but at that point he didn’t care. He was too drugged up on MGH to care about anything except killing Finesse so he could prove his worth to his leader. Finesse jumped on his back and locked in a chokehold. She wrapped her legs around Tyler’s waste even as he tried to shake her off. Finesse had her hold locked in tight though and she wasn’t going to budge no matter how many elbows to her ribs she took. Seconds stretched into eons and minutes were an eternity as Tyler began to succumb to Finesse’s chokehold. He staggered against the side of the cage and rammed Finesse into it before falling onto the mat face down. Finesse gasped for air and noticed the hitch in her breathing. Her ribs were aching and she barely had enough energy to stand. She heard someone get into the cage and felt the rush of air as Riot tried to slam his heel into her spine with an axe kick. Jeanne managed to roll away and got back to her feet. Riot motioned for her to come at him but at this point Finesse couldn’t do much of anything. She tried to catch him with a flying kick but Riot could see all the fighting had already taken its toll on her.

“You’d like to know who our father is, wouldn’t you?” he inquired as he sidestepped the kick and hit Finesse in the back of the head. “I bet you’re aching to find out.”

“I’m aching to shut you up,” clarified Finesse, trying to stay upright even as that blow to the back of her head made her see stars.

“It’s quite obvious when you think about what we’re good at,” hinted Riot.

Finesse wasn’t going to try anything fancy with him. She took up a stance like a boxer and led with her right. Riot blocked all the punches before driving his fist into her gut, forcing all the air from her weary lungs. While she was doubled over and sucking air, Finesse felt Riot hit her in the face with his knee. She fell backwards and felt the blood rush from her nose. She had already lost too much blood. It was starting to make her dizzy and she didn’t think she had the strength to get back up again.

“Why?” she gasped.

“We were born to fight,” stated Riot as he leaned over and looked into the eyes of his supposed half-sister. “That’s what we’re best at, Jeanne. It’s what the human race loves. We love violence because when we fight we show who we really are. When we fight, that’s when we’re truly ourselves. It’s sad that I have to do this to a member of my family but you’ve become soft and weak. I can see it in your eyes, Jeanne. You just don’t have the same fight in you that I have.”

“Must be the sanity getting in the way,” she jabbed at him. “Go ahead and finish it then. At least I won’t have to hear you prattle on.”

Riot didn’t have a chance to say anything else. A geyser erupted in front of him, keeping him away from Finesse. Another stream shot out of the geyser and sent him into the far wall of the cage. Wipeout changed back into his human form and knelt beside Finesse. Once he learned the location of the fight club, he tried to get there as fast as he could. Apparently it wasn’t fast enough but at least he knew that backup was coming.

“Hell of a workout,” he muttered as he touched Finesse’s cheek. “You coulda just gone in for yoga, Jeanne.”

“He said he’s my brother,” murmured Finesse as she tried to get up. “Kill him if I can’t.”

“Whatever the lady wants,” agreed Wipeout, turning to see Riot rise to his feet. “You got nowhere to go. That makes you a dead man.”

“Who says you and I are the only ones in this cage?” asked Riot.

The leader of the fight club whistled and the fighters who were able to rushed the door and even climbed on the cage’s walls just to get inside. Frankie realized that he was going to have to fight all of them if he wanted to get out alive with Finesse. That didn’t matter to him. As long as he stayed in his water form, nothing they did could hurt him. All he had to do was keep himself between Finesse and the fighters. That couldn’t be very difficult.

“He’s been using MGH on them,” warned Finesse as she finally got back to her feet with the apparent intention of fighting off the men with Wipeout. “It’s made them stronger and more resilient than normal people.”

“Also makes them easier to control,” added Wipeout before pulling Finesse’s weapon generators out of his pocket and handing them to her. “I think you dropped these. You should be more careful with your toys.” He grinned at her as Finesse smiled back and clipped the bracelets around her wrists.

“I helped them discover their true selves,” corrected Riot. “Violence unlocks the primal urges in a human brain. Fighting takes a person to their most basic state, their purest state. I learned that from my father. He’s your father too, Jeanne. That’s why we’re so good at fighting.”

“Who is he?” demanded Finesse.

“They call him the Taskmaster,” revealed Riot with a grin. “I hope to one day follow in his footsteps and help others discover themselves through violence. I think it’s time for some self-discovery now.”

With a snap of his fingers, Riot sent his fighters after the two Secret Warriors like they were nothing more than attack dogs. The rabid, animalistic men rushed at Wipeout and Finesse but something got in the way and that something wasn’t going to move. Magical energy flashed as the Secret Warriors and the Taskmaster appeared to halt the group of fighters. Composite still maintained his concrete skin and it served as an effective barrier to create a wall between the fighters and his injured teammate. Henry waded into the fighters, clubbing them even as they threw themselves at him. The Taskmaster dispatched them with more tact, using the lifetime’s worth of fighting knowledge he possessed.

“I thought it might’ve been you behind this, Marshall,” admitted Taskmaster as he saw Riot scamper up the side of the cage and then descend to the floor. “Still as obsessed as always, huh?”

“My father, the Taskmaster,” replied Riot as he clapped in approval. “I hope you’re proud of what I’ve tried to accomplish here today. I’ve brought you and my sister to me so that we can all be a family. It’s actually quite touching. I did all of this for you, dear father.”

“You’re not my kid,” stated Taskmaster as Composite ripped out a whole wall of the cage and tossed it aside to create more space for himself and his teammates.

Finesse shook her head to clear it of cobwebs and saw Riot take his leave. She growled under her breath and wasn’t going to give him the satisfaction of skulking away after turning her life upside down. She wanted answers and when Jeanne Foucault wanted something, she got it no matter what got in her way. She took off in a dead sprint, or as much of one as she could muster, after Riot. Wipeout turned to watch her leave and tried to stop her but he had problems of his own. Riot’s fighters were too enraged by the MGH to think rationally. They just kept coming at the Secret Warriors without thought or reason. All they knew at this point was violence and brutality.

“The mortality rate among first-time users of MGH is quite high,” noted Requiem. “I don’t see how these people managed to stay alive as long as they have if they’ve been taking it.”

“Some people got more fight in ‘em than others, kid,” said Taskmaster even as he fought alongside the Secret Warriors. “The man you’re after is named Marshall Wellington. He was a student of mine once but I kicked him out of my school because he was too unstable.”

“Given your profession, I find that hard to believe,” said Requiem. “I suppose there are standards even among the criminally insane though.”

“Nothing crazy about wanting to make money with your talents,” reminded Taskmaster. “That’s all I do. Marshall, he had a different view of things and that view was catching on with my students. I don’t know if it’s a mutant power or what it is but Marshall can bring out the violence in people like nobody else I’ve ever seen. These guys would be completely nuts without the MGH as long as they were hanging around with him. All that drug did was make them tougher and stronger. Can’t figure out why the hell he thinks I’m his dad.”

“You’d have to ask him or Jeanne about that,” said Wipeout even as he used blasts of water to sweep the fighters off their feet and stop them from attacking.

Composite continued plowing through the men while Neon used pulses of light to keep them at bay. He could feel his material absorption start to wane. He would have to pick up a new form if this fight continued. Fortunately, it seemed that Riot’s violence junkies had their fill for the night. Bodies were strewn everywhere but Henry couldn’t see any of them still standing. In his book, that meant that the fight was over and it looked like the Secret Warriors were going to be declared the winners.

“Looks like that’s my cue to leave,” said Taskmaster with a grin the Warriors couldn’t see under his mask. “That was part of our deal, remember?”

“You cut a deal with this guy too?” asked Wipeout. “I might just have to buy you a drink, Henry. At this rate, you’re becoming my new favorite person.”

“You better not be here in five seconds,” warned Composite.

“Like you and these other kids could take me,” jeered Taskmaster as he took his leave. “For the record, I’m not that girl’s father either. She looks like she’s a hell of a fighter though. Wouldn’t mind having her as one of my students.”

“Leave,” ordered Composite.

Taskmaster waved to the Secret Warriors and departed into the night. The Warriors had bigger problems though. Finesse was alone against Riot and she was in no condition to fight him. They needed to back her up so they could close this case.

Riot made it out of the warehouse and down an alley before a glowing energy baton clipped his legs and tripped him up. He stumbled forward and fell onto the concrete. It was all the time Finesse needed to close the gap between them.

“You have more fight in you than I expected,” admitted Riot as he grabbed the lid from a trashcan and used it as a shield. “If not for your misguided views, I would be proud to call you my sister.”

The blade of Finesse’s energy katana sliced through the lid like a hot knife through butter but Riot clapped the two pieces against Jeanne’s skull and dazed her. She was tired at this point, running on adrenaline only. The blow to her already rattled head left her dizzy and she felt like she was about to pass out.

“My parents were Jacques and Madeline Foucault,” she told him. “That man back there with the bad Halloween costume might be your father but he’s not mine.”

“You fight like he and I do,” reminded Riot even as he kicked Finesse in the stomach and watched her struggle to rise once she dropped to her knees. “You fight like something inside you is trying to get out. That’s what you’ve wanted all your life, isn’t it? I know about you, Jeanne. I know how your adopted parents were rich, how they were murdered and you ran away. You were just a girl and couldn’t defend yourself. It haunted you every night so you made sure you could fight and made sure you could take what you wanted from life. Have you taken enough, Jeanne?”

“You fight without reason,” retorted Finesse as she kicked Riot’s legs out from under him and then tried to drive an energy dagger into his chest while he was down. “You fight because you enjoy violence but when the fight is over you’re never satisfied. That’s the difference between us. You’re an addict. I’m not.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” suggested Riot as he blocked the attack and disarmed Finesse. “Keep telling yourself that your morals and scruples make you a better person than me. We both know that’s a lie, Jeanne. We both know that you’re just as much an addict as I am.”

He could see it in her, could see that she could fight like him. It was what connected them and what had brought them back to each other as brother and sister. He sought to unite his family as any brother and son would have but now he saw the truth. His family was unworthy of his time and affection. His family wasn’t really his family but rather more opponents, more obstacles, for him to overcome. Marshall Wellington was a survivor and he would outlast all of them.

“I’m nothing like you,” said Finesse as they both stood up and Riot came at her. “I will never be anything like you.”

She formed an escrima stick in each hand and used them to block his punches before clapping them against his temples in the same manner he had done to her earlier. The blows didn’t carry much force though. Finesse was losing the fight in more than one way. She let out a gasp of surprise as Riot kicked her legs out from under her, mimicking the move she had used on him earlier in the fight. It was no good. They were too good at copying the other’s moves and both of them knew it. They were going to have to change it up if either of them wanted to win the fight.

Both of them got to their feet and sized each other up. Finesse could feel the anger inside her burn white-hot. In the back of her mind, she knew that there was something unnatural going on. Ever since she had been in the same room as Riot, her aggression level had been augmented. She thought perhaps it was just the constant fighting and that was the last rational thought she had. Some primal force held her in its grip and all she could think about was murdering the man in front of her. She tackled him to the ground and began pummeling him just as she had one of his fighters earlier in the night.

“Get angry,” ordered Riot. “Hit me harder, Jeanne. Hit me until all the weakness leaves you and you become what you were meant to be. Fight me. Fight me!”

Finesse continued to punch him. Her hands moved like pistons as she beat him down over and over again. She was going to kill him. Her head wasn’t in the game and she was going to kill him. What was wrong with her? What was she turning into?

“Let him go, Jeanne,” ordered Wipeout as he pulled Finesse off of her battered and bloodied opponent. Riot struggled to get back to his feet but the fight was already over. A torrent of water hit him and slammed him into the brick wall of the alley. Riot tried to get back to his feet once again but a flash of light from Neon blinded him and then Composite hit him with a punch that took him down. Finesse tried to stay on her feet but she was teetering even as she looked at Riot’s unconscious form. He couldn’t be right. She refused to believe that the people who raised her weren’t her real parents. She refused to believe that she shared the same blood as the man who was lying on the concrete waiting for SHIELD agents to take him away in handcuffs.

“He’s not my brother,” she mumbled to herself wearily, almost collapsing into Wipeout’s arms as he let her lean on him. “I . . . I almost killed him. I don’t understand.”

“Bet he’s going to love it where he’s going,” said Composite. “In prison he can get into all the fights he wants to.”

“Seems like we already lost a fight,” said Neon as she looked at Composite. “How many bad guys are we going to let get away? How many of them are we going to cut deals with so we can get what we want?”

“Bigger picture to look at,” reminded Composite.

“I am all for having this conversation but Jeanne needs a hospital right now,” cut in Wipeout.

“Yeah, that would be nice,” agreed Finesse before passing out in Frankie’s arms.

SHIELD Safehouse 23, The Next Night

Jeanne Foucault looked at the set of uneven bars in the gym and sighed, feeling her cracked ribs shift uncomfortably. She spent the remainder of the previous night in a SHIELD hospital where they tended to her various wounds. It would be a while before she could get on the bars again and it was going to drive her crazy. The whole ordeal was a blur to her, the events clouded by a haze of blood, sweat, and violence. She remembered some things though. She remembered what Riot tried to make her believe. It wasn’t true though. It was just something he used to gain a psychological edge over her, to try to break her. There were plenty of ways to win a fight and not all of them were physical in nature. The problem was that it had worked. She didn’t want to admit that to herself and she would never admit it to anyone else but what he told her had gotten into her head.

Jeanne never had the greatest of parents. They pushed her hard ever since her ability developed when she was five years old. They wanted her to succeed in everything she did and with her power she could do anything. She could learn things faster than any person ever could but it wasn’t fast enough for her parents, particularly her father. Nothing was ever good enough for him. Yet even though she didn’t have any real love for her father, Jeanne couldn’t stand the thought of someone else being her father. Riot’s words made sense though. She could tell that he had extensive combat experience, that he fought the same way she did. When she regained consciousness, Finesse read the SHIELD file on Taskmaster. Given the villain’s powers, it made sense that he could be her real father. She needed to know for sure though. She prided herself on researching a job and a client thoroughly. She enjoyed knowing things because information gave her power over those around her. She had to know for sure who her real parents were.

Finesse let out a long sigh of resignation before unfurling a roll of athletic tape she took out of her gym bag and attempting to tape up her hands. Her costume afforded her the necessary padding to protect her hands, feet, elbows, and knees. Muay Thai was one of the many martial arts disciplines she had studied so she knew all about the eight points of contact. She wasn’t wearing her costume during the fight with Riot and she had paid for it. The bruises on her knuckles and the rest of her body were enough of a reminder that she had to always keep her mind in the game, always keep herself sharp for the next fight.

“I really don’t have the energy for you tonight,” said Finesse, winding the tape around her left hand even as she knew without looking that Wipeout was standing next to her. “I plan on beating the hell out of that bag over there unless you’d like to volunteer as its substitute. At this point, it doesn’t matter to me what I punch.”

“Jeanne, you really need to take it easy,” warned Wipeout. “I heard what the doctors said. He really beat the crap out of you.”

“He got in a few lucky shots,” corrected Finesse. “I’m fine.”

“You’re not.”

She didn’t want to listen to him, didn’t want to admit that he was right. Things would make sense once she got in front of that punching bag and started hitting it. Things always made sense when she was fighting because in a fight she could block out everything else in her mind and focus on her current task. She could forget about her father’s disapproval. She could forget about the craving she felt to win his attention, his affection, his love. She could forget the final look of disappointment on his face as she watched him die and was helpless to stop it.

“You don’t know what I’ve lived through,” she told him. “I have a better assessment of my body’s abilities than you do.”

She continued winding the tape even as she spoke. Her hands were still sore and it kept her from her task. She looked at the job she had done on her hand and cursed inwardly. It wasn’t perfect. Nothing she did was ever perfect. Nothing she did was ever good enough.

“I know enough,” countered Wipeout even as the roll of tape slipped from Finesse’s grasp and he managed to grab it before it hit the floor. “Here, let me help you.”

“I said I’m fine!” she snapped as he took her hand in his. She didn’t pull away though and it was this inaction that both of them noticed.

She was tired of fighting all the time, tired of always being on guard for the next threat. It was all she knew though, all she allowed herself to know. Most people had a sense of security about the world around them. They told themselves that things would be okay and they generally believed themselves. Finesse didn’t have that sense of security anymore. It was ripped away from her at too early of an age and she had spent so long trying to get it back yet not accomplishing that goal.

“I’m sorry he hurt you,” whispered Wipeout. “Daisy ran his real name through the SHIELD files and he turned up on the Caterpillar List. From what they know, he secretes pheromones that screw with people’s aggression levels. What you were going to do to him wasn’t your fault.”

“Nobody’s perfect,” she told him glibly. “Frankie, I . . . I think I need to take a paternity test. What he said about my father . . . I just don’t know anything anymore.”

“I’ll go with you,” he promised her. “We’ll see the doctor together, you and me.”

“No,” said Finesse with a shake of her head. “I need to do this on my own. Thank you though for coming after me and saving my life.”

“Get some rest,” he advised.

She decided to take that advice, unwinding the shoddy job she had done on her hand. Training could wait a little longer. Her mind could work faster than any normal person’s could but that didn’t mean her body could do the same. As soon as possible, she would try to get a paternity test to determine who her true father was. For the moment though, she was through fighting. She didn’t care about letting her guard down because she knew that even if she kept it up all the time, life would still find some new attack to throw at her. Maybe fighting all the time wasn’t the best way to live her life. If she continued going on that way, she knew she would turn into what Riot had become. So maybe it was better to lower her defenses and let people in. Maybe life wasn’t always so perfect and maybe, just maybe, she was learning to be okay with that.

Next Issue: While some of the Warriors go in search of their pasts, they must confront Blackheath as he holds the entire Roxxon board of directors hostage.