Four of the Thunderbolts gathered on a rooftop opposite of a nondescript factory in the dead of night. The Fixer had provided his teammates with earpieces they were to wear at all times in order to keep in constant contact. For Killer Shrike, this was his first opportunity to prove that he was just as good as Zemo’s veteran Thunderbolts, but for Jack O’Lantern and Carnage, they were only interested in causing as much chaos as possible.

A convoy approached the factory, flanked by a couple of black sedans with tinted windows. They came to a stop in front of the plant, where two other matching cars were parked, presumably awaiting the shipment. A security force emerged from the plant. They were all armed with high-powered energy rifles, and they wore military-style uniforms with the Roxxon logo emblazoned on patches on their arms. The Fixer activated the scanner over his left eye to check the status of the vehicles. As the device did its work, he addressed his team.

“Remember, this is a simple plan. Even the intellectually-challenged among you shouldn’t have any trouble with it.” Although he made no eye contact with any of the members, the three Thunderbolts knew to whom the Fixer was referring. “Hit hard and fast, make a path to the truck so I can deal with any security mechanisms and get the goods.”

“Yeah, yeah, we got it already,” said the Jack O’Lantern.

The Killer Shrike crouched down, prepared to allow the anti-gravity device implanted in his spine to carry him down as his gauntlets crackled with electricity. Carnage slithered along the rooftop like a snake, tiny droplets of drool dripping from the symbiote’s black fangs. And Jack O’Lantern activated the circular glider he stood on, its magnetic devices raising him silently into the air.

Just as they were about to move into action, an alert popped up on the Fixer’s scanner. “Hold it!”

“I thought you said this was a go?” asked the Killer Shrike, casting a glance at his field leader.

“My scanners are picking up a sudden surge in energy,” said the Fixer. “Specifically Darkforce energy.”

The Darkforce signature the Fixer detected was a result of a portal through the Darkforce dimension, a portal that now opened up in front of the convoy. The Smuggler was the first out of the portal, with Klaw and the Constrictor following close behind. The final combatant was Lodestone, hovering above her teammates.

Roxxon’s security force aimed their weapons at the colorfully-dressed villains. Klaw stepped up towards them and a smile fell over his pink features. He raised the prosthetic grafted to his right wrist, a sound generator and a massive burst of sonic energy fired loose from it. One of the cars was shredded by the blast, as were a few guards.

The remaining ones opened fire with their rifles. Lodestone hovered above Klaw and used her magnetic abilities to raise the cars summoning them as shields to block the guards’ fire. Two of the cars, presumably the buyers who arranged to purchase Roxxon’s shipment, sped off.

Lodestone clasped her hands together and pulled them apart, tearing the remaining cars in half and sent the now-jagged fragments of the metal vehicles through the security guards.

From above, the Thunderbolts watched all this happen, but Fixer noticed that neither Smuggler nor Constrictor had gotten involved in the battle. In fact, both were now gone.

CRESCENDO

Part III

By Steve Seinberg and Dino Pollard

In a remote South Pacific island was a massive complex. Built in secret following World War II, this complex and the island it sits in has served as one of the many bases of the mysterious organization called Hydra. And seated on a terrace, sipping from a cup of steaming hot tea and wearing a navy-blue suit was a man the world believed to be dead—Justin Hammer.

Seated next to Hammer at the small round table was a man clad in a purple and black suit of lightweight body armor. The helmet with its expressionless faceplate rested on the table and sheathed at each hip was a sword. The man’s features were young and attractive, with bright blue eyes and short, blond hair. In many ways, his appearance was perhaps the polar opposite of Hammer’s.

“I would like to thank you for accommodating myself and my associates, Andreas,” said Hammer.

Andreas Von Strucker, known as the Swordsman, and the current Supreme Leader of Hydra, offered no response. He didn’t even look at Hammer, as if the elder man was beneath his notice. Hammer maintained the car salesman-like smile regardless of the Swordsman’s lack of interest.

“Quite an interesting set of circumstances we have here,” said Hammer. “The Masters of Evil, the Thunderbolts, Hydra, all of them set to go to war with each other. All of them—”

“Why are you here?” asked the Swordsman.

Hammer was taken aback, but he kept the smile on his face. “You did invite us.”

“This is true.” The Swordsman set down his tea and rose from his chair. He stepped towards the edge of the terrace and cast his gaze out at the tropical forest that surrounded the complex. In a movement of incredible speed, he had turned on his heel and drawn one of his swords, the tip of the blade pressed up against Hammer’s Adam’s apple.

“Did you ever stop to wonder why I would invite you here?” asked the Swordsman. “Perhaps it was simply the perfect opportunity to eliminate some of my competition.”

The old man swallowed and edged his chair back slightly, but the Swordsman advanced that small distance once more. “That is one way of looking at the situation. Although if that were truly your intention, you would have killed me on the spot, wouldn’t you? Both Zemo and that twisted bitch I’m ashamed to call my daughter would like nothing more than to turn the rumors of my demise into reality. But you, my friend, you understand the benefit of my associations, don’t you?”

The Swordsman slowly lowered his blade, but kept his steel gaze on Hammer. He knew of those associations, to be certain. And if anyone could get him into the inner circle of the mysterious Control, it was Hammer.

A throat cleared. Hammer craned his neck and the Swordsman looked up. Bentley Wittman, the Wizard, in his purple and blue suit of hi-tech armor, stood at the door to the terrace, a tablet in his hands.

“Hammer’s associate just left after she set up the feed,” said the Wizard. “What do you think, Andreas?”

The Swordsman nodded and sheathed the weapon. “Show me.”

The Wizard approached and handed the tablet to the Swordsman. With a push of a touch-screen button, the live feed from the Roxxon shipment began to play out. The Swordsman watched as Klaw and Lodestone tore a path through the security force.

“I should also mention,” said Hammer, adjusting his tie, “that you will soon be contacted by a former teammate. One with a overture of an alliance.”

The Swordsman glanced up from the screen. “And who might this teammate be?”

Hammer smiled. “Watch the feed. We’ll get to that soon enough.”

Security forces inside the locked truck could hear the ruckus from outside. One of the guards pushed his ear up against the door, and looked back at his two comrades with fear in his eyes. “Sh-should we go out there and help?”

“Hell no,” said the second. “That door will keep those freaks out. Just stay put until reinforcements arri—AHHH!”

A black tendril whipped out from the shadows and wrapped around the guard’s ankle, quickly yanking him into the shadows. Emerging from the shadows was the Constrictor, and one of his adamantium coils snapped out and wrapped around the neck of another guard, choking him until he fell into an unconscious state. The third guard raised his energy rifle, but before he could fire, a fist extended from the shadows and struck his jaw. The Smuggler emerged from the shadows and he and the Constrictor examined the shipment, locked in a giant, metal container with a digital display on the front.

“What now?” asked the Smuggler.

The Constrictor flung both coils at the wall of the truck, punching a hole through it. “Hey Klaw, quit fooling around and get in here!”

Klaw had just finished liquefying one of the guards and turned his attention to the truck. But before he could take a step in that direction, a bomb was flung out in his path and exploded. Klaw through up a solid sound shield to protecting himself from the explosion and looked up to find the Fixer hovering overhead.

“The professionals can take it from here now, Ulysses,” he said, with the Jack O’Lantern and Killer Shrike flanking him under their own means of flying. Carnage swung from one of his tendrils and landed on the ground in a crouch, one hand placed on the ground in front of him, the fingers of his other hand elongating and forming into razor-sharp claws.

“Right,” said the Constrictor, his coils snapping out from the housings on his gauntlets. “Because racist pricks, serial killers, and flat-out nutbags just screamprofessionalism.”

“If it’s screamin’ you want, then howzabout you get us started? Here, I’ll give you a hand!” said Carnage, pouncing. The Constrictor got on the offense, his adamantium tentacles lashing out. Carnage struggled as they wrapped around him, and the Constrictor struggled to maintain a firm hold on him. It was like trying to lasso a wild horse.

The Jack O’Lantern flew into action against Lodestone, hurling flaming pumpkin bombs in her direction. There were no metal parts in the bombs, just plastics, which made it impossible for Lodestone’s power to have any effect on them, and so she was restricted simply to evasion. The Jack O’Lantern cackled as he watched her flitter about.

“That’s right, not so tough against those, are you?”

Lodestone extended her hand towards the Jack O’Lantern. “What about that glider you’re standing on?”

The Jack O’Lantern’s cackle halted suddenly as his glider stopped responding to his commands. Lodestone amplified the magnetic field the glider flew on and the Jack O’Lantern was sent skyrocketing. She rolled her eyes as she watched him soar. “Moron.”

Andreas sat on the terrace, watching the fight between the two squads of Thunderbolts and Masters of Evil on the tablet the Wizard had given him. But he was completely disinterested in it. He cast an accusatory glance at Hammer. Neither man noticed as the Wizard turned away from them, his attention diverted by an incoming transmission through his helmet.

“I see nothing to indicate you’ve had any hand in these proceedings.” Andreas stood, placing the tablet on the table. “I could watch super-villains pummel each other into submission any time I wish, so if this is the extent of your presentation, I am a very busy man, almost terminally so, and I must get back to my own affairs.”

Hammer responded with a sly grin and then said, “This isn’t everything, Andreas. If you simply continue watching for another few moments, I believe you will find yourself impressed. On a number of fronts, in fact.”

“Andreas?” came the voice of the Wizard. The Swordsman looked at his trusted lieutenant. “I’ve just received a transmission notifying me that we’ve had a serious security breach at one of our more minor facilities, and it comes packaged with a request for an audience with you.”

“And who would presume to be worthy of that audience?” asked the Swordsman.

“Moonstone,” said the Wizard. “And her gravity-powered lunatic of a pet that she keeps on a  leash.”

Andreas turned his attention to Hammer. The old man was still grinning and he gestured back to the tablet.

“Have Dr. Sofen wait for now,” said Andreas and looked at the tablet’s feed once more.

The Constrictor sent a high dose of electricity through the adamantium cables, electricity that was channeled right into Carnage’s body. The symbiote’s arm extended, his hand wrapping around the Constrictor’s face. Specifically the part of his face that wasn’t covered by the insulated suit. And that contact is all it took for the Constrictor to begin electrocuting himself.

The cables slackened and Carnage slithered to his downed opponent. Cletus Kasady started to giggle, his fingers merging together and a long, thin blade forming with the symbiote. But just as he was about to start dissecting the Constrictor, he realized something.

For the first time in a long while, there were no eyes on him. No nosy telepaths, none of the Fixer’s surveillance, no pan-dimensional castle. The rest of his team was distracted, he’d already taken down the Constrictor, this was his perfect chance to slip away unnoticed.

Not yet, Cletus.

“But you said it yourself,” said Cletus. “Remember? We know Zemo’s not gonna keep me around forever. Getting out while the getting’s good is the best chance! And now here’s our chance!”

We’ll need a better diversion than what’s basically a simple conflict to cover our tracks.

Cletus looked down at the Constrictor. “Can I at least kill him, then?”

I’m disappointed you even have to ask.

Carnage grinned his large, black grin. He brought the blade down by the Constrictor, but then something else caught his eye. Something over by the truck. “Y’know that diversion you said we needed? How’s that look to you?”

In his mind’s eye, Cletus pictured the symbiote smiling with satisfaction. Yes, that would work nicely. I’m proud of you, Cletus. There may be hope for you yet.

A teleport gate had opened near the truck and several costumed characters had emerged from it. They slipped into the truck, intending to use the battle as a cover for their actions. Carnage shouted over the roar of the battle: “Hey Fixer! We’ve got company!”

Now go!

The Fixer crossed his arms in front of his body, his gauntlets generating a photonic shield to protect him from the force of Klaw’s sonic blasts. While the Fixer handled defense with his gauntlets, his tech-pack took care of the retaliation, miniature rockets firing from its housings and streaking across the factory parking lot for their target.

Klaw jumped back, turning the sonics onto the rockets and increasing the force until the housings shattered and the rockets exploded before reaching their mark. The Fixer followed up with another flurry of explosives, and it was all Klaw could do to throw up shields to prevent them from impacting him.

Not far off, the Killer Shrike evaded the Smuggler’s extending appendages, easily maneuvering past them with grace. As Killer Shrike flew near the factory walls, tendrils extended from the shadows behind him, quickly restraining him. He struggled against them, firing electric bursts at them until they finally grew weary and released him, vanishing back into the shadows.

“Hey Fixer! We’ve got company!”

Carnage’s voice came through the Fixer’s earpiece, but even if it didn’t, Carnage had shouted loud enough for everyone to hear. The Fixer groaned at that as Klaw turned to the truck as well, blocking the Fixer’s line of sight. But voices were clearly coming from inside the truck. Klaw rushed towards it and shouted at whoever was inside.

“I suggest you vacate immediately, before I—ARGH!”

There was the sickening sound of metal screeching and Klaw fell to his knees from the pain. The Fixer hovered overhead and he saw the face of Klaw’s attacker. Her skin was green and she had short, dark hair with white streaks in it. An aura surrounded her body and the Fixer realized who it was. In fact, he was the one responsible for releasing her from prison not too long ago.

“Oh hell . . .” he muttered. “Half-Life . . .”

To be continued