An Unspecified European Minimum-Security Prison:
Tony Stark sat in his cramped prison cell, his legs up on the bed as he leaned onto his knees. He had grown a rather unkempt beard over the few months he had spent in the facility and he doubted that anyone could tell that the rugged criminal that they all picked on at lunch was the same guy who, just last year, had been voted one of the world's most eligible bachelors. But now Tony was no longer thinking about himself, not in that sense anyway. His focus was more on the fact that he had just been woken up and told he was about to be taken to see a very important visitor.
The bars of his cell rolled aside and Tony looked up to see the overweight guard standing in the doorway with his baton swinging around on his finger, "Hello, Mister Green," he said in his husky Bolivian accent, "That special visitor you were promised is waiting for you."
Tony stood up and rubbed the creases from his prison uniform, "Thanks, Hans," he said, "I've been getting ready to piss myself for the last hour now."
Hans led Tony from his cell and past dozens of criminals. There men weren't the kind of criminals who murdered and tortured, they were the cool and calculating geniuses with the irritating senses of humor and the yellowed teeth.
"God I hate this country," Tony said to himself.
The door to the meeting room opened and Tony was led in, his hands tightly cuffed to prevent any kind of motion. He had a look around the white room, it was completely bare, not even one of those two-way mirrors you always see in the movies. At the far end was a long line of windows, all of them completely fenced off with a network of white bars. A man in a long black coat stood at the windows, his back to Tony.
"Sit him down and take off his cuffs," said the man, his clear American accent causing a slight sigh of relief to escape from Tony's mouth. "Don't relax yet," said the man, still facing the windows, "I may be an American, but I'm not here on a social call."
Hans sat Tony down and removed the handcuffs. He stood at the door and waited silently.
"Leave the room," said the man.
Hans left without protest.
"Who are you?" Tony said, peering through the veil of white light that the windows covered the man in.
The man turned around, his face still obscured by the bright light, "I'm your worst nightmare and your best friend all rolled into one, Mister Stark," he said, "I hope you're comfortable, because this may take a little while."
Tony forced a laugh, "I think you've made some kind of mistake," he said, "My name is…"
"Anthony Stark," said the man, "Son of Howard Stark and CEO of one of the world's leading technologically-inclined firms."
Tony remained silent.
"Stunned into silence," said the man, "I love it."
Tony scowled, "Who the hell are you?"
The man stepped forward and out of the obscuring light, his face becoming clear as day. He was middle-aged, with brown but graying hair and a leather eye patch on. He smiled, "General Nicholas Fury of the US Defense Directorate," he slapped an ID card onto the table in front of Tony, "Otherwise known as an Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D." he said with another smile.
"Am I supposed to be impressed?" Tony asked.
Nick withdrew his ID card, "You are if you want to get out of here," he said, "I've got us two tickets on a plane from here back to Washington DC, Mister Stark."
Tony was stunned again but he recovered, "I'm impressed," he fell silent and his eyes seemed to glint devilishly, "What's the catch?"
"The catch is that you'll be made a prisoner of the state and you'll have to supply the government with a large amount of useful hardware on a daily basis," Nick stepped back into the light again, "We want Iron Man," he said.
The room echoed with Tony's laughter, "I think I've changed my mind, General," he said, "The prison's here are so much comfier than the ones back home. Plus we get separate showers."
Nick started to walk towards the door, "Oh well, it was worth a shot," he said, "I'll see you in about twenty years, Stark," he opened the door.
"You probably will, General," said Tony.
"Oh and, one more thing before I go," said Nick.
Tony gleamed, "You want my autograph for your niece?" he said charmingly.
"Nope," Nick walked out the door but stuck his head back into the room, "Who said you were going back to prison once we hit US shore?" Nick left the room.
Tony jumped upwards and ran to the door, "FURY!!" he yelled, "Get your ass back here!!"
Stan Lee (indirectly) Presents….
The Avengers: Reborn #1:
Avengers Assemble Part One:
'Ask Not What You Can Do For Your Country…'
By Ultimatevenom215
The United States of America, the New Mexico Desert:
From the outside the rundown gas station and the old garage behind it seemed abandoned, but nobody ever bothered to stop there or have a closer look at the place. On the outside it was a dusty mess, the white paint peeled at every corner and edge and some of the broken front windows had already been boarded up, but inside it was a quiet sanctuary divided into a comfortable living space, a workable kitchen, a few well-kept bathrooms and a large lab area.
Henry Pym sat over his metal worktable with a soldering-iron in one hand and his sketchbook in the other. He had his goggles on to protect his eyes for later on when he would use the blowtorch, and enjoyed the soothing ease of wearing a golf shirt and a pair of baggy shorts with his slip-slops.
"How does that feel?" he said to the robotic body laid out in front of him.
The half-finished mechanical head that sat suspended on the table next to his worktable tilted its eyes up towards Hank, "Rather uncomfortable, sir," the head said, "But I suppose I can handle it since it's all for the greater good."
"Quite right, Vision," said Hank to the robot, "Quite right."
The door of the lab creaked open, "Still working on your toys, Pym?" said Fury from the shadows.
Vision's head spun round on its axis so fast that it nearly snapped free of the cables that connected it to its body, "Sir, it appears we have a visitor," he said, "That son of a bitch Fury is back."
Hank smirked as he swiveled around in his chair, "Hello, Nick," he said, "What can I do for you?"
Fury strolled up to the table and patted Vision on the head, "Hi, Robocop," he said, "Still running off your mouth I see."
"As always," said Vision.
Hank shook his head, "What do you want, Nick?" he said angrily, "I'm working on creating a synthetic nervous system for Vision here, I don't have time to sell you anything today."
Fury grinned, "I didn't come here to buy up any exoskeletons or exploding chewing gum, Pym," he said, "I've come here to buy you."
"My master is no man-whore," said Vision.
Both Pym and Fury turned to Vision wide-eyed and then burst into wild laughter.
Fury shook his head, "What the hell are you teaching this kid?" Fury asked, still laughing a little."
"Sorry, Nick," Hank said, "Too many Adam Sandler and Rob Schneider flicks at late hours of the night." He mopped beads of sweat off of his forehead, "So, what were you saying?"
"I was talking about hiring you to work for the government, Hank," Fury explained, finally taking a seat next to Hank, "Officially."
Henry rubbed his hands through his hair, "Wow! Seriously?" he looked at Vision and then back at Fury, "What for exactly?"
"Well, I'm starting up this little superhuman initiative on the order of the President," Fury handed Hank a few confidential documents from a folder in his coat, "And when I was looking for people to join I thought of all those little biological trinkets you're always cooking up."
"Biological trinkets?" scoffed Hank, "You mean my formulas?" Hank grabbed hold of his sketchbook again and flipped through it to a series of equations and diagrams, "Those are at least a year from coming together."
Fury took the book and flipped back a few pages before showing Hank the book again, "What about these?" he said, pointing to other illustrations and formulas, "This synthetic growth hormone-secreting gland you were working on? You think you could cook this baby up for us?"
"I-I-I-I…that stuff is biologically simpler to manufacture, but it'd cost me a friggin' fortune to grow the gland into a human host and…"
"Consider the tab picked up," Fury said with a smile, "Now pack some clothes, your books and your robot into some bags and we'll get going. We'll send in a clean-up crew to get the rest to the lock-up in New York," Fury stood up, "You've got a meeting in Washington DC in a few days."
Midtown Manhattan:
Clint Barton stood on the rooftop of a building, his bow in one hand and a photograph in the other.
A limousine pulled up to the front of the building across the street and waited. Five minutes later an elderly man and a young woman strolled out confidently and walked up to the car. Clint tapped a switch at the bridge of his sunglasses.
"Sunglasses menu online," he said quietly to himself, "Activate zoom: three blinks."
He blinked thrice and the lenses zoomed in on the man standing at the car. He lifted his sunglasses and looked at the photograph, "Well hello, Mister Shaw," he said with a smirk on his face, "You enjoy your evening at the opera, okay?"
The window to Mister Shaw's apartment clicked open easily and Clint climbed onto the windowsill to have a look inside. The whole place was in total darkness and he could see traces of the laser network as it shifted about along the floor.
Clint reached into his quiver and pulled out an extremely narrow arrow, loading it into his bow and taking aim. He fired the shot to the security console at the far end of the room and it snapped to life…and then immediate short-circuited death.
Clint climbed into the apartment, put his bow and quiver down at the window, and made his way straight to the study and the painting above the fireplace, "Jeez! Five blinks for x-ray," he said, blinking to see through the painting. His scan revealed several stacks of paper and other objects, "Shaw is an old man with tricks that are just as old," he said.
He removed the painting, frame and all, from the wall, only to have the lights switch on. Clint swerved around on one foot and saw Nick Fury standing in the doorway, one small pistol in each hand.
"Good evening, Robin Hood," Nick said, taking aim with one of the guns.
Clint dove behind a nearby couch as the bullet exploded above him.
"A weapon, a weapon," Clint said to himself, "Why the hell did I leave the bow at the window?!" He looked around the room for any items of use and saw the fire poker at the fireplace.
Something rushed from the couch to behind the desk at his left and Fury peered towards the desk, "You can't hide forever, boy," he said, "After all, it's only one room and you're unarmed."
The poker went slicing through the air, missing Fury only because he ducked just in time and smacking into the light switch. The lights in the room flickered for a second.
"Or you were unarmed. Strange that you missed that shot though," he said, "From what I've heard, Hawkeye never misses his mark."
There was a slight tapping sound behind Nick as the lights in the room totally cut off.
"Who said I missed?" asked Hawkeye, scurrying across the room and pummeling into Fury.
Hawkeye then grabbed hold of the poker and pressed it up against Fury's throat, "Tell me who you are or I'm gonna slice your jugular," he said, "And then tell me what you're doing here."
Fury laughed, "Pretty tough mojo for a guy whose never killed anyone," said Fury, "My name's Nick Fury and I'm here because I want to offer you a job."
"What?"
"Here's my ID," Fury said, "See, you don't even have to move away the poker to earn my trust."
Hawkeye analyzed the card, "You're for real," he said.
"How can you tell?"
"My glasses can see that weird magnetic residue stuff that they put on all your S.H.I.E.L.D ID cards."
Fury nodded once Hawkeye had removed the poker and given him a hand up off the floor, "Yeah, about those neat tech-glasses of yours," Fury said, "Tony Stark wants them back."
State Insane Asylum, Salem, Oregon
"Give it to me! Now! No! Don't! It's a secret! I swear! Please!! My head!! It doesn't hurt! I swear! No, don't!"
Several doctors ran in and grabbed the old man. He was yelling at a baby doll whose head was ripped apart.
"Don't mind him," said the psychiatrist, notifying General Fury and his associates, "Follow me, and don't touch anything."
General Fury nodded and continued to follow her. His head-scientist, Doctor Cornelius, was dressed in a nice suit with a black, leather tie. His glasses were placed down near to the front of his nose. Nick Fury was dressed in something more rich, his dashing maroon suit; comfortably worn. The two of them walked side by side. Behind them was Fury's lawyer, Matthew Murdock, the blind red-haired man wore bright red shades, a suit similar to Cornelius' and tapped the area in front of him with his cane.
The psychiatrist regulated a normal pace during the walk throughout the entire hospital. There were about five hundred rooms that held mental patients in need of help. After several right turns, the three ended up at a dead end. At the end of the hall on the fourth floor there was a room that held a very special patient.
"Okay, here we are. Now please, do not touch any of her things, especially her paintings." said the psychiatrist, pausing to wipe her glasses with the edge of her lab coat, "I'll leave you alone with her for a while. I'll be back in ten minutes." The psychiatrist left the hall.
Fury turned "Wait here, Matthew," he said.
Matt nodded.
Fury then turned his head back "Ready, Doctor Cornelius?" asked Fury.
"Yes I am, General Fury," replied Cornelius.
Natasha Alianovna Romanov sat freely on the floor, painting another piece of her artwork on a canvas. Her auburn hair dangled to the sides of her shoulders as her green eyes focused towards the middle of her canvas. Fury looked carefully at her, her beauty was in sharp contrast to her gruesome history. Once she was a KGB officer with experience beyond most of her contemporaries in the military, but she retired and came to America. However, after a few revelations in her personal life, she ended up in a mental asylum. Now, she spent her time painting for enjoyment. That was until two gentlemen walked into the room, interrupting her.
"Well, well, well, if it isn't Agent Fury and the infamous Doctor Cornelius," Natasha said callously.
"Director," informed Fury with a cocky tone.
"Oh...what did you do?" she snapped back, "Kill the old director?"
"Anyways," interrupted Cornelius, "Let's get down to the point. Natasha, we understand that you are one of the best when it comes to fighting expertise and strategic abilities, you've finely honed those areas to perfection. And your use of weaponry is beyond what we need. What we are asking is...for you to join our team."
"Your team? Team of what? I really don't have time for you idiots. Get the hell out!!"
"Hold on," said Fury authoritatively, "We, the so-called idiots, would just like to let you know that you have two more months left in this crazy house and then, after that time is gone, you'll be sentenced to the death penalty," Fury's eye narrowed, "And no lawyer in the entire universe will be able to save you, insanity plea or none." He paused to let his words sink in, "Now, before you say anything, let me remind you that if you turn this down... you'll never get any free time to draw one of your stupid paintings again. Thank you for your time." Fury turned around and then swerved back to Natasha, "Wait, let my friend here, ask you again."
Doctor Cornelius tried not to laugh and asked his question, "Let me repeat myself, do you want to join our team?"
"Is there even a choice?" asked Natasha knowingly.
Los Angeles:
"What!? You can't be serious with this!?" Janet Pym hurriedly shuffled behind her father in her high heels, "Daddy? Daddy!"
Her father turned walked out the front door and up to the garage, the doors opening electronically, "I'm dead serious, Janet," he said, "You're not getting a cent till you can prove you're worth it."
"Daddy, I've been living alone in my apartment in New York!" she said angrily, "That's, like, thousands of miles away from you. Doesn't that prove that I'm totally independent?"
Her father shook his head, "Not when I'm the one paying for the apartment and everything else in your life," he said, "You need to prove your independence to me, Jan. Get a job and find yourself a respectable man. You wanted to be a fashion designer, do you remember that?" he asked, "You remember how good you were when you went for all those courses in college?"
Janet shrugged, "I can still do that," she said, "I'm just trying to find the right job and the right man. I just need time to find my feet."
"You've had time, Janet," her father said, getting into his car, "Fourteen years of time."
"So that's it then?" she said, "You're just gonna cut me off from the family fortune until I find a job and a husband?"
He nodded, "I'm paying for your flight back to New York, but from then on in, you're on your own," he started reversing the car out of the garage, "And that means paying the rent on the loft and everything."
He drove off, leaving Janet standing on the cobblestone driveway in total shock.
Greater Faith Apostolic Church, South Dallas, Texas
"GET ON YOUR KNEES AND BEG FOR YOUR LIFE!!" yelled the tall man viciously. He was standing on a tall embankment while the churchgoers were on the floors below.
All of the churchgoers dropped to their knees in fear except for one female.
"DID YOU HEAR WHAT I SAID, YOU STUPID HUMAN!?"
"I only believe in God. I don't care how badly you torture me, you lunatic," the woman stood her ground and looked up at the man, "My faith..."
The man's large right hand slapped the woman's face and everyone present heard the sound of bone cracking. His smack drove her back five feet and into a wall. At 6 foot 7, he was a monster. If you were to place him next to a dirty blonde Viking of old, they would look practically identical. With long, dirty-blonde and braided hair, he was massively muscular with an overly-articulate face. The goatee made him look scary, but the large hammer he held made him look even scarier. He wore a wild ensemble of black goat-skin tied together by several leather straps, but what made him even more god-like was his history. He forced Christians, Jews, Muslims and all other to pray to him and love him because he wanted them all to believe that he was, indeed, their god.
A man stood up unapologetically, "You aren't a God, you're a demon!"
"A demon can't do this!" The tall man raised his hammer and, from the skies above, a bolt lightning came crashing down, striking the roof of the church and then connecting with the hammer. Suddenly an aura of lightning surrounded the hammer and rotated around the powerful weapon. The tall man roared and flung his hammer towards his target. The hammer released a powerful bolt of lightning that left the man a steaming pile of ash before swinging back to the tall man. He swung it round and slung it back into a kind of scabbard on his back. Slowly he began to levitate, rising higher and higher above the ground.
"YOU WILL NOW NOT CALL ME GOD, BUT THOR!" commanded Thor.
The churchgoers not only feared this man but they were in awe. They had no choice but to believe.
Thor stuck his finger out and pointed to one man, "You REALLY believe I don't know what you are thinking?! Don't ever, EVER doubt my powers!"
Out of the corner of the church came another man whose face was obscured by a hood. He kindly interrupted, "Sir, I need to ask you a question, but I must keep it, a secret," said the man, "Yes I do know that you know what I'm about to ask, but it would be an honour to say it into the ears of the almighty himself."
"Finally, someone brave enough to come out and demonstrate such motivation. Come forth," instructed Thor.
The hooded man walked towards Thor and revealed that they were in no way comparable in size. The mysterious man's lips were an inch away from Thor's ears and began to whisper, "Well, I'd like to tell you..." the man extended his arms and attached a large, steel collar over Thor's neck and finished his statement, "YOU AREN'T A FUCKING GOD, OR YOU WOULD'NT BOW BEFORE ME!"
Thor reached for his hammer but any movements that he initialized resulted in a 50,000-PSI shock. Thor immediately dropped to his knees and trembled in pain. The entire church was being surrounded by S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, soldiers and helicopters. Nick Fury pulled his cloak and hood off.
"Here's some fucking motivation!" shouted Fury as he kicked Thor in the abdominal area. "You will worship me now, you pathetic piece of shit. Take him to the compound!" Fury said to the nearby soldiers.
1941, Secret Super-Soldier Launch:
Several important leaders of the Allied Forces assembled around a small door in a briefing room. Men from Great Britain, the United States of America, the Soviet Union and China stood in waiting.
"You boys ready?" asked the American, General Oslo.
"We're fighting a war, General," said one of the other men, "We don't have time to waste on preparation for your little surprise."
"Very well," said Oslo, "Gentleman, I'd like to introduce you to Steve Rogers," Steve entered the room in his full red, white and blue costume, with his mask covering half of his face, and his shield slung over his back, "We call him Captain America."
Steve leaned up to Oslo's ear and whispered, "Aw, General Oslo," he said softly, "I still feel kinda uncomfortable being called that."
"I know you're still getting used to having all that strength and wearing the costume and stuff, kid," said Oslo, "But just try and look as assertive as you can till they're gone, okay?"
"Sir, yes sir," Captain America said, standing as upright as he could.
Today:
The large metal doors slid aside as General Nick Fury stood outside the room surrounded by a small detail of S.H.I.E.L.D agents.
"I find it amusing how even the Director of SHIELD has to be watched over when he enters this room," said the scientist that had opened the doors.
"Why's that?" Fury asked sarcastically.
The scientist shrugged, "I'm Doctor Stern, by the way," he said, "You may have heard of me since you took up the post, General."
Fury nodded, "Yeah, I've heard a bit."
"And how much of it is true?" asked Stern, "I mean, I'd really like to know what they say about me upstairs."
Fury's face contorted into a twisted smile, "Well, the part about you smelling like cabbage seems to be pretty spot on, but I don't intend on playing poker against you and finding out just how good you are at that."
The agents standing behind Fury all burst into laughter.
The second set of metal doors opened and the force-fields shut down, "Okay, so here's what I can tell you, or what I know for sure," said Stern, "This room and the technology was designed back in the forties by one of those old scientists…Phineas something?" Stern shook his head, "Back during the seventies they tried to replicate a modern version of it and move the frozen bodies from this machine to the new one. They ended up with a cold corpse within a week, which is why they pay guys like me to make sure no one gets near this and opens it."
"So we can't open it?"
"Well, modern medicine being what it is, we now have the means to bring one of these boys back," Stern led Fury across the grated metal floor and through hissing clouds of ice-cold mist until they reached a dozen frozen glass tanks, "And you said you were looking for a super-soldier, so…"
Fury stared at the murky glass in awe, "Is that…?"
"That's right, sir, the leader of your new government-funded super-team is none other than Captain America!!"
To Be Continued…
