USAgent

WALKABOUTS

Prologue: Rearranging Deckchairs

By Clayton Tooley

Bonita Juarez stood in the light and raised her hands above her head as her black, long hair flittered about around her wide, smiling face. The sun caressed her face like a lover’s kiss and she smiled, thankful that the pain in her neck, throat and back was finally gone. It was the greatest morning she had ever experienced…and it was a lie.

Bonita knew she was not healed, not totally anyway. She knew this was a dream but she embraced it, as all of her previous dreams since her rebirth had been full of dark and angry imagery, full of pain and hated all the emotions she despised the most. Her heart did not believe in those things and they made her sad, but her situation and the agony of her time awake these days had surpassed her troubled sleep.

Still, pleasant as this was, she was slowly being overcome by an anxious feeling tinged with dread. Something was coming, of this she was certain, but even she wouldn’t have expected what came next.

From the sky a burning meteor fell to the earth and crashed into the desert floor she was standing on, but it did not explode. A small shower of sand was all that heralded it’s landing, and as she approached at a low glide she realized she had seen this meteor before…it was the vessel that God had used to imbue his essence upon her and make her the Firebird.

True, she had been told since then by some rather shady aliens from the planet Rus that what she’d thought was a meteor had really been a compacted radioactive bundle of waste product from the ship of a member of their race investigating the planet Earth. Bonita did not believe that, however she found her belief challenged when the top portion of the meteor before her slid open and a Rus-ian stepped out onto the ground.

For the life of Bonita she could not make out what he looked like or describe it, only that he was smaller than she was and wore long robes. His face appeared bland but still possessing two eyes and a small nose, though if he had a mouth it was small and unassuming. It was like looking at a blurry negative of a photograph and she could not look at him directly. Yet somehow she knew his name. “Yoof.”

“Hello, Bonita Juarez,” the alien known as Yoof said, bowing. “I am pleased to finally meet you…even if I am only a hallucination.” Yoof, as those shady aliens had told her, had been the name of the Rus-ian who had ‘contaminated’ her those years ago.

“I…I don’t understand,” Bonita said. “I’m imagining this? You aren’t trying to communicate with me?”

“Heavens no, how very droll. Besides, as far as you know Rus technology cannot project into other people’s minds.” He paused, then shrugged. “But then again, you DON’T know that, either, do you?”

“Never mind,” Bonita said, surrendering to the obvious. “I’ve argued with myself and my beliefs enough in my life to recognize the pattern. So if you’re me, why am I talking to myself?”

“I represent the portion of your powers that deals with precognition,” Yoof said, walking closer to her. “Even as a partial super hero you’ve honed your more flashy powers to a large degree, but you seem to lack interest in your glimpses of the future. Why do you think they manifest themselves in your dreams?”

“I never liked those visions,” Bonita said. “The only time they were ever of any benefit was when I saved Hank Pym from himself. Otherwise they were terrible, awful burdens.”

“Well, I think you know what’s coming next then,” Yoof said sadly. “You’ve been trying to tell yourself something for weeks, only now you don’t have the strength to avoid it any longer. I’m sorry.”

Yoof disappeared and the world fell to white…

It had been two weeks since the Machinesmith’s brutal attack on the S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrier and in that time life had stabilized somewhat for those who had joined USAgent on his mission against the Resistants. Having finally made it back to their headquarters beneath Captain America’s brownstone, the heroes had rested and healed to various degrees, but many issues remained to be resolved.

“This is a bad idea,” John Walker said as he sat at the long table in the monitor room, alone save for Major Jason Bludd of S.H.I.E.L.D., their liaison to the peacekeeping force, and Julia Carpenter, the super heroine Arachne. “This team Cap and Fury marked me for, I mean” he continued. “It’s been two weeks and I’ve nearly gotten everyone killed, and Bonita actually did die!”

“C’mon, Jack, none of that was your fault,” Julia said, placing her hand on his forearm. “The Resistants fight was almost a total success and no one could have predicted the Machinesmith’s attack.”

“But Starfox and Moonhunter were badly injured and Jack Flagg died,” Jack said, rage bubbling under his voice. “And Lemar had to kill Meteorite to save me! That’s not what I call success! Then while we’re basically sleeping dozens of S.H.I.E.L.D. Agents get murdered along with Bonita, D-Man nearly had a heart attack and Lemar got the shit kicked out of him, again, saving me! And lets not even talk about Machine Man and what he went through “

Everyone was quiet for a minute and then Bludd sat forward, picked up his inkpen, and flicked it directly into USAgent’s face, whereupon it left a small black dot on his forehead. “Whaa, whaa, whaa, grow up. You want to win all the time, join the Fantastic Four. You’re a soldier and shit happens, and every S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent who died on the Helicarrier was doing the duty they signed up for and should be remembered proudly, not as martyrs. You avenged them, Jack, which is what most of you used to do, and you stopped the bad guys. You did a good job.”

“But is it worth the cost?” Jack asked, spinning the pen in his hands. “When I was on my own or just with Lemar we knew the facts and it was fine. But being in charge of seven people and one of them…” He stopped, looking at Julia and blushed. “I don’t know if I can do it. I used to annoy Hawk’s ass about just this stuff, but he always seemed to have a handle on it. God how much do I hate saying that…”

Julia smiled and patted his arm again. “Aww, he’s just a growing boy, he’s not ready for these new ideas and big plans.” That even got a smile from Jack and she continued, “But we believe in you, Jack…I believe in you. We followed you before and we want to join you in this team. Don’t doubt yourself and don’t wallow in the hard hits. No one said this hero thing was easy. Look at how the Works ended, or the WCA or even what the Avengers have been going through now. The best we can do is survive and keep trying.”

“Damned right,” Bludd said, standing and swiping his pen back from Jack. “Speaking of, if this pity party’s over, I have to go meet the new doctor for an update on Firebird, and I believe you have a sparring session with Free Spirit, Julia.” She nodded and stood, pulling her mask on. “Let me know how that goes and how she’s been doing.”

“No problem,” Julia said, giving Jack a quick peck on the cheek. “You still getting Rachel from school?”

“Yeah, no problem,” he said, smiling. “Though I don’t think she likes it much.”

“She’s fourteen going on thirty, she doesn’t like much of anything,” Julia said, smiling as she leapt over the table and flipped for the door. “But I think she likes you…to a degree.” Laughing, she crawled upside-down through the door and disappeared.

“Walk with me, Jack,” Bludd said and they headed for the other door, deeper into the complex. “Any idea where Lemar went?”

“Not really,” Jack said, shrugging. “Since we had time off to recover, once his face began to heal he said he had something to take care of and bolted. I think he’s embarrassed that his skin isn’t as tough as he believed it was, and he never could handle a beating well. He’s still annoyed that D-Man almost beat him when they first met. But he’ll be back, he won’t let me down.”

“Fine, good to know,” Bludd said, rubbing his forehead. “Dennis left to go back to his underground city, I guess. Any chance he’s coming back?”

“I dunno,” Jack said. “He never really had an urge to be a super hero, really. I think he just got sucked up into Cap’s aura when they met, but the realities of this life hit him harder and sooner than I’m sure he expected. He’s found some peace and I say we let him have it.”

“Agreed,” Bludd said as they approached the door to the infirmary. “And Tigra never signed up officially, so we’ll just put a big question mark next to her… Anyway, have you ever met our new doctor?”

“Jane Foster?” Jack asked. “Can’t say I have. But she’s got…impressive friends, Jason. I’d watch my step if I were you. End up with a hammer in your colon if you don’t mind your manners.”

“Thanks for the tip,” Bludd said as he waved good-bye to Jack and approached the door. As it opened he was surprised at the scene before him. Standing in front of Firebird’s bed was a woman of medium build but striking features, who was just staring at the unconscious woman before her. Nurses and Dr. Strait, one of the lead physicians on the S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrier, who had been overseeing Firebird’s recovery, were staring at her, with Dr. Strait appearing very put out.

“What do you mean ‘stop all painkillers’?” he asked, his voice aghast at the very idea. “Her neck muscles are still incredibly inflamed and enlarged and we sill aren’t sure how her neck healed in the first place or how well her spine has come back together. It’s unconscionable to deny her access to the relief those provide!”

“They’re hindering her healing process,” Dr. Foster said, never turning her eyes from her new patient. “Haven’t you wondered, Doctor, why she hasn’t woken up yet?”

Dr. Strait appeared ready to launch into another tirade when Bludd stepped forward. “Please, Dr. Foster, explain.”

She turned this time and looked at Bludd before smiling warmly. “Her head was twisted completely around and yet she revived just a few minutes later with it still in that shape. After Tigra savagely yet efficiently reset the damage as best she was able, Bonita’s body began putting itself back together, using whatever process her altered genes use to accomplish such a remarkable feat.”

She paused and plucked Bonita’s chart from Strait’s hands and paged through the stack of history. “Once she got to sickbay, Dr. Strait did a passable job assisting in the resetting of bones and removal of any shrapnel that could have caused her problems later, but he also began stuffing her full of all kinds of drugs for pain, inflammation, infection, so on and so forth. My belief is that in Bonita’s case there is a law of diminishing returns with those sort of medications and now they’re just clogging her system.”

Dropping the chart back into holder at the end of the bed, she said, “If I’m right, within an hour of those drugs clearing her system, she’ll regain consciousness and within a few days be back on her feet.”

“Impossible!” Dr. Strait said, turning on Bludd. “Major, this is tantamount to torture and I can’t believe you would solicit, much less encourage, the advice of this emergency room stitch-artist!”

“Oh…blow it out your ass!” Foster said before Bludd could respond. “Listen to me, you judgmental little man, I may be an ER doctor and somehow less in your eyes, but I’ve had sex in Asgard and been desired by more than one god, so just imagine how impressed I am with you!”

The nurses in the room, many of them former S.H.I.E.L.D. med-techs known to Strait, covered their suddenly laughing faces and bolted from the room, unwilling to deal with Strait’s wrath or be seen blushing with jealousy at Foster’s proclamation. Strait just stood and sputtered while Bludd openly laughed. Before Strait could respond, Bludd put his hand up. “Dr. Foster, this is now your patient and we’ll try it your way. Dr. Strait,” he said, turning, “you are hereby relieved and free to return to the Helicarrier. Thank you for your service.”

Strait shook with anger and embarrassment and couldn’t help one last parting shot. “You’re going to kill one of them, Dr. Foster. Mark my words.”

Dr. Foster didn’t have a response to that and just stared at Strait until he was gone. Then she busied herself with removing all of Bonita’s IV lines and wiping her face with a cool cloth. “Thank you, Major, for your support.”

“Call me Jason, and you’ll have it until you do kill someone, Dr. Foster,” Bludd said, before turning and leaving.

Jane watched the door close behind him and she slumped down into the chair next to Firebird and rested her head in her hands. “Why the hell am I doing this to myself again?” she asked the empty, answer-less room. “With so little time left…”

“Try it now.”

In response to the words, a very slight mechanical hum could be heard and a purple arm made of metal slowly rose off of the workbench in front of Fabian Stankowitz and flexed. Four fingers and a thumb moved with clock-like precision and then the elbow bent and the hand folded up and rested on the elbow, which would have been painful for a human but the metallic marvel known as Machine Man was much more than human.

“How does it feel?” Fabian asked, sitting back and resting his hands on his protruding belly, happy as a pig in shit that he’d finally been able to lick the problem of building Machine Man a new arm. His problem, surprisingly, hadn’t been the extendable nature of the arm, but the basic joints and the channeling of commands from his computerized brain to the control mechanisms in the arm. It’d taken him a week, but he believed he’d finally licked the problem.

[It is…acceptable,] Machine Man said, extending his arm and moving it around in various actions, excited despite himself to feel whole once again, at least physically. [You have done exemplary work, Fabian. Thank you.]

“Well, I couldn’t have done it without those meticulous notebooks your friend kept on you. What did you say his name was again?”

[His name was Gears Garvin, and he was my best friend,] Machine Man replied, his mechanical voice sad.

“I’m sorry,” Fabian said, sensing there was something there that was haunting Machine Man but he didn’t pry. “So, have you thought about the Agent’s offer?”

[I have been considering it, yes,] Machine Man said, nodding. For someone with a largely immobile face, he conveyed a lot of layers with what he had to work with. [I believe it would be a good way to make up for some of what I have done…what was done with me. I have a lot of evil to make up for.]

“Hey, I’ve been there,” Fabian said, remembering briefly his old days as a robot-terrorist. “Coming here and working for Cap saved my life. I think Agent and the others can help you, and hopefully Cathy and Zach as well. Been a lot of losses here lately…do some good to get a few wins, you know?”

[Indeed,] Machine Man said, nodding.

“Plus, I have some ideas on protecting your system from intrusions by entities like the Machinesmith. Give me a week and I’ll have something for you,” Fabian said, nodding to himself and turning happily back to his workbench. Machine Man simply sat there on the examination table he’d been laying upon and thought about his future.

“Shit! Stand still!”

Laughter erupted from the chest of Julia Carpenter as she pinwheeled to the side and into a backflip to a handstand before pushing off into a 15-foot straight up arc that left her hanging upside down from the ceiling of the gym by her toes. She looked down at her opponent, the red-white-and-blue dressed Cathy Webster, the super-heroine in training known as Free Spirit, who was standing with her hands on her knees, gasping for breath. With her mask off, she wasn’t technically the Avenger known as Arachne, but Julia though in that mindset during these sparring sessions to keep her on her game.

“Oh, c’mon, Cathy, you can’t expect me to make it easy for you, can you?” she asked as she dropped to the ground lightly, bending at her knees and back to land almost flat against the floor before rising. “Where would the fun be in that?”

“At least I’d be hitting more than air,” Free Spirit said, standing and curling her hands into fists. “Not that I want to hurt you, Julia, but seriously, what is this teaching me? You’re way too fast for me to spar with.”

“Well…tough,” Julia said, shrugging. “What if our next foe is someone even faster than me? Are they going to slow down enough for you to be comfortable with fighting? Or are they going to ki…” Julia paused, rethinking her words. “Are they going to just attack with all their ability?”

“It’s okay,” Cathy said, wiping sweat from her head. “I know the score. We aren’t our best and we die, I got it.” Her face hardened and her eyes narrowed, her thoughts obviously turning to her recently deceased fiancé Jack Flagg who, along with Cathy, made an ill-advised attempt to rescue their friend Zach Moonhunter form the Resistants and being tortured nearly to death for their trouble. After being rescued, they were both dying and Jack sacrificed himself to the mutant healer Isaiah, a decent member of the Resistants, to save Cathy’s life…at the cost of his own.

It was a terrible burden for her to shoulder and the strain was obvious to everyone.

Julia held up her hands and began to circle Cathy. “Ok, hand to hand, then. What d’ya got?”

The blows came fast and furious and, spider speed or no, Julia was hard pressed to stay ahead of the younger woman, whose kicks and punches came like rifle shots, fast and deadly. Only her accelerated vision and incredible sense of kinesthesia kept her ahead of the blows, but she was impressed. “Cap must have taught you a lot of…oooooffff!”

Julia was interrupted mid-sentence as Cathy spun on a dime and slammed her in the stomach with a devastating back-kick, rocketing her off her feet and into the far wall, several meters away. Julia caught herself and instinctively flipped up the wall to avoid a second attack, but her mid-section was throbbing and her blood pumped and she was a split-second from encasing Free Spirit in a virtual cocoon of psi-webbing when her body finally settled and sense reestablished itself.

Cathy, for her part, was standing with both hands grasping her shoulder-length blonde hair with horror etched into her features, saying over and over, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” with tears welling in her eyes.

Julia dropped from the wall and carefully approached Cathy, her arms apart and a gentle smile on her face. “Hey, hey, it’s fine, I’m okay.” She stopped until she got Cathy to look into her eyes. “But why don’t you tell me what that was about, exactly.”

“I…I don’t want to talk about it,” Cathy said as she turned and bolted for the door. Only a quickly-forming psi-web across the door stopped her. She shook as she stood with her back to Julia and finally sighed and said, “I don’t want to talk about Steve, all right? I can’t handle it…now.” She controlled her emotions and turned, tears still streaming silently down her face. “Can I go?”

Julia whisked her web away and nodded, watching the tormented girl bolt from the room. She then walked over to the nearest wall panel and tapped in Major Bludd’s communicator code and, when he answered, she said, “I’ve completed my review.”

“And?”

“She needs to speak with someone about Jack Flagg…and Captain America. It’s obvious she’s got hard feelings towards him and, given his similarities to USAgent, this could be a serious problem in the field.” Rubbing her stomach she continued, “And make her take a physical with Dr. Foster…she is a lot stronger and faster than she should be.”

“So…should I call you Mister Walker, Sir, Jack…or Daddy?”

John Walker spit his peanut butter parfait all over the table.

Quickly wiping his face with a napkin, his cheeks as red as a baby’s ass, he sputtered, “What the hell?!?”

Rachel Carpenter giggled with the glee of a sociopath as she spooned more banana split into her mouth, her reddish-blonde hair falling over her eyes as she shook with laughter, snorting at the look of unbearable terror on his face. She licked her spoon clean and drove it back in for another scoop and said, “Just fuckin’ with ya, Jack. Calm down.”

His mind blown and his senses all out of whack, Jack took a long swig of his water and said, “Stop cursing!” He lowered his voice as he looked around the Cold Stone Creamery they sat in, growing nervous as the eyes of strangers turned toward them. “What’s wrong with you?”

“What? You just said hell? I should get to say the F-word then,” she said, smiling innocently. “What’re you going to do, tell my mom?”

“I…I…” Jack said, totally lost at sea. “No, are you crazy? She’d accuse me of negatively influencing you!” He stopped, his mind catching up to the situation. “Oh…nicely played.”

“I thought so,” Rachel said, slouching back in her chair. “It’s the best of both worlds, really. I get to be mommy’s little girl but with you I can be the other me, the one raised in the New York Public School system. Do you know how many new curse words I’ve learned this week alone?” Rachel sat forward, smiling widely, “Do you know what a ‘pink sock’ is?”

“Jesus!” Jack said, then burying his head into his hands. I’m going to hell…and I’m going to be single! he thought bitterly. “Ok, how about you treat me like your mom and pretend to be a normal fourteen-year-old girl who isn’t already a jaded cynic?”

“Ah, you’re no fun,” Rachel said, dropping her spoon and holding her sore stomach. “I was hoping to have a confidant…I mean, you are nailing my mom, right?”

“Of cour—” Jack began before catching himself. “We’re seeing each other, yes,” he said, smiling as he leaned back and crossed his arms. “Your mother is a wonderful, exciting and passionate woman who satisfies all of my…”

“OKAY!” Rachel said, slamming her hands over her ears. “You win! I can’t handle THAT!”

Jack chuckled as he began stacking their empty dishes. “So you do have a limit. Fair enough, I’ll be your sounding board for outrageous teen expression, but you stay spot on with your mother and never, ever, insinuate that I let you do any of this if you ever screw up and get caught.” Rachel laughed and picked up the tray, dumping it into the can next to the door as they left.

Walking down the street towards the brownstone, Rachel said, sadly, “I think you’re really good for my mom, Jack. She’s needed someone for a long time, ever since Force Works broke up and we moved around a lot. We were living with my grandparents…mom’s parents…for a while but she was chaffing under their questions and obvious dislike of her continuing to be Spider-Woman. I thought we’d put that behind us when we got away and back here…but I know it’s only temporary.”

“What do you mean?” Jack asked, confused. Julia had said nothing to him about any problems.

Rachel didn’t seem surprised that he didn’t know. “I guess she didn’t want to worry you, so you can’t tell her I told you…but my grandparents are coming in next week and want to have a ‘meeting’ with me and mom.” Rachel stopped at the corner and looked around the city and all the exciting possibilities. “And I was just starting to enjoy it here.”

“Rachel,” Jack said, putting a hand on her shoulder. “What are you trying to tell me? What are Julia’s parents coming here for?”

“Oh, I mainly meant my other grandparents,” Rachel said, “my dad’s parents. Mom’s side is coming too, but my Dad’s parents lost their patience with mom when she joined your new group. They’re suing her for custody of me in dad’s name since he was killed by super-human guys fighting the Avengers, saying I’m not safe and won’t grow up ‘normal’. And somehow they got Mom’s parents to back them up.

“Within a couple of months I’m probably not going to be living with my Mom any more.”

“Zach? Zach, honey, it’s me, Peggy. Can you open the door?”

Peggy Carter stood outside the closed door with the privacy lock enabled, holding a tray of food just as she had for the last two weeks, hoping that this time Zachary Moonhunter would relent and let her into his quarters. Since his debilitating injuries were sustained infiltrating the Resistants, and the resulting torture of Jack Flagg and Free Spirit leading to Jack’s terrible death, Zach had sunken into himself to a terrifying degree.

Peggy knew of post-traumatic stress syndrome; 50 years before it was coined for a pissing match in the desert, she’d seen boys as young as 15 destroyed in the most brutal war this world had ever known. Boys made to be men years before their time, forced to kill and claw and bite for every scrap of food, drink and breath they could find, all to stop a madman’s hateful purge across a far away land. It was a simpler yet crueler time, where even the poor treatment soldiers received today would have seemed like a wondrous boon to those of her generation.

And Peggy knew that Zach was crushed more than most, for not only had he sustained terrible injuries and felt he had failed his teammates, he also felt he had betrayed not only one of the best friends he’d ever made, the blind healer named Isaiah, but also quite possibly the woman of his dreams in the Resistants member named Mist Mistress, with whom he’d shared a passionate affair, one he had felt touch his heart like no other, yet one built completely on lies.

Now Isaiah was dead and Belinda was probably in a S.H.I.E.L.D. prison cell awaiting her sentencing as a conspirator to commit acts of treason against the government…and Zach Moonhunter may never be able to walk without leg braces and canes again. It broke Peggy’s heart to think about it.

So instead she did what she had done for over a week. She sat the food gently on the floor and knocked once more gently on the door. “I understand, Zach, and I’m sorry,” she said. Only this time, before turning and slowly walking away, she pulled a small fold of paper from her uniform and placed it carefully amongst the food before turning away.

Five minutes later the door cracked open just wide enough to let a pale, gaunt hand reach out and pick up the tray and bring it within the doors, which slid promptly shut. Inside, the room was nearly pitch black as Zach sat on the floor, having drug himself from the couch that had become like unto a womb for him and dug with a voracious hunger into the food, stopping only about halfway through when he caught sight of the note.

He picked it up and opened the fold and the food in his mouth turned unappetizing as he felt tears stream down his face. The note read:

“We love you and we miss you and we’re here to help you. Your Friends.”

And everyone working in the building, super-heroes and others alike, had signed it and one name in the center of the card, slightly smaller yet so much more vivid to his eyes, stood out. It was this name that finally cracked through the armor he’d built about himself since waking up in sickbay aboard the Helicarrier.

“Cathy Webster—Thank you for saving Jack and me.”

Bonita’s mind rolled as she tried to process what she was seeing and feeling, but she was overwhelmed by images of her friends and enemies and those she did not know, all coming fast and furious and she wanted so badly to reach up and hold her head but she couldn’t. Then a voice began, one she recognized as her own, and she started to fade back toward reality as the words spoke to her.

“The Leader will taste betrayal while the Weaver will be undone by love. The Spirit is crushed and lost, and the Hunter will lose his way. The Star will fade to white, the Robot to ruin and the Wrestler will be left behind. Be wary the Doctor who harbors secrets, but trust the Healer whose scars are known. Blood will be spilt as Serpents slide along the Bones…the Tinkerer and the Talker stand alone. The Dogs strike from the shadows, their wounds hidden and deep, and Faith will crumble before it is found. Beware the Mirror’s face, least it’s mask be revealed.”

“But Hope exists where the Heart Fire remains pure. Trust the Vagabond and those seeking redemption, for there is truth in what they say, and Salvation can be found in the Mist, but the fickle glint of the Jewel can cut both ways. It is always darkest before the Light, but not all will bask in the Dawn.”

Having almost completely retreated from the dream, Bonita did hear one last sentence, one that froze her bones.

“Fear not the Red…for it is the White that could destroy all.”

Author’s Notes

This story continues directly into Amazing Fantasy #18 – “If I Had Only Known”, detailing the struggles USAgent and Hawkeye have while hanging out the night following the events above. Be back here next issue for the beginning of the WALKABOUTS story, where each of our cast gets a moment of introspection before we move on to the next big mission…but that doesn’t mean a lot of big things don’t happen over the next few issues!

Some of Firebird’s predictions will become clear and some shocking revelations about our cast will be laid bare, especially USAgent, who gets a story running through every issue of WALKABOUTS, since it is his book. Expect special appearances by some unexpected stars, including a gentleman by the name of Axel Asher, Dr. Ashley Kafka and…USAgent 2.0????

Lastly, I want to thank everyone from the bottom of my heart for the Emmos nominations and wins over the last year’s worth of stories. It means more than I could ever say, and I hope your interest and enjoyment of USAgent continues for many more years to come. Also look for issues of Agent’s cast appearing in upcoming Amazing Fantasy andBring on the Bad Guys anthologies. And, as always, comments / suggestions / criticisms are always appreciated! Thank you again!

MC

 

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