Flood lights danced off the wall of glass that made up the side of a massive sky scraper, joining in to the collection of new lights and the sea of flash photography. Helicopters roamed around the outside of the massive structure. Between the helicopters pushed a VTOL. Its dark green skin seemed only to get darker as the lights converged onto it. As the craft approached the building the pilots elevated their plane and soared over the roof.
Inside the VTol a dozen men sat on the padded seats, dressed in combat armor. Helmets covered their heads revealing only their faces. Between the two rows of seats strode a man in a dark green uniform, his chest adorned in small pins and medals. A black beret rested upon his grey hair, a silver mustache sprouted from below his nose.
"Gentlemen, inside this building over a half dozen hostages have been taken by an unknown number of terrorists. They are well armed, well provisioned Middle Eastern radicals influenced by Russian Revolutionary propaganda. Their leader is known only by his codename The Prince. We have photographic proof he is in the building," the man explained," you are to go in and neutralize the cell, understand?"
A chorus of 'Yes Sir's echoed through the VTOL before the Commander turned,
"Hangman?" he asked.
"Got it Sir," a voice appeared from the rear of the cabin," Kill all the bad guys, watch all our guys, and make sure the Prince goes down,"
Surprise rolled through the seated men as a figure appeared out of thin air. Its body was made out of interconnected silver tubes that created a human body. Silver boots, knee and elbow pads. Gloves wrapped around his hands, as a mask covered his face. A respirator looking device rested over his mouth. A single red lens spread across the front of the being's face.
"Men meet Hangman, one of several soldiers testing our new Nano suit technology," the Commander said with a sweeping hand gesture. The silver man strode forward and approached a young soldier.
"Nova Pistol?" Hangman asked. His response was a frantic nod," Silenced?"
Another nod, which was followed by Hangman holding out an open hand.
"Sir this my back up weapon, what if my Scar run's empty?" the soldier asked nervously.
"Then don't miss," Hangman replied impatiently. Reluctantly the soldier handed Hangman his weapon and holster. Attaching the weapon to his thigh the silver soldier disappeared again. The rear hatch to the VTOL opened wide and the soldiers rose from their seats. Dropping onto the roof they hurried across the surface to form up around the door atop the roof.
"Hangman you with us?" the lead soldier asked, before a voice replied from across the roof top.
"No, I'm taking another rout, just stick together and watch the corners," Hangman replied as his fingers wrapped around the grate of an air vent. With ease he tore the metal grill off of the duct and slid inside. As his body fit into the shaft the Nano suit reappeared. Stealthily creeping down the shaft Hangman listened as the soldiers made their way through the first stairwell. Slowly the soldiers opened the first door, and found the hallway littered with desks and tables, papers coated the floor. Crouching, their weapons watched the hallway as they crept further into the gloom.
Carefully the men approached the first desk, when the sound of a toilet flushing and from behind one of the doors appeared an armed man. Dressed in civilian clothing his chest bulged were he wore a bullet proof vest beneath. His dark colored eyes widened as he spotted the precession of soldiers in the hallway. His gun came up as he prepared to rise a cry of alarm. A moment later his head was turned in an awkward angle and he collapsed to the ground. A sigh of relief escaped the chest of each of the soldiers.
"More will be on the way soon; the hostages are several floors down. I'll see you there," Hangman reported as he slipped back into the vents. The squad of soldiers disappeared back into the stair case. Carefully descending the stairs the soldiers arrived at the next floor. Opening the door slightly the lead solider peered through it. This hallway was like the last, covered in scattered papers, and blocked by desks and tables. Poking the barrel of his gun through the doorway the soldier prepared to enter the hall when he caught site of movement coming from behind one of the overturned desks.
"Be ready they know we're coming," the lead soldier warned his men as he placed his gun on the ground. Taking a grenade from his belt he popped the pin and held down on the spoon.
"Winters take the door," the soldier ordered. Behind the lead soldier another moved to the opposite side of the doorframe. With a shove Winters pushed the door open all the way, and the lead soldier whipped his arm around. Leaving his hand the grenade spun through the air, and the spoon ejected itself from the device. Striking the ground the canister rolled, as Winters slammed the door shut. Several seconds passed before a small explosion sounded in the next room, and brilliant white light shone momentarily through the bottom of the door.
Swiftly the soldiers spun into the hall, weapons at the ready. Bright red laser pointers painted the far wall as they leapt from beneath the barrel of each gun. Gunfire erupted as the soldiers began to engage the terrorists. Blood splattered against the walls as the blinded men stumbled about. Using the disability against their enemies the soldiers weapons flashed as their sights leapt from one terrorist to the next. As the effects of the grenade began to wear off the gunmen began to hide behind cover.
Ducking down on the opposite side of the desks the soldiers hid as the terrorists began to unleash their own hailstorm of gunfire. At the far end of the hall a pair of terrorists slapped a fresh belt of ammunition into a light machine gun. Bracing it against the floor one of the terrorists laid behind the weapon, bracing the stock against his shoulder. Peering down the sights the terrorists watched and waited for the soldiers to reappear.
As the gunfire died down the soldiers gripped their weapons in anxious tension before a pair burst from cover in attempt to dash to the next barrier, when the terrorists opened fire with their machine gun. The first soldier was cut down under the intense rate of fire, while his comrades watched on unable to save him. A bullet tore through the leg of the other soldier as he threw himself down behind the cover of the next set of desks. A cry of pain rang out down the length of the hall as the gunfire continued to pin down the remaining men.
"Joker you ok?" the lead soldier shouted, sweat beaded on his tan skin.
"Yeah Sarge," he croaked," I'll be fine, but Scotty…."
"I know, just keep your head down we'll get you out soon," Sarge shouted back.
"Follow your own advice Sarge," Hangman's voice appeared in his ear.
At the end of the hall behind the machine gun crazed terrorists a grate fell from the air ducts. In his cloaked form Hangman drew his pistol. Thumbing the safety Hangman leveled his pistol with the back of the shooter's head. With a quick tap of the trigger Hangman's weapon snapped back in his hands, while his arms remained still. A soft chirp sounded in the hallway and the terrorist's unprotected head exploded into a cloud of blood and brain matter. As his partner's gunfire fell silent the second terrorist turned and watched as Hangman phased back into reality.
Fear spread across the Islamic man's face as the silver golem stood over him, Nova in hand. In a soft flash of light all emotions left the man, as blood trickled from the gaping wound between his eyes. With the loss of their covering fire the terrorists turned as Hangman sprinted forward, some of the veins of his suit glowing yellow. Passing by some of the debris Hangman dropped into a slide. As he slid over the papers his hand lashed out and took hold of a fallen Scar. Bending his ankle Hangman popped up and his suit went back to its silver form.
Standing over Joker, Hangman shouldered the Scar, and stared down the holographic sight. Heads popped up over the desks as the terrorists attempted to pick up where their fallen comrades had left off, but their efforts were meaningless as Hangman began to pick them off with unmatched precision. Each terrorist fell, without firing a single shot. Slowly Hangman worked his way between each desk. Occasionally he stopped to relive a fallen terrorist of his ammunition. Slipping the magazines into a pouch he found on one of the fallen men.
Strapping the pack to his thigh Hangman turned and slammed a fresh mag into his rifle. Turning he pointed to two of the soldiers,
"Stay with him, wait till evac," he ordered indicating for towards Joker," The rest of you with me. This staircase ends on the next floor from there we have to get down the hallway in order to get to the next one, and from there we need to get to the conference room on the floor beneath that to get to the hostages,"
Brushing past Sarge Hangman made his way back to the staircase and kicked the door off of its hinges. Standing beside the fallen gate he waited with an impatient air about him as the soldiers shuffled into the stair well. Gripping their weapons the soldiers sped down the staircase. Coming to the next door Sarge selected two men. Forming up on either side of the door they performed the same entrance. As the flash grenade exploded Hangman pushed past the soldiers and made his way into the chaotic hallway. Similar fortifications has been erected with desks on this hallway as they had been on the previous two.
Raising his leg Hangman lashed out with his foot, catching the edge of the desk he sent the opposite side into the stomach of a terrorist. As the air rushed from the terrorist's lungs Hangman leapt onto the desk and brought the butt end of the rifle around, cracking the terrorist across the jaw, twisting his neck into an awkward angle. Spinning Hangman took aim at another one of the gunmen, and with a quick burst from his Scar he dispatched the threat. Pain flared through his right arm as the terrorists began their attack. His muscles tensed and the silver coils seemed to glow. Rounds bounced off of Hangman's body as he strode forward, the soldiers filing in behind him.
The Scar kicked in his hand as he sent a burst into the chest of one of the terrorists. With a click his weapon ran dry and Hangman dropped down behind a desk. His armor lost its luster as he knocked the empty clip from his Scar with a fresh one which he slammed into place a moment later. Drawing back the weapon's bolt Hangman faded from reality and spun from behind the desk. Ducking and weaving the soldier avoided the crossing streams of ammunition. Lining up the sights of the stolen Scar with a terrorist's head he gently pulled down on the trigger. A moment later the man's head was a cloud of blood as he fell, his weapon firing sporadically.
In moments the hallway was cleared without causalities. Pressing forward the men followed Hangman down the hall to the next staircase. As he passed by a fallen gunman Hangman crouched and picked up his Marshal shotgun. Pumping the weapon he ejected the spent round and from the man's vest he reloaded the weapon.
"Let's go," he ordered as he threw open the door. As they arrived at the next hallway the men formed up to breach the entrance when Hangman placed his hand on Sarge's shoulder. Looking back over his shoulder Sarge watched as Hangman shook his head and slipped between the soldiers and the door. His armor began to glow silver once again. Kicking open the door Hangman shouldered the shotgun, and squeezed the trigger. The first terrorist fell, his chest shredded into hundreds of pieces. Pumping the action the empty shell spun through the air smoking before it clattered to the ground.
Sweeping the barrel of the gun across the air in front of himself Hangman squeezed the trigger again, and a second shell tore through one of the terrorists' protective vest. Pumping the action again Hangman sent another shell into the man, this time rewarded with a cloud of flesh and blood that sprayed his visor. Whipping away the blood and gore Hangman leapt over a desk and dropped down behind it. In seconds he disappeared and slipped out from behind the desk as the terrorists began to panic.
One of the terrorists rose with a grenade in hand. Pulling the trigger of his weapon the familiar kick of the Marshall knocked him out of his cloak, and sprayed the meat of the man's neck on the wall beside where he stood. The reflection of the lights outside caught the spinning spoon that flew through the air as the terrorist dropped the grenade. The explosive rolled across the floor and into the center of the hall. Hangman's Nano suit began to glow silver as the muscles tightened. A moment later the grenade went off, and pain flared through his chest as he staggered back. Wheezing sounded from behind the respirator type mask as the suit faded and fragments of the grenade clattered to the ground followed by Hangman's knee.
His hand balled into a fist and his knuckles dug into the tiled floor as the pain in his chest began to subside and the warnings inside of his visor began to fade. Looking up Hangman watched as the terrorists trained their weapons towards his body. Chirps filled the hall as the forgotten soldiers burst from the stairwell. Caught off guard the gunmen were unable to react and were slaughtered as Hangman dropped to the floor. As the friendly gunfire died he rose and pumped the shotgun again. One of the terrorists cried out in pain as he gripped his wounded leg.
Placing the barrel of his shotgun against the terrorist's opposite leg. With a brief jolt of the weapon shook in his hand, obliterating the man's leg before Hangman pumped it again. A second slug took the man in the chest ending his pain. On the side of the hall a door opened and a gun barrel poked out. Shouldering the shot gun again Hangman instinctively poked the door and wall full of holes before it slammed shut. Tossing the weapon aside Hangman dropped down and picked up a scar, a grenade launcher attached to the under barrel.
In one fluid motion he clicked the weapon and set it to the grenade launcher. Aiming it towards the door Hangman tugged on the curved piece of plastic, and the gun snapped back in his hand. Glass from the small window in the door shattered as the grenade burst through it. Seconds later an explosion sounded inside of the room. From outside of the building news crews watched as glass rained down onto the street as the explosion blew out several window panels, and pieces of human beings rained down onto the street, forcing screams from the mouths of onlookers.
More gun fire barked from the end of the hall where more terrorists had appeared. Taking up his Marshall Hangman dashed forward his Nano suit glowing silver. Drawing closer to one of the terrorists his suit changed color yet again. Shifting from silver to red the crimson eyed golem brought his left arm around, catching one of the gunmen in the chest. The force of the blow sent the man back into the wall. Cracks formed in the plaster as the man's body hung against the wall for a moment before he collapsed to the floor, blood trailing between his lips.
Pumping the Marshall the silver golem charged forward his armor fading back to its gunmetal grey. Gaining courage one of the terrorists rushed Hangman, rifle raised high above his head, the stock aimed at Hangman's head. The Marshall's barrel exploded in brilliant light and the terrorist shot backwards, blood spraying through the air. Hearing the Marshall click empty Hangman reached out and tore a sheath off the terrorist who flew away from him.
Tossing the emptied shot gun aside Hangman drew a knife from within the sheath. Flipping the blade in his hand his Nano tech covered fingers grabbed the tip delicately. The suit's veins began to glow red as Hangman whipped his arm around and released the knife. Spinning through the air at blinding speeds the weapon hurtled through the air. The tip of the knife buried itself into the chest of a terrorist who burst from behind a desk Grendel raised. His eyes rolled back into their sockets as the knife grip sank past the protective vest that covered his chest. Sinking to his knees the terrorist slumped forward with a soft thud.
Drawing the Nova from his thigh Hangman strode forward while the soldiers swept the hall behind him.
"All that's left is to go rescue the hostages," Hangman voiced," Now do as I tell you,"
With a crash the massive oak door fell back off of its hinges into the large office. Windows lined the far right wall, as against the far wall rested a desk. Above the desk hung a massive sign that read Crynet. Soldiers swept into the room, and their weapons trained on the far wall. Beneath the sign stood a man over six feet tall. A red bandana wrapped around the tan skin of his bald forehead. A pair of hardened brown eyes glared at the soldiers as a scowl appeared beneath the black hairs of his beard. He wore a green vest over a black bullet proof vest and tee-shirt.
Extra ammunition clips sprang from the pockets of his olive green cargo pants. A pistol was gripped in his right hand, as the barrel was placed against the side of a young woman's head. Her bright blue eyes were wide with terror as the barrel of the weapon pushed her red hair back. Tears streamed down her freckled cheeks as she tried to hold them back.
"One move and I swear her blood will be splattered across this wall," the Prince threatened.
"What do you want?" Sarge questioned as he and his men lowered their weapons.
"Bring me Hardgreeve," The Prince ordered as he drew back the hammer on his pistol.
"Alright," Sarge answered as he placed a hand to his ear bud," Sir, this is Sarge. We have eyes on the Prince, he wants Hardgreeve,"
Behind the wall the Prince used as cover ran another hallway. Taking in a deep breath his muscles tensed and the veins began to glow red. Drawing his arm back Hangman threw the fist towards the wall. Breaking through the wall Hangman's forearm wrapped around the Prince's throat. With one fluid motion he pulled the terrorist back through the wall. Debris rained down on the carpet as the man landed on the floor. Panic grasped the killer as he eyed the red eyed Cyclops. Raising his pistol he leveled the barrel with Hangman's chest. His suit flashed from red to silver.
The rounds bounced off of Hangman's body as the Prince crawled back across the carpet. In seconds the magazine clicked empty. As his armor faded from silver back to its normal color Hangman strode forward and crouched over the terrorist. Wrapping his hands around the man's throat he lifted him off of the ground,
"My turn," Hangman snarled as he moved towards a window. The veins began to glow red again as he pulled the man back before he launched him forward, and through the glass. A shrill scream came from the killer as he tumbled through the air. Arms flailing the man plummeted down the side of the skyscraper as flood lights latched onto him. They followed him to the ground, where his body slammed onto the top of a crossing signal. Screams rang out as his body began to slide down the pole when the lights flashed towards the broken window, where Hangman stood cloaked. Turning he strode towards the soldiers who stood waiting for him in the hall. Suddenly from the stairwell burst a dozen men in white armor, faces hidden behind masks and goggles. De-cloaking Hangman watched as they approached.
"Good work Hangman," the lead man announced as he saluted the golem.
"Who are you?" Sarge asked as he and his men raised their weapons.
"We are Cell," the man replied," I'm Commander Johnson, we made the suit your Hangman here used to save your asses,"
Turning to Hangman he finished his statement,
"You need to come in now, need to run a scan of the suit,"
Nodding Hangman began to stride forward into the circle of men in white armor. Towards the back of the group Winters peered into the circle when he heard a distinguished voice speaking in the ear of one of the Cell operatives.
"Disable the suit Commander, than kill Hangman," the voice ordered," And bring me Prophet,"
Winter's eyes opened wide as he stepped back, a moment too late. The sound of metal striking the floor sounded in the hallway as a cylinder landed at Hangman's feet a moment before it went off sending a pulse through the floor. Hangman's suit flickered before it appeared to lock up and he fell to the floor. The Cell pointed their weapons towards the downed god. A bang rang out as one of the Cell fell forward, blood seeping from the back of his head. The Cell turned and eyed Winters as he stood, Nova pointing towards where the operative had been.
"That's it kill them all," Johnson roared as he prepared to fire upon Winters, until a computer voice sounded from behind him.
"Suit functions online, Hangman operational"
Turning Johnson watched as a silver blur marked by glowing red streaks broke through his goggles, and felt a brief flicker of pain.