Several, if not all his ribs fractured, his palms resting against the crown of his knees, Quicksilver fought to stand near the base of stairs sprawling into the Mercury Industrial facility. At the corner of the main building, wailing furiously into the dry Silicon Valley heat was a siren dancing in intermittent colors of red and white to the tune.

Behind Quiksilver were rows of dark brown vans emblazoned with the Mercury Industrial ‘M.I.’ logo. From these vans like tides crashing against a rocky beach came wave after wave of brown army fatigues into the lower level of the facility; the personal Mercury police force.

The police force seemed so intent on going inside that they had ignored Quicksilver as they rushed by him. That told Quiksilver that whatever had set off the alarm was still inside, which, itself made no sense. The call into the Avengers as relayed by Wonder Man asked for assistance in the apprehension and recovery of confidential military blueprints. If a thief had really wanted to get away with the blueprints, it would have made an escape already, especially if the report of the thief being invisible was true. The situation was sour and Quicksilver could smell it.

In a hobbled run, the speedster disappeared into the gaggle of brown vans, trying his best to disappear into the confusion. Nestled beyond the initial shield of vans and between a second row was the command outpost.

“The thief is just tossing over equipment and making a mess, it…” the voice over the radio was silenced; a wet grumble escaped the talking set of lips as the throat exploded, splashes of blood slapped the facility walls; all vividly replayed on the broadcast back to the outpost.

Clever, Quiksilver proclaimed; the snippet from inside helped him piece the situation together. The thief is waiting for someone, it’s waiting for…the Avengers. The distress call would not have been made to the Avengers by Mercury if the thief was still inside, they have their own force for that. The call was made by the thief itself.

Quicksilver halted near the last few vans on the outskirts of the facility grounds. What he needed had to be around somewhere. Making sure that he was out of sight Quicksilver jostled the door to one of the vans, locked. He jogged over to another van and tried another one of the doors, locked again. Damn, these guys are careful.

It was time to go to Plan B; Quicksilver glanced up at the Mercury Industrial weapons compound lost on the massive Silicon campus that held similarly drab factories and offices for software, household items and various other goods. He then felt his ribs; he fingered where the bone shield went concave, signal of the breaks. The pain was immense and his side burned. There wasn’t any time for pain.

One last look at the building, and the fleet-footed mutant disappeared in a rainbow of color that blazed up the side of the exterior wall. His body went sideways, ripped and clawed against gravity and Quicksilver tossed himself through a closed window on the third floor; the thin sheet of glass exploded and shards–like tiny diamonds–clattered down the hallway. He rolled headfirst across the sandpaper tough carpet of the third floor and laid out on his back. He only had a few minutes before the Mercury Industrial police force responded to the noise of the shattered window. he slowly and gingerly pulled up into a crouch, favoring his ribs. He tried the handle on a nearby office door as a place to hide, it was locked. A growing trend, and it was getting tired. Annoyed, Quicksilver used his finger and jabbed through the door knob with brutal, yet surgical speed and force; the knob popped cleanly through the back of the door; the lock crumbled to the floor and the door eased open with a groan. Quicksilver stepped inside the office and closed the door behind him.

In little over a minute a staccato of floorboards surrendered under the pressure of leather boots; a single member of the task force came to investigate the noise. He knelt to the carpet and picked up a few of the shards between his leather gloved fingers. He took a quick glance at the window, and then down the hallway. If Quicksilver was right, Mercury Industrial had many secrets they wanted to keep–these guys weren’t going to be chumps; former Rangers, Special Ops or SWAT. Not quite in the same league as Juggernaut, but not to be taken lightly.

The task force member pivoted off his knee and stalked down the hall, paying good attention to the carpet. Quicksilver knew what he was doing–following footsteps left in the weave–he wouldn’t have much time. He didn’t have any time; Mercury Industrial’s man found the obliterated door knob.

He kicked the shattered knob around playfully on the carpet and pulled a receiver from its holster on his shoulder. “This is Red 12; I’ve checked out the noise on Third Floor-West, it’s a shattered window with a break-and-entry in one of the offices. Don’t think it’s related to the other incident. Did you see anything out there Control?”

The button was released and the offices filled with the noise of static.

“Uh, no Red 12, we don’t have any activity out here,” Control responded.

“Copy. I’m gonna check the office, route some back up to the area.”

Red 12 ignored the M4 strapped to his back, choosing to take his sidearm into the closed quarters. He lead with the 9mm pistol and kicked in the office door swiftly. The small flashlight used under hid gun to steady the shot clicked on and illuminated the dark office. There was nothing immediately out of place; Red 12 stepped deeper into the office for a closer investigation. The cone of light sliced through the darkness back and forth past the computer tucked into the corner on the cheap plastic desk with rows of stacked reports like towers of Monopoly money in organized in and out bins. Red 12 loomed over the desk and rifled through the sheets with his free pinky; everything was in order. He then stepped around the desk to the computer; he smacked the spacebar and the little orange light toggled green and the black monitor yawned awake; no programs were left visible in the pop-up keychain and all system functions were locked with permissions.

“Strange,” Red 12 told himself, puzzled. He took another spin around the room with the flashlight. There were framed blueprints on the wall, a decorative vase of fake puffy vegetation that looked like moldy grey marshmallows speared with sticks read for roasting, a body, and slate neck-high file cabinets lined shoulder to shoulder. One of those things was not like the others.

“Boo,” Quicksilver joked, his presence being uncovered.

Red 12’s finger twitched at the trigger but Quicksilver quickly slapped at the pistol and the shot sailed wide, piercing deep into the almond drywall flesh silently through the attached silencer, he then juggled back with a fist to Red 12’s neck; there was a snap like a knock on a dull oak door and Red 12 slumped to his knees.

The pressure built up below Quicksilver’s ribs again like a balloon supersaturated with helium; the bruising suffocated nearby organs and flushed a flood of blood from his side that exploded through his lips.He threw his hands quickly to his face and went lightheaded, stumbling backward. When his eyes refocused, his palms and down the chest of his shirt was slick with a crimson mucous.

“Why in the hell did I sign up for this, again?” he asked himself before crouching over Red 12. He began to undo the kevlar vest and the brown uniform underneath, a wolf in sheep’s clothing. This was obviously a trap set for the Avengers. If the invisible thief wanted the Avengers for whatever reason, they weren’t going to get them, or, at least in appearance.

THE HARBINGER ENGINE

Part II: Rinse and Repeat

By Mike Rasbury and Dino Pollard

Laynia Petrova hated California.

The last time she had been here was when she served as a member of the Champions alongside Angel, Iceman, the Black Widow, Hercules and the Ghost Rider. That was some time ago. She had encountered the Champions while on a mission for the Russian government to bring the Black Widow back to her home country. Laynia had a change of heart and subsequently joined the Champions.

After they disbanded, she returned to Russia. As Darkstar, her powers are derived from an extradimensional energy source called the Darkforce. It allows her to fly, fire blasts of concussive energy and reshape it into forcefields. Since her departure from the Champions, Darkstar has spent her days as a member of the Winter Guard, Russia’s version of the Avengers.

She requested a leave of absence from the Winter Guard. California is not where she wanted to spend her vacation, but she felt it was necessary. There was a… disruption in the Darkforce, something Laynia couldn’t quite explain. But she followed it here to California and this was where the disturbance grew strongest.

Here, at the demonstration of a new prototype submarine. Laynia noted the sub was massive. Easily the size of a small island. Typical American attitude—bigger is always better for them. They always have to drive home the point that they have the largest set of brass balls on the planet. The creators boasted that the submarine could run for an eternity without refueling. A new energy source that could reduce dependency on fossil fuels, and the first application is for military purposes.

Laynia couldn’t hold the Americans completely accountable for that. She knew her own government would likely do the same. Most nations would, in fact. Rather than use cutting edge technology to benefit the world, leaders chose to use it to find new ways to destroy it. It seemed to be humanity’s nature.

Her senses suddenly spiked. She felt the disturbance in the Darkforce grow even more intense. It was here now, strong as ever. She pushed through the crowd of people, and as she approached the submarine, she felt the disturbance grow stronger. It was the submarine—the energy source they boasted. Somehow, someone had found a way to harness the Darkforce and use it as an energy source. That was the disturbance, the Darkforce was being misused.

But what could she do? There was no way she could simply attack or destroy the submarine. No, as a member of the Winter Guard, her actions spoke for all of Russia. Such a course of action would be seen as an act of war on the part of Russia. It would cause an international incident and that was the last thing anyone wanted. There was no choice, she felt she would just have to learn to live with the disturbance. Perhaps report back to her superiors, see if negotiations could take place.

Before she could further contemplate her next course of action, the submarine suddenly rocked. She moved closer and she saw that bubbles had appeared on the surface of the water. The sub was being pulled away from the dock. There was something down there, but she didn’t know what.

She shed her street clothes and beneath them was the formfitting black and white spandex that comprised her costume as Darkstar. Call her paranoid, but Laynia had a feeling she would need it.

She was right.

Quicksilver tapped the elevator call button and the stainless steel doors hissed open. Inside the elevator were the same cold steel walls. Flashes of red jumped silently across the narrow service elevator. This was the right place. Quicksilver waited for the skinny little doors to fold over another before searching the Mercury Industrial riot gear he lifted from Red 12. Attached to the chest harness-which looked like flex-kevlar suspenders–was a small silver knob that looked like a wine cork. The end of the knob opposite the small handle was hollow and formed a small circle with a jigsaw puzzle of prongs exposed. Quicksilver glanced over the panel of elevator controls for a hole that matched the knob’s pattern; below the buttons marked ‘1’ through ’12’ there was a groove that matched. Stiffly, and careful not to pressure his ribs, Quicksilver ripped the knob off the fastener and poked it into the groove, then turned it.

Quicksilver watched the number of floors fall from the LED readout above his head as the elevator moaned and craned downward. Before his mutantcy roused young Pietro Maximoff, he used to love the faux sense of weightlessness that occurs when an elevator begins descent. Super speed tends to dull those human sensations, makes them lame. The elevator kept dropping even as the number ‘1’ disappeared. It was likely that Mercury Industrial had several floors of parking garage but there would be no reason for a ‘service elevator’ to stop there; it went deeper.

When the elevator finally stopped and the doors slid slowly open the same skipping red colors from the elevator flooded inward from a small, dark shaft. Tucked to the walls lining the claustrophobic shaft were Mercury Industrial twins–all dressed like Red 12, and Quicksilver–semi-automatic rifles all drawn. Quicksilver slowly and cautiously stalked down the center of the shaft hoping not to draw attention from the rows of sentries who were tensely charged and ready to strike. His face was veiled by a thin brown neoprene hood that extended from an under-armor beneath his jacket and a custom black mask that was one part gas mask and one part flip down night vision goggles; state of the art. He wasn’t worried about being spotted as someone beside Red 12, rather, a break from formation or post would be a brighter red flag to the well trained security force.

“Hey, Red 12.” Quicksilver’s heart splashed into the fiery gastric stew of his stomach. He snapped towards the direction of the voice. Another guard dressed in the same uniform as him walked towards him. “You turn up anything with that disturbance?”

Quicksilver’s mind ran through his options. He could simply run past them and alert them to his presence, or he could try to get past them. If they could tell his voice wasn’t the same as Red 12’s, then under normal circumstances he could simply disable them before they could blink. But with his injuries, utilizing his powers to their full extent proved to be difficult. There was little choice he had at the moment.

“No, couldn’t find anything,” said Quicksilver. The guard shifted his gun and Quicksilver knew he suspected something. Pietro readied himself, prepared to move at a moment’s notice. Before he had the chance, there was a loud CRACK and the guard fell lifeless to the ground. The other guards in the hall brought their guns up and their heads turned, trying to determine the source of the attack.

Something else was in the corridor with them. Quicksilver lifted his own rifle, mimicking the stance of the other sentries. He watched as one by one, some invisible force moved through and quickly decimated each of the sentries with relative ease. The remaining sentries quickly opened fire, but they had no way of pinpointing the target. Friendly fire was exchanged and the bullets struck some of the other sentries. One by one, each of the sentries fell, until Quicksilver was the only one left standing in the shaft.

A lithe female form slowly came into view. The Asian woman had long, black hair tied behind her head in a bun. She was dressed from neck to toe in skintight black spandex and she held a black baton in her gloved hand. The baton rested on her right shoulder and there was a smirk on her lips when she laid eyes on Quicksilver.

“That uniform won’t fool anyone, your posture gives you away,” she said. Quicksilver pulled the gear free from his body.

“I don’t know what you’re doing here, but you’re not leaving,” he said.

“You’re not in a position to stop me, Avenger.”

“You sent the distress signal. Why?”

“I have my reasons,” she said.

“You won’t get past me, woman. I can move faster than you can even think.”

“Please, call me Kuroko,” she said. “And again, you’re not in a position to stop me.”

Long-range teleportation from the east coast to the west would be disorienting for many people. Particularly when the mode of transportation is via the Darkforce. Inside, one feels nothing but cold as they are transported through the dimension. But Tandy Bowen has experienced this type of transportation for quite some time. In her guise as Dagger, she’s become accustomed to it by now.

Her companion, Tyrone Johnson and herself left New Jersey earlier. Tyrone felt a disturbance in the Darkforce, which provided him with the source of his mutant abilities. The cloak he wore (and which he derived his name from) seemed alive. He could use it as a means of accessing the Darkforce dimension. The disturbance caused him to feel like he was being pulled. He wanted to come here alone, but Tandy insisted on accompanying him.

“Where are we?” she asked. Cloak took stock of his surroundings. He noted a copy of the Los Angeles Times on sale at a nearby newsstand.

“California.”

“So now what?” she asked. “Do you feel anything?”

“Yes,” he replied. “The disturbance is strong here, and I feel it pulling me closer.”

“What’s happening, Ty?”

“I wish I knew. I feel myself drawn towards the sea, though.”

Dagger’s hand reached out and grasped his.

“Then what are we waiting for?”

His cloak billowed out and closed around Dagger’s lithe form as she wrapped her arms around his body. He pulled the two of them into the Darkforce dimension. The cold was intense, but Dagger was willing to go through Hell for him. When the dimension released them from its icy grasp, Cloak’s cape opened and he and Dagger found themselves in the midst of a crowd standing on a harbor. There were television news crews and in the harbor was a massive submarine.

“What’s going on?” asked Dagger. She moved closer towards the crowd, but Cloak’s hand reached out and grabbed her wrist.

“Wait,” he said. “Don’t you think we’re a bit inconspicuous?”

“Relax Ty, this is California,” she said with a smile. The smile quickly faded again and she said, “do you feel anything here?”

Cloak closed his eyes and the snapped open a moment later. “There’s another Darkforce user here. And the disturbance is here as well. It’s coming from…” He pointed at the massive submarine. “…there.”

“But what is it?” she asked.

“Whatever it is, that’s the source of the disturbance.”

Kuroko vanished from sight, leaving Quicksilver at a loss. The invisible assailant moved on him, her baton striking him against his broken ribs. Quicksilver groaned in pain and tried to grab her, but found it impossible to get his hands on an attacker he couldn’t see. He next felt her baton strike him on the back of his head and then the baton struck his abdomen. He gritted his teeth and tried to block the pain from his mind.

She was fast, he had to give her that. Not as fast as him, but he had no way of detecting her presence. She also took advantage of his injuries, almost as if she knew exactly where to strike him. She was somehow connected to the attack on Fisherman’s Wharf, that much Quicksilver was certain of. But he doubted that she was the mastermind behind it and he knew it couldn’t be the Tri-Animan.

Instead of moving on the offensive, Quicksilver concentrated on defense. He moved as fast as he could, preventing Kuroko from getting a hit on him. He tried his best to remain in front of the doorway to block her escape. The only way out was behind him, so he knew that he at least stall her. He listened carefully and he heard a footfall. Quicksilver thrusted forward and his fist met an invisible block and Kuroko flickered into view as she stumbled back. She vanished once more and Quicksilver felt her baton strike him almost everywhere on his body at once. He moved his arms around his body at superspeed, trying to deflect the blows, but he couldn’t be everywhere at once, even at his speed. Some of her blows were able to get through. The ones that hit him continued to grow in frequency and the pain from his ribs intensified.

The baton struck behind his legs and he lost his balance. He fell to the ground and her baton slammed against his head. Blood leaked out from the corner of his mouth and his nose and bruises lined his body. A moment later, however, the blows ceased. Quicksilver brought himself to his feet and heard the elevator beginning to rise. He silently cursed himself for letting her get away, and contemplated his next course of action. Before he could form a plan, he heard the sound of the communicator in his pocket. He pulled it out and lifted it to his ear.

“Are you back together yet?” he asked.

{ Not quite, still working on it, } came the reply. Simon Williams, also called Wonder Man, was back at the Avengers West compound, busy trying to bring his ionic essence back into a corporeal form. { Any luck at Mercury? }

“It was an invisible thief named Kuroko,” said Quicksilver. “She was able to get past me.”

{ Hope you weren’t planning to take a breather. }

Quicksilver sighed. “What is it now?”

{ Our friend from Fisherman’s Wharf made it back to the shore. }

“Of course he did,” muttered Quicksilver. “This is not my day.”

The submarine rested on the surface of the Pacific Ocean. But beneath the waves is something else. The orange-skinned creature that swims beneath is Qnax. He is a stranger on Earth, coming from the planet known as Xantar. He was created through centuries of selective breeding, brought up to be the greatest warrior in the universe.

The alien also known as Amphibion was out of place here. He was being forced into this task against his will. He wanted to leave Earth, but found himself trapped here by his “master.” Regardless of his feelings on the matter, his arm had been twisted. He had a task to accomplish and he would.

He swam towards the massive submarine. Once he reached it, he grasped it with his hands and attempted to push it. The submarine’s humongous size made it nearly impossible to move. But this was a warrior who was able to hold his own against the force of the incredible Hulk. He pushed harder, with all his might, and the submarine began to rock from side to side. He increased his force and the submarine slowly moved. With initial movement accomplished, the rest was simple. Amphibion continued to exert force, pushing the sub away from the harbor.

The submarine suddenly faced a backstop. It froze in its position. Amphibion tried to exert more force, but it was useless. A black energy field surrounded the sub and prevented him from touching it. He slammed his fists against the forcefield, but they did nothing. He cast his eyes upwards and above the water, he saw someone hovering there. Amphibion allowed himself to sink further down into the sea. His feet touched the ocean floor and he lowered himself to his knees. Keeping his eyes fixed on the surface of the water, he used his leg muscles to spring his body upwards.

Amphibion shot out of the Pacific like a rocket. In the air above the ocean, Darkstar hovered, using her forcefield to prevent the sub from moving further. She herself was surrounded with a forcefield as well. Amphibion’s momentum easily brought him to her altitude and he slammed a massive fist against her. The force of impact sent Darkstar flying back to the harbor. She struck the ground hard.

Amphibion fell back into the water and sprung out again a moment later. This time, he struck the harbor and a small tremor followed. He approached Darkstar, who dazed, but otherwise unharmed from his attack. If not for her forcefield, she would not even be breathing. Amphibion wrapped his massive digits around her slender waist and lifted her into the air.

“My quarrel is not with you, human,” he said. Something struck his back, what felt like dozens of pinpricks. He turned his attention and saw Dagger standing behind him, her hands glowing brightly.

“Word of advice—if you don’t have a problem with someone, don’t go around sucker-punching them.”

Amphibion allowed Darkstar to slip from his grasp and he approached Dagger. He threw his fist forward and Dagger leapt over it. She brought her fists in close to her chest and then flung them outward, her fists opening and fingers spreading out. A flurry of light daggers erupted from her hands and struck the behemoth. Amphibion seemed to barely take notice of the attack.

He moved for another strike, but some sort of fabric wrapped around his arm and held it back. Cloak stood there, the tendrils of his cape working to try to encase Amphibion and pull him inside the Darkforce dimension. Amphibion allowed himself to be dragged a few inches, but then planted his feet firmly on the ground. Cloak tried to pull harder. Amphibion reached his hands out and grasped at the tendrils. He pulled hard and Cloak was yanked from the ground. Amphibion began to swing Cloak around and then released. The vigilante flew into the horizon.

“You shouldn’t have attacked. Amphibion turned his attention back to Dagger.

Before another step could be taken, a powerful concussive blast struck the back of his head.

Darkstar took to the skies again, her eyes glowing a dark blue color. A forcefield surrounded Darkstar’s body and the expression on her face was one of anger. She didn’t take kindly to being smacked around by anyone. She extended both hands forward, palms up and a blast of pure, Darkforce energy emanated. It was strong enough to catch Amphibion somewhat off balance. He pushed against the concussive force and closed in towards Darkstar. She attempted to increase the intensity of the blast, but nothing seemed able to slow Amphibion down.

Dagger moved back into the fight, hurling more of her projectiles at Amphibion. Again, the effect seemed to be completely beneath his notice. Amphibion crouched low and leapt into the air. He crashed back down on the ground and the tremors sent Dagger and other bystanders tumbling. Darkstar still remained in the air and she swooped low. She encased Amphibion in a force bubble and lifted him in the air.

Amphibion pounded against the bubble and with each strike, Darkstar felt her concentration waning. It was too much of a strain to maintain the hold on him, he was too strong for her. The bubble opened and Amphibion fell to the ground. He landed on his feet and leapt into the air again. Darkstar saw him coming towards her and tried to force him back with a concussive blast. It wouldn’t slow him down and Amphibion grabbed her leg, pulling her down to the ground with him. He looked at her, then tossed her aside.

His attention went back towards his task and he moved towards the water. Blackness suddenly appeared before him, and the blackness grew until it took the form of Cloak. He stood between Amphibion and the sea, his teeth gritted and his eyes glowing brightly.

“You again?” asked Amphibion.

“If you want the sub, you have to go through me,” said Cloak.

“Acceptable terms.” Amphibion cracked a smile.