Nice Guys Finish Last *HF*
By Hawkeye
Nice Guys Finish Last
Chapter 1
They’d been hunting him for half the night now. You would think that six against one would be no contest, but this guy was slipperier than they thought. It could be the fact that this guy knew Hell’s Kitchen like the back of his hand. It could be the fact that without Maul there, their tracking was not at it’s best. And maybe, just maybe, they shouldn’t have stopped at the bar first. Either way, the target kept eluding them. That is, until the chase led them to Jersey. Now they were on Marvel Girl’s turf. And she knew it. As soon as they crossed over, she took control of the mission. She had Loki grow some wings to get an aerial view, and Daemon and Scrib flanked off to cut the guy off should he try to backtrack. Byron and Faith were with Marvel Girl. The three telepaths could outmatch anyone, even someone as insane as Bullseye.
They weren’t even sure why Hawkeye had them after this guy, they just knew he wanted the assassin eliminated. It was the same deal with the MLF three weeks ago. It seemed Hawkeye declared a general war on crime lately. The problem was, crime didn’t want to go peacefully. When the MLF was captured, only two of them, Tempo and Wildside, survived to make it to prison. Marvel Girl was starting to wonder if Bullseye would join them in the slammer, or join the rest in the grave. She got her answer a lot sooner than she would have liked.
Just as Marvel Girl was getting a fix on Bullseye, a hubcap whizzed by her head. But before she could warn anyone of this, it banked off a streetlight, a building, and the street. It came back and took Faith’s head clean off. And Bullseye was nowhere in sight. Needless to say, the mission was turning into a clusterfuck. A quick telepathic message later, and Daemon was pissed. Unfortunately for Bullseye, Daemon saw him at about the same time. This was the second time since he joined the Grey Court that one of his teammates died on his watch. And he had enough. Getting Bullseye’s attention with the semi-automatic fire was only half the plan. Bullseye took off immediately, and ran straight into Loki, now taking the form of a Sabretooth Tiger. This did nothing for Bullseye’s state of mind, as he quickly turned and ran the other direction, right back into Daemon. And it was no other-dimensional sword in Bullseye’s future this time. Instead, he got an uppercut by a power elemental. When he landed, Daemon was ready for him. A quick twist at the neck, a yank, and suddenly Daemon was holding an adamantium spine in his hands.
“Heh. I guess there really is a lot of this stuff around, ain’t there?” Loki said, looking at the bloody metal. “ I bet Hawky will want that one on his wall.”
“Fuck that.” Daemon replied flatly. “In case you didn’t get Marvel Girl’s message, Faith is dead. Hawkeye’s gonna have our asses for that. And I’m keeping the spine.”
“Bad news boys” Scrib chimed in, finally reaching the scene. “Our fan club has arrived.”
“Aw, FUCK!” Daemon shouted. “I hate reporters.”
A little further west
All night long his heart was racing. He had finally his it big. 10 years as a super criminal and he’d never made a score like this. And it was all legal. Sure, earlier in the afternoon when he robbed the liquor store, that part could have landed him in jail, but since then he’d been on a winning streak like he’d never seen in his life. And to think, he was kicking himself as he sped away from the scene for not stealing anything to drink. Since then, his luck had finally turned. The clerk he robbed didn’t recognize him. He guessed all that time as a lackey didn’t make him famous after all. It’d be different if Magneto strolled in and robbed the place at gunpoint, but he was no Magneto.
And since the store was in the middle of the desert, he figured there was only one place to launder his money, and that place was Vegas. Hell, he might even make a buck or two from the deal. So it was off to the Sunset Strip. He cashed in the three grand he stole just hours before, and since then, he’d been having the time of his life. Sure, he lost most of it at the blackjack table, but he was smart enough to hold that last five hundred for the roulette wheel. And it paid off. That was five hours ago. Now, he had over two hundred and forty thousand dollars in his pocket and a new Dodge Viper to put it in. Yes, it was a good night indeed. In fact, he decided to partake in one of the other legal things in Vegas. Tonight, Toad was going to get some pussy.
And a lot farther east
He was about 3 months early for the gathering, but that was fine by him. He needed to learn about this planet, it’s champions, and their weaknesses before the combat approached. He especially wanted to learn about an individual known as the Hawkeye. After all, that’s who he would be defending his rank against. And he knew the Skrull homeworld would be watching. After all, as the fourth person on the winding way of the Chaos Elementals, he had much to gain. A shame the contests were only held every 50 years. It meant it would be another 150 years before he could be the first Skrull on the council. Providing the others survived, of course. He almost laughed at the thought. After all, he was J’org, and a Skrull. While desire to rule and sneakiness were his given traits, his sense of honor always prevented him from giving in to his baser instincts. He laughed out loud at the idea of it.
“Something funny?” a voice asked.
“No, I was just thinking too loud, I guess. Sorry if I bothered you.” J’org replied.
“Hmmm… nope, you didn’t bother me.” The voice answered. “I just never thought Skrulls knew how to laugh.” The voice answered.
“W-What?” He answered hesitantly. Humans weren’t supposed to tell Skrulls apart from themselves, after all.
“I see I have your attention.” The voice answered. That’s good. You are J’org, of the galactic Skrull empire, are you not? Well, even if you aren’t, my name is Chaos Bringer, a lowly chaos elemental, like yourself. Well, like you were.”
“What are you talking about, fool?” J’org answered back, annoyed.
“Simple. You’re up on the winding way. I’m not. But if you were to die, I’d be one place closer. And the guy paying me would be happier. A win-win situation. Except for you, because you’d be dead.” Chaos Bringer said as he shot the Skrull. “Damn. I hate it when I get green blood on my shoes.”
Chapter 2
New York
He hated this. It was different when he was new, but now he was the White Rook, not to mention the White King’s own cousin. And still he gets the shit jobs. This week it was postal duty. Basically, every day, SuperGrover made him go through the White Court’s mail, throw away the crap, file what matters, and leave the really important stuff on Grover’s desk. On the plus side, he got to read it all. On the minus, every day there was at least 10 pounds of mail. Okay, maybe the minus side and the plus weren’t much different, he thought, after skimming the latest photocopied Pentagon briefings, only 300 pages of techno-crap. Or maybe it was the letter from Bush stating that since he was President now, he no longer wanted to pay his membership dues. Right, like that would happen, he thought. After all, it was the White Court that got him elected. Or it could be that some Asylum character had been sending five letters every day this week asking to join. Mufasa just had the feeling that bad news was on the way. And he was right. Towards the bottom of the last stack was a summons from the State of New York, 8th circuit court. Mufasa knew the first 7 circuit courts were in Mike’s pocket, but the 8th? That was in Buffalo! He opened it up to see what this one was all about. “Holy fucking shit” Mufasa mumbled aloud. “Mike is gonna hit the fucking roof with this one”
Still New York
He paused before ringing the doorbell, unsure of whether to go through with it all or not. Sure, he used to live there, but can a person really come home again after so long, especially since everything there since he left was so different? He remembered the old days, the grand meetings with Gregor and Nemesis, Deadpool, Havok, Rashas, Silver, Siryn and Shockwave… but they were all gone now. Instead, he now had Darkwolf and Rogue to deal with. He wondered if they’d even remember his name. He rang the doorbell anyway. And he wasn’t surprised that the woman opening the door had a French maid outfit on, or that it was at least a size too small. Some things never do change.
“I’m here to see the Black King.” he said, as he considered dropping something on the floor, if only to watch her pick it up.
“You have an appointment?” She replied
“Yes, one I’m ten minutes late for.” He answered, just as flatly.
“Ah! Mr. Cannonball! I thought you looked familiar!” She said, giving the man a hug, and leading him off.
Cannonball grinned. This was going to be easier than he thought.
And across the river
“We’re live, at what appears to be another grizzly scene the new “heroes” as people call them, the Grey Court has created.”
“Mr. Daemon, do you care to comment on tonight’s activities?”
Daemon sighed, and turned around, his back to the reporters. He wasn’t in the mood for their shit. Unfortunately for them, one of them had to grab his arm and spin him around.
“Okay, you want a fucking comment? Take your hands off of me. There’s your comment.”
“Do you have any comments on the murders you and your new team of vigilantes are committing? People are afraid to leave their homes because of you monsters!” Another reporter shouted from the back of the crowd.
“Okay, that’s enough.” Daemon shouted. “Turn the fucking cameras on me. You rolling? Good. Now instead of repeating myself again and again to you stupid shitheads, every time you want to ask me a question, go find this fucking videotape and watch it. Question answered. First off, we happen to be doing you ungrateful cocksuckers a favor. You complain, and moan, and bitch every night about your “super-criminal” problem, and yet you praise the Fantastic Four and the Avengers because they put the assholes in jail. Guess what, Skippy? They never stay there, do they? They always break out, or their lawyers give them a loophole to run through, and before you know it, they’re on the street and the “heroes” get to catch them all over again. We’re taking care of that fucking problem. See this?” Daemon continued, shaking his newfound spine in the air, “This is fucking crime prevention. You can bet Bullseye’s not going to be a problem any more. And just maybe, it’ll send a message to other super powered people or even those that want to be. If you break the fucking laws, you’re gonna fucking die. Now, for you assholes…” Daemon kept continuing, looking directly at the reporters “You’re no better. The only reason you praise the damn Avengers is because they give you greedy douche bags ratings, and since the fuckers that keep trying take the world over always come back, you get more ratings. So you glorify that bullshit, because of job security. Well, I got news for you as well. You’re not any better than Bullseye over there. Except for one thing. He had an unbreakable spine. You don’t. And I still twisted his damn head off like you would a bottle of Tylenol. Now, just imagine for a second what I could do to any of you. Yeah, sort of makes you want to not piss me off, don’t it?”
And back In Vegas
Toad was having the time of his life. That’s the problem with looking like a damn frog and always being broke, he thought. It was hard to find any action. In fact, this was only the fourth time he had sex, and of the last three, two gave him crabs, and the other made the Blob look thin. But this girl he just had was hot. But that was all two minutes ago. Right now, she was convulsing like mad. Slowly, her features started to change. And before he knew it, the woman Toad just had sex with was a man. An angry man.
“That bitch!” Ryan Jensen exclaimed. It was something he’d been screaming to say for a month now. “I’m going to kill that fucking bitch!”
Toad promptly threw up.
Chapter 3
Back east – WAY east!
Chaos Bringer loved it. And honestly, the money wasn’t it. It was the fact that he got to kill people. And keep his new employer happy. That was also important, he guessed. But mainly, the killing. Especially Skrulls. For some reason, he never did like the little green guys. It was probably the smell. Sure, a Skrull can look however it likes, but it still smells like Skrull. And it tastes worse. Especially raw, Chaos Bringer remembered. That’s why he never played truth or dare anymore. The dares were killers.
At least the money was where it was supposed to be this time. His new employer liked to hide it from him. Must have been so they’d have to meet in person all the time, so the guy could weasel another job out of him. This time, however, he knew it was a two parter. And both big jobs. The new boss seemed to not like Elementals much, especially the Chaos variety. And that was damn fine by Chaos Bringer. By his count, he was now 23rd on the winding way. 24th, before that whole green blood on the shoes thing. And in about two days, he planned on being 22nd. Luckily for him, the new boss left some instructions for this hit, always a plus when trying to kill a god. Not so lucky was the fact that while Chaos Bringer got the half a million promised, it was rupees, not American dollars. Definitely needed to ask the new boss about that one.
And speaking of the little devil, it was almost time to meet. As Chaos Bringer got to the bar (he wondered why all his important appointments and life decisions took place about three feet from loads of alcohol), he decided to play the jukebox. After all, the new boss hated rock music, and given the locality of it all, he had an urge. Minutes later, the normal sounds of a busy bar took a back seat to K-K-K-K- K-K-Katmandu, sung as loud as Chaos Bringer could manage. And only three empty bottles connected with his head this time.
New York, again,
SuperGrover wasn’t pissed off. Nope, not one bit. Pissed off was 10 minutes ago. This was more a case of unbridled, break stuff you like, just because it’s there all while screaming at the top of your lungs wrath. Now he knew why Mufasa was in such a hurry to get the hell out of there after dropping mail off. He would have too, if he were Khalid.
You see, some things just weren’t questioned in New York. The Dodgers sucked ever since leaving Brooklyn, The cockroaches always outlasted the rats, Dick Clark was there every New Year’s, and no one ever fucked with the White King. Ever. And now, SuperGrover has a day in court for custody of his own son, and what worse was well, two things made it worse. Number one was the fact that the court was in Buffalo, where Jen grew up and SuperGrover didn’t have the judge in his pocket, and the other was the Plaintiff. Granted, he never knew Hawkeye that long, but he was a fellow king in the Hellfire courts, and there was a damn code to follow here. And what the hell grounds did Hawkeye have for taking Christian away anyway? Sure, the statement mentioned the Superhero thing, the recent possession, etc, but why Hawkeye? It’s the one thing that bothered SuperGrover the most. Okay, the fact that no one in the Grey Court, INCLUDING Daemon, knew anything about it or even where Hawkeye was, that bothered him the most right now. But what did help is what SuperGrover knew of Hawkeye. And that’s why SuperGrover left for Buffalo to go bar hopping. After all, how hard is it to spot a masked human Juggernaut when he’s drunk and in Buffalo?
Chapter 4
"Now remember what I told you," Scrib said to Daemon.
He glared at her in response.
"I know, I know. I just thought…. Well, forewarned is forearmed right?"
"You just stick to the plan and leave the rest to me," he replied.
The doorbell rang cutting short any further discussion on the topic at hand. Scrib jumped from her seat and ran to open the door.
"SAM! You're finally here!"
"Tracy!" they greeted each other with a warm embrace.
"Come in, come in,"
Echo accepted the offer and stepped into the hallway pausing to admire the architecture. She turned back toward the door just as Tracy started to close it and reached out to stop her.
"Come in," Sam echoed.
"I'm sorry," Tracy said as she saw the woman that had accompanied Sam. "I didn't see you standing there."
"That's alright Tracy, I'm used to it. I'm …."
"BobbiTodd, Chercheur. Of course, I should have realized. We've spoken on the phone. You're Sam's assistant right?"
"And my friend," Samantha interrupted.
"Well, both of you, come on in. I'm afraid most of the team is out right now, but Daemon is in his office. We'll get the introductions out of the way and I'll show you around. Then we can get down to some fun!"
As timid a woman as Chercheur is, she found young Tracy's enthusiasm contagious.
When the ladies entered his office, Gabe was busy looking at the papers on his desk, searching through them for one he couldn't find.
"Be with you in a moment," he muttered. "Damn, it was here a minute ago."
"So your friend has…" , Daemon started as he looked up from his desk, nodding at Scrib for a second. Then his gaze froze on the woman that stood beside her. He gulped trying to clear the obstruction that seemed to have blocked the words in his throat. He hesitated only a moment recovering quickly.
"…finally arrived," he finished a few seconds later. "I see what you mean Scrib," he continued still staring at the brunette. He stood and offered his hand. Samantha stepped forward to take it.
"So you're Echo. I'm…," he paused as though his own name had suddenly escaped him.
Tracy bit back the smile that was aching to reach her lips as she watched the usually ultra cool Grey Bishop turn to mush. She had tried to warn him.
"Sam, this is Gabe, but we call him Daemon. Daemon, this is Samantha Lo…"
Scrib was interrupted by the woman that stood forgotten in the background.
"Samantha Wolfe," she inserted.
"Wolfe?" Tracy was obviously confused by the name changed.
Echo nodded blushing, as Daemon continued to hold her hand in his own. Finally he moved, raising her hand to his lips. He released it almost reluctantly and looked back at his desk. She joined her friends and looked around the room. Her eyes rested on the adamantium spine that hung like a trophy on the wall. For an instant she felt her heart stop beating, until she realized it wasn't an entire skeleton. Daemon mistook her interest for admiration of his latest prize.
"Yes, that's a little something I tore out of Bullseye. Makes quite a statement doesn't it?"
Bullseye. Of course. Relax Sam. You know he's fine.
"… quite a statement," she echoed. It was a relief to be around people that she could echo in front of.
She turned to her assistant and was rewarded with a knowing smile. Gabe followed her glance and was surprised to realize there was a third woman in his office. He hadn't even been aware of her presence.
Scrib realized the oversight she had made.
"This is Sam's assistant, BobbiTodd, or Chercheur. Though I believe Sam calls her Cici."
The mousy woman stepped forward timidly to greet Gabe. He shook her hand.
"Chercheur? The Researcher?"
"Yes, I um… well, I find things."
"Don't suppose you could help me find…"
Before he could finish the thought, she reached into the pile of papers scattered haphazardly across his desk and pulled out a single sheet.
"This?" she said handing it to him.
"How'd you… never mind. Thanks."
"Well Gabe, we'll leave you to your work. I'm gonna show them around and then maybe we'll relax by the pool," Tracy turned to her friend. "So how long can you stay? You should consider staying permanently you know."
She ushered them out of the office, turning back with a wink at Daemon who returned it with a smile. She continued her diatribe on the wonders of the Grey Court as she gave them a tour of the facilities. They lingered in the stables for quite a while as Sam admired the horses that they kept. It had been a long time since she'd had a place to call home. If things had turned out differently…. But they hadn't. She knew life would work out as it would. Perhaps it was time to put down roots again, buy another horse she could train and enjoy riding again. She was lost in her thoughts as they returned to the mansion.
Some time later the ladies were relaxing by the pool after their swim, enjoying Margaritas. Chercheur sipped hers slowly while Scrib and Echo seemed to be constantly in need of refills. Loki had stopped by and entertained them with his antics for a time. Sam and Cici took an instant liking to the young man. Scrib continued her sales pitch obviously intent on convincing them to join her as members of the team.
Gabe looked up from his work and glanced at his watch. He smiled as he made his way to the pool. He wasn't going to mind this job one bit. Of course if he succeeded, Sharon might be annoyed. Still, he figured he could explain the latest addition to the team as integral for her talents, not her looks. Besides a jealous girlfriend isn't always such a bad thing. He opened the door that led to the pool and froze at the sight. He knew she was beautiful but he hadn't prepared himself for the sight of her in a swimsuit. Her blue and white bikini managed to show off her considerable assets quite nicely. Despite her short height, her legs seemed to go on forever. He considered backing away and rethinking the plan. Not only would Sharon have trouble trusting him around her, he wasn't sure he could trust himself either.
Still, her unique talent would come in quite handy, as would her training. The team needed her and whether or not she knew it yet, she needed them too. For the team he told himself as he gulped back his doubts and stepped forward to greet the ladies.
Samantha glanced at her friends when he asked to speak to her alone. Tracy reassured her with a smile, barely lopsided despite the large amount of tequila she'd consumed. Cici raised an eyebrow in silent inquiry asking if she should insist on joining her. Sam glanced back to the handsome black man that had requested her presence in his office. Something in his smile and his eyes helped her decide. He was a man of honour and she trusted him instinctively. She looked back at Cici who was now sitting up, ready to join her. With the slightest movement of her head Sam told her to stay where she was.
A few minutes later she was fully dressed and sitting in Daemon's office. He wasn't sure if he was relieved or disappointed that she had insisted on dressing before meeting with him. He let his professional side take over as he tried to avoid staring at her.
"I'd like to offer you a position in the Grey Court," he got straight to the point. "Scrib has told us about you and recommended you quite highly. I've done some research on my own. I know who you are, who she is to you, where you've been. I even know what you wear around your neck and why."
She grasped the tags that she never removed, her concern evident in her eyes.
"Don't worry, your secrets are safe with me."
She relaxed slightly at the honesty in his voice.
"My point is that what we offer is an opportunity to be close to your daughter. To keep an eye on her, if you will. While helping a greater cause. You have seen our facilities and know what we can offer you. As I said, I already know what you can offer us."
He had to fight against the smile as he said that. She would undoubtedly not take kindly to such references.
"Cici," she responded.
"Your assistant. Yes, well… though I wasn't prepared for her arrival today, I think it's safe to say that, with her gifts, we would be more than happy to find a position for her as well. So, do we have a deal?"
"Not by a long shot," she replied, echoing a voice he didn't recognize. She leaned forward and helped herself to a pen and a notepad. He waited as she wrote, biting back the urge to ask what she thought she was doing. He was a man that was used to getting his way but considered himself a good judge of character. He had learned to trust his instincts. So he waited. Finally, she paused as though deciding if she'd forgotten anything. Satisfied at last, she handed him back the paper and pen.
"Your demands?" he asked as he scanned the list.
She shrugged and then nodded her head just once. He read the list carefully, weighing his options. None of the things on it seemed too preposterous. He fought against the knowledge that he would be prepared to grant the sun, the moon and the stars if that's what it would take.
"Well, the beer and coffee won't be a problem. We have trucks of beer delivered for our King regularly. We can double the order for that, and for the coffee. The living arrangements will take some reworking, but I think we can find you a room with an eastern exposure. We have an extensive collection of music for you to enjoy and several instruments. Plenty of room in our training area for you to dance or exercise or whatever. Work out whenever you like. Of course you are free to work with the horses as much as you want. You can add as many as you like to our stable. Internet, computer access, for Cici as well. Not a problem. I anticipated that you would want an "instant out" clause. Considering your circumstances. The dog, however… Well, my concern is that it might start a trend. However, it's not unheard of for other courts to have a mascot. Perhaps we can work around it that way. The other items on your list shouldn't be a problem. I understand the need for outside interests. In fact I run a corporation of my own. I can agree to all of these. So…."
"…do we have a deal?" she repeated his question.
"We have a deal. May I be the first to welcome you to the Grey Court, Echo."
Chapter 5
New York
There was one thing about the new BHC that Cannonball hated from the moment he walked down the living area of the mansion. And that was the music, or more precisely, the sheer volume they played it at, trying to drown each other out. Darkwolf had Everlast playing constantly, with Rogue, it was Bare Naked Ladies, and a little farther down the hall, there was Rune’s Stone Temple Pilots and Outburst’s No Doubt. Cannonball instantly understood why Greg lived in a sound proof room. Even with 20% of his hearing intact, Cannonball found it all annoying as hell. At least he wasn’t planning on staying long.
The meeting with Darkwolf went even better than he planned. It was nice to be welcomed back with open arms, and even nicer to get exactly what he wanted out of the deal. Cannonball was now the Black Dragoon, and in charge of mansion security, as well as communications. It’s a wonder what some fake transcripts and a few well-placed phone calls can do for a guy and the job couldn’t have been more perfect. Cannonball now had free reign of the mansion. And every time a video camera went up, every time a message came in, and every time a message went out, Cannonball knew about it, watched it, heard it, logged it, and sent it along to the BHC archives. That was his job after all. The fact that each of those things also went to Europe to be watched, heard, logged, and plotted against, well, that was Cannonball’s little secret. He’d been having a lot of those ever since he died in Vegas.
Speaking of Las Vegas
“That’s offensive.” Ryan Jensen said, staring at the green mass of Toad puke on the floor. “I know I was better than that.” Toad threw up again. This was obviously no longer his night.
“Oh, come on!” Jensen almost yelled at the pale mutant. “Clean that up and.. wait.” He paused, noticing for the first time Toad’s tongue which was hanging three feet out of his mouth. “You’re a mutant, aren’t you? I have need for a mutant. Tell me, Mr…”
“Toynbee” Toad said, not making anything even remotely resembling eye contact.
“Toynbee.” Ryan said, thinking. “You mean I fucked Toad? Gross!”
“Hey now!” Toad cut in. “It’s not like I knew you were some freaky old guy!” Toad stopped for a moment, nearly throwing up again.
“Listen, there’s no need to insult me. I’m more powerful than even Magneto’s lackey could imagine. Now, what I’m going to do is put some clothes on, and then I’m going to offer you a position in the Red Court. You can take it, or you can die. Your choice, of course. And should you decide to run, I’ll assume you chose the latter. Should you stay, we’ll discuss the terms enroute to New York. I have some business with some vampires that’s I’m late for.
And in Katmandu
It was a good thing for the locals that Chaos Bringer didn’t really mind having beer bottles thrown at him. Of course, the locals thought it was a good thing when the odd looking cloaked man came in and pulled him out. That was 20 minutes ago, now Chaos Bringer was in a dark alley, getting instructions for the next hit.
“Hey man, what’s with the half million rupees shit you pulled for the Skrull?” Chaos asked.
“Well, you do realize I always pay in local currency, don’t you? It’s not my fault you didn’t drag him off to somewhere with a better exchange rate before you killed him.” The cloaked figure responded.
“Whatever, I didn’t do it for the money, really anyway. What is that, anyway, fifteen cents American? It doesn’t matter. What’s next?”
“You already know what’s next. All part of the two-part deal we made. I’m just here to make sure you kill the right one. Now stop being a fool and listen.”
“Who’s the fool, the fool, or the fool that pays the fool to kill the other fool? And what’s so big about a little mutant? What makes this Loki so tough, other than his ties to the Hellfire Club?” Chaos Bringer asked.
“You see, I knew you’d mess it up, either due to your mental shortcomings or the alcohol you tend to enhance them with. I don’t want the mutant dead. I want you to kill the Norse god, Loki. And here’s how.” The cloaked figure said, as they walked off to somewhere quieter.
Chapter 6
Mike Norris was having a bad day. Not the worst day of his life, by any means, but a bad day no less. It was raining, it was Tuesday, and the bars were all dead. That was supposed to make looking for Hawkeye easier, but it wasn’t. Finally, by bar number 36, he decided to actually stop and have a drink. After all, it was last call, and he figured Hawkeye was nowhere to be seen. The whole mess would have to wait another day. Besides, SuperGrover was having too much fun at the moment thinking of new and interesting ways to beat the shit out of Hawkeye.
And as he sat there and ordered his strawberry margarita, he noticed something odd. At the back table, the one that was empty when he walked in, a man was seated, eyeing him at the bar. The odd part was the door never opened, and this guy was completely dry. Of course, with Supergrover’s luck, that meant Hellgoat. It usually did. But much to his surprise, it was Mischance. And her never sees Mischance unless it’s big.
“So, you gonna sit there and stare at me all night, or are we gonna talk?” Mischance asked.
“Why?” Mike responded. “Time Elemental running late for something?”
“Funny. I figured I owed you one from about three years ago. Lucky me, I have a tendency to know when to return favors.” Mischance said.
Mike thought about it for a minute. “So, considering you know I’d be at a bar in Buffalo, you probably know what’s up. I take your going to tell me where Hawkeye is so I can settle this with him?”
“Heh, if I knew, things would be different. Hawkeye’s an Elemental, too, you know, and not an easy one to keep track of.” Mischance quipped. “Besides, you know the story, hundreds of timelines, etc, etc.”
“He’s Elemental?”
Yes, a Chaos Elemental, a few notches below Hellgoat if memory serves. But that’s not the point.”
“Right. The point is, that asshole is trying to take my son from me. And after all the shit I’ve just been through, and he’s just been through, neither one of us need it. And if your not going to tell me where Hawkeye is, what the hell are you here for?”
“Simple. Information. Now, you can either get all huffy with me, or you can sit down, shut up and keep your son. As it stands right now, you have about two weeks left with him.” Mischance said, grinning as usual with him.
SuperGrover sat down. “Okay. You have my attention. What’s Hawkeye up to?”
“The same thing Hawkeye’s always been up to” Mischance answered. “He’s trying to be a power on this planet. A major one. And he might pull it off this time. He sees the Ascended One as a means to that power, but there’s more to it than that. He’s been a little more… proactive in the search than Gomurr or the Illuminati.”
“What do you mean by that?” SuperGrover asked, tensing up slightly.
“Oh, that’s right, she never knew, so neither would you. Hawkeye is Jen Larue’s father, and Christian’s grandfather. That’s how he’ll win custody unless he gets whatever it is he wants from you.” Mischance said, the usual grin disappearing from his face.
“MotherFucker!” SuperGrover gasped. “And what if it’s Christian he wants from me?”
“Then you have a problem. However, given what you know of Jen’s childhood, you should win the first few rounds. Watch out, though. Hawkeye has more influence than you’d think. And courts usually throw children in foster homes when the civil suit drags on long enough.”
“Thanks,” SuperGrover said sarcastically, until he noticed Mischance was already gone. He hated when Mischance did that. He spent the rest of the night, wandering Buffalo, thinking of what Mischance told him, and one question kept sitting in his mind. If Hawkeye was Jen’s father, then who was the mother?
Chapter 7
At the Grey Hellfire Club in Rome
“Lets get this over with, shall we? There’s a bottle of rum that has Loki written on it sitting in my room, and I don’t want to be a bad host to such honored company.” Loki said with a grin.
“Love to.” Hawkeye replied. “After the debacle in Hell’s Kitchen, nice rant to the cameras, by the way, Gabe, it’s fairly clear that some teamwork issues need to be addressed. I’d rather not have any more of my little soldiers be killed.”
“Well, the stars are aligned tonight, and Hawkeye’s still an asshole.” Maul retorted near the back of the room. “If you’re done posturing, can we get on with this? Loki’s not the only one with other priorities here, ya know”
“Yes, Maul has a point. You gonna do anything besides put us down tonight?” Byron asked.
“I’m getting to that.” Hawkeye responded flatly. “First up are some roster changes. Maul’s asked for, and granted a leave from the team to take care of some personal matters. Faith is obviously dead, and we have some new members. Please meet Echo, Chercheur, and MartinBlank. They’ll be in the Outer Circle with Loki for the time being. Any questions?”
“Yeah.” Daemon asked first. “Who the fuck is MartinBlank?”
“A first rate hacker trapped in a teen’s body.” Hawkeye answered. “But do not underestimate him. Given my resources, he’ll do quite well for himself, and help us a great deal.”
“Okay, then why the fuck is Loki in the Outer Circle? With Maul taking a leave, Loki should be the Knight” Daemon asked further.
“Loki asked me himself to demoted. He feels that with his limited powers, he needs more training. Frankly, I agree.” Hawkeye answered. “Got another one Gabe?”
“Yes, I do. Why the fuck didn’t you tell me about either one of them? I’m the fucking Bishop, I’m supposed to know things before they happen here.” Gabe asked.
“You were the Bishop, Gabe. But, given the fiasco you led in New York, I have no other choice than to relive you of that position. Maul will be Bishop once he returns. Until that time, Grey Bishop will remain vacant.” Hawkeye answered coldly.
“You’re fucking booting me down to Knight? Fuck this. Either you tell me what the fuck’s going on, or I’m out of here.” Daemon yelled at Hawkeye.
“Calm yourself. Scrib is the new Grey Knight. Byron remains Grey Rook. And you, Gabe are now the Grey King. I have some ugly business to attend to, and I doubt that any of you would want part of it. Run the team as you see fit, Grey King. Just remember whose house you’re living in.” Hawkeye said, and then suddenly blinked out of sight.
The room stood silent for a minute. Scrib was the first to say anything.
“Well. That was dramatic. Teleporter?” She asked.
“Nope”, came a new voice. “A young voice. That was a little holograph I rigged up for him. I know, I know. I look like a 12-year-old. But, any of you got some rum? It’s been a weird week.” MartinBlank said.
“Come with me!” Loki said. “Time to get shitfaced, sonny!”
“Time to get shitfaced” came an echo from the hallway.
“Yeah, As my first act as Grey King, I order you all to get a hangover by morning. We’ll start fresh Monday.” Daemon said, giving a wink to Echo. Echo grinned back.
Chapter 8
Somewhere in Norway
He had a long list of things to do on Midgard before Rangarok , and it seemed the harder he worked towards it, the farther behind he got. Top on that list was humiliating those damn Avengers for thwarting him and making his hated step-brother into a damned hero. There was also the business with that mercenary do deal with, and Hulk as well, just for fun.
So, Loki came here, to contemplate. It was secluded, quiet, almost home to him. The only problem this time, is that the house he set up in the Norse wilderness was burned to the ground. In the place of it, stood a slender man, wearing a parka and grinning like a fool.
“Loki, I presume?” The man asked?
“What is the meaning of this? Answer quickly, or thou shalt die a death most foul!” Loki answered.
“Not one for idle chit-chat, I see” The man answered. “Good! I’m on a schedule today. My name is Chaos Bringer. I’m a Chaos Elemental, as you’d no doubt guess. 23rd on the winding way. 22nd after I kill you today, and my boss will have a one less threat to his reign as THE Chaos Elemental.”
“Raphael is still sending boys to do his work, eh? What makes thou think that thou shalt succeed where so many others have found naught but failure?” Loki asked, toying with the man, and taking his measure at the same time. “What makes thou think he can destroy a god?”
“First off, Skippy. You are not a god. You’re a frost giant adopted by the gods. As for how you’ll die, does this look familiar to you?” Chaos Bringer said as he produced a large, familiar looking hammer from his parka. “Let’s dance, shall we?”
Back in New York, specifically JFK Airport
Toad looked around nervously. So far, the plan was not working. He wondered briefly is Ryan was on to him, just toying around. After all, this was the Flesh Elemental, if he checked Toad’s DNA, the mission would be severely fucked. It was a good thing Ryan’s ego usually preceded him by a good yard.
His orders were simple. While Ryan did whatever it was he needed vampires for, Toad was to wait for some English man who was to be the new Red Knight. Or Bishop. Or something. Toad hardly cared. He was busy scanning the crowd for someone else. And when he was about to give up, his contact showed.
“Over here, Mort.” Cannonball said.
“Ah, there you are.” Toad said. “Hold your end up?”
“To the letter. Yourself?” Cannonball answered.
“Not yet. Haven’t even been to the mansion. Ryan reverted right on schedule, and was immediately off to meet some vampires. You know what that means.”
“Yep. No wonder Maul wanted a leave. Well, since I’m done and you’re not, you have the honors.”
Toad nodded and quickly scanned the crowd while he put one arm on Cannonball’s shoulder. Seeing no one, he quickly absorbed Cannonball into him. The usual flood of memories poured into him as Toad turned and continued to wait for what’s his name. “God, I hate Bare Naked Ladies” he thought to himself.
And while he watched the gate, he never realized he himself was being watched.
“Well, that was interesting, wasn’t it, brother?” Looks like our little spy isn’t what we thought after all.”
“Nope. But I think I recognized that particular power. I thought you told me he died.”
“He did. Looks like we’ll have to kill him again. No one, other than us, infiltrates the Black Hellfire Court and lives.”
“Especially that fucking Madrox asshole. Time he learns to mind his own business.”
“And disguising himself as the Toad? An obvious insult to our father. Come, Hazard, we have some planning to do.”
“Call me Jetfire, Avski.”
“God, I wish you’d pick a fucking name and be done with it. And stop calling me that.”
And in Buffalo
As SuperGrover got to his hotel room, he found something that surprised him. Laying there, neatly on his bed was an envelope. Inside, he saw a note, and a plane ticket. The note was extremely to the point. It read: “Have I got your attention yet? – Hawkeye” The ticket was for Oslo. SuperGrover left by the window, and was in New York 15 minutes later. Toad grinned at him as SuperGrover went through the terminal gate. This was all working perfectly.
Chapter 9
“Mjolnir?” Loki asked Chaos Bringer rather stunned. “But, surely thou are not worthy to hold that”
“You like it? I bought it at one of those Avenger’s stores. 25 bucks it was. Anyway, that’s not what’s going to kill you. This is.” Chaos Bringer said, holding up a rather large red stone. “I call this beauty the Crimson Gem of the Cyttorak. Makes me rather… unstoppable.”
“But, surely thou can not have that. Unless you’ve slain Hawkeye, who held it last I saw him.”
“Fool. I am Hawkeye.” Chaos Bringer said, removing the Parka and revealing himself. “You’re Number 2 on the old winding way, I’m number 4, after that business with the Skrull. You’re in my way.”
“But, what of Raphael?” Loki asked, buying himself time to think of a way to deal with this new threat.
“Hellgoat? He’ll get his. Until then, if I can, if you’ll pardon the expression, dupe him into paying me for this, I’m sure the God of Lies can appreciate that.” Hawkeye said, gabbing the gem from it’s chain and becoming massive.
“And as the Trickster God, you might also like this trick of mine.” Hawkeye said, as he pounded his fists together.
Standing in front of Loki now was two huge Hawkeyes. They pounded their fists together, and there was four. They pounded their fists together, and Loki never stood a chance. As Hawkeye merged himself back together, he said flatly to what was left of Loki “Besides, there’s a new Loki now, and I like him better.”
30 minutes later, in Oslo
SuperGrover was not used to being stood up. By the tone of the note he received, he had thought Hawkeye would be waiting for him at the airport. 20 minutes later, Hawkeye showed. In full uniform, sans the Juggernaut bulk, no less.
“Give me one reason not to kill you right now” He said, as Hawkeye motioned him towards the bar.
“A superhero battle, in the middle of a crowded airport? I thought you were working on improving your public opinion, Mike, I doubt fighting me here would help that. 20 innocents would probably die.” Hawkeye answered back.
“You’re an asshole, you know that?” SuperGrover said, sitting down.
“So I’ve been told a time or two. I’m guessing Mischance talked to you?” Hawkeye said.
“That none of your damn business. You called me here. Talk.” SuperGrover answered coldly.
“I’ll take that as a yes. If it calms you down, I’m not going to take your son if you co-operate. What I want is a position in the White Court. Outer Circle.”
“For what reason?”
“In a few months, the Hellions Headmaster will resign. Once that happens, you and Daemon will need to fill that post. Having recently served in both courts, I’d be the ideal choice.”
“Two questions. What the fuck does Gabe have to do with this, and what do you want with the Hellions?”
“Number 1, Daemon is the Grey King. Your Equal. Number 2, not long from now I’ll have family on that squad, and I want to keep them close. Out of harms way, you know.”
“Christian will never be a Hellion under your watch. You know that, right?”
“Who was talking about him? Now, do we have a deal?”
“One more question. If you are Jen’s father, as you claim, who is Jen’s mother?”
“Inquisitive, aren’t you? If you must know, her name is Uriel. I believe you know her brother? There’s more to the Ascended one than you or your little wizard know about. And if you don’t fuck with me, he’ll stay safe.”
“Listen. I don’t know what you’re playing at, but you can have your post in the White Court. I’ll be watching you, though. One false step, and I’ll kill you with my own hands.”
“I’m sure you’ll try, Mike.”
With that, Hawkeye got up and left. SuperGrover ordered a double shot of JD. He felt like he just traded a frying pan for three fires.
2 days later, Rome
“You realize that you’re leaving me short handed, right?” Daemon asked Hawkeye.
“Nonsense. You have three new recruits. And the White Court is a phone call away. I’ve also arranged an interview with another new girl for you. Now go play King, before I decide to stay.” Hawkeye answered.
“Fine.” Daemon said. “I’ve learned better than to argue with you. One question, though. Your personal wing of the citadel?”
“Is to be left untouched. Anyone goes near it, and my security system will make them wish they hadn’t. And yes, Gabe. The system would do more than just hurt a Power Elemental.”
“Understood” Daemon said, as Hawkeye left for said wing.
Five minutes later, Hawkeye was getting into his personal helicopter.
“You’re leaving me here again, boss?” A young woman asked.
“Yes, I am. Make sure they stay out of my wing. And keep me informed of what they’re doing. I’ll be in New York, at the White Court’s mansion.” Hawkeye answered with a wink.
“You staying there?” She asked.
“Not for long, dear. You’re too much fun in the sack. And remember to stay out of sight. I can’t have dead people walking the grounds, after all.” Hawkeye answered.
Faith blushed.
End