Castle Zemo

“GIVE IT TO ME!”

Cletus Kasady lunged for the Fixer. In the Fixer’s hands was a device with a glass top, containing a red and black sludge.

“Hold him back,” said the Fixer.

Bullseye threw a punch, shattering Kasady’s nose and toppling him to the ground. “Ease up, red. Once teacher decides your time-out is over, then you get your toy back.”

“It’s mine!” shouted Kasady. “Give it back or I’ll kill you all!”

Fixer looked at his compatriots in the room—the Abomination, Lady Mastermind, Bullseye, Tiger Shark—and then back to Kasady. The five Thunderbolts began to laugh at the serial killer’s statement.

“Stop laughing at me…” said Kasady. It only caused their laughter to increase in volume. “I SAID STOP!”

Kasady jumped at Bullseye and the master assassin easily flipped him over and slammed him on the ground. He planted his foot on Kasady’s chest and a blade popped out from the tip of his boot, almost piercing Kasady’s neck.

“You try somethin’ stupid again and I’ll show you how a real killer does his job, paycheck be damned,” said Bullseye.

Kasady struggled to sit up, but Bullseye was too strong for him. Tiger Shark knelt down by Kasady’s face, growling in it, claws grazing his skin.

“What the hell is he doing?” asked Kasady.

“Todd here doesn’t say much,” said the Fixer. “But my guess is he’s trying to determine whether or not he should eat you whole or chop you up first.”

“What do you want from me?” asked Kasady. “Why’d you break me out of Ravencroft?”

“If you stopped whining for a few minutes, maybe we’d give you some answers,” said Lady Mastermind. She looked to the Fixer. “Where the hell is Zemo? This is starting to bore me.”

“He’s coming, babe,” said the Fixer. Golden energy surrounded the Thunderbolts before converging on a single point and slowly growing larger. “In fact, judging by the light show, I’d say he’s just arrived.”

The energy took the form of Helmut Zemo, the thirteenth man to claim the title of Baron. His familiar mask covered his face, with a sword held at his side. But hovering around him were three, perfect gemstones, the same color as the energy that surrounded him and they seemed to glow. At Zemo’s gesture, the energy subsided and the gems vanished from sight.

“Good morning, my Thunderbolts,” he said.

“I thought it was evening,” said the Abomination.

“Just a figure of speech, Blonsky,” said the Fixer. “Castle Zemo exists between dimensions, so there’s never any day or night here.”

“Z-Zemo?” asked Kasady. “I know you, man. You’re the big guy… what do you want with me?”

“My reputation precedes me, it seems,” said Baron Zemo. He crouched down, resting his upper body on his bent leg. “Cletus Kasady, an unremarkable serial killer who would have experienced an unremarkable death by lethal injection.”

“Hey, just wait a—”

“But the fates intervened, didn’t they, Mr. Kasady? Put you in a cell with Eddie Brock and when the symbiote arrived to liberate him, it left something behind for you,” said Baron Zemo. “Its offspring, which merged with you, creating Carnage, magnifying the animal inside you. You have no code. You have no morality. No compassion, not even a shred of humanity. And you like to think of yourself as chaos personified, as if this somehow makes you enlightened. But do you want to know the truth?

“It doesn’t. Quite the opposite, you’re nothing more than a rabid dog. You lack every aspect of humanity and that includes intelligence,” said Zemo. “You’ve squandered the gift that’s been given to you. You give my compatriots and I a bad name. For that alone, I should have Bullseye end you.”

“With pleasure,” said Bullseye, raising a playing card to his smiling face.

“Wait!” said Kasady.

“Well now? Seems there is a desire to preserve some life inside you,” said Zemo. “But I thought life didn’t matter, Kasady?”

“We’re talkin’ about me here…”

“Relax, Mr. Kasady, I’m not going to kill you,” said Baron Zemo. He looked up at Bullseye. “Nor will anyone else in my employ.”

“Aww damn…” muttered Bullseye.

“I give you my word that my home will be your sanctuary,” said Zemo. “You will be safe here and you will have access to all the comforts contained within. And in an extremely magnanimous move on my part, I will also reunite you with your symbiote. On one condition.”

“Anything,” said Kasady. “Just give me the word, I’ll do whatever you want.”

“That’s precisely what you will do,” said Zemo. “You will do what I ask of you when I ask it without question and without hesitation. And that includes reeling in your bloodlust when I command you to do so. The Word of Zemo is the Word of God to your ears. Should you violate or deviate from my orders in even the slightest capacity, you will be terminated. Are we clear?”

“Yeah, I got it, whatever you want,” said Kasady. “Just give it back!”

“As you wish,” said the Baron. He looked to the Fixer and gave a simple nod.

The Fixer approached Kasady and Bullseye and the other Thunderbolts save Zemo stepped back as Ebersol opened the containment unit. The symbiote flowed out, wrapping its tendrils around Cletus Kasady’s body. It pulled itself towards him, flowing over his body, seeping into his skin.

“YEAH!” shouted Kasady. “THAT’S RIGHT, BABY—COME HOME TO DADDY!”

The symbiote flowed over his entire body and once he stood, tendrils billowed from him, his skin now a mixture of black and red flowing together but never merging. His face was that of a monster, with large, white eyes and razor-sharp black teeth. His fingers became long, thin claws and once he viewed the man who returned him to his true glory, he threw his arm back, forming it into a large pike and threw it towards Zemo. The Baron stood calm and collected and on cue, Carnage’s entire body convulsed with pain and he collapsed.

“Do you think me an idiot, Kasady?” asked Zemo. “Do you truly believe I would give you such power without some sort of safeguard in place to ensure you would not use it against myself or my allies?”

“Wh-what are you doing?” asked Carnage, his body still quivering with pain.

“Go ahead, Norbert—educate our guest,” said Zemo.

“It’s an implant in your head,” said the Fixer. “Using sonic waves on a specific frequency, it creates a feeling of extreme vertigo, to the point that it effectively paralyzes everything below your neck. And since it uses sonics, it prevents the symbiote from taking control.”

“So there you have it, Carnage,” said Zemo. “Your options are to join me, as I said before. Or, you die. Very slowly and very painfully. Now, what is your decision?”

“I-I’ll… I’ll do it,” said Carnage.

Beneath his mask, Zemo smiled. “Excellent. Welcome to the Thunderbolts, Carnage.”

DARK KNIGHTS

Part II: In Play

By Dino Pollard

Clint Barton’s eyes slowly opened and he turned over in the comfortable bed. His eyelids fell again, prepared to let sleep overtake his body once more. But that’s the moment he realized something was wrong.

Hawkeye awoke with a start. The last thing he remembered, he was in Manhattan with the Redeemers… or was he at the White House with Moonstone…? Or… with Reed Richards… a very different Richards… But now, he was in a bed in a spartan-like room.

“My head hurts…” muttered Clint, rubbing his temple.

“That’s usually how alternate realities work.”

Hawkeye looked over to the door. A tall man with handsome features and short, blond hair leaned against the frame. He wore a dark blue uniform complete with a red and white V over his chest and a cape sharing those colors spilling down his back. Strapped to his side was a sword with a golden hand guard.

“Watkins,” said Hawkeye.

“Good to see you’ve recovered, Barton.” John Watkins the Third, the latest in a long line of men and women to bear the name Citizen V. He walked into the room and sat on the edge of Hawkeye’s bed.

“I assume that means I’m with the V-Battalion,” said Hawkeye.

“You assume right,” said Watkins.

“Care to fill me in?”

“The details are sketchy, but apparently it had something to do with the Red Skull,” said Watkins.

“The Skull?” Clint shook his head. “Nah, you’re wrong. It was Zemo, I’m sure of it.”

“Whatever was going on between you and Zemo is immaterial, the Avengers say it was the Skull,” said Watkins. “Some sort of reality shift.”

“And how did I…?”

“V-Battalion was helping with clean-up when we found you,” said Watkins. “Brought you here for medical treatment and to get some answers.”

“Answers to what?” asked Clint.

“The Thunderbolts, they were operating out of Stormfront-1 in the North Sea, right?” asked Watkins. Clint nodded. “That’s the thing, Clint—Stormfront-1 is gone.”

“Can’t be,” said Clint.

“More than that, Atlas, Vantage and Blackheath have all turned up in various spots with no memory of how they got there or what happened to the T-Bolts.”

“What about the Redeemers?” asked Hawkeye. “The team I assembled?”

“Who was with you?” asked Watkins. “You’ll have to forgive me, Barton—I can’t keep up with all the teams you guys keep forming.”

“MACH-IV, Amazon, Man-Wolf, Diamondback, Falcon, and Harrier,” said Clint.

“All accounted for with the exception of Jenkins,” said Watkins.

“What about Zemo?”

“Still missing. Same goes for Moonstone, Fixer and Songbird. My theory is they skipped out with your boy and took out Stormfront-1 to cover their tracks.”

“Nah, that doesn’t make sense,” said Clint. “If Zemo was plotting something, he would have left Mel and Abe behind. They’ve always been the more heroic ones in that group. They’d pose too much of a threat if he kept them around.”

“There’s something else, too,” said Watkins.

“What’s that?”

“Jameson, he became the Man-Wolf because of a moonstone, right?”

Clint nodded.

“The moonstone’s gone.”

That caused Clint to sigh. “Christ… Karla must’ve taken it from him during all the chaos.”

“Which means she now has three moonstones. And that’s three more than I’m comfortable with.”

“So what do you want from me?” asked Clint.

“Your cooperation,” said Watkins. “No one knows the Thunderbolts better than you, Clint. You’re our best shot of bringing them in.”

“No way,” said Clint. “Even under Zemo, they’ve been doing good work.”

“Jenkins and Gold will be free to go,” said Watkins. “But Zemo, Ebersol and Sofen? I want them in V-Battalion custody.”

“I gave them my word I wouldn’t go after them,” said Clint.

“Then you’re an accomplice,” said Watkins. “And you’re under arrest.”

Castle Zemo

Songbird, MACH-IV, Radioactive Man, Blizzard, the Swordsman and the Fixer all sat at a round table, in the center of which was a holographic projection of a government installation—an abandoned Hulkbuster base.

“It’s time I told you all why we’re together,” said Baron Zemo.

“Because of my father,” said the Swordsman.

“In part, but Strucker is just a small piece of the puzzle,” said Zemo. “In reality, there’s a larger force at work here. One that has been behind the scenes of world events for decades, dating back to before World War II.”

“What are you talking about?” asked Songbird.

“Every single one of us is a product and is in some way connected to a secret cabal known as Control,” said Zemo. “Captain America and the Super Soldier program? That was Control. The Fantastic Four’s space expedition? Control had a hand in it. The Hulk? Again, Control. They’ve been operating behind the scenes of this world for longer than any of us have been in it.”

“Doesn’t make any sense,” said Radioactive Man. “If they’ve managed to keep this a secret for decades, to the point that no one else knows about it, how did you find out?”

“I have my sources,” said Zemo.

“That’s not good enough, Helmut,” said Songbird.

“For now, it will have to do, my dear,” said Zemo. “The projection you see here is an abandoned Hulkbuster base—or what appears to be one. In reality, this is a Control research facility.”

“And what are they researching there?” asked MACH-IV.

“That’s what you are going to find out, Abner,” said Zemo.

“Without you,” said Radioactive Man.

“Or your new toys,” remarked MACH-IV.

“My presence is needed elsewhere,” said Zemo. “There is another mission I must undertake.”

The Vanguard

The stealth ship that served as a mobile base for the V-Battalion was reverse-engineered from alien technology. So imagine the surprise of those onboard when the ship was struck from the side.

“Status report!” shouted Watkins. He pulled on the mask of Citizen V.

“Something hit us, something that’s able to stay off our radar!” said one of the technicians.

A thought entered Citizen V’s mind. He drew his sword and dashed down the corridor, heading to the cabin Hawkeye had been resting in. As soon as he opened the door, he saw a small pumpkin flying towards him and leaped to the side a moment before it exploded.

Inside the cabin, a man stood on a hovering disc with a flaming pumpkin for his head. “The name’s Jack O’Lantern!” he shouted as he hurled another flaming pumpkin.

Citizen V avoided the blast and charged forward. Surprisingly, despite the hole in the ship’s hull, the pressure remained intact. He flung himself towards Jack O’Lantern when a mechanical tendril came from outside the hull and slapped him to the side. Before he lost consciousness, Citizen V watched another tendril wrap around Hawkeye’s body.

Doctor Octopus lifted Hawkeye from the Vanguard with Jack O’Lantern hovering nearby. Hawkeye glared at the mad scientist with anger. “What the hell are you doing?”

“There’s a price on your head, Avenger—and we’ve been hired to collect it,” said Doctor Octopus.

“Let’s get outta here,” said Jack O’Lantern. “Don’t these guys have a super-team of their own these days?”

“Yes,” said Doctor Octopus. He was about to relay a message back to their base when golden energy surrounded them, pulling them back to their point of origin. Once there, Doctor Octopus released Hawkeye and he immediately got into a fighting stance.

“We’ve just liberated you from a prison, Hawkeye. I’d expect you to be a bit more gracious.”

Barton looked behind him. “Zemo…”