“I’m disappointed in you, Baron.”

Helmut Zemo looked up from his steak. Sitting across from him at the restaurant table was the man Zemo only knew as Mister E. Although neither of them was in a form familiar to the other. With the aid of the moonstones he possessed, Zemo was able to manipulate the light around his scarred face. And so he appeared as a young white man with blond hair.

Mister E wore a face of Eastern European features, with slicked-back dark hair and a goatee. Zemo had no idea if this was a disguise or Mister E’s true face—the mysterious informant usually appeared to him in shadows. The only indication Zemo had that this was the same man was the voice he spoke with and the red eyes he possessed.

“And why are you disappointed?” asked Zemo. As something of a habit, whenever he was out in public and not clad in his familiar purple mask, he suppressed his German accent with a more nondescript, midwestern American one.

Mister E drew a cigarette from a gold-plated case. “You expanded quite a lot of your energy and resources to apprehending Cassandra Romulus.” He lit the cigarette with a matching gold lighter and snapped the lid as he said, “That was sloppy.”

“She had information on Hydra, information that could have proven useful to our cause,” said Baron Zemo.

“Oh please, don’t make me laugh. Romulus was highly intelligent but any knowledge she had of Hydra would most-likely be outdated. Need I remind you she was imprisoned for a number of years?” Mister E puffed on the end of the cigarette. “You were essentially chasing a well-informed shut-in. This accomplished nothing in the war against Control.”

Zemo calmly took a bite of his steak and washed it down with the glass of red wine. “Then perhaps you could give me some more information which might be useful to the cause.”

“I’ll give you the information when I believe you’re ready,” said Mister E. “This isn’t about me, Helmut. This is about you. Andreas Von Strucker did a lot of damage to your pride when he took over Hydra. You thought you had him under your thumb, but he was playing you from Day One. The Romulus affair was all about striking back at him. I need to know I’ve bet on the right horse—I need to know your priorities are in the right place.”

“I guarantee you, they are,” said Zemo. “My Thunderbolts are prepared to embark on a few recruiting missions. One of which will not only strike at one of Justin Hammer’s operations, but also potentially poach a valued operative from his ranks.”

Mister E said nothing, just quietly smoked the cigarette. Unlike Zemo, he ordered no food. Zemo wondered if it was because the mystery man wasn’t hungry or that he simply had no need for that form of sustenance.

“Does that meet your standards?” asked Zemo.

“Control is…displeased with Hammer,” said Mister E. “With the death of Strucker and the ascension of his son to the throne, Control has lost a valuable ally. And many of Hydra’s valuable resources. They’re in a state of disarray at the moment. And Control views that as a miscalculation on Hammer’s part.”

“Then I take it my plan is sound?”

Mister E stamped out the cigarette in the ashtray. “That remains to be seen, Baron.” He stood from the chair. “I trust that our next meeting will be happier and will include a far more robust progress report.”

“I’m certain it will,” said Zemo, his blue eyes fixing an icy stare. Mister E simply grinned and left the restaurant.

LUNAR FLARE

By Steve Seinberg and Dino Pollard

Mount Charteris

Although the former base of the Thunderbolts had been extremely damaged by previous battles, its current occupant had managed to carve out a suitable portion for living accommodations. This occupant was none other than its most recent destructor—Franklin Hall, the man called Graviton.

He approached the high-tech equipment which kept the comatose Karla Sofen alive. It was built by the Fixer in order to keep her fed, healthy and clean while she remained in her coma. His primary purpose for joining Baron Strucker’s foolish attack on Castle Zemo was so he could claim the only prize he desired—Karla herself. With the aid of a gravimetric bubble, he stole away with not only Karla but the equipment that kept her alive.

Graviton sat on the edge of her bed, taking her limp hand in his own and gently stroking it. “I’ve begun to lose hope, Karla. I’ve tried music, voices from your past—including Zemo’s in hopes that your anger for him would wake you. Smelling salts, even low-level electric charges. But nothing seems to snap you out of this.”

He brought her hand up to his face and stroked his cheek with it. “Your company has been bittersweet. I want you here with me, but I want it to be of your own will.”

Gently, he kissed the back of her hand. “There is one thing I can still try, my love. But I’m afraid its success may mean you’ll leave me and I’ll lose what little of you I’ve gained.”

Graviton looked off to something nearby, which provided a dim glow in the otherwise darkened chamber. It was a smooth gem, pulsing with golden energy. The only thing he believed would bring Karla Sofen back.

One of the moonstones.

Castle Zemo

P. Norbert Ebersol reclined in the leather chair set up before a bank of flat-screen monitors. He drank from a can of Miller High Life as the computer ran a search for an individual Zemo was very interested in.

A warning indicator went off. The Fixer stared at the monitor that showed the problem and grumbled. “This again?”

He set down the can and turned to the ergonomic keyboard, entering in a series of commands. “Just who the hell are you…?” The Fixer made some adjustments to the system and sent out some covert queries, moving around through alternate servers to try and pinpoint the source. Whoever was trying to crack his system was very good.

But, as his hoot of success indicated, the Fixer was better.

“Gotcha, you snooping bastard!”

One of the many printers in the Fixer’s private computer lab sounded off, producing a record of the incident. Ebersol finished the rest of his beer just in time for the report to finish. He took the documents and left the room, being sure to seal it up so no one could access it while he was gone.

His first stop was Zemo’s office, but there was no sign of the Thunderbolts’ leader in there. He went to the Baron’s private quarters next—again, nothing. As he walked through the castle, he saw a few of the other Thunderbolts sitting in one of the common rooms.

Leonard Lester—Bullseye—and Steven Levins—Jack O’Lantern—sat at a table playing a game of poker, although out of costume. Sitting on the couch nearby was Cletus Kasady, who for once wasn’t encased in the alien symbiote that made him Carnage. Instead he was reading a book.

Bullseye puffed on the end of a cigar and shuffled the deck with practiced speed. He tossed two cards to Jack O’Lantern and two to himself. Levins dropped a few chips into the center of the table after checking his cards.

“Fifty.”

Bullseye checked his own cards and tossed in a few of his own chips. “Double it.”

Ebersol cleared his throat, yet not one of the three men even tossed a glance at him. The card game continued uninterrupted with Kasady focused on his book. Ebersol rolled his eyes and cleared his throat even more obnoxiously.

Bullseye casually looked over his shoulder, exhaling the smoke from his nostrils. “Do you mind? We’re tryin’ to play a game here.”

“Any of you seen the Baron?” asked Ebersol.

“What’s wrong, Ebersol? Missing His Master’s voice?” asked Levins with a chuckle. He took a swig from his bottle of Samuel Adams. Bullseye’s chuckle indicated his approval of the wisecrack.

“This coming from a goose-stepping puppet,” said Ebersol.

“Relax, Norbie,” said Bullseye. “No, we haven’t seen Zemo.”

“Yeah well maybe you should try doing something productive instead of sitting on your asses getting drunk,” said Ebersol.

“Gimme somethin’ to kill and I’d be happy to,” Kasady chimed in from the couch. Ebersol moved over to the couch to get a look at what Kasady was reading. It was a book on human anatomy and the serial killer was chuckling as he looked through the pages. “Oh yeah, that’d make a beautiful lampshade…”

“How about you freaks try training if you’ve got nothing better to do?” asked Ebersol.

“Raise.” Bullseye tossed in a few more chips into the pot. “Once you’ve reached perfection, practice is kind’ve redundant.”

“Call.” Levins laid down his cards. “Whaddaya got?”

Bullseye grinned widely as he set down his cards. “Case in point. Straight flush.” He swept the chips to his side of the table. He took one of them and twirled it between his fingers. “Hey Ebersol—” Bullseye flicked the chip with his trademarked deadly aim, intentionally missing and embedding the chip in the wall right near the Fixer’s head. “How’s that for a tip?”

“Fucking assholes,” muttered the Fixer as he walked out of the common area, their snickering following him down the hall.

Mount Charteris

“I know, Karla. I know what I have to do,” said Graviton. He extended one arm and beckoned towards him. The moonstone hovered from its position, slowly moving closer and closer to the pair. “I know what you’d say. Forcing people to do my bidding is as much a show of psychological weakness as it is of physical strength. That’s something you taught me. And you’ve proven more than capable of convincing people to see things your way.”

The moonstone hovered above Graviton’s open hand. “So I’m going to relinquish my control over you as a possible unconscious plaything. I’m going to restore you to what I fell in love with.”

Graviton studied the moonstone carefully, still somewhat unsure if his decision was the right one. And it was a concern he gave voice to.

“This will weaken what little hold I have on you. But even if I do lose you, I’ll know I’ll have made myself stronger by risking emotional pain. Or in other words, by empowering you, I empower myself.”

He took both Karla’s hands and held them open and then with his powers directed the moonstone into her waiting palms. Graviton stepped back and watched with rapt attention as the moonstone pulsated with even more power, slowly phasing into Karla Sofen’s body.

Her eyes slid open and golden light emanated from them, spilling out and creating a vivid light show that could be seen from miles around the mountain.

Castle Zemo

Baron Zemo appeared through a portal in his office. Once the portal vanished, he dropped the disguise he wore, revealing his scarred visage.

“About time you got back.”

Zemo turned and saw the Fixer sitting behind his desk, legs perched on its surface. The Baron frowned as he donned his mask. “I believe we had an understanding about entering my office unannounced.”

“We did, but I was getting sick of looking around for you,” said the Fixer. He brought his legs down and stood. “We may have a problem.”

“And what problem might that be?”

“I was trying to find that target and stumbled on something—I wasn’t the only one looking for him.”

“Why should that come as a surprise?” asked Zemo. “The man is a wanted felon. Surely any number of law enforcement agencies are looking for him.”

“Nah, this didn’t have any of those markings. It was just one guy, but he was good at covering his tracks. Too bad for him, I’m better,” said the Fixer.

“So who is it and why would he be of interest to us?” asked Zemo.

Ebersol handed over the report he printed out and Zemo flipped through the pages. One of them was a photograph of a person clad in a suit of armor. “Someone with ties to one of our old buddies.”

“Yes, I see that…” said Zemo. He dropped the report on his desk. “Who is currently on hand?”

“Chen and Blonsky are in the war room still working on those dossiers you wanted on the Hammers. Arliss is off in his little swimming area but he can be called in. Flumm and Wyngarde are squirreled away somewhere, getting telepathically chummy again. And then Bullseye, Levins and Kasady are fucking off in the common area.”

“The holiday is over for the time being,” said Zemo. “Gather Mentallo and Jack O’Lantern. Inform them they have a new mission.”

Mount Charteris

“How long?”

Those were the first words Karla spoke as she sat up, phasing her body free of the machinery hooked to her. She fixed an icy gaze on Graviton.

“How long have I been out?”

“I’m not sure exactly. A few weeks, possibly even months,” said Graviton. “During the invasion of Castle Zemo, I brought you out of there.”

Karla paused and placed a hand on her forehead. “Wait…back up. What invasion?”

Graviton went on to explain Baron Strucker’s attempt to take over Castle Zemo and kill Helmut with a gang of hired villains. He ran down the list of villains who worked for Strucker in the attempt.

“How?” asked Karla. “How did they gain access to an other-dimensional stronghold?”

“Octavius was working with Zemo. He betrayed him to Hammer and provided Strucker with the proper dimensional frequency.” Graviton grinned with pride as he ran down the next part of his story. “I personally bested Zemo myself. Then I ripped one of the moonstones he stole from you.”

“And how long have you kept me here before giving me the moonstone?” she asked.

Graviton considered lying to her. But he knew Karla would see right through that, so instead he chose to be honest. “A few weeks. I had hoped you could come out of it on your own.”

Karla smiled slightly. “Why? So I could be powerless human and you could enjoy the godlike control you had over me?”

Graviton hung his head and turned away from her. “I realized you’d never respect me if I kept you imprisoned like that. So I finally resorted to using the moonstone. But I’m not going to fight you, Karla. If you want to leave, I won’t stop you.”

“I appreciate your honesty, Franklin, and believe it or not, I actually do give you credit. Coming to the realization that there’s no pride in crushing a defenseless opponent represents significant growth for you.” She climbed out of bed, tossing the sheet from her naked body and making no attempt to cover it. “Right now, I need to regroup. I need more information on a number of parties and once I’m ready to confront Zemo, I could use the help of someone who’s quickly becoming more of an equal.”

She tossed a flirty glance at Graviton as she said that last sentence.

“It won’t be easy,” he said. “Zemo still has two moonstones and a small army of Thunderbolts to contend with.”

“Yes, and he’s likely relocated his castle to a different dimensional frequency,” said Karla. “But I have a bargaining chip, something that will definitely catch Zemo’s attention.”

“What?” asked Graviton.

“Zemo and I were involved in a skirmish where we obtained five nuclear warheads…and only I know where they’re hidden,” she said. “And if I haven’t forgotten them, I’m positive neither has Zemo.”

“So what’s your plan?”

“Oh, I’ll give them back to the Baron,” said Karla as the moonstone generated her familiar Moonstone costume over her body. “Only not quite in the manner he’d prefer…”

NEXT: The Cardinal Rule