San Francisco

Clint Barton sat at a small table in the bar of a Hyatt hotel, nursing his beer slowly. He looked at his watch and saw that the person he was meeting for drinks was running late. Clint supposed he shouldn’t be surprised. Whereas thanks to Zemo’s moonstones, Clint could transport almost anywhere instantaneously, his contact didn’t have the same luxury.

“Sorry to keep you waiting.” Clint looked up at the young blond man who took the seat across from him. “What are you drinking?”

“Dos Equis, what about you?” Clint signaled to the waitress and she came right over.

“I’ll have the same.” The waitress nodded and left. “What do you have for me, Barton?”

“First off, I want to get a few things straight, Watkins,” said Clint. “I agreed to help you and Strucker because Zemo’s been making some moves that are too big. But now I’m finding out things about our business partner that don’t sit well with me.”

John Watkins III nodded. “Understandable.” The waitress came over and set down a bottle of Dos Equis and a chilled mug. He smiled up at her as he poured the beer himself. “But Strucker has resources that the V-Battalion doesn’t.”

“Last I checked, the V-Battalion hunts Nazis, not shack up with them,” said Clint. “Bet the previous Citizen Vs are rolling in their graves at this.”

Watkins flinched at that statement. He had taken up the Citizen V identity to honor his ancestors and their mission. And to hear Hawkeye criticize him for his actions made him want to relieve the archer of his head. Instead, he settled for, “watch your mouth, Barton.”

“Struck a nerve, didn’t I?” asked Clint.

“The enemy of my enemy is my friend,” said Watkins. “You should know that, given that you were the one who opened the door to working with Strucker in the first place.”

“That was until I knew he was involved in something much bigger,” said Clint.

“And that would be?”

“That’s not part of the deal, Watkins. Fact is, I don’t know how much I can trust you with.”

“If not me, then who can you trust?”

“I don’t like double dealing on my friends,” said Clint. “Abe and Melissa are good people and no matter what happens, I expect them to get away clean, understood?”

“That’s an acceptable term,” said Watkins.

“Also, Chen Lu gets some slack as well.”

“The Radioactive Man? You must be joking.”

“Chen’s got his problems, but he’s honorable, he’s got the capacity to be one of the good guys,” said Clint.

“Anything else?” asked Watkins.

“Yeah, I can’t give you the location of the Castle,” said Clint. “Partly because it’s extra-dimensional and partly because Ebersol has automated surveillance running non-stop, scanning for any sort of foul play.”

“But you’re able to get out for us to have these meetings.”

“Zemo gives us a lot of leeway with our travels, fortunately. Especially me, since if I drop off the grid completely, it’s going to stir the curiosity of Tony Stark or Nick Fury, and he doesn’t want that.”

“We don’t need the location anyway,” said Watkins. “We have that aspect covered.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Quid pro quo, Barton—you don’t trust me, I don’t trust you.” Watkins took a sip of his beer. “Your job is to profile Zemo’s team and his plans. How many people does he have working for him?”

“Counting me, about fourteen.”

“We also know about the smash and grab your group pulled at the Raft, which has made a lot of people not very happy, to say the least.” Watkins raised the beer again, taking another drink and then focused intently on Clint. “So tell me about Nuke.”

MASTERS AND SLAVES

Part III

By Steve Seinberg and Dino Pollard

Castle Zemo

Baron Zemo stood before the assembled group, consisting of MACH-IV, Jack O’Lantern and Carnage. One of the agents he summoned still had not arrived and Zemo grew impatient until the door opened and Todd Arliss, the Tiger Shark entered, dripping wet.

“Enjoying a swim in the Black Lagoon, freak?” asked the Jack O’Lantern. Tiger Shark growled at him in response.

“Enough,” said Zemo. “Pay attention.” The monitor turned on and displayed a still image from Nuke’s final transmission, where the Eel, the Unicorn, the Wrecker, Speed Demon and the Wizard all stood over Nuke’s severed head.

“Strucker has been busy,” said Zemo. “He’s been recruiting former members of the Crimson Cowl’s recent Masters of Evil squad. Through Dr. Chen, we have learned of another of the Cowl’s Masters who, as of yet, has not been contacted by Strucker’s forces.”

A hologram appeared in the center of the round table, displaying an image of a man clad in green and orange armor, one whom Tiger Shark recognized instantly as someone he fought alongside while he was with the Masters.

“The Ringer,” said Tiger Shark.

Zemo nodded. “Keith Kraft. I want you to confront him. See how capable he is in combat. The Fixer has been able to determine his location.” Zemo gestured with his hand and a portal opened nearby. “Go.”

Cletus Kasady stood first, the symbiote flowing over his body and transforming him into Carnage. “’Bout time I got some action in this outfit.” Jack O’Lantern and Tiger Shark followed him without a word. But before MACH-IV could enter the portal, Zemo stopped him.

“Abe, a word.”

MACH-IV faced his leader, a curious look behind the faceplate of his armor.

“Keep an eye on Kasady,” said Zemo. “He’s a useful weapon, but also too stupid to be trusted. Should he try to turn on you, you have the capabilities in your armor to kill him.”

“Ebersol updated the suit with some enhanced sonic- and fire-based weapons,” said MACH-IV. “But why not send in Melissa as well? She’s much more reliable on the sonic front.”

“Because there’s another purpose to your mission,” said Zemo. “Now I want you to listen to me very carefully…”

The Ringer stood on a rooftop and smiled as he heard the sirens retreating into the distance. He had managed to give them the slip and there wasn’t a masked vigilante in sight. Reaching into his belt, he removed the uncut diamonds he stole, examining them in the moonlight.

“Perfect.”

Now that the Masters of Evil fell through, Kraft was off the gravy train he had been riding. No salary, no health care, no retirement plans, nothing. He needed money and going back into thieving seemed the best way to acquire it.

The Ringer found himself blinded by a bright light. He looked up and saw a glowing doorway made of energy and four individuals stepped through it. Instinctively, he stood upright, his suit beginning to generate his weapons.

“Hello, Kraft,” said MACH-IV.

The Ringer looked between the four men. “What’s this all about?”

“Your old buddy Chen Lu told us you might be Thunderbolts material,” said MACH-IV.

“Zemo, huh?” asked the Ringer. “What sort of deal is he offering?”

“A private room in Castle Zemo, and since it’s located between dimensions, you won’t have to worry about raids,” said MACH-IV. “Not to mention the same benefits you enjoyed under the Cowl plus a higher salary.”

“Sign me up, Jenkins,” said the Ringer, his suit powering down.

“Not that simple,” said MACH-IV. “I said Chen believes you’re T-Bolts material, but the Baron is skeptical. First, you need to pass the test.”

“What sort of te—”

The Ringer found his words cut off as Carnage lunged forward, his fingers elongating and narrowing into large blades. The Ringer was able to twist at the last moment to avoid any lethal damage, but the blades still drew blood.

“What sort of test do you think it is, moron?” asked the serial killer.

The Ringer aimed his gauntlet and fired a series of metal rings that flew around Carnage’s arms and instantly tightened. Carnage began to laugh at this. “You serious? The fuck is this gonna d—”

Carnage received his answer as the rings exploded all at once, setting him on fire. He screeched in pain as he tried to put the flames out. The Jack O’Lantern hovered on his glider and threw several flaming pumpkins at the Ringer.

Kraft dodged a few of them, but one of them got through and knocked him back to the ground. When he stood again, he saw MACH-IV hovering above him. The armored man took aim with his own gauntlets and the Ringer could hear a noise, but saw nothing and could feel nothing. MACH-IV then lowered his arm and backed off.

“What the hell…?”

Before the Ringer could figure out just what MACH-IV had done, Tiger Shark pounced on him, snarling as his claws sliced into the Ringer’s armor, piercing his skin. He continued to maul the villain until the Ringer was able to slip a ring over Tiger Shark’s neck, which tightened around it and began to strangle him.

The Ringer attempted to put some distance between him and his attackers, but MACH-IV was faster, rocketing into him and slamming him down onto the roof. He pulled away just as the Jack O’Lantern came back, teamed with Carnage, and as Jack O’Lantern assaulted the Ringer with razor bats, Carnage tore into his flesh.

MACH-IV used his enhanced strength to snap the ring that strangled Tiger Shark and he snarled as he moved to take his pound of flesh from his assailant. Instead, MACH-IV placed a hand on his shoulder, restraining him.

“No,” he said. “Our job’s done. Jack O’Lantern, Carnage, let’s go.”

The Jack O’Lantern backed off as soon as he heard the order, but Carnage was more difficult to restrain. MACH-IV sighed and something rose from his shoulder, a small antennae aimed at Carnage and a disc surrounded it. A burst of sonic energy fired forth and struck Carnage in the back.

“I said that’s enough.” MACH-IV stood over the symbiote. “The next time you make me repeat myself, it’ll be the last thing you do, understand?”

Carnage got up, resting on his knees, his head hanging. Like a dog who had just been scolded by its master. MACH-IV moved to the battered body of the Ringer, who was still alive, although barely.

“Looks like Chen was wrong about you,” he said as a portal opened nearby. “You’re no Thunderbolt. Just some pathetic never-was.”

The Thunderbolts entered the portal and returned to Castle Zemo where the Baron awaited their report. MACH-IV signaled to the others to leave and once they were gone, his helmet disengaged from the rest of the armor and he removed it, revealing the white face and brown hair beneath.

“It’s done,” he said.

“Good,” said Zemo. “Any problems?”

“Carnage wouldn’t follow orders so I hit him with the sonic blaster and then he stopped.”

Zemo nodded. “He’s learning.”

“Maybe. I still say it was a mistake to bring someone like him into this. Bullseye’s one thing, he’s loyal as long as he gets a paycheck. But Carnage is just psychotic.”

“Thank you for the report,” said Zemo. “Now, go relax. I have other matters to attend to.”

A few days later, Keith Kraft sat in his motel room, his wounds bandaged up, but his face swollen. He laid back on the bed, holding an ice pack to his face as he flipped through the stations on the motel’s shitty cable box.

A knock came at his door. “I’m paid up until the end of the week, so fuck off!” he spat. The lock on the door turned and Kraft sat up in bed as the door opened. “Are you deaf or something, you stupid prick? I said I’m paid up until the end of the we—”

Kraft paused as he saw who had opened the door. A man in purple armor entered. By his side was a slender man in a black, red and yellow costume complete with a red visor over his eyes.

“Chill out, Kraft,” said the Wizard. “We’re not here to evict you.”

“Nice shiner,” said the Speed Demon. “You run into Moon Knight’s fist or something?”

“Very fucking funny,” said the Ringer. “The hell do you two want?”

“Got a proposition for you,” said the Wizard. “You see you, just like Jimmy here, joined the Crimson Cowl’s Masters of Evil for a time, right?”

“What of it?” asked the Ringer.

“Didn’t it ever make you wonder how Zemo and his Thunderbolts knew every place we struck?” asked Speed Demon.

“It does now,” said the Ringer.

“Moonstone was posing as the Cowl, her and Zemo duped us as part of Zemo’s big plan to try and take over the world,” said Speed Demon. “Then came that weird reality shift and things are kind of a blur. But now the Masters are gone, so is Moonstone and Zemo’s building an army.”

“How do you know all this?” asked the Ringer.

Speed Demon jerked his thumb at the Wizard and Bentley Wittman smiled. “I represent someone who’s interested in giving you the chance to get revenge.”

“And who would that be?”

“Wolfgang Von Strucker,” said the Wizard. The Ringer’s ears perked up and the Wizard grinned. “Interested now?”

“Very,” said the Ringer.

“One question, though,” said the Wizard. “Have you had any contact with any of Zemo’s people?”

The Ringer paused before he answered, not wanting to admit to the beating he suffered at the hands of the Thunderbolts just a few days ago. “No, they haven’t approached me at all.”

“Too bad, might’ve helped us know a bit more about them,” said the Wizard. “Anyway, welcome to the team.”

Castle Zemo

“…welcome to the team.”

Zemo smiled beneath his mask as he watched the broadcast on the monitor. He turned to face the rest of what had become his inner circle—the Fixer, Radioactive Man, the Swordsman and the Abomination. “Nice work as always, Fixer.”

“I updated the surveillance tech we put in Nuke and added it to the other enhancements on Abe’s armor,” said the Fixer. “He shot the Ringer with it and the dumb bastard never even knew what hit him. Beauty of it is Kraft’s our little poison pill and he doesn’t even know it, so there’s no way Strucker’s crew will suspect him, especially after they approached him.”

“How do you feel about this?” asked the Abomination, turning to the Radioactive Man. “You worked with him.”

“He was an associate, nothing more,” said the Radioactive Man. “If Kraft is stupid enough to be used, then that’s his problem.”

“We needed someone inside my father’s operation,” said the Swordsman. “The Ringer is the safest choice. No harm will come to him, I promise you that.”

“How long will this last?” asked the Abomination.

“Not long,” said the Fixer. “Wittman may be a pest, but he’s not an idiot. Sooner or later, he’ll run an upgraded sweep and figure out what’s going on. But until then, we’ve got fresh intel.”

“Is it traceable?” asked the Abomination.

“Not back here, but it won’t take Strucker too much effort to figure out who’s behind it,” said the Fixer. “Hell, he may even kill Kraft, thinking the dumb bastard was in on it.”