Battleforce #9

[Glippernip]

#9: In Between

Written and Edited by Joel A. Sawyer

[Glippernip]

The dark figure felt his heart begin to beat faster with fear and excitement. He had been instructed to meet his quarry in a desolate place at the edges of the city on an industrial site abandoned due to contaminates in the ground. Simply, It would have taken years and millions to clean up the place, so the former business vacated the land. It was also dusk, which increased the man’s apprehension. That fueled his excitement as well.

He didn’t see the other man coming at all.

“Don’t move or I will make at least two new holes in your head,” the gruff voice whispered in the chilled evening air.

Wilson Corbis, recently on the run after creating a handful of gruesome mutated creatures, turned his head slightly to see the other man step out of the shadows fifty feet away. The mystery man wearing a helmet, goggles, and maroon and grey outfit, held only a pistol.

“Could you really make that kind of shot?” Corbis asked, “Even if I ran.”

“You wouldn’t take two steps, Dr.,” Blaster answered with a sneer.

As Corbis watched, a 3 foot tall machine on treads moved out from behind Blaster and approached. Fear overtaking excitement, Corbis stepped back.

“I will kill you,” Blaster said seriously, “I’m Blaster. You should know what that means.”

Corbis nodded and let the robot come up to him. With short instructions from the machine guiding him, Wilson let the machine check his finger prints, voice, and retina. Then it took a sample of his blood! A green light on the back of the robot lit up and Blaster holstered his weapon.

“You are clean,” the marksman stated, “No wires or comm devices, either.”

“I’m not a fool,” Corbis said indignantly, “I wouldn’t come here under duress.”

“You don’t have to be a fool to cooperate with the authorities. We screen everyone, period.”

Blaster led Corbis into the building and around a few corners. Blaster motioned to a spot where Corbis could stand and then walked over to stand beside his employer.

Machine Maker.

Without turning around to face Corbis, Machine Maker asked, “What brings you here, Dr. Corbis?”

“Well, my initial contact…”

“I like to hear the request in person, thank you,” Maker interrupted, “Sometimes people do not say everything. If you want my help, you will tell me what you expect from me.”

Wilson nodded. “I’ve been carrying on experiments on genetic mutation with astounding results, but my last laboratory has been raided and my equipment seized. I want to continue my research but I need resources. I’ve heard you sometime finance a technological advance such as this.”

Maker paused, still with his back to Wilson. “You work with the highly controversial Tri-Molecule effect, the same research that created several paranormals. You accept death as a reasonable end result of your research, even with human test subjects. I am not interested in mutation, Dr. Corbis. I deal almost entirely with machinery computers. I also deal in trade, not charity.”

Corbis felt a little nervous, especially with the dry monotone voice Maker spoke with. Almost like a machine. “Please, Machine Maker. There must be some arrangement that could be made. My research is extremely valuable. You could share in the profits.”

“Sharing in profits before they are made is…highly unprofitable,” Maker said, and Blaster snorted. “Do you want something, Robert,” Maker asked casually.

“Profit is unprofitable,” Dubb answered with a smirk, and he continued with a bad Foghorn Leghorn voice, “That’s a joke, son. Don’tcha get it?”

“I see,” Maker replied, “Yes, that is very funny.” Machine Maker turned to face Dr. Wilson Corbis, and the murderer scientist gaped in surprise.

Machine Maker, pale from being indoors too much and pudgy from a lack of exercise, looked at Corbis with one human eye and one silvered eye. One ear had obviously been altered as well with some electrical equipment covering the right ear like a patch. Corbis could see several wires going from Maker’s head down his neck and imbedded into his skin.

“I wouldn’t have brought you here if I didn’t see some kind of trade potential,” Maker said dryly, “Dr. Corbis, I will provide you with everything you require and a few things you don’t realize you need. For my assistance, you will do one thing for me.”

“Gladly,” Corbis said before knowing what the task would be, “Anything.”

Machine Maker leaned forward and the silvery eye’s mechanical iris opened, a golden metallic liquid trapped within. Maker said with a hint of his own excitement, “You will capture a being named Starknight and run some tests for me!”

[Glippernip]

“Are you sure you want to do this, Dale,” Dennis Richter asked his long-time friend and ally, “Not too long ago, you were dead-set against it, and some of these guys have little or no experience.”

“I did a lot of thinking in a short amount of time, Dennis,” Dale Morgan, also known as Ace, replied. They were out in public speaking over a steak dinner at a ‘roadhouse grill’ style restaurant and spoke in broad, vague terms in case someone was listening. They knew they spoke of the Ace’s sudden decision to re-form Battleforce. Ace continued, “Lee woke me up big time. To have someone that strong come out of nowhere so soon after we took down TM (Techno-Warriors), someone who took all of us down without really trying, it changes everything, Dennis. Lee is still out there, and I can’t think of another way to be ready for him.”

“Strangely, I agree with you there,” Dennis returned grimly, “I don’t know if any of our equipment would have made a difference, not with a huge amount of luck. A team now seems prudent. I’m sure I can convince the Government that it is a good move to reestablish the group.”

“A certain amount of clearance, maybe,” Dale said after chewing and swallowing a particularly large bite, “I don’t know if I want the Government running the show. As free agents we would have a certain amount of plausible deniability. We could get a lot accomplished and try to stay out of the political situations.”

Dennis stared at his friend for a long moment. “I don’t know if I agree with that. For now I will do this your way. There may be ways to funnel some funding your way even if you are not directly working for the government.”

“Nothing illegal.”

Dennis smiled. “There is so much that we could do that would be illegal in the private sector, Dale. It’s the US Government. We’re allowed if it’s in the best interests of the country. Besides, we took in a lot of financial resources from TM after they were apprehended. It’s already earmarked for my company and I have a lot of power as to where the money goes.”

“We can hammer out the details later. I have so much planning to do. Right now, I just want to enjoy this steak.”

“Cool,” Dennis replied, “Did you see Tropic Thunder yet?”

[Glippernip]

When Daryl Parham got the news, he was thinking about a certain cute young woman named Shawnee Manchester. Then he was thinking about Darkness.

“Haven’t seen her in a while,” Windstorm said to himself as he sped to the outskirts of the Metropolitan Chicago area. As he flew he briefly remembered his previous encounters with the criminal who had read way too many comic books as she grew up. Simply, Darkness could manipulate light and shadow somehow, and since she had these powers, she took on a sinister persona and fell into a ‘bad guy’ mentality. It seemed silly to Windstorm…as he flew through the Illinois sky in his sky-blue and white costume!

Of course, as he flew into the area where Darkness had been seen just a few minutes before, he didn’t realize that she had help. As he flew down the street where she had been spotted, he barely noticed the lighting pole suddenly twist and slam him into the ground. Groggy, he wasn’t even aware as Darkness and her ‘friend’ came towards him.

“Surprise, Windstorm,” she said in an alluring whisper.

[Glippernip]

Erin Xiang stood in front of the full-length mirror in the bedroom of her apartment. She had recently moved to a larger, more secure place due to her rising celebrity as the hero Molecule. A new book and a highly publicized battle with Lee Wakefield had made her one of the top news items in America. That came with certain…annoyances. She may have found a solution, though.

Looking in the mirror, she began to concentrate on what she saw. Asian-American face, long black hair, brown eyes, and a shapely feminine figure. She was not gorgeous by any standard, but she was not totally plain, either. She concentrated further, both watching her reflection and subtly turning her ability to alter her own molecular structure on. She focused her concentration a little too much and became invisible. She swore and turned her powers off, then started over, focusing on her eyes. Slowly, very slowly, the iris’ of both her eyes changed from the rich brown color to an icy blue.

She giggled like a little girl as her eyes shifted back to brown. With some additional effort, she changed her eye color to hazel, then green…then blood red. She quickly decided on the next test. This one took twenty minutes to do properly, but after a lot of mental concentration, she shortened her hair and then turned it blond. Then she lengthened her locks to floor length while changing the color red. Maintaining that, she changed her eyes to a bright orange, making the pupils disappear completely.

Totally exhausted, she reverted to her normal appearance and fell back onto her bed. Though she had not really noticed in her concentration, she had been sweating with the exertion.

“This is so cool,” Erin whispered to herself, “Molecule is getting a makeover!”

[Glippernip]

Scott Deyoung, in some circles known as Starknight (though not a lot of people knew that yet), busied himself at his newest task, the first truly new mission he had taken on in a while. Ace had mentioned that, if he were to deal with super-powered individuals, he would need some new equipment. After some discussion, Ace had acquired a Government issue PFG (Personal Field Generator) and a basic blaster, while Scott had already been working on reverse-engineering a ‘Spit-Ball’ Gun, one of Robert Dubb’s personal favorite weapons that Scott had secretly ‘acquired’ from the battlefield where the Techno-Warriors had been captured. Deyoung had some ideas that would give Ace more speed and maneuverability as well as some weaponry that could not easily be dropped.

And, to put it simply, Scott was ‘in the zone’ doing what he did best and enjoying every minute of it.

[Glippernip]

Michael Richardson stood in his comic book shop on another quiet day. Die-hard fans were still coming in, but with the economy the way it was, people didn’t have as much money for the collectibles he sold and business was down. Not down enough to really jeopardize the shop…yet.

“I’m a real super-hero now and my biggest worry is dealing with the bills. I’m sure Superman didn’t have to worry about this kind of thing,” he thought, but the other voice in his head added, “Spider-Man does, though.”

Michael sighed and looked at the TV that he kept in his store for just such an emergency, watching some kind of Judge Judy type show. His mind began to wander to another subject he needed to address: The Shark.

He hadn’t reappeared since that first fight, but then Perseus had been all over the place immediately afterward. Shark had said he could sense the hero’s location, but maybe he couldn’t follow him as Michael. Michael hadn’t thought of a way to approach the situation yet.

“We interrupt our regularly scheduled broadcast for breaking news,” a deep, serious voice uttered from the TV, pulling Michael out of his thoughts.

The screen showed a woman news reporter who was already talking.

Reporter: “…Chicago where an unknown costumed criminal has apparently captured and is holding the crime-fighter Windstorm hostage. The criminal seems to be speaking now.”

The camera shot switches to a scene that is obviously zoomed in from a distance. It shows a woman in a hunters green and black outfit and cape standing in the middle of the stage of an amphitheater in a park. Various objects have been strewn about in a rough semi-circle around the front of the half dome, with the back being protected by the open dome itself. The woman is looking directly at the camera and is saying into a microphone, “Thank you for giving me this opportunity. Tonight, in one hour, at the beginning of Prime Time Television, I will give everyone a show that they will never forget…the death of Windstorm!”

Michael was already reaching for the phone.

To Be Continued…