Chicago

Perhaps the most ethnically-diverse city in the midwest and one of the most diverse in the country, Chicago was quickly targetted by the Red Skull’s extermination squads. Pterorists, human/insect hybrids created by the Red Skull’s genetic tinkering. Clad in emerald carapaces with clawed fingers, fluttering wings, and the only facial characteristic a red emblem signifying their allegiance to their unholy master.

The inhuman sounds they make as they cut through the air are sounds known well, sounds the populace have come to fear. For if the Pterorists have found you, your life is at an end. These are not soldiers who round up dissidents or those of inferior birth. There is no capture by the Pterorists, they are bred for only one purpose–death.

The full moon becomes obscured as a wave of them come, a symphony of “SKIIIIIIIRK! SKIIIIIIIIIRK! SKIIIIIIIIRK!” signalling their arrival and sending chills down the bones of the people. The Pterorists circle and arch downward, diving towards the streets. They fly at street-level, their claws mercilessly tearing through human flesh. Like a plague of locusts they arrive, spreading death in their wake.

People scatter, crying out to the heavens for some form of help. Is there no one who will come to their aid? No one who will protect them from these death squads? The Pterorists are relentless, spilling blood and rendering humans limb from limb. Of all walks of life–rich and poor, white and colored, Christian and Jew. None are spared from the onslaught.

It is the Red Skull’s way of keeping fear alive in the people. They never accliminate to their new lives. No one knows when the Red Skull will order a culling. To thin out the herd, a form of population control is what he says. The few must be eliminated in order for the many to survive on the country’s limited resources.

In the darkened streets, a bright, yellow light explodes. A large tear in space and time appears and eight individuals emerge from the portal. A woman hovers at the fore of the group and smiles once she sees the Pterorists. “You can tell the Skull that Chicago is now off-limits.”

“SKIIIIIIRK! SKIIIIIIRK!”

“If that’s the way you feel this must go down…” said Karla Sofen with a smile. “Thunderbolts, let’s show mein fuhrer how we deal with insects.”

Songbird and MACH-IV were the first to engage the Pterorists. Melissa generated long blades over each hand constructed from solid sonic energy and used them to tear through the creatures as they tore through the flesh of the people. MACH-IV instead relied on the energy blasts generated by his armor.

The Fixer hovered in the air thanks to the anti-gravity discs afficted to the soles of his feet. His Tech-Pac included four telescoping arms, each one with a gun attached to the end and with the Fixer holding a gun in each of his actual hands. He fired with the same wild abandon that the Pterorists used to cut down. The bullets were explosive rounds, capable of bursting through the thick carapaces that would block the average bullet.

The Swordsman was a relatively new addition to this band. Andreas von Strucker, armed with the same blades as the original Swordsman used. He dodged Pterorists swipes, cutting into them with his swords. When he found one out of reach, he slammed the metal together, generating heat rays to eliminate them from a distance.

Also utilizing heat to his benefit was the Radioactive Man, the second addition to the Thunderbolts. Pterorists that came too close to him experienced firsthand the indescribable heat his body was capable of producing while ones further off experienced it via the radioactive blasts he fired at them. To provide a contrast to the Radioactive Man was the third addition–Donnie Gill, a common criminal who wore a special suit that granted him the ability to generate extremely cold temperatures as Blizzard. His cold rays rentered Pterorists extremely brittle, to the point that they crumbled at the slightest touch.

The fourth and final addition, however, was doubtlessly the strongest, and perhaps most unstable, of the group. Emil Blonsky, a former Russian spy who exposed himself to intense levels of gamma radiation that transformed him into an amphibian-like creature called the Abomination. A being with strength that could rival the Incredible Hulk, the Abomination relished in his nature, his massive fists crushing the Pterorists in his grasp with ease. With each strike, the bright green mucous that the Pterorists left behind brought a smile to his hideous visage.

Moonstone’s power, however, exceeded the rest of the Thunderbolts put together. Armed with her two alien artifacts, she possessed a multitude of abilities, among them the ability to create miniature black holes, which she generated in the center of the Pterorists. They quickly found themselves sucked into the void, and a few were left behind. The Abomination grabbed one of them and held it up to his leader.

“I know you disgusting creatures have cameras that transmit the footage of your massacre back to the Red House,” she said. “So here’s a message for your master–the Thunderbolts and the Masters of Evil have joined forces. We have squads mobilized all over the planet and with my moonstones, I can keep them out of his reach. The Skull crosses us at his own peril.”

She nodded to Blonsky and he squeezed, crushing the Pterorist. Moonstone opened a massive portal, transporting the people still alive to the Morlock Tunnels in New York City. The Avengers and X-Corps would help them now, she had done her part. It was time for the Thunderbolts to return to Stormfront-1 and plan their next move.

A Fourth Reich Tie-In

VILLAINS IN WHITE HATS

By Dino Pollard

Welcome to the United States of America.

Or what’s left of it.

Zemo had a plan to subert the world to his control, by capturing men and women with powerful psionic abilities and using them with behavior modification technology in order to convince the United Nations to cede control to him. It was a good plan and it worked magnificently, with every nation in the world giving in to Zemo’s demands, save for America.

The American President remained extremely stubborn regarding the matter. Refused to give in to Helmut. And when Zemo confronted him, he found an unfortunate surprise waiting for him. The President had been killed and replaced in secret, and what this imposter had in mind was the one contingency not even Zemo saw coming.

It was Johann Schmidt, the Red Skull. Armed with a Cosmic Cube and the desire to create a Fourth Reich. He warped the world to his desires, changing the view of history so the Allies lost the Second World War in the history books. The majority of the populace is unaware of the change. However, there are those of us who, for a variety of reasons, have our memories unaffected by the Skull’s Cosmic Cube.

I’m one of those few. My name is Dr. Karla Sofen, I’m a clinical psychiatrist of some note. I also possess two powerful gems called moonstones, which I derive my second name from. The moonstones seem to have left me outside the influence of the Cosmic Cube and I have a few others with me as well.

Norbert Ebersol. The Fixer. A man of incredible intellect and technological knowledge but of very petty interests, motivations, and goals. He mostly serves as Zemo’s loyal lapdog.

Melissa Gold and Abe Jenkins. Songbird and MACH-IV. Formerly Screaming Mimi and the Beetle. Their powers and equipment were enhanced by the Fixer during Zemo’s scheme to take over the world by posing as heroes. Both of them found they enjoyed the life and now serve as a continued source of agitation.

Dr. Chen Lu. The Radioactive Man. A brilliant physiscist who bathed himself in radiation in order to become a nuclear powerhouse. One of the recent recruits of the Masters of Evil. With him is Donnie Gill, Blizzard. Also one of the recent recruits and a combination of the worst qualities of both the Fixer and MACH-IV.

Andreas von Strucker. The Swordsman. Son of Baron Wolfgang von Strucker and a wildcard just recently added to the deck. I’m keeping a close eye on him, needless to say.

And finally, Emil Blonsky. The Abomination. Like the Swordsman, another wildcard, but one who serves a useful purpose for now. But we may reach the point where I find he isn’t worth the trouble.

Together, the eight of us comprise the Thunderbolts. While Tony Stark and his Avengers are busy shuttling refugees off to Genosha or Wakanda, we have plans of our own. Zemo came closer to the Skull than anyone else we know of and he may possess valuable information which we’ll need to defeat Schmidt.

The Red Skull had conquered the world. And for the Thunderbolts, that’s a right reserved for us.

“Did you really think that message was smart?” asked MACH-IV. “There’s just eight of us, we don’t have any squads.”

“Psychological warfare, Mr. Jenkins,” I said. “It keeps the Skull on the defensive and allows us a bit more freedom. My moonstones keep Stormfront-1 between space and time and not even the Cosmic Cube can track us.”

“I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” said the Fixer. “We don’t know the extent of the Cube’s power. Or the extent of the Skull’s influence. It makes a person’s desires into reality, so if he desires us, he might be able to find us.”

“That’s a chance we have to take,” I told Ebersol.

“And what if he decides Zemo is too dangerous to stay alive and kills him?” asked the Fixer.

“Not likely. The Skull and Zemo are a lot alike in many ways. Just as Zemo’s conceit has ultimately been his greatest flaw, so it goes for the Skull,” I said. “He won’t kill Zemo. Not yet.”

“You seem awfully confident,” said the Fixer.

“I know the type.”

There came a low rumbling from the room that slowly evolved into a cackle. I and my teammates looked to perhaps the most unstable member of this little group–the Abomination.

“Anything you choose to add, Emil?” I asked.

“I have just been wondering how I ended up throwing in with such a motley crew,” said the Abomination. “Do you truly believe you can stand up to the Skull’s power? You talk of the conceit he and Zemo possess to be their undoing. As I recall, hasn’t that been your undoing as well, Dr. Sofen? What guarantee do you offer and why should I remain under your charge?”

Bastard. I had a feeling something like this would happen. The smart move would have been to simply teleport Blonsky somewhere else, perhaps suck him into a black hole. But without Atlas, our group lacked a strongman. And there are few hitters heavier than the Abomination. Abe and Melissa are easily manipulated, with our history they may even foolishly think of themselves as my friends. Gill is of a weak mind and an even weaker will, so he poses no threat. After his time in the Masters of Evil, I detected a bit of an altruistic streak in Chen Lu. Strucker is motivated more by his hatred of his father and anyone who associates with him.

But Blonsky… he’s the biggest x-factor.

“You make a very good point, Emil,” I said. “But what other choice do you have? The Skull strives for purity and your countrymen were among his biggest enemies during the Second World War.”

“You think the Skull would dare confront me? Little girl, I have gone up against the likes of the Hulk. What is the Skull but a tired, old fascist with tired, old ideas?”

“Your assessment of the Skull is correct, except he’s a tired, old fascist with the power of a god,” I said. “He could reduce you to a toad if he so desired. And I could give you something in return for your assistance.”

He arched his massive brow. “And what could you offer one such as me?”

I’ve studied Blonsky. I’ve studied all those who were associated with the latest incarnation of the Masters. I know his desires, his motivations. “Once we take this world for ours, you’ll have Russia. You’ll have your wife.”

“My wife? Feh,” said the Abomination. “Like this, I would tear her apart if I touched her.”

“What if I also gave you the power to revert to your human form at will?” I asked.

“Your power isn’t that great.”

“It can be,” I said. “Once I take the Cube as my prize.”

Blonsky paused. I could tell he was considering my offer. He was definitely intrigued. Now I just needed him to take the bait and then he would be mine completely, to manipulate as I wish.

“You win, Doctor,” he said. “But only because it amuses me.”

I smiled. Like with any fish, you just need the proper bait and Blonsky took it. Hook, line and sinker.

“With that out of the way, perhaps we can address the matter at hand?” asked the Radioactive Man. “How will we find Zemo?”

“I have the means,” I said.

“What means?” asked Songbird.

“I knew something was about to happen and I knew Zemo would be needed, so I left him with a moonstone,” I said.

“How? You still have both of yours,” said the Radioactive Man.

“I didn’t say one of mine, I said a moonstone, do try to keep up, dear,” I said. “John Jameson, the Man-Wolf. He is also powered by a moonstone. I stole it from him during the fray and implanted it within Zemo. The poor fool doesn’t even realize he has it. And I can track him. It will just take some time.”

“How much time?” asked the Swordsman.

“Depends on a number of factors,” I said. “I need to work in silence to find it. I will contact the rest of you once I’ve located him.”

I rose into the air and vanished into a portal.

“What are we doing here?” asked Melissa. “I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but Karla’s insane.”

Her and Abe sat perched on the shores of Stormfront-1. A section of the North Sea was transported with them and the waters lay eerily still on the rocks, no breeze or air following them in the large void. Abe’s helmet was off, held at his side.

“Of course I’ve noticed,” said Abe. “But Karla’s speech to Blonsky was directed at the rest of us as well. Without her, we’d be on the run, maybe even turned into Nazis by the Skull.”

“We should go, find the Avengers,” said Melissa. “If we do that, we have a fighting chance at least.”

“And leave Karla in charge of an unstable but powerful group of villains?” asked Abe. “Uh-uh, too risky. Like it or not, Mel, we’re stuck. If for no other reason than to keep her in check. If something goes wrong, we’ll be the world’s only line of defense against the Thunderbolts.”

“And once we have Zemo back…

Abe gave his former flame a cursory glance. “Do you really trust him?”

“You weren’t with him these past few months, Abe,” said Melissa. “Zemo may have twisted motivations, but I believe he really wants to make the world a better place for everyone. Karla on the other hand, she’s only interested in making the world a better place for her and to hell with everyone else.”

“And what makes you think Zemo’s not playing everyone?” asked Abe. “The humanitarian missions, all of that, it could just be a ploy. Like the Thunderbolts originally were.”

“He went through a lot on Counter-Earth,” said Melissa. “Abe, you have to trust my judgment. If not mine, then trust Hawkeye’s. He willingly turned the team over to Zemo. If he believes in Zemo, that’s enough for me.”

“I wonder how much he does…” said Abe. “And I wish he were here now. Him, Erik, Hallie, Charlie… all of us together could do a lot of good.”

“Those days are over.”

Abe sighed with regret. “I know.” He looked at her. “Do you ever wish it never happened? The Thunderbolts? Things seemed so much simpler when we were on the wrong side of the law. No tough decisions, everything was black and white. Now we’ve spent so much time living in this world of grays, straddling the fence, going through betrayal after betrayal, often by the same people.”

Melissa shook her head. “Things just seemed simple. But they weren’t. Hawkeye warned us that redemption wasn’t going to be easy.”

“I just don’t know who to trust anymore…”

Melissa laid a hand on his shoulder. “You can trust me.”

Abe turned and looked at her. Their eyes met and they both felt a longing for what they once had. Melissa leaned in, closing her eyes, her lips coming closer to his.

“Can I?”

She stopped abruptly and pulled away, but she kept her gaze on him. Neither knew what to say next so they both turned their heads away. And then, perhaps at the most inopportune moment (or perhaps vice versa), Moonstone appeared to them in a flash of light.

“Karla,” said Abe.

“I’ve found him,” said Moonstone.

The Thunderbolts emerged from a portal in an old factory. Abandoned, not even being used as a labor camp, which they found interesting. And hanging before them, bound in chains, was their goal.

“Zemo!” shouted Songbird.

Helmut Zemo, the thirteenth man to bear the title of Baron in his family. He hung naked from the chains, his badly-burned face on full display. It was a sight that took Melissa aback. On Counter-Earth, Zemo had taken over the body of his counterpart, completely unflawed. Was this the work of the Skull?

“Don’t…” said Zemo. “It’s a trap.”

The lights on the factory suddenly blazed awake. A group of young men and women stood behind Zemo, each of them clad in the black leather and red piping of the Skull’s army, complete with his insignia on their shoulders–a swastika with a blood red skull in the center. There were five of them in total.

“Now, my young ones…”

This voice was new and came from the rafters. The accent was unmistakably German. The man who spoke wore a Nazi uniform from World War II and his medals indicated a man of high ranking. But his visage, his visage is what shocked the Thunderbolts the most.

“It can’t be…” said the Fixer.

But it was. The Baron’s predecessor.

Baron Heinrich Zemo.

To be continued in the New Warriors 2008 Annual!