Baja, Mexico

A white man exited the cantina, but despite the stench of tequila that wafted from him, he seemed to show no effects of inebriation. Mostly due to his tall, strongly-built frame. Even in rough neighborhoods such as this, he showed no fear, walking with an assured confidence.

As he passed, three young toughs watched him move and began to follow. They kept a safe distance to avoid detection. But as the white man passed into the glow of a house’s yard light, he spun on his heel to face the would-be attackers. He locked eyes with each of them, silently broadcasting them an invitation to dare and try their luck against him.

The three toughs stopped in their tracks. They locked their eyes with his as well, but soon broke their stares and backed off into the darkness, intent on finding an easier target. The man huffed and continued on his walk. He made his way to a factory, apparently closed down, and opened the door. Inside, an assembly line was hard at work, far more technologically advanced than one would think from the dilapidated outward appearance of the building. It was a graveyard shift busy at work, although not as many people as would be on during the day.

One of the workers broke away from the others, approaching the large man. “Señor Latigazo—”

The man raised his hand to silence the worker and then responded in English with, “it’s not Señor or Mister, and I don’t wanna hear whatever ridiculous Spanish translation of my name. You wanna address me, you address me by one name and one name only—Blacklash. You got it?”

“Si.”

“And when you speak to me, you speak to me in English, comprende?”

The worker nodded.

“Let me hear it,” said Blacklash.

“Yes.”

“Good, now get back to work,” said Blacklash. “We don’t got time for chit-chat.”

The worker nodded slowly and returned to his place on the line. Blacklash thought for a moment and then called after the worker again. “Y’know what, on second thought, don’t call me anything at all. You want something, you try to catch my eye. An’ if I give you permission, then you can talk.”

The worker nodded and returned to his task.

Blacklash sighed as he watched the men continue their work. “I hate this goddamn job. And this godforsaken place.”

BACK IN BLACK

By Steve Seinberg and Dino Pollard

Castle Zemo

The Radioactive Man stood in the conference room with the Fixer, Abomination, Bullseye and Tiger Shark seated around the table. The holographic display in the center of the table projected an image of Blacklash in his familiar black costume with the cape and trademark whip.

“Scarlotti? You gotta be shittin’ me,” said Bullseye. “Why are we wastin’ time with this D-list assassin when you’ve got me?”

“If the Baron is questioning your worth, then perhaps you have only yourself to blame,” said the Radioactive Man.

“And what’s so wrong with my work up ‘til now?” asked Bullseye.

“How about trying to rile up the hyperactive set like Levins and Kasady?” asked the Fixer. “Or Gill when he was still here?”

“You were tasked to attend to Octavius when he betrayed us to Strucker. You failed miserably,” said the Abomination.

“And then there’s your continued harassment of Regan Wyngarde,” said the Radioactive Man.

Bullseye brushed that last one off with a wave of his hand. “Oh please, she’s a big girl. She doesn’t need some nuked-out chink defending her.”

“Precisely the problem,” said the Radioactive Man. “It takes more and more intervention on our part to keep her from scorching your synapses into oblivion.”

“Not like I ever punked out on an actual contract hit,” said Bullseye. “Y’know, the work I’m here for in the first place?”

“You’re absolutely right, Lester,” said the Fixer. “So why don’t you go over to the Baron’s office and tell him yourself?”

Bullseye’s gaze dropped to the table and he grew quiet. The rest of the gathered Thunderbolts focused on him for a few moments before Radioactive Man broke the silence.

“Shall I continue?” he asked. No objection came. “Excellent.”

 A dilapidated factory replaced the projection of Blacklash. “Using intelligence first obtained by Emil and then developed by Norbert via technological means, we’ve managed to uncover a weapons manufacturing ring run by Justin Hammer, just south of the United States border.”

“So what are they making?” asked Bullseye.

“A new generation of smart bullets,” said the Fixer. “They’re hollow-point and filled with an acidic substance developed in Hammer’s lab. So wherever you’re shot, it’s only a matter of time before the acid eats through your internal organs.”

“Furthermore, this operation is being watchdogged by Scarlotti himself,” said the Radioactive Man.

“Scarlotti has some issues with Hammer,” said the Abomination. “The Baron believes he can be turned and he wants Dr. Chen to lead Bullseye and Tiger Shark on a recruiting mission.”

“I’m here to kill people, not make friends.” Bullseye jerked a thumb towards Tiger Shark. “And Jaws over here ain’t exactly the most sociable kid on the block.”

“That brings us to the second part of the mission,” said the Radioactive Man. “Ideally, we’ll entice Scarlotti into defection and he will let us into the facility so we can destroy it. But go easy on the civilians, unless they raise arms against us.”

“And if Scarlotti says no?” asked Bullseye.

“All bets are off,” said the Radioactive Man.

Bullseye smiled at that, but then added another question. “So why are Ebersol and Blonsky here if it’s just the three of us?”

“We believe Hammer has a limited function teleport gate in the Baja facility that he uses to smuggle the bullets across the border into a linked gate in San Ysidro. Emil and I will keep watch on that facility and harvest enough of Hammer’s tech for reverse-engineering purposes,” said the Fixer. “When we leave, we’ll raze the place.”

“You have an hour to prepare for the mission,” said the Radioactive Man. “This meeting is dismissed.”

Bullseye stayed in his seat as the rest of the Thunderbolts left the conference room. He kept his eyes on the projection of Blacklash as he chewed on the end of a toothpick. Lester spat the toothpick and it went right through the projection’s head.

“Scarlotti…show his punk-ass what a real hitter looks like. And wouldn’t mind bleeding out that rat bastard Hammer for good measure…”

Hammer Industries

The Latina woman entered the large office of Justin Hammer and the doors automatically closed behind her. She had long, black hair with a pink streak and was dressed all in leather.

“Ms. Vasquez.” The voice came from the large chair with its back to the young woman. The chair slowly turned and Justin Hammer sat there, his hands linked together, elbows resting on the chair’s arms. “I trust you’ve managed to locate the mercenary I requested?”

Maria Vasquez, the latest fighter to bear the name of the Tarantula, nodded her head as she approached the desk. “It was quite the hunt, he’s managed to stay off the radar these days. But I found him.”

“And…?”

“He’s agreed to meet with you,” said the Tarantula.

Hammer smiled. “Good.” He stood from his chair and linked his hands behind his back as he stared out the large window behind his desk. “Now that Zemo has initiated hostilities against myself and Control, we can no longer sit idle. The time has come to go on the offensive. And our new friend will give us the perfect opportunity to strike at Zemo.”

Baja

From a parked jeep just down the road from the cantina, the three Thunderbolts kept a watchful vigil. Image inducers kept their otherwise-suspicious forms concealed from any locals with prying eyes.

Bullseye sat in the front passenger seat, his legs propped on the dash. He balanced a throwing knife on the tip of his finger, tossing it from one finger to the next, always catching it on the tip of the blade.

“Still say this is a waste of time. This chump’s been made Iron Man’s bitch exactly how many times?”

“A man can often be judged not only by the company he keeps, but the caliber of his enemies,” said the Radioactive Man. “And need I remind you of your string of failures against Daredevil, who is nothing more than a well-conditioned baseline human in red pajamas? In contrast, Scarlotti has managed to hold his own against one of the most brilliant men on the planet, a man equipped with a beyond-cutting-edge, hyper-technological armored shell capable of decimating most armies. And he’s done so with little more than a pair of whips and some Kevlar.”

Chen Lu turned his gaze to Bullseye with a smirk. “So I ask you—who exactly is the chump?”

From behind, Tiger Shark chuckled briefly and Bullseye shot him an angry glare. “Who asked you for your opinion, Flipper? When I wanna hear you speak, I’ll toss you a fish, got it?”

Tiger Shark growled in response.

“Silence,” said Radioactive Man. “Look.”

Up ahead, they saw Scarlotti in his civilian garb leaving the cantina. They let him move ahead a bit first and then got out of the car, slowly following him. Radioactive Man placed a hand on Tiger Shark’s shoulder.

“You have his scent?”

Tiger Shark nodded, which would make Scarlotti even easier to follow without arousing suspicion. As they continued on their walk, the factory came into view. Scarlotti approached the front door but before he could reach it, Tiger Shark broke out into a sprint. He jumped over Scarlotti, landing between the mercenary and the door.

Scarlotti backed off from the hybrid creature. From beneath the sleeves of his leather jacket, a pair of titanium whips emerged, crackling with electricity. “Dunno what the hell your game is, Arliss, but I’ll fry your ass if you don’t back off!”

“Relax, Mr. Scarlotti.”

Blacklash spun around, raising his whips in defense to find the Radioactive Man and Bullseye. Chen Lu was the one who spoke and he held his hands up in a gesture of peace. “We simply have a proposition we’d like you to hear out.”

“Whose proposition?” asked Blacklash.

“Someone who will prove to be a far better employer than Justin Hammer,” said the Radioactive Man.

Blacklash relaxed his stance, the whips briefly ceasing their electrical crackling. But they still remained drawn. “I might be willing to listen for a bit.”

“Not so fast,” said the Radioactive Man. “First, we must be sure you’re worth our time.”

He turned to Bullseye who stepped forward with a grin on his face, twirling the knife between his fingers. Scarlotti looked Bullseye up and down and then offered an amused glance at Chen Lu.

“And you consider this guy a challenge?” asked Blacklash. “The guy who gets slapped around by Daredevil once every six months? Knocking him around will actually count for something in your book?”

“You sound like a prick trying to stall,” said Bullseye.

“Stall this!”

Blacklash swung his arms across each other, his whips crackling with electricity and flying towards Bullseye. The assassin back-flipped, narrowly avoiding the whips. The second he touched down on his feet, the dagger left his fingers. Blacklash simply snatched it in the air with one whip, the other flying in an arc.

Bullseye jumped away as the whip struck the ground, sending a little shockwave through the earth. He threw a sai to the ground that pinned Blacklash’s whip in place. Blacklash struggled against the sai briefly, but then snapped it out, the sai flying in the air.

The distraction gave Bullseye enough time to move in close, the palm of his hand connecting with Blacklash’s jaw. He drove an elbow into Blacklash’s chest and followed up with a roundhouse kick. But as his leg cut through the air, Blacklash’s whip wrapped around Bullseye’s ankle. Scarlotti sent a minor charge through the weapon and then quickly wrapped Bullseye with his second whip.

Bullseye struggled against the whips, but could do nothing to break free as Scarlotti pinned him to the ground, placing a heavy work-boot on the assassin’s chest.

“I believe we’ve seen enough,” said the Radioactive Man. “Very impressive, Mr. Scarlotti.”

Scarlotti glared at Bullseye. “Want me to let this braggart up?”

“Once you do, I promise I’ll take those whips and jam ‘em up your ass!” shouted Bullseye.

“You’ll do no such thing,” said the Radioactive Man. “If you cause us any problems, then I promise you, I will personally melt the flesh off your adamantium skeleton, Lester.”

Bullseye kept his mouth shut after that threat and ceased his struggle against Blacklash’s whips. Still, Radioactive Man looked to Blacklash and said, “keep him like that for now.”

“You sonnuva—!”

Nuclear energy started to focus into Radioactive Man’s closed fist as the green aura around him glowed brighter. Bullseye silenced his protest again.

“Allow me to be frank, Mr. Scarlotti,” said the Radioactive Man. “We know Hammer has given you shabby treatment at best over the years and this current job is a waste of your gifts. You are a very elite operative with experience only a handful can match, and my employer offers the compensation and respect a man as talented as you deserves. Not to mention the opportunity to enhance your own reputation as well as host of opportunities for new adventures and challenges.”

“That all sounds pretty good,” said Blacklash and he glanced down at Bullseye. “And I’m guessing it’ll piss off Lester here quite a lot of I say yes, won’t it, Lester?”

Bullseye offered no retort other than gritted teeth. Blacklash smiled as he retracted his whips, freeing the assassin. He then stepped up to Radioactive Man, offering his hand in a show of acceptance.

“You’ve swayed me, Doc. But one question I have—who is it I’m working for?”

The Radioactive Man smiled. “Blacklash, my friend, you are now in the employ of Baron Helmut Zemo. Welcome to the Thunderbolts.”

“T-Bolts, huh? Thought you guys went straight.”

“Don’t believe everything you hear,” said the Radioactive Man. “Now there is one more matter to attend to.”

“What’s that?” asked Blacklash.

“Hammer has some technology the Baron believes would be useful. And following that, he would like us to ensure nothing can be recovered.”

“In that case, let me show you the front door,” said Blacklash.

San Ysidro, California

The Abomination crushed the neck of a security guard who tried to prevent their assault on Hammer’s facility. Nearby, the Fixer listened through his tech-pack to the words of Chen Lu. Once the transmission ended, he looked to his partner.

“Chen says the Mexico job was a success. Let’s finish up over here and head home.”

The Abomination nodded with a smile. “With pleasure, my friend.”

“Emil, let’s not waste too much time over here,” said the Fixer. “The Baron wants you back at the Castle to prepare for your next mission soon.”

“I remember,” said the Abomination. “It seems our recruitment drive is about to move forward on yet another front.”

NEXT: Renegades