DESTRUCTION IN THE SOUL

By Derrick Ferguson

Janelle Ban reacted without thinking, her gamma irradiated cells decreasing in density so that she was able to pass through solid matter like an intangible phantom. Which she did with no problem, passing through the metal table and through the door until emerging on the other side. She stood in the circular metal corridor and watched as the round metal door shuddered from the impact of a thousand pounds of angry Hulk. Rivets an inch long and an inch thick popped out of the door and sped through the air, passing through the still intangible Janelle Ban. The door shuddered again as The Hulk battered at it.

Janelle turned completely solid and ran down the corridor, the echoes of her booted feet drowned by the roar of the man-monster that she claimed was her father; “Get BACK here!” She threw a look over her shoulder and saw the thick door being forcibly yanked off the hinges. The Hulk bounded into the wide corridor, bellowing wordlessly. The Hulk charged after Janelle, his every footstep making the entire corridor vibrate, leaving foot shaped dents in the metal floor.

Janelle turned the corner and ran full out, heading for the bank of elevators at the end of the corridor. The Hulk tried to make the turn but slipped on the floor and slid right into the wall, causing such a tremor that Janelle was herself knocked off her feet. Both of them scrambled to their feet but Janelle had lost precious ground and The Hulk was rapidly gaining. The impact of his feet was like the relentless pounding of two great war hammers, sounding a dirge. Janelle imagined she could feel his hot breath on the back of her neck as he gained on her.

She turned her flat out run into a dive, turning intangible and plunging through the elevator doors and down the shaft. The Hulk slammed into the elevator doors and with a grunt of annoyance lifted one massive fist and simply knocked the doors inwards.

The doors fell past Janelle, who was floating down the elevator shaft, due to her being only slightly heavier than the air, thanks to her current state of intangibility.

“Gonna get you, girl!” The Hulk howled down the shaft. “Gonna GET you!”

Janelle alighted on top of an elevator car that was five levels below the one where The Hulk stood, looking down the shaft with a murderously gleeful grin on his unlovely face. And then he simply jumped into the shaft, plummeting down on Janelle like a green meteor.

She turned intangible again and phased through the roof of the elevator car and through the floor just as The Hulk hit, both his legs crashing through the roof of the car. She floated down to the next level and stepped through the elevator doors and into the corridor. She reached to her belt and unclipped a compact communications unit no bigger than her thumb. “Attention all levels! Attention all levels! Serenity Base is now under Gamma Level Lockdown! I repeat: Gamma Level Lockdown! I need two squads of security to meet me on Level Fourteen with the special shotguns!”

Klaxons were whooping like enraged devils and small red lights had popped up from the floor, indicating the path one should take to the nearest emergency shelter. Most of the staff would be heading there after shutting down as much as they could. There had been trouble at Serenity Base before. Not quite like this, true. But Janelle’s staff was well trained. No one would panic. At least not until the heard The Hulk was loose. But Janelle expected to have him subdued long before then. The ‘special shotguns’ would see to that. She hoped.

The elevator doors were kicked in and The Hulk stomped into the corridor, nostrils flaring, his deep set eyes glaring with rage. “I thought you wanted ta talk to your daddy, little girl? Wassamatta? Scared to sit on daddy’s knee and give him a kiss?”

“You may be my father but you’re still an irrational, unthinking brute. It was my hope I could come to some kind of accord with you through your alter ego-“

“You wanna talk ta me then talk ta ME!” The Hulk roared. “Banner don’t do my talkin’ for me!”

“That’s not what I hear.” Janelle taunted, backing up slowly. She had to keep him talking until her squad of security arrived. And that shouldn’t be too much longer. “According to the reports I’ve been receiving, Banner pretty much calls the shots for both of you these days.”

That was the right button to press. The Hulk sprang the length of the corridor to land where Janelle had been. That was because she had again become intangible and drifted right through the floor. The Hulk battered the floor in a fit of impotent anger. Behind, Janelle emerged from the floor, rising slowly as she mentally manipulated her density.

The remaining operational elevators stopped on Level Thirteen and a dozen well armed men exited, squared away in full combat gear. Janelle Ban motioned for them to spread out. “You’ve got the shotguns?” she asked.

The Hulk whirled around, his squawk of laughter sounding like the unpleasant dying sounds of a wild animal. “Shotguns? Girlie, I thought you were supposed ta be some kinda genius? Unless you got shotguns the size of cannons you and your boys better start runnin’.”

Janelle Ban was grinning and amazingly, that grin did have a significant resemblance to the one on The Hulk’s face. “Oh, I wouldn’t be stupid enough to go up against you with conventional shotguns. Just like I wouldn’t be stupid enough to call gamma ray projectors by their real name around you.”

Three of the men had hung back and now they stepped forward, each of them carrying a gamma ray projector. Projectors invented and built by Bruce Banner himself. Gamma ray projectors that had one purpose: to force the change from Bruce Banner to The Hulk. And vice versa.

“Hit him!”

All three men fired as one and three blinding beams of gamma ray radiation hit The Hulk at the same time and he vanished in a corona of seething emerald energy, his howl of frustration echoing through the entire complex.

Hardbottle’s cell phone rang and he put down his copy of the San Francisco Chronicle to dig in a side pocket of his thick leather jacket to fish it out.

“Hardbottle”

“Ah, Lt. Colonel Hardbottle?”

“Who is this?”

“You don’t know me personally but you might have heard of me. My name’s Everett Ross. I’ve done some work with The Black Panther and The West Coast Avengers.”

“I’ve heard of you, Ross. How’d you get this number?”

“It was given to me by The Human Torch. He suggested I use it to call you and advise you that The Hulk is in Seattle. I have the address of his location that I’m sending to your cell phone even as we speak.”

“Back up just a minute, Ross. How do you know where The Hulk is? How’d you get involved in this? And how much do you know about me and my assignment?”

“I don’t know a thing and I’d like to keep it that way, sir. I was called by another party who’d rather not be implicated in this business anymore than he already is. Do I really have to be more explicit than that?”

“No. You don’t. I get you. So this ‘other party’ found out where The Hulk is and used you to pass on the information to Hammond, eh?”

“That is effectively the gist of the situation. The Human Torch is going to fly to Seattle under his own power. He said to tell you that he’d wait for you but he wouldn’t wait long before making his move.”

“Shouldn’t take us long to get there. Seattle’s about 800 miles from San Francisco.”

“What are you doing in San Francisco?”

“It’s a long story I’d rather not go into right now. Thanks for pulling my coat, Ross.” Hardbottle confirmed that his phone did have the promised information and he closed it up and put it away. He sighed and folded up the newspaper and tucked it under his arm and got up from the bench he’d been sitting on.

The immense 18-wheeler that served as rolling headquarters for his team of Hulkbusters was parked under The Golden Gate Bridge. But not just any spot. This was Fort Point, the spot where Kim Novak jumped into The San Francisco Bay and was rescued by Jimmy Stewart in the movie “Vertigo”. The movie had long been one of Hardbottle’s favorites and he always wanted to see it. So while Agent Bullet and The Dreadknight went about recovering the latter’s Hellhorse, Hardbottle had indulged in some sightseeing. Not that he would tell the others that, of course.

He ambled over to The War Wagon where Annabel St. Cyr was standing outside, looking up and out at the spectacular span of The Golden Gate Bridge. She turned and smiled slightly as Hardbottle walked up.

“Let me guess,” she said. “Vertigo.”

“Dang. How’d you guess?”

“We spent a weekend in Aruba where you insisted we watch it twice.”

Hardbottle chuckled. “Where’s laughing boy?”

“Inside. Which is why I’m out here. I swear, Felton…if he calls me ‘baby’ just one more time-“

“I’ll talk to him. But for now, hands off. I need him. At least until this mission is over. Once my objective is acquired you can flash-fry him for all I care.”

“I’ll hold you to that.”

Hardbottle climbed inside the spacious interior of the War Wagon to find Ammo with his feet up on a workbench, reading a copy of KING that featured Serena Williams on the cover. Hardbottle wrestled with his overwhelming urge to kick Ammo’s legs off the table but changed his mind. Very soon his life might depend on this man’s marksmanship. No need to keep pissing him off unnecessarily.

“Ammo, you checked out that M82 like I asked you?”

Ammo looked up from his magazine and spoke around the thick cigar in his mouth. “Sure did. Cleaned and tested. She’ll be ready.”

“You can handle a gun that big?”

“Man, anything that can fire a bullet I can handle. Dunno what good you think bullets are gonna do against The Hulk, though.”

Hardbottle reached into the breast pocket of his leather jacket and withdrew a gleaming silver .50 caliber shell. “I don’t think he’s going to be able to laugh these off.” He tossed it to Ammo who caught it, hefted the bullet with some surprise.

“What you’re holding there is a solid adamantium bullet. You’re only going to have three of them so don’t waste ‘em.”

Ammo whistled. “Jeez, guy…you figger this’ll put The Hulk down?”

“What I think is that if anybody is shot in the head with an adamantium bullet, even The Hulk…he’s got no choice but to go down.”

Annabel’s voice called from outside; “Bullet’s back.”

Hardbottle and Ammo walked out to watch a cab pull up to where the War Wagon was parked. The cab was riding low in the back seat due to the impressive weight of the passenger who spent a good twenty seconds twisting himself out of the back of the cab. Agent Bullet stretched his arms over his head, his joints audibly cracking and popping as he joined his teammates.

“Where’s Velsing?” Hardbottle demanded. “Didn’t I tell you to keep him on a short leash?”

“Hey, maybe you shoulda went with him, then. Once he saw that freak horse of his, he went absolutely apeshit and started tearing up the place.”

“With what? He didn’t have any weapons!”

“None that he told you about. One minute I’m talking to the director of the place just as nice as you please. She’s giving me shit, sure, but I’m throwing handfuls of government paper at her. Yeah, they’re bullshit but she don’t know that.” Bullet grinned. “Anyway, I can see she’s starting to cave and it don’t hurt that I’m standing over her like I’m getting ready to topple right onto her and squash her like a bug when funny face hollers: ‘Enough!’ throws off the disguise he was wearing and stands there in all his Dreadknighty glory.”

Hardbottle groaned but Ammo was grinning like a schoolboy who’s drilled a hole into the girl’s shower room. “So what happened then?”

“Alla a sudden these electrical bolts come flyin’ outta his gautlet an’ he’s fryin’ everybody in sight, cussin’ ‘em out somethin’ fierce in Latverian. I’m yelling at him to stand down but he’s not listening. In about 12 seconds flat, everybody in the place is fried and he just walks over an’ yanks open the door of the cage holdin’ that freak horse of his.”

“Then what?” Hardbottle insisted.

“What do you mean, then what? He flew away on his horsey, that’s what.”

“And you didn’t stop him?”

Bullet sighed. “Felton, I ain’t exactly made for flyin’. Before I could get my wits back he was on the horse an’ they were gone, dude.”

Ammo was laughing so hard he could hardly stand up. Even Annabel St. Cyr’s lips were curled upwards in a big smile.

“I’m glad the rest of you find it funny. Not only do I have to explain away a massacre of innocent citizens I’m responsible for losing a-“

The neighing of a horse drew all their eyes skyward. The Dreadknight sat bareback on a midnight black bat winged horse with eyes of blazing crimson. The huge wings raised a miniature dust storm as it landed with a near dainty precision. The Dreadknight climbed down from the back of The Hellhorse and lovingly stroked the creature’s neck as Hardbottle stalked over to where they stood.

“Thought I told you to let Agent Bullet handle the negotiations for the release of your horse, Velsing.”

The silver winged skull mask flashed in the sunlight as it turned to regard Hardbottle. “He was taking too long. My Hellhorse was caged like an animal.”

“So you murdered God knows how many people just to turn your damned horse loose a few seconds earlier?”

“Colonel Hardbottle. Please do not presume to lecture me on ethical behavior. I have spent enough time in your company to assure me that you care little for the lives of those people. All that concerns you is the inconvenience you will have in covering up the incident.” The Dreadknight continued to stroke The Hellhorse’s neck. The Hellhorse bared razor-sharp teeth at Hardbottle.

“You disobey my orders again and I’m going to see for myself exactly how hard it would be to remove that mask from your face.”

“Now that I have my Hellhorse back there will be no further insubordination from me, Colonel.”

Hardbottle grunted. “Then get that thing aboard. And you clean up after it. We’re rolling.”

“Where to, Felton?” Annabel asked.

“Seattle. We’ve got a location on the target. Time to earn our money.”

Bruce Banner awoke secured to a massive iron chair. Heavy restraints weighed down his arms and legs and more restraints were belted around his torso. He couldn’t move as much as a millimeter. In addition he could feel that there was some kind of metal band encircling his head. But since the sparse, gray walled room had no mirrors or reflective surface of any kind he had no idea what the band looked like. But he could guess its purpose.

The door of the room opened and Janelle Ban walked in. Smiling triumphantly, her heels clicking on the metal floor, she closed the door and stood there, hands on her slim hips. “How do you feel, Uncle Bruce?”

“I have a severe headache. I’d like some aspirin and a drink of water, please.”

“Certainly.” Janelle Ban walked out of Bruce’s line of vision. Apparently she’d anticipated his request because he could hear water being poured into a glass. Janelle returned to his line of vision and popped four aspirin in his mouth and held a glass to his mouth as he greedily drank down the water, relishing the coolness as it soothed his dry, parched throat. Only when the glass was empty did she take it away. “Enough?”

“For now, yes. Thank you.”

“I may have been a little excessive in having The Hulk shot with three gamma ray projectors at once. But The Hulk’s DNA has mutated over the years and I wasn’t sure if one would be enough.”

“You might have killed him. Did that occur to you?”

“Dear Uncle Bruce…I honestly don’t think that The Hulk can be killed. I have no doubt that sometime in the far distant future only The Hulk and the cockroaches will inherit The Earth. I suppose he’ll have to fight them for supremacy of the planet since there will be nobody and nothing else for The Hulk to vent his rage upon.”

“What in God’s name do you want from me? Or from The Hulk?”

“I need both of you. My research into creating gamma radiation enhanced mutations has reached a dead end. There is no way possible I can continue without Bruce Banner and The Hulk.”

“And why should we help you?”

“Because there’s a team of superhuman government assassins coming here right now to kill you. Well, actually to kill The Hulk. But I strongly suspect that they’ll settle for you, Uncle Bruce. They’re led by a man named Hardbottle who I believe you know.”

“I know him. But why should I believe you?”

“The Vice-President of The United States gave Hardbottle an assignment: you’re to go to Genosha and offer your services to Magneto. Magneto himself wouldn’t refuse the aid of one of the most brilliant scientists living today. Magneto reputedly is quite the genius in his own right when it comes to genetics.”

“So I’ve heard.”

“But your real mission would be to turn into The Hulk at an opportune moment and have him kill Magneto. The United States would step in and seize control of Genosha.”

“What would make The Vice-President and Hardbottle think I’d ever agree to such an insane plan?”

“They would make all of Magneto’s genetic research available to you as well as his equipment so that you could pursue a new avenue of research into a possible cure for your condition.”

“They don’t know me very well,” Bruce muttered.

“So you would not consider accepting their deal?”

“Absolutely not.”

“How about a deal from me?” Janelle’s eyes sparkled with what might have been amusement.

“I’m listening.”

“I’m perfectly willing to help you against Hardbottle and his mercenaries. In return I want your word that you’ll help me with my research.”

“You expect me to help you create gamma irradiated mutants? But WHY?”

Janelle Ban’s voice was low and urgent as she said; “There is a vast conspiracy at work here, Uncle Bruce. It goes further and deeper than anybody suspects or even would believe. If you trust nothing else I say, trust this: if you don’t agree to help me then this planet has no future. Humanity has no future. And there is nothing that the superhuman population can do about it. Indeed, they will be the first casualties of this conspiracy.”

“You’re laying it on awfully thick, young lady.”

“But I speak the truth. And now you must decide. Hardbottle and his people are coming to kill you and my secret masters are waiting for your answer to my proposal. You have to decide right now what you’re going to do, Bruce Banner. And for the sake of this world, I pray you make the proper decision.”

NEXT ISSUE: Hardbottle and his Hulkbusters hit Seattle while Bruce Banner makes a decision!