The armored fist struck the Ringer’s face, and if not for the headgear he wore, his jaw would have torn free. The Crimson Dynamo pulled back and struck again, the Ringer’s head violently rocking from right to left this time. The armored man grabbed the Ringer by the shoulder and delivered another powerful blow against his chest and even through his own armor, Keith Kraft felt some of his ribs crack.

“Thank you, Dynamo,” said Baron Wolfgang Von Strucker as he stepped forward. He was dressed in a forest green suit with a pale yellow shirt and the pin on his black tie resembled a gold creature with tentacles—the symbol of Hydra. With the monocle over one eye and the poise and style of a man befitting his title, Strucker looked as if he could fit in in the most exclusive circles of the world—with the exception, of course, of the gleaming red metal attachment that served as his hand—the Satan Claw.

He used that claw as he knelt down before the Ringer, raising Kraft’s face up to stare into his eyes. “Mr. Kraft, you have disappointed me. Despite your rather…shall we say, uninspiring life, I gave you an opportunity to prove yourself among my ranks. And instead of accepting this extremely gracious offer…” He pulled the Claw away and raked it across the Ringer’s exposed face. “…you spit in my face!”

Strucker stood, once more clasping his hands behind his back. “You betrayed me. Performing surveillance for that cur, Zemo.”

The Ringer looked up in anger at Strucker. “I…I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about. I’ve done every thing you asked! Even brought your message to Graviton because you were too chicken-shit to do it yourself!”

Strucker’s head flipped around, his mouth twisted in a snarl. “Would you care to repeat that, Mr. Kraft?”

“You heard me,” said the Ringer. He extended his hand, prepared to utilize his armor’s special rings to take out Strucker. Briefly, he thought about the consequences of that—the Ringer would be forever known as the man who killed Baron Strucker, a man who even the Red Skull would think twice about crossing.

But instead, he found his armor failed to respond. “What? The hell is going on, not now!”

“Sorry about that, Keith—my fault,” said the Wizard. He stood with his arms folded, leaning against the wall and a sly grin on his face. “You see, I hacked your armor’s rather rudimentary systems. Not even the slightest security measure, really. You should be embarrassed. My four-year-old nephew has more advanced technology in his Speak-And-Spell.”

“What did you do to my armor?” asked the Ringer.

“My…you mean you still haven’t figured it out?” asked the Wizard. “I shut it down. Those little hula-hoops you throw around? Yeah, they won’t work anymore.”

“So as I understand it, this peasant thought he could kill a Strucker?” asked the Baron.

“That’s what it seems like, sir,” said the Crimson Dynamo.

“Interesting, very interesting in fact. It seems to me that Mr. Kraft’s head hasn’t done him much good. It has led him into countless pathetic schemes which ended with him beaten and imprisoned and now, it caused him to forget his place in this world.” Strucker turned away from the Ringer. “Please relieve him of it, Dynamo.”

“Wait, what?” shouted the Ringer. “No, you can’t! No—ARGH!!”

SCHRIIIIP

Strucker walked towards the exit and stopped by the Wizard, who struggled to keep his lunch down at the sight he just witnessed. “Mr. Wittman, call maintenance and see to it that this mess is cleaned up and the trash properly disposed of. Also, please disable the surveillance devices implanted in the late Kraft’s armor.”

At that, the image became scrambled and static appeared on the monitors located inside Castle Zemo. The Fixer shook his head. “Well fuck me.”

“They knew,” said Baron Zemo. “Someone told Strucker about the Ringer’s bug.”

“Obviously didn’t tell him all the details,” said the Fixer. “Seems like they thought the Ringer was in on the whole thing.”

“Insignificant details, Norbert,” said Zemo. “We now have no one inside Strucker’s organization. Now we are sufficiently flying blind.”

“What do we do now?” asked the Radioactive Man.

Zemo turned and looked over the men seated before him—the Fixer, the Radioactive Man, and the Abomination. “I want all of you to keep a very close eye on our ranks. We have a leak and I want it plugged immediately.”

MASTERS AND SLAVES

Part VI

By Steve Seinberg and Dino Pollard

Before he underwent genetic experiments to repair his damaged spine, Todd Arliss had been an Olympic swimmer. Ever since he was a child, he had a love of the water, something that had only increased since his transformation into a human/shark hybrid.

As he dived beneath the waves, he caught sight of a flash in the corner of his eye. The Tiger Shark paused in the see, searching around and he could hear something as well. Something calling out to him. He swam to the surface, his head breaking through the waves and on a small island nearby, he saw the two individuals he had met with before.

Arliss went to shore and slowly stepped onto the sand, looking at the two individuals. One was composed entirely of light, the other of sound. Klaw stepped forward first and initiated the discussion. “We have news.”

“Oh?” asked Tiger Shark.

“The Crimson Cowl is back—the real one that is—and she’s bringing together the Masters of Evil,” said Klaw.

“You mentioned that she had been in contact last time,” said Tiger Shark. “How did she escape?”

“Not important,” said the Living Laser. “What is important is that she wants you onboard as one of her lieutenants.”

“Why?” asked Tiger Shark.

“You’ve been loyal in the past, and Justine Hammer rewards loyalty,” said Klaw.

“Think about it, you’ll have respect you don’t get from Zemo’s crew,” said the Living Laser. “Bet they think of you more as a pet than a teammate. Hell, I’ll bet half of them don’t even think you can speak.”

The Tiger Shark growled but Klaw held his hand up. “Easy, Todd, Arthur here is just saying what you’ve been thinking. We’re trying to help you here. Help you recover your dignity.”

Arliss looked at the two of them then turned his back. “I’ll think about it.” And with that, he dove back beneath the waves.

“The information provided by Octavius is sound,” said Strucker, watching his Control liaison on the monitor screen. “We have locked onto Zemo’s location and Wittman is now finishing the adjustments to the teleportation equipment.”

“Good. And your men are ready?”

“Yes, Watkins has been training with them, preparing battle strategies. Zemo won’t know what hit him,” said Strucker. “Should we spare any of the Thunderbolts?”

“No, kill them all.”

“What about Octavius?”

“If he can’t survive on his own, then he’s of no use to us. Besides, if he does die, then we don’t have to pay his fees.”

“Very well,” said Strucker. He heard a buzzer and looked at an adjacent monitor, showing Citizen V standing outside his door. “I believe we are ready to proceed. I will contact you later with the results.”

Strucker broke the connection and stood from the console, opening the door leading from his office into the hallway. Citizen V stared at him through the blank, white mask he wore to conceal his face.

“The troops are ready, but there’s something we need to discuss first,” he said.

“Which is?” asked Strucker, moving from the door with Citizen V following.

“Hawkeye,” said Citizen V. “We need to get him a message, let him know what’s going to happen so he has a chance to get out.”

“Barton’s demise would be…tragic,” said Strucker. “Unfortunately, there just isn’t time to send word. At least not without alerting Ebersol and blowing our own cover.”

“He’s part of this, he gave us valuable information about Zemo’s organization,” said Citizen V.

“And I’m indebted to him for that. But we must be practical,” said Strucker. “Besides, if the archer is anything like his reputation says, he should be able to survive without any trouble.”

“And if he’s not?”

Strucker smiled while his back was to Watkins. “Then I suppose his reputation preceded him.” The smile was gone when he faced Citizen V once more. “I’m just grateful nothing was said in front of the Ringer to alert Zemo. Thankfully, we still have the element of surprise on our hands.”

One of the Hydra agents moved away from the assemblage. He reached inside his pocket and pulled out a transmission device. Quickly, he entered a text message and sent it off to his true master—Andreas Von Strucker.

Castle Zemo

The door to Donnie Gill’s room opened and he looked up at the Swordsman, who entered in full costume. “If you’re here to congratulate or berate me for Levins, save your breath. I keep getting the evil eye from Melissa and Barton. And Bullseye’s been winking at me so much, I’m starting to think he’s either going to slit my throat or ask me out to dinner—and I’m not sure which one scares me more.”

“I have a gift for you, Donald,” said Andreas, drawing the neuroin dispenser from his belt. He tossed it to him and Donnie caught it, his face lighting up just like a small child on Christmas morning.

“You are the fucking man!” shouted Donnie. “Goddamn, I don’t know how you kept getting this! The Fixer told me he was tapped, said he was cutting me off. So how…?”

“I have my secrets, Donald,” said Andreas as he removed his helmet and gave the young man a friendly smile. “But one thing I can promise you—I always remember my friends. And I’ve been a good friend to you, haven’t I?”

“Shit man, aside from Chen you’re probably the only guy around here who doesn’t treat me like a loser.”

“Then I hope I can count on your friendship in return,” said Andreas. “I’ve looked out for you, Donald. Now I’m asking you to do the same. Can you do that?”

Donnie held up the neuroin dispenser. “Brother, you keep me in this stuff, I’ll do whatever you ask.”

And the Swordsman smiled.

Baron Strucker stepped out onto the catwalk with Citizen V by his side. The leader of Hydra placed his hands on the guardrail and looked out with appreciation at the gathered men in the hangar below him. The Wrecking Crew, the Wizard, the Crimson Dynamo, Graviton, the Rhino, Man-Ape, the Eel, Unicorn and Speed Demon. A gathering of several of the most vicious men he had ever laid eyes on, complete with a few dozen Hydra agents clad in green and yellow armor and armed with high-powered rifles.

“You have all been instructed as to your roles in this mission,” began Strucker. “Some of you are designated as a distraction, a smokescreen to detain the Thunderbolts while the stealth team performs their end of the job. Before I send you off, once more I would like to go over the men and women Zemo has assembled.”

The Wizard brought up a projection of each of the Thunderbolts, the relevant one expanding to a larger size as Strucker gave his briefing. “These are the Thunderbolts. Some of them, such as Jack O’Lantern and Blizzard, should pose no threat to you. Others are not to be underestimated, such as Bullseye and Lady Mastermind. These two in particular are masters of guerilla tactics and must be swiftly eliminated. You have spent some time training under the guidance of Citizen V, you are aware of this team’s strengths and weaknesses. So remember those sessions, remember their capabilities, and do not get overconfident.

“But there is one thing I want to be made clear—there are to be no survivors. Do we understand that?”

Bloodthirsty jeers in the affirmative roared from the crowd and Strucker looked up at Citizen V with a smile. John Watkins was thankful the mask properly hid his disgust and contempt for the situation.

Castle Zemo

Dr. Octopus entered Zemo’s quarters, where he had been in conference with the Abomination. Octavius cleared his throat as soon as he entered and the two men looked up at him.

“Pardon the interruption, Baron, but I have an urgent matter to discuss,” he said.

“Of course, Doctor.” Zemo looked at the Abomination. “Emil, we shall continue our discussion later.”

The Abomination stood from the oversized chair and moved towards the door. He nodded to Octavius before leaving. One of the scientist’s metal arms closed the door behind the behemoth.

“What troubles you, Otto?”

“Strucker’s forces are preparing to storm the castle,” said Dr. Octopus.

Zemo crossed his legs and turned his chair, his fingertips lightly touching. “The Fixer assured me that it would take years of scanning the various interdimensional frequencies before we could be located.”

“That’s correct, unless Strucker knew where to look.”

“And how would he know that?” asked Zemo.

“Because I told him.”

At that revelation, many in Zemo’s position would have lashed out in anger and killed Octavius on the spot. But the Baron didn’t even flinch, showed zero emotion—not anger, not disappointment, not even betrayal or surprise.

“Then why warn me at all?” asked Zemo.

“Strucker had leverage on me.”

“Leverage?”

“Yes.”

“And what would this leverage be?”

“I’d rather not say,” said Dr. Octopus. “But I want to stop them, not only for my own preservation, but also so that the fight can be brought to Strucker’s doorstep. So we can kill him and I can be free.”

Zemo and Octavius locked eyes from behind their respective screens—for Zemo, the opaque lenses on the purple face mask and for Octavius, the dark sunglasses he wore for himself.

“I believe you are telling the truth, Doctor,” said Zemo. “Or at least, about the invasion. How long do we have to prepare?”

Octavius smiled. “Oh, I’d say ten, maybe fifteen minutes at the most.”