Ultimates/Transformers:
System of Execution

by Jack Midnight
and Ikus Maximus

Disclaimer: The Ultimates and all related characters are property and copyright of Marvel Comics. The Transformers and all related characters are property and copyright of their respective creators. Both are used without permission and without profit, merely the sake of fun.

CHAPTER 1

Naval Petroleum Reserve No. 4,
Alaska's North Slopes
Four hours ago

It was cold. Truth is it was damn cold. It was always damn cold, twenty-four hours a day, seven days a week and all year round. It's six months between sun up to sundown and Evan Chandler was in the middle of his third, which frustrated the hell out of him because in Alaska the nights were colder still.

His mind wandered, searching for something to get his thoughts away from the numb feeling in his fingertips. The scenery did little to inspire him: every angle was ice and snow, stretching for miles and covering the 23 million acres of crude oil of which he'd been assigned the task of monitoring a portion.

"Get your ass back inside," a nearby voice barked at him. "I'm still your commanding officer and it's freezing out there! Besides, you're blowing my cards everywhere!"

Evan sighed and tugged at his parka, his hot breath misting before his mouth under the bright lights mounted above their station. For a moment he'd wondered what he'd done to get himself stationed in the middle of a desolate wasteland like this.

Inside the booth was only slightly warmer with monitors, radios and papers littered about across the cheap counters. The sergeant sat leaned back with his feet crossed as he played a half thought out game of solitaire. After reshuffling five times he still couldn't finish one. Not that it mattered to him: he was just killing time like the rest of them.

"That's what I said. Three of them," crackled the radio. "Then they just disappeared off the radar, just as quickly as they showed up."

"I don't even know what we're doing here," said the sergeant for the millionth time. Perhaps he wasn't aware he was talking: his mouth just wanted to gap the silence. "We're guarding all of this oil... against what? You really think some terrorists are going to sneak in, crack the ice and siphon it all into a billion gas tanks? 'S crazy."

Evan wasn't really listening. Instead he just stared at the bored expression of his reflection superimposed upon the window pane until something suddenly snatched his attention away. After a split second of wondering what the dark spot on his nose might be he looked farther to see something out in the distance.

"What the hell...?" Snatching a pair of binoculars he looked out. "Sarge. There's a man on the ice."

The sergeant cursed as he bolted from his chair and grabbed his rifle. In seconds the two guards were outside and huddled up on their black snowbike, charging towards the mysterious stranger. They slowed on their approach and quickly dismounted, training their weapons on the still figure in front.

"You are in a restricted area," the sergeant bellowed menacingly. "Raise your hands above your head and turn around! You have ten seconds to comply!"

As he counted down the figure remained still. All he did was stare, his head slightly turned towards the distant hills, as if to wait for some sort of signal. For a moment Evan wondered if they hadn't come to point their guns at some kind of statue.

"Five," roared the sergeant, growing increasingly impatient. "You have five seconds to turn around or so help me god we will open fire!"

"Quiet," he said with disdain. "I'm in the middle of something here, meatbag."

"That's it." Without another word they squeezed their triggers, unloading a dozen bullets into him. One by one they all bounced off, shredding the stranger's coat and ricocheting with loud pangs off of the metal underneath. "The hell...?"

"Alright," he said happily to the air as he turned. Evan and his sergeant gasped when they saw the silver face of the man-shaped machine before them. "You're the boss."

"It's a... mutant or a... a machine..." was all even could sputter before turning to run.

"The name's Rumble," he said with a wicked grin. His red eyes flared and the arms of his parka tore to shreds and in their place formed two large, metallic pile-drivers, hanging eagerly to strike the ground below. "Not that you'll live to tell anyone."

Evan heard the sergeant roar as his mind switched to automatic. Years of training had lead up to this point when he took aim and unloaded an entire clip into the smiling android, but it was no use. The thing had managed to achieve it's dark purpose and unleashed it's full force onto the ice with the magnitude of an earthquake.

The ice splintered, cracked and turned, rising up violently tossing Evan up into the air and into the hungry mouth of two freezing caps. In his last moments he regretted wishing for more excitement on the job and prayed there was more beyond death than just the darkness he'd imagined: not that his prayers would ever be heard aloud.

The Triskelion, SHIELD Headquarters
Three hours ago

"Twenty-three million kilometres of crude oil reserves, and over half of it gone missing overnight," the President told him. "I'm sure I don't have to tell you, Nick, I'm not happy. We're facing an energy crisis here. This is the last thing we need."

Nick Fury sat straight in his chair and stared unblinking to the man on the screen before him with his one good eye. "I understand, sir."

President Bush nodded and continued. "Which is why we're passing this matter onto you boys in SHIELD. This incident has caused an unwelcome political shift. Our dependency on foreign oil has just been increased. I don't have to tell you, that ain't good."

"With all due respect Mr. President, I can't imagine that would be bad news to your bank account," Fury interjected harshly. "Or Vice President Cheney's."

The President frowned at his clean, well-dressed military subordinate. "With all due respect, General Fury, despite however Dick or myself are painted in the media this country's national and economical stability take priority over our own personal finances. Now, what intelligence do we have?"

With the press of a button Fury summoned surveillance photographs on an opposing monitor. "These pictures were taken over the North Slopes minutes after the 'earthquake'. We assume the lights are not a natural phenomenon and generated enough heat and energy to create the thick mist cover that allowed the enemy to proceed unforseen."

"And the satellite itself?" the President asked. "Is it possible that whoever is responsible knew that they were being monitored and had counter-measures in place?"

"We believe that to be highly unlikely," Fury continued. "At the time of the satellite's destruction the perpetrators had already been active for twelve and a half minutes. It is probable that they didn't care whether or not they were monitored, and from evidence provided from a string of similar incidents it is our theory that there may be another party involved."

President Bush furrowed his brow and narrowed his eyes at the General. "Is that all you've got for me, Nick? Rival terrorist organisations? A rebel splinter cell? Please tell me you have more than that, because I've never seen Al Qaeda or even Hydra do anything on this scale before."

"I've instructed all of my people to work under the assumption we're dealing with advanced technology. The complexity and sophistocation implies armaments potentially of non-terrestrial origin, sir. Psi-division have been unable to learn anything, leaving us open to the possibility of non-terrestrial beings."

With a snort and a facetious chuckle the President shot Fury a serious glance. "Then it sounds like you have your hands full. Don't let me down, Nick. You're on the clock."

As the monitor went blank General Fury stood and proceeded to march towards the door where two armed guards met him. "Call in the Ultimates. Priority one," he ordered as he charged past to his station.

Alaska
Now

"This is messy," Skyfire said to Broadside as the gargantuan aircraft transformed and landed heavily on the warship's deck. He shook his frame with the force of the impact, his massive hull sending a large wave of icy water outward toward the land mass not far from his port side.

"How did you go? See anything?" the Battleship asked.

Skyfire rose to his feet and took a few careful steps toward the bridge. "Unfortunately, the entire facility is in ruin. Nobody could be left. Although there are only three possible explanations for such violent seismic activity – two of them are Decepticon. I think it was either Rumble or Devastator. If we want to keep covert we'd better hope it's not Devastator."

"I hope it's not Devastator. I don't want my circuits smashed," Broadside said grimly.

"We'd better check." Opening his chest compartment, Skyfire removed a small device and held it firmly in his hand. "Skyfire to Teletran One. Requesting on open communication channel with Optimus Prime."

"I read you, Skyfire. What do you have to report?" Optimus asked over the crackled signal.

"There were no survivors," Skyfire replied. "I did some low level surveillance with infra-red over the epicentre and there were no signs of life. I even investigated a little on foot. They left absolutely nothing to chance."

"Skyfire thinks it might be Devastator," Broadside added.

"Let's hope not," Prime said with heavy concern. "With the Dinobots and Superion still in status we don't have sufficient firepower to counter a full-scale assault."

"Devestator is focused. The destruction here was too random," Skyfire assured him. "Rumble just likes to leave his mark. In any case, the Decepticons managed to make off with over half the crude oil from within that reserve in less than one cycle. That one hit gave them enough energon to last months."

"This is quite disconcerting to say the least, Skyfire, to have the Decepticons in possession of so much potential energon." Optimus paused and considered his options. His spark was heavy with the knowledge his forces were spread thin as it was. "I want you and Broadside to remain in position and keep monitoring the reserve. Do your best to stay out of sight and report back if anything else eventuates. The rest of us will continue our search for the Nemesis."

"Will do, Prime," he said. "Over and out."

For the few months they had been awakened the Autobots had tried their best to keep their presence hidden. It was apparent that Megatron did not have the same concerns and against their better judgement they were forced to clean up their messes or else fear retaliation from the human popullace. Though as it was they were helpless to act and didn't have the energon to adequately defend themselves. All they could do was wait for the game to play out.

The Triskelion, War Room
Two hours, forty five minutes ago

The light of the monitor illuminated the silhouette of General Fury's bald head as he addressed the men and women seated before him. At a glance no layman could determine by their everyday garb that those seated before him were in fact the Ultimates: persons of mass destruction and the first option in SHIELD's US homeland security initiative. Captain America, Iron Man, Thor, Hawkeye, Black Widow, Scarlet Witch, Quicksilver and Wasp: all sat forward attentively to hear the details of their briefing.

"A power station in Chechnya, a nuclear armaments facility in China, an untapped uranium mine in outback Australia, and as of last night a naval petroleum reserve in Alaska," he stated bitterly. "All of them stripped nearly bare in the past month by persons and means unknown. What little evidence we do have indicates the use of mass-super-weapons, advanced enough for us to consider the possibility of extra-terrestrial involvement."

Sliding from frame to frame Nick Fury pointed to various pictures of tire marks embedded in the dirt or snow. "These are all that are left in their wake. Treadmarks from heavy vehicles which then make way... to these."

The Ultimates gasp collectively as they stare upon the image placed before them. Steve Rogers, aka Captain America, barely recognisable in a SHIELD issue t-shirt and trousers instead of his trademark uniform, could barely believe his eyes. "Is that what I think it is?"

Fury nodded grimly. "Yes, it is, Captain. What you're seeing is a footprint."

"It's got to be at least six feet long," he murmured.

"Impossible," exclaimed Tony Stark, his interest suddenly greatly piqued. "That pattern would have to be left behind by some kind of giant walking machine. Modern science, even the classified stuff here in Stark or SHIELD labs, can barely even make a robot stand let alone walk. The gyroscopic stabilization system would just be too advanced."

"What can I say, Tony?" said Fury. "It looks like someone somewhere cracked the secret and now we've got them plundering resources and destabilising economies. Now they've hit our home turf and the problem has fallen into our laps."

Hawkeye leaned back in his chair and raised his hand, waiting to be answered. Fury nodded to him. "Sir, do we have any leads as to the identity of the thieves?"

"Only that we may be dealing with more than one party," said the General heavily. "During the time of each incident satellite surveillance was impeded for several minutes or the satellite outright destroyed mere moments before the enemy's resource mining was interrupted."

"Someone else wants the resources for themselves?" the Black Widow interjected from her far end.

"Maybe." Behind him the slideshow continued with photographs of abstract insignias sprayed roughly in various international locations. "At every scene we found these markers. We have no idea what they mean or who they belong to, but they've been spread globally. Local authorities have found similar evidence in the tracks of large vehicles and footprints, but have not reported any incidents to follow."

Captain America leaned forward, his steely blue eyes eager for action. "So what's the next move, General?"

For a moment Fury let the hard man act drop and let loose a sly grin. "Our next move is packing our bags and dressing warm. We're on our way to Alaska."

The Ark, Autobot Homebase
The Colorado Desert
Now

Optimus Prime stared down from his platform to the Autobots racing about from computer to computer on the levels below. To look up on him the Autobots saw a vision of leadership: a bold figure of unquestionable strength and wisdom. Not a single one among them wouldn't march straight into the scrap heap if Optimus had given them the order.

The brave Autobot leader stopped and wondered where he might be without such loyal and mighty soldiers to support him, and therein lay his dread. Like a true warrior of nobility Optimus didn't fear his own destruction, but rather he worried about his comrades in the face of such dire circumstances, like he'd lead men dying of thirst into the desert.

"Optimus?" He turned to see standing at the top of the staircase a yellow Autobot half his size: the weapons expert codenamed Bumblebee. "Are... you alright?"

"I'm fine, Bumblebee," he said covering his uncertainty. "Merely weighed down by the heavy decisions we're being forced to make."

"Not like it's much of a choice," Bumblebee chortled. "We need the numbers to fight this war, but we just don't have the energon to do it."

"So this is what we've been reduced to, picking at the Decepticon's scraps." Optimus dropped his head wearily. "The humans aren't going to like it. They're going to see us as an enemy as well."

"You've done a good job of keeping us hidden, Prime," Bumblebee assured him.

"It's only a matter of time. Megatron's reckless disregard is eventually going to have us all discovered and things will come to a head. We can only hope we get to Megatron before it comes to that."

"Optimus Prime! Bumblebee!" At Jazz's calling the two Autobots ran to the lower level where a number of blips had appeared on an electronic map. "It looks like Broadside and Skyfire have some company out there."

"Blaster?" Optimus queried his nearby intelligence gatherer.

"They're known as SHIELD," the red Autobot began. "A human military organisation based in this nation. They've taken their weapons program a step further than the others by employing super-humans they call 'The Ultimates'. Any one of these guys alone would give us a good fight."

"I want complete radio silence," Optimus ordered. "Wheeljack, man the space-bridge. We'll need it ready should they require immediate extraction."

"On it, Prime," said Wheeljack hastily running to his post.

"Why don't we just pull them out now?" asked Bumblebee worriedly.

"Because for now we need all the energon we can get," Optimus told him.

Northern Alaska
Site of the attack

"Run on the spot, Pietro. It'll warm you up." Iron Man suggested to his comrade, his chuckle crackling through the audio devices of his cybernetic battle suit. The slender, silver-haired figure glared at him. The cold was difficult to ignore, particularly for Quicksilver who was forced to dress minimally: too much clothing would have been a hindrance to his speed.

Steve Rogers, now clothed in his star spangled Captain America uniform (and SHIELD issue winter parka Pietro couldn't help but notice) hushed the pair as he approached the site of the enormous footprint General Fury had shown them just hours before. "The air is still. Weather reports said that things have been fine the last twenty-four hours. I'm certain these tracks should still be here."

"There! Cap! About two hundred yards, eleven o'clock!" Clint Barton, aka Hawkeye pointed out, his gloved hand shielding his eyes from any unwanted light as he squinted.

"Pietro, I want a twenty mile recon radius. Tony, you support him," Captain America commanded.

"You got it," Quicksilver replied before vanishing from sight, leaving only a rapid trail of shallow footprints in his wake.

"Maintain radio contact, Tony. We don't know what's out there."

Iron Man gestured his acknowledgement and activated his heel-mounted boosters then took to the air.

Captain America looked back to the SHIELD gunship idling not far from their position and gave a signal. The pilot to cut the engines and Cap turned to his remaining comrades: Hawkeye and Wasp. "Alright, let's check this out."

"Get a load of this." Hawkeye marveled as he found himself standing inside the nine foot track. "If the feet are this big, my God…" He compared his own foot size to the print: he could easily lay in it with arms fully outstretched.

"Cap! Over here!" Wasp shouted, pointing toward a small device protruding ever slightly from the snow. "Looks like there are more of those insignias!"

Captain America immediately jogged to her side and brushed the snow from the machine. "I don't recognise the tech. Better call Fury to send his boys down." Without skipping a breath, Captain America produced a tiny digital camera from his parka and took snapshots of the device from all possible angles.

The radio crackled to life. "Cap, I can see something," Quicksilver's voice said. "Out in the water. It's not very clear, but I think it's a ship, a carrier maybe... I can't make it out. This is a restricted area, isn't it?"

"It is, Pietro. There was no report of any ships around here. Whoever they are, they're in a heap of trouble. I'll get Tony to investigate. Out. Iron Man, come in."

"Hey Cap, what's up?" came the distorted reply.

"Pietro's spotted a ship. I need you to home in on his position and investigate."

"On my way now." For a moment he paused. "Wait a sec... We've got something up here. Whatever it is, it's big."

The near distance

"I don't like this," said the Autobot as he soared silently through the mists above the snowfields.

"Relax, Skyfire," came a voice from the aircraft carrier below. "We're invisible to their technology, and even then they're only humans. They won't be able to hurt us."

"It's not that," the guargantuan aircraft continued. "We shouldn't be here, Broadside. What we're doing is no better than what the Decepticons would do."

Broadside was silent for a moment as he pumped oil from the underwater pipes into his bowels. "We're low on energon. Right now we do what we must to survive. We're at war."

"We're at war with the Decepticons, not the humans," Skyfire reasoned. "But if we keep doing this..."

Suddenly a voice came over the frequency, broadcast on a human wavelength. "Unidentified craft, this is General Nicholas Fury of the United States homeland security force, SHIELD. You are in restricted airspace. Surrender yourselves immediately for questioning or you will be considered hostile."

"Broadside, you don't think they...?"

"Skyfire!" A bright blue beam of light shot through the fog, striking the flying Autobot on its wing and causing for it to struggle. After taking a moment to restablize Skyfire scanned beside him to notice a red, yellow and black metallic humanoid cruising beside him on foot-mounted rockets.

"I don't know who you are or how you managed to keep off my radar, but I'm here to take you down," Iron Man told him sternly. "One way or another."

"So much for avoiding conflict," quipped Broadside.

"No. I will not fight. They are not the enemy." Taking a drastic turn Skyfire pointed his nose upward and fired his afterburners, propelling him into the stratosphere.

"Skyfire! What are you doing?"

"He won't be able to follow me up here!" For some distance Iron Man kept in range of Skyfire, his body pointed straight like a living missile: but it was only a matter of time before he began to fall back.

"General Fury," he addressed his radio. "He's going into sub-orbit. I can't keep dogging him like this."

"Take him out, Tony," came the order. "One way or another."

"Confirmed," he sighed anxiously. As much as he loved being Iron Man he hated playing soldier, putting human life at risk whether it be friend or foe: but the questions before him were too great to be left unanswered. With very precise and computer coordinated aim Iron Man pointed the blaster installed in his palm in the direction of Skyfire's afterburners.

With a mighty boom and great balls of flame the rear end of the enemy craft exploded, leaving it to plummet backwards into the Earth below. Iron Man gave chase, waiting impatiently for a pilot or crew to bail out and parachute to safety. He mumbled to himself, "Come on, come on..."

He burst downwards, placing himself within the falling craft's trajectory. Screw it, he was drunk enough to play hero and rip the pilot straight from the cockpit if need be: but the cockpit was empty.

Skyfire crashed into the ice as Iron Man evaded being crushed with only moments to spare. The shockwave sent a million more cracks running through the snow covered ground and created an atmosphere twice as difficult to navigate in as before.

"Whoa," gasped Pietro, now standing immediately beside the wreckage. He was impressed by the sheer force of it all.

Iron Man landed beside him and took a few heavy steps forward. "There was no crew."

"So what could it have been?" asked Quicksilver. "Remote control?"

"We... are not... your enemy..." came a weak, electronic voice. Amazed, the two Ultimates ventured a little closer to inspect it's source. "We... mean you... no... harm..."

"I thought you said there was no crew!" Quicksilver chided angrily.

Before they could argue further the twisted pile of metal began to shift, taking a strangely familiar form. Soon it towered over them, nearly eighty feet tall and in the shape of a man. On it's wings, now strapped to it's back were the insignias shown to them by Fury in the briefing room. Whatever it was they were looking for they'd just found it.

"General Fury," Tony gasped into his radio with amazement. "The craft, it just... it just..."

"It just transformed, man!" screamed Pietro with panic. He watched as the machine tended to it's knee, most probably severely damaged in the crash. "It was a jet, now we're face to face with a giant robot!"

"A what?" Captain America yelled into the receiver to be heard over the roaring blades of the blackhawk helicopter tearing through the skies over the freezing waters.

He was interrupted by the pilot pointing ahead. "Captain, we've just sighted an unmarked aircraft carrier dead ahead."

"A giant robot!" Pietro gasped again in the background.

"Okay team, the situation has changed," came Fury's voice. "Iron Man is face to face with an enemy super-weapon. A team is being sent to investigate the aircraft carrier. Captain America, go back and help Iron Man."

"Negative," he protested as he peeked his head out for a better view. "We're already in position."

Fury growled. "That was an order, Captain. You have no choice in the matter. Go back and help Iron Man!"

Before he could argue the chopper pulled back violently to avoid a string of missiles shooting by them. Captain America unfastened the straps on his chair and grabbed the rifle of the soldier next to him. "I'm sorry, General, but your men won't be able to get near that thing. I need to move now."

"A team has already been dis-" He didn't hear the rest of Fury's argument. Nearly two hundred feet above the runway Captain America leapt into the open air and almost glided to the ship, landing gracefully poised after a perfectly executed judo roll. Any other man would have been severely injured or killed in the fall, but he was a super-soldier with limits far exceeding those of any normal man.

He stuck to the corners and scanned the area for signs of life. There was nothing. The ship appeared to be unmanned. Perhaps it was being controlled from a distance, perhaps it was run on an automated system: there was no way of knowing.

"It would be wise of you to flee with haste," said an electronic voice. It seemed to emanate from all around him. The voice was well spoken and the English fluent: for a moment Captain America entertained the grim idea of battling terrorists originating on his native soil.

"Show yourself," he ordered sternly while holding his shield and rifle ready for battle. His eyes scanned from his alert crouch as he slowly made his way to a more open area of the runway.

"You have been warned." The platform below him shuddered and creaked loudly as the entire ship began to upturn. As he slid down the smooth runway Cap searched frantically for something to hold onto which eventually came when a series of smooth, even cracks appeared in the floor. Piece by piece large slabs of sliding metal rearranged themselves forcing the super-solider to duck and weave as he swung dramatically from point to point. In a matter of seconds the ship had entirely transformed, now the shape of a robot standing twelve-hundred feet tall with Captain America dangling desperately from a plate on it's elbow.

"What the hell are you?" he bellowed as he searched for some better footing.

A battalion of SHIELD helicopters descended and fighters streaked by, circling the metallic monster before them. The first barrage of missiles struck it's chest causing it to take a few awkward steps and leaving Captain America to struggle for his grip.

With no hesitation the robot drew a large hand-held cannon and with a single blast of energy obliterated a significant portion of airships attacking it. Deterred, the other ships drew back and regrouped for a second unrelenting attack. Never before had they seen that kind of power but they did not hesitate to try again: not until they had their orders to pull back.

"Damn it," Captain America cursed under his breath. Over a dozen lives had been snuffed out with a single shot before his very eyes. He had to do something. He had to find the cockpit and take out the pilot and beat him to within an inch of his life. He had to stop this before it became a massacre.

As the robot shifted to take aim it's other arm started to rise. There was now a good stretch of flat surface that he'd have to race across to reach the head: at least he hoped that's where the cockpit was located. With the speed of an Olympic runner he sprinted across the distance, gradually making his way to the beast's shoulder.

It's neck turned only to notice at the last moment the red, white and blue vibranium shield propelling into it's visor, smashing it into millions of pieces. The beast threw it's head back. Yes, Cap thought, you've hurt it: now finish the job. In his desperation he aimed his other weapon into the black socket he'd knocked open and unleashed round after round of rapid machine gun fire into it.

"I can't see!" Broadside yelped as he shuddered forward.

Finally losing his balance Captain America went into freefall, right back into the icy water just like that fateful day back in 1945. The water crashed against his back like a concrete slab and the cold quickly sapped away whatever strength he had left. He tried to struggle, but already it was getting dark. No, he had to find a way back... and then there was the familiar black.

A second stream of laser fire caused the fighters to scramble. Radios blared with orders from Fury to retreat and take point for a third flank. Skyfire struggled towards his blinded fellow Autobot and trailed what remained of his leg behind.

"We haven't much time," Skyfire told him. "The space-bridge has been opened. You'll have to carry me if we're going to make it."

"I can't see," said Broadside painfully.

"Then I'll be your eyes." As he draped his arm over Broadside's shoulder Skyfire scanned the waters below and saw a single body falling slowly to the cold depths. "Broadside, there is a man in the water."

"Yes," he answered matter of factly.

"Humans need oxygen to survive."

"Oh. I see." With a single scoop of his metallic hand Broadside caught Captain America and drew him back up to the surface. "There has been enough life lost today."

Skyfire looked back to see the third attack approaching. "We haven't time to drop him ashore. We have to press on."

Thunder and lightning roared in the wake of the choppers as the mighty blonde-haired god Thor propelled himself onward with his mighty hammer. Electricity danced from his solid muscles and charged his bright blue eyes, thirsty for battle in retribution of his fallen teammates.

"First priority is to find Captain America," General Fury told him via comm-link. "Taking out the enemy at this point is just a bonus."

"I'm confident that I can do both, General," stated the god of thunder proudly. Searching through the mists he finally caught a glimpse of two epic forms retreating waist-deep through the ocean. "Enemy sighted. Moving in."

Before he could summon a bolt of lightning an aurora of lights and a deep hum emanated from nearby. With a loud boom they stopped just as suddenly as they'd started.

"Thor? What the hell was that?"

"I don't know," he murmured.

A wave of water rose and slammed into Thor like a cold, angry fist as something beneath the waves exploded. The following moments were calm and nothing more was to follow. After venturing back to investigate the immediate area the god of thunder found nothing. He bowed his head sadly.

"We lost them, General," he sighed.

"And Captain America?"

Thor tightened his grip angrily. "M.I.A."

Unbeknownst to the Ultimates, not all of their targets had left the battlezone. A small bird-like android retracted a tiny video camera back into its head. Swiftly it turned and soared towards the open ocean.

TO BE CONTINUED...