Capekillers #10

Separation Anxiety, Part One of Two:

"Redemption"

By Tim Veselka

Fort Raymond – 08:17

Crowne sat with his fingers crossed comfortably on the interrogation desk in front of him, across from him sat a very nervous and profusely sweating agent Eric O'Grady. "That's quite an interesting story, O'Grady."

O'Grady nodded and smiled nervously at the Shield administrator. "That's what it's like when you become a superhero."

Crowne's eyes narrowed dangerously. "You aren't a superhero O'Grady, you are an agent of Shield, and as such, you should have reported to me."

"I know, sir, but I really didn't have a chance I basically followed the plans wherever they went and Hood never let it leave his sight."

"That doesn't explain why you didn't use the Shield communicator built into your helmet to contact us."

"It has a Shield communicator built in?"

Crowne sighed and closed his eyes tightly, pinching the bridge of his nose. "So in all this time Hood never sold the plans?"

"Actually he did."

"What?!"

"Well, that is what made set my plan into action," O'Grady said. "I happened to remember that I had an extra USB drive and so right when he was about to sell it I swapped them and ran back o Shield. I didn't think I would get away with my life but I couldn't let them get those plans out to the criminal world. I couldn't live with myself."

Crowne didn't believe him for a second, however, he had no evidence to say otherwise.

"Well," Crowne sighed and straightened O'Grady's physical file. "You'll have to go through a full debriefing with Harrison later today but for now, turn in the suit and rejoin your squad in their quarters."

"I have to turn in the suit? I was just really getting to know how it worked. I thought since I was the only agent with any real experience in the suit I would get to keep it."

"O'Grady, neither you nor the suit's fate has been decided, until you hear otherwise you are to return the suit over to the armory and return to your designated quarters."

"Well I just thought -"

"I don't care what you thought, return the suit and go to your quarters, that is a direct order, O'Grady!"

"Yes, sir," the young Shield agent's face smoldered under his saluting hand. O'Grady spun on his heel and briskly exited the room.

Crowne stared after the young man. He didn't trust him for a second. It was agents like O'Grady that made Crowne doubt the validity of Shield's psychoanalysts. How could a cowardly little liar like that get into Shield and be allowed access to deep organizational secrets like the Ant-Man suit? Worse, the damn kid had a point, he was the only one with any experience in the suit, if things came to a pinch, Crowne wouldn't hesitate to put him in it again, if it meant getting closer to his goals.

Still, he wasn't sure. Maybe Hood had managed to sell the suit plans to the underground, he probably had at least copied them. Maybe Hood had caught the cowardly O'Grady and had coerced him into returning to Shield as a spy. Maybe it was all true except O'Grady had really just waited for the first opportunity that lead to no risk to him and Hood had done a great deal with the plans. Maybe, maybe, maybe. The uncertainties swirled through Crowne's head. The life of a Shield Project Director wasn't easy.

Elsewhere in Fort Raymond

Harrison had gathered the human Capekillers in a small break room close to their living quarters. These were the Shield agents that had started it all. Cancino, he was just a little older and more experienced than the rest of the team, which was why he was now their second in command. He was also the only black man in the group. Castillo, a shorter but fit Latino who hailed initially from Guatemala before immigrating to the US as a young child. Hunter, his father was an American soldier who had actually rescued his mother from the horrors of North Korea during a secret government mission. They might sound like a motley crew to some but all Harrison saw was potential.

"Listen up!" Harrison barked as the three began to get dressed again. All of them had needed a shower. "Not only is Agent O'Grady returning to join us in our quarters and on our team, but we also will be getting another roommate."

"Mulligan," Cancino guessed.

"That's right," Harrison looked at his team to see if their faces betrayed a problem with this new development.

"I'd take him over O'Grady any day," Castillo said.

"I was surprised he wasn't picked for the team, to begin with," Cancino said. "I'm just not sure about that symbiote he's got stuck to him"

"I'm glad someone else said it," Hunter mumbled. "That thing is dangerous and obviously he doesn't have full control over it."

"The same could be said about you and your power suit," Harrison cracked. "Look, it's not his fault what happened to him. We can either treat him like a monster which would only help push him in that direction, or we could treat him like a teammate and maybe he'll stay one. You all need to make him feel welcome, that's an order."

"You got no complaints from me," Cancino straightened up and saluted. Harrison appreciated the gesture, that's part of why he liked Cancino so much, he always led by example. "That goes for the rest of us too!"

Cancino nodded his assent and after a couple of seconds of hard stares from his teammates Hunter mumbled his agreement as well. As if it was planned the second they finished a knock sounded on the door.

"Come in!" Harrison barked. He knew who it was going to be.

"Thank you, sir," Mulligan came in, his steps unsure. He had been stationed on the base before he had become Toxin but he hadn't actually been a member of the Capekillers team. He wasn't an idiot and knew the kind of baggage he was bringing. Cancino nodded a greeting at him and Mulligan relaxed ever so slightly. Castillo gave him half a smile but Hunter avoided his gaze altogether.

"Well, I am going to let you get settled," Harrison gave a pointed look at Hunter before turning and leaving.

"Glad you finally joined the team," Cancino said once Harrison had left.

"Thanks," Mulligan said.

There was silence for a few minutes that seemed to stretch on for eternity, it was heavy and awkward.

"O'Grady is going to be joining us," Castillo offered up clumsily.

"Well at least I won't be the only one," Mulligan muttered under his breath.

"Only one what?" Hunter asked, an obvious hint of belligerence in his voice.

"Nothing," Mulligan instantly regretted opening his mouth.

"No, I think we need to hear this, only one what, Mulligan?"

"At least I won't be the only pariah on the team, the only one you others see as a traitor even though I came back, even though I am standing here now of my own free will and not killing your dumb ass because I have some self-restraint."

"Ha!" Cancino started laughing unexpectedly. "It's true, Hunter, why are you provoking a dude that could kill you with a thought? Besides, I think he has proven he can control his temper and not slaughter us at the slightest provocation."

"Just what I needed to see," Hunter smiled and extended his hand. Mulligan grinned and shook it.

"You're kind of a dumbass," Mulligan shoved Hunter's shoulder.

"I know."

"Good, so am I."

The four of them chuckled at that. It wasn't long before they were all cracking jokes about Hunter until he threatened to tell Harrison how they had made fun of him behind his back after their last mission. That shut them up, for about two seconds.

"Seriously man," Castillo was actually the one to say this. "How did you get back control from your symbiote enough to come back to Shield?" Hunter and Cancino looked at him like he were insane for asking.

"I wouldn't say I had to get back control per se," Mulligan answered, a faraway look taking over his eyes. "I just had to get him to see my point of view."

"Oh, so it's a reasonable monster?"

"It's not a monster!" Mulligan said this louder and more forcefully than he had intended, a vein pulsing in his neck.

"Dude, chill, it was a joke," Castillo held up his hands in defeat.

"Sure."

"Come on, man, let's just forget it," Cancino said, shooting Castillo a hard look.

"Yeah, no problem," Mulligan cast his eyes about looking for a drink, hoping someone had snuck some in. He needed to calm his nerves, he hadn't usually relied on liquor to soothe himself but he had been through so much in the past week and it was as if Hunter and Castillo were trying to piss him off.

Seeing his wandering gaze and guessing what he needed Castillo pulled out a bottle of whiskey from his chest pocket. "Let's drink to the future."

"I'm definitely all about that," Mulligan said and grabbed the bottle after Castillo had poured some down his gaping mouth.

What is this? The symbiote seemed almost alarmed as Mulligan swiftly guzzled down the hard liquor.

"It's alcohol," Mulligan responded out loud forgetting where he was for just the smallest of moments. Everyone looked at him questioningly for a moment.

"What did you think it was, genius?" Castillo asked, grabbing the bottle back and handing it over to a waiting Hunter. They passed the bottle around a few times. Patrick's nerves were definitely beginning to settle. The symbiote, on the other hand, was very confused.

What is happening to me?

Nothing bad. Mulligan concentrated hard so he could communicate without speaking aloud. You're just a little buzzed.

Buzzed?

It's a way we relax.

I'm not sure I like it.

You'll learn to.

They argued about politics until a knock came on the door once more.

"Come in!" Cancino called out, expecting O'Grady to walk through the door. He instantly regretted it. It wasn't O'Grady. It was two Shield agents Cancino didn't recognize. Their white-dominated suits indicated they were part of Shield's medical division. The pair of them stared disapprovingly at the whiskey bottle Castillo was currently holding in his right hand. He quickly tucked into a pocket.

"Agent Mulligan?" the two doctors stood staring blankly at them all. "Which one of you is agent Mulligan?"

Everyone glanced at Patrick. He raised his hand to indicate himself. They all glanced nervously at each other. Doctors rarely ever made house visits, even in Shield.

"The decision has been made that we will have to attempt to extract the symbiote from you," one doctor said coldly after clearing his throat.

"What?" adrenaline suddenly surged through Mulligan's veins. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled.

"There's not nearly as much danger to you as there is to the symbiote," the other doctor waved his hand dismissively in annoyance.

Patrick!

The symbiote had never used his name before.

"Are you kidding me?" Castillo yelled at the doctors as they left the break room. "Can you believe that shit?"

Elsewhere in Fort Raymond

The previous day's events had awoken a hunger in Lucas unlike ever before. He wasn't as big on the generically American food that they served in the Fort's cafe but he didn't care. He grabbed a whole roasted chicken. One of the chefs gave him a look that normally would have frozen his blood. Instead, he simply took a bite directly out of the chicken and glared right back. The chef raised their eyebrows and turned back to their food.

"Well, at least one of us is hungry," Humphries noted with a disdainful sniff as he joined Lucas in the food line. By nine AM most of the agents were already gone, busy with their duties. Not Humphries and Lucas, they had to wait until later, because that was when criminals were active, at night. This was an early breakfast.

"I can't seem to get enough!" Lucas seemed almost as surprised as Humphries. He had always had a healthy appetite but this was his third serving and it consisted of a whole chicken. Humphries had finished eating at least twenty minutes ago. Of course, he was always considering his figure.

"Me either, my young friend," Humphries joked with a wink.

Lucas gave him a sideways look, "That's not what I meant."

"Oh?"

"You know what I meant!"

"I suppose," Humphries admitted, jokingly depressed sounding.

"Well! Don't let me interrupt two strapping young lads!" a high-pitched pseudo-sophisticated British voice rang in Lucas' ears.

"Slocum?!" Lucas gasped in surprise. An older agent, her exact years a deeply guarded secret, sat down next to him. Her hair was piled high in a magenta-colored beehive, her mascara was baby blue and her lipstick matched her hair, her wildly colorful makeup only accentuated the brightness of her hair color.

"Surprise!" she cried. She opened her arms wide for a hug that Lucas was reluctant to give. He didn't want to give her the wrong idea, and it took very little to give Agent Slocum the wrong idea. The short, mildly stout, middle-aged woman would never admit it to anyone but her cat but she was lonely.

As he hugged his much senior agent a face appeared in the background, a pretty young woman with thick blond locks that had always caught Lucas' deep brown eyes. Agent Brahms. She had been the prettiest girl in the British Shield Academy. At first, she had been quite cold with Lucas, rebuffing his attempts to get to know her. She eventually got to know him and the two had formed a close, though never quite romantic, bond.

"Brahms!" Lucas abandoned Slocum mid-hug. The older agent turned and silently cursed her younger protege, Brahms. She always had to steal the spotlight. Well, looks were temporary, just wait until Brahms was fifty-eight years old and see how she looked then. Slocum consoled herself by engaging with Humphries in conversation.

"He hasn't changed one bit," Slocum told Humphries.

"Is that a good thing or a bad thing?"

"A bit of both," she winked conspiratorially at him.

"I know what you mean," Humphries watched his protege flirt with Brahms. He had always had a soft spot for her. "However, I am almost sorry to say that you are wrong, Slocum, he has changed. Quite a bit in some ways."

"Oh?" Slocum leaned in close to get the juicy details. She always did love to gossip, and Humphries was usually more than happy to oblige.

"Well you'll have to ask him yourself," Humphries told Slocum. "I know he's been dying to show you all."

"Show us?" Slocum's curiosity was piqued. She got up from her seat and walked back toward the two flirting junior agents. "Are you free, Lucas?"

Lucas turned and gave her a bothered look, he had obviously been enjoying himself. He sighed. "I'm free."

"I hear that you have something to show us all."

Lucas's expression changed from annoyance to delight. "Right. I can't believe I forgot to show you." He held up an empty hand, then with a thought, the hand split open and crackled with stunning electricity. Just as fast the hand dropped on a hinge, revealing the laser barrel embedded into his new wrist.

"Good gracious!" Slocum was ever dramatic. "What have they done to your hand, young man?"

"I like it!" Brahms declared in her deep cockney accent. "Makes you all sexy and mysterious like."

"Well," Slocum reconsidered her words. "I'm sure it will help you be an even better agent of Shield."

"Yes," Humphries agreed with a forced smile. He didn't want to tell Slocum that he had lost his hand while under his watch. He still felt guilty. A bionic hand may seem interesting and sexy now but when one got older such things usually bothered the elderly with pains and infections. Humphries had known enough former agents in his lifetime. His own mentor, Granger, had a listening device implanted directly behind his ear, now he was nearly completely deaf. And grouchy.

Humphries watched on as the two female agents admired his young partner and his new multi-tool hand. He hoped someday that feeling of guilt knotted deeply inside his gut would go away. He doubted it.

Mimic and Constrictor's Quarters, Fort Raymond

Frank lay on his back, his fingers knotted behind his head. Calvin sat on the other side of the room, a glass of water in his hand as he sipped it while he lost himself in his thoughts. They hadn't said much to each other since returning from their mission to retrieve Toxin. It had been a success.

"Did you hear that Toxin will be staying with the agents rather than with us," Calvin finally ventured a question, his tone somewhere between accusatory and jealous.

"Good."

"It seems we're still considered the only two criminals on the team."

"Sure."

"Are you sorry we brought him in?"

"Why would I be?"

"If this keeps up we might be phased off of the team," Cal sounded like he was genuinely worried about this.

"And that's a bad thing?"

"Yeah. I am enjoying more freedom than I ever have since I was captured by Shield. The longer I am on the team, the more time I work off my sentence."

"You think this is worth it?"

"Yeah, I had a sentence so long that I wouldn't get out until I was an old man. Not now. I've already worked off enough time to get out by the time I'm 52."

"You have low expectations."

"What?"

"Look," Frank told him condescendingly. "I've been captured twelve times by Shield, twelve times, they can never hold me for very long. I don't care if they shorten my sentence or not, I will shorten for myself. You have such a slave mentality, Cal. You're happy to do whatever Master Shield tells you as long as he goes easy on you. I'm a free man, Shield may think they control me but I got my own plans."

"Shut up."

"You're not so bad, Cal, but you gotta stop thinking like a slave."

"Hmph" Mimic grunted. Frank said he wasn't so bad. That was high praise from the gruff Constrictor. Calvin could feel his cheeks getting warm.

"At least while I am stuck we've got shit worked out," Constrictor continued. "You don't try to piss me off and I don't hit you around."

"Yeah, okay," in a sudden switch of emotions anger raised its ugly head.

"Calm down," Frank grunted. "I didn't mean anything by it."

"Yeah, sure," Mimic said quietly. Damn Frank, he always had to take a nice situation and make it bad.

"No, I mean it," Frank insisted. "I respect you a lot more than when I first met you. You've been a good cellmate, Cal."

Cal didn't want to get suckered into falling into Frank's false friendship again, but he just couldn't help himself. He and Frank really were the only two criminals on the base. Calvin didn't interact with anyone else as much as he did Frank. Like it or not but when you had to live with someone, whether by choice or not, their happiness and thus your peace, meant a lot. Cal hated to admit he felt anything but an annoyance for Frank, but he knew better. He wished he and Frank could be friends. Mercenaries weren't friends though, you had co-workers that you worked well with but the mortality of their criminal profession alone guaranteed the end of almost any friendship you started up. That was the one thing that Calvin missed about the X-Men, the friendship, even if they hadn't actually been very good friends. It had been amongst the best he had in his life. Not that he had been much of a friend to any of them either. Still, he missed those days.

Behind his back, Frank rolled his eyes at his moody cellmate. At least he had just guaranteed himself some peace. Cal would be lost in his own thoughts for hours.

Hood's new Hideout

The last hideout has been shot all to hell by those damn powerless punks. Parker had found another warehouse that merely seemed abandoned from the outside. Inside it was fully furnished with multiple rooms including two bathrooms, a large break room decked out with a large TV and several gaming tables, ping pong, and billiards among them. From what the owner had told him it had been a place to make meth before the previous renters had moved out to the country for better business.

Joystick lounged like a cat on one of the leather sofas. Her eyes reminded Parker of a cat too, lazy and yet ready for violence in an instant, superior. He didn't like her. Too bad she was able to back up her bad attitude with a strength and ferocity unlike half of his motley crew. He looked forward to the day he didn't need her.

"So, what's our next job?" she asked, her eyelids half-shut, Hood was unsure whether she was trying to be seductive or intimidating, it didn't work either way.

"With the loss of Toxin I must rethink my plan," Hood let slip before he gave it much thought. He should know better than to show any hesitation or insecurity in front of a bunch of villains such as these.

Spider Woman arched an eyebrow at his admission, she was definitely crazy but Hood had a feeling she was more cunning than she ever let on. Her constant reminders of insanity always seemed to come when someone new was around or someone was questioning her insanity. It all seemed too convenient.

Lightmaster was better now, he sat on a separate couch from Joystick, leaning his head back against the cushions. Griffin stood behind him, Parker could see the snarl just waiting to manifest itself at the first offender. The man-beast hadn't said anything since their failed attack on Toxin. Most of them hadn't. Porcupine had kept himself occupied with fixing up his suit and resupplying it with his trick needles.

"I think I can get us a new team member while taking down the Capekillers at the same time," Hood told them. "It's all a matter of setting up the right situation. You will all play a part so don't worry I will have more work for you."

"That sounds really vague," Joystick commented.

"Who cares?" Spider Woman surprised everyone by being the one to speak on Hood's behalf. "As long as he is paying us what he promised what do you care what he has us do?"

"She's right," Porcupine spoke up. "Try working for Zemo sometime, I have, the guy is a slavedriver. I'm good with not having to work for my money."

"The problem is," another surprising comment, this one from Griffin. "He doesn't know what the hell he is doing." A growl punctuated his comment.

Hood turned to argue with the furry villain but Lightmaster interrupted. "Griffin's right. I've worked on a lot of teams over the years and it's pretty obvious this guy doesn't have a clue what he is doing."

"I don't mind getting paid for doing nothing," Joystick looked at Hood, her eyes narrowed. "As long as I don't get caught because I am following someone who doesn't know what they are doing."

"So, what's the plan, Hood?" Lightmaster prodded. "Or don't you know?" Hood opened his mouth to answer.

"He doesn't," Griffin growled again before Parker could get a word out.

"I knew it," Joystick sneered at him. That was the last straw. As if that bitch had any ground to stand on, she just went from job to job, with no plan or forethought. The gang erupted into wild arguing.

"Enough!" Hood roared. Flames roared to life on his back and head. His surprised gang went immediately silent.

"I do have a plan, but you need to learn your place. I am paying you all to carry out my orders, not advise me. If any of you even thinks twice about fucking up my plans that I will send your soul directly to Hell!"

As he shouted his face took on a more fiery hue, his eyes began to glow and his tongue grew thin and forked. The gang watched in morbid fascination as their boss began to change before their very eyes.

"You dumbasses think you can run a gang you can go and make your own," Hood jabbed a finger at the exit door. "As long as you work for me you are going to do what you are told f and I don't need to hear your complaints." The flames slowly began to die back down and his features shifted back to normal human shapes.

"You got it, boss," Lightmaster said without a hint of sarcasm. Ever since the Capekillers had brought him down Lightmaster had begun to doubt his considerable powers. He felt weak and unsure, things he wasn't used to feeling.

Hood glared at the rest of the gang, daring them to say something. No one did, the Griffin glared at him but he had lowered his hackles, no one else dared look Hood in the eyes. Hood's angry sneer slowly softened down to a contemptuous stare.

"You have all already earned your money," Hood relented. "I have some work to do that doesn't require your presence. Take a couple of days off then meet me back here. Just don't get arrested while you are out enjoying yourselves."

The gang stared at the Hood in shock. He had gone from shouting at them while on fire to giving them a couple of days off. They felt like they had whiplash.

"Go!" Hood shouted impatiently.

Without a word Lightmaster, Griffin, Spider Woman, Porcupine and Joystick filed out of the room, casting worried glances in Hood's direction.

Black Fox's Apartment, Manhattan

Raul Chambers had a very nice two-story apartment in Manhattan. He gave his neighbors the story that he was an art collector and had inherited his fortune. It was an easy way to excuse his late mornings and nights. He had decorated it with expensive art, just to keep up the pretense, he really wasn't that much of an art enthusiast. He stood in front of his massive corner window and stared out at the city, a glass of negroni in his hand.

A 'ding' rang through his living room. That was a very specific sound. He turned and placed his full glass down on his coffee table, on a coaster of course. He walked over to his kitchen and opened a drawer. It was filled with all kinds of random tools, screwdriver, a meat thermometer, a flashlight, and many other things, but most importantly an untraceable cell phone that he would dump once this mission was over.

He opened his texts and there was only one, just as he had expected, from an encoded number he had labeled 'Red'.

RED

I am back in and safe. The plans are what sealed the deal. What now?

Raul typed back quickly. He was sure his contact had little time to himself right now.

RAUL

Take it nice and slow. Don't rush this. We have time. Use the secondary drive to download the information if you can. Once the specs are downloaded we can get you out of there. Stay safe.

Raul stared at the phone, awaiting a response. He was just about to put the phone down, figuring 'RED' had to do the same thing when the ding sounded again.

RED

OK later

Raul put the phone down and closed the drawer. He was going to need to keep checking on it, there was no telling when Eric would actually come through. He wasn't truly sure if Eric would come through for him. Surely the nice life he had shown Eric would convince the boy not to just be another tool of more ambitious men. Of course, Raul was simply using him as well, but there was something endearing about the morally gray young Shield agent.

Raul smiled, if Eric did come through this would be the biggest break of his life. He couldn't even begin to calculate how much the underworld would be willing to pay for their very own Hulk recipe. Raul could see at least eight zeros in his mind. He had done a good job picking Eric out of all the new Shield agents that had come to Fort Raymond. It had been easier than he had thought to convince O'Grady to betray Shield.

He smiled to himself and picked back up his coffee. Of course, he wasn't sure what he was going to do with the boy once he brought back those Hulk plans. It was a lot of money but he wasn't sure he was willing to share it. He would figure that out when the time came. For now, he would keep himself busy with stealing small things like diamonds or gold.

Fort Raymond - the Next Day

Mimic and Constrictor sat in the waiting room staring at the Red Hulk who had settled himself down on the other side of the room, glaring right back. They were stuck waiting with him as Harrison talked to each of them about Crowne's decision to remove Toxin from Mulligan. He was rightly worried that it would make them all doubt whether Shield would follow through on the promises that had been made to them.

A few Shield agents had rigged a special large chair for Red Hulk, surprisingly considering his popularity or lack thereof. They hadn't even let him do anything outside of Fort Raymond yet. His yellow eyes blazed at the two low-level villains with an intensity that made them squirm in their uncomfortable wooden chairs. It was undeniable that he was an unsettling sight with glowing yellow eyes, scarlet skin and ebony fingernails and hair. He was a good eight to nine feet tall at least, and nearly just as wide with shoulders inhumanly broad and a great huge barrel chest. Intimidating didn't begin to sum him up.

"So he can't be the same guy," Mimic was saying, supposedly quiet enough that Red Hulk couldn't hear.

"Look, I am telling you, I went up against the guy one on one, he looks exactly the same except his skin color." Constrictor whispered.

"Are you sure? I met him too, years ago, but I seemed to remember him looking different than Red."

"Trust me," Constrictor's voice was growing irritated. "If there were more than one Hulk running around we would have heard about it."

"Then how did he change color?"

"Who the hell knows?"

"He doesn't talk like the Hulk either."

"Why do you even care?"

"Think about it, C, if Shield can go around creating Hulks. Do you realize what that would mean for people like us?"

"Did you just call me C?"

"Think about it, Frank."

"I try not to Cal, or I'd end up a nervous wreck like you."

"Seriously, are you sure he is the same Hulk?"

"If you really want to know, why don't you go ask him?"

"Uh . . . yeah," Mimic glanced at Red Hulk one more time, the massive man-beast returned his glance with a boring glare.

"Oh fer Christ's sake," Constrictor turned to the scarlet behemoth. "Are you the original Hulk or are the rumors right and they created you in a lab?"

"What's it to you?" the Red Hulk's voice was so deep and low that Mimic could feel it in his chest.

"We just want to know who we're working with," Frank Payne let a coil slowly lengthen itself onto the floor. Hulk saw it and snorted in derision.

"What if I don't care?" Red Hulk turned his face away from them.

"Are you saying you don't care that we want to know or that you don't care about who you really are?" Constrictor pressed.

"Either or both." Red Hulk muttered to himself.

"What was that?" Constrictor asked.

"I don't care about you," Red Hulk turned a massive finger toward Payne. "I don't care about where you are from or what you have done, I don't care if you are alive or dead, I don't care if you want to get to know me. You are nothing to me but an annoyance. Like someone else's annoying child I have to tolerate. If I were you I'd stop pestering me or I'll see just how many of your bones I can break with one squeeze." As if to illustrate his point the Red Hulk picked up a metal folding chair and crushed it in his fist.

"You're right, he doesn't talk like the Hulk," Constrictor tried to say dismissively but his throat constricted and his voice came out all choked and hoarse.

"I knew we should have left him alone," Mimic said. It made Constrictor's teeth set on edge. "I don't think he's the original Hulk though."

"Why don't you just shut up," Constrictor folded his arms. "You've caused enough trouble for me already today."

"That's a good idea," Hulk rumbled just loud enough for them to hear.

Crowne's Office, Fort Raymond

Agent Crowne always had a superior attitude but rarely was his face so smug. He had brought in all of the lost projects and to top it off he had made a Hulk for Shield. Surely, this would be enough to get him promoted to a more desirable position. There was no way Fury could ignore the progress he had made. Could he?

A window popped up on his computer display, he clicked the 'Answer' button. Just as he had expected, Fury's face filled the screen.

"Hello, director." Crowne still couldn't help but smile.

"You look pleased with yourself," Fury greeted him back.

"Well, it wasn't easy but I was able to recover the symbiote and the Ant-Man designs that were lost."

"They are both back in Shield custody?"

"Both of them."

"Is that what you are so pleased about?"

"Well that, and I was able to create a Hulk that is completely under the control of Shield."

"So, what makes you so damn happy? The fact that you FINALLY fixed your mess-ups and recovered the Shield property you lost or is it the fact that you have created a weapon of mass destruction without so much as our say so?"

Damn it! Only Nick Fury could turn so much positive into something negative. "I . . . I thought you would be glad that we are back on track."

"Is Fort Raymond fully repaired."

"No, sir."

"Then you're still not back on track."

It was then Crowne realized it. There was no way he could win. Fury had it out for him no matter what he did. He could have created a whole superhuman army and Fury would have complained.

"We are working full time on the repairs, sir."

"Anything else would be utter incompetence, Crowne."

"Yes, sir."

"Crowne, I am glad to have the projects back, but they should have never been lost in the first place."

"I understand, sir."

"I hope so."

"I do, sir."

"Let me know when the repairs are complete. I want you to focus on that before moving forward with any other assignments."

"I will stay focused on getting Fort Raymond back up and running."

"Good, talk to you Thursday."

"I hope sooner, sir."

"Me, too, Crowne. Me too."

Crowne's visual of Fury went black. Crowne stared at the screen for a solid thirty seconds, his fists clenching and unclenching repeatedly. Finally, he stood up from behind his desk, his face a perfect mask of control. The door slammed as he exited.

He had had enough! He had done everything that Fury had wanted from him. He had pushed the projects forward and when they were lost he had recovered them. He had taken initiative and provided Shield with a powerful new weapon, unparalleled by any other organization, no one else had a Hulk under their control. What thanks did he get? Scolding and arrogant assumptions from the one man who should understand his ambition.

He had put Shield in a position of power. Power was security. Security is what Shield promised to the world. He had ensured that Shield could deliver on their promises and what had happened. He had been verbally spat and told he was basically worthless! Well if Fury didn't want power Crowne certainly did.

Crowne didn't even think about where he was going as he stalked down the cement halls of Fort Raymond. Everyone that saw him and his emotionless blank stare dodged aside, doing all they could to avoid his notice. They must have succeeded as he didn't notice a single soul until he stood in front of the Infirmary doors.

He shook his head, waking himself from the reverie of his spiraling black thoughts. What had brought him here? A grin with absolutely no warmth spread across his pale face. He hadn't visited Black Ant yet today.

He pushed open the steel double-doors that lead into the infirmary. He knew Don Thomas had been removed from the trauma ward to the recovery ward, he had made a point of seeing the former Blue Streak on a daily basis. After all, he had to make sure they were making his next tool according to his specifications.

"Oh, sir!" the red-headed receptionist got up in surprise. "I didn't know you were coming or I would have made sure he was ready for you!"

"It's alright, Kate," Crowne waved her off. That was her name wasn't it? Oh well, as long as she got the job done. "I'm just here for a quick hello."

"He is in recovery room 2A," Kate? told him. "If you would like I can call security to escort you there."

"I know where it is."

"Very well, sir," Kate retreated back to her desk and tried to hide her cell phone out of his view. They, of course, weren't allowed in the infirmary, much less to be used by staff. Personal communication devices were to be left in your dormitory while on duty. Unless of course you were the director of the Fort. Crowne's cell phone was in his pocket. Given his mood, he would have loved to tear her a new one and come up with severe and embarrassing punishment for ignoring his rules, but he had a far more enjoyable victim in mind right now. He settled for giving her a stern glare until she blushed and fumbled the damn cell phone into a drawer of her desk. Better. There were three hallways behind her. One led right, the others straight and left. He took the left passage. With all of the injuries those under him had suffered in the past few weeks he had become well acquainted with all areas of the infirmary.

It wasn't long before he was opening the door to room 2A. "Hello, Black Ant, I hope you are adjusting better to your new situation."

"Get out."

Now, now, is that any way to greet your new boss?" Crowne smiled widely.

God, it felt so good to put the new help in its place. Crowne felt the anger slowly melt out of him replaced by sadistic pleasure. Don Thomas had been little more than an irritation in his life before Black Ant but Crowne only cared about one thing. Blue Streak had been a part of the biggest smudge on his career. Blue Streak and his fellow super-powered gang members had made a fool of him. That was one thing that Crowne could not forgive.

"I knew Shield was crooked by I can't believe that anyone in charge condones this," Black Ant said, his voice surprisingly flat.

"It doesn't matter what anyone condones, except for me, I am the director of this facility and I have been given full autonomy to use whatever means necessary to accomplish Shield's objectives."

"Oh? And just what objective is that?"

"Don't you get it?" Crowne approached Black Ant's bed, he was still strapped down for the staff's protection. "You are a cyborg now. Programmed by my scientists to do whatever I say. I am the only one you need to worry about. See, I can and will make you do whatever it is that I wish. If that means that I need you to walk in front of a stream of gunfire so you can block the bullets for my agents then so be it. Maybe I will need you to self-destruct during a critical mission. Maybe I won't need you at all and I will just stuff you into a closet until everyone has forgotten you are there. "

Black Ant glared up at him with his one intensely blue eye, the other was cybernetic and glowed red. "You forget that I started out as a Shield agent. There's no way Fury doesn't have some failsafe."

"Fury doesn't even know you exist."

Realization dawned on Don's face and for the first time since his cybernetic surgery he felt fear. He was in the hands of a power-hungry man who had no ethics. Fear clutched at his throat, preventing him from retorting. Crowne looked down with a cold smile, adjusting his hair using the reflection from Thomas' metal armor. What was he going to do? Crowne had the infinite resources of Shield at his disposal. He couldn't escape. He would make Crowne pay, that's what he would do. He would wait until the opportune moment and he would kill the upper-level Shield agent. Crowne may be able to take his agency but Don would figure out a way to take Crowne's life if it were truly his last act.

"Come now, Black Ant, I hear that they were able to give you some sensors on your armor that will allow you to feel touch. Or pain. Let's test them, shall we?"

Black Ant struggled against his bonds, cursing, Crowne was right. They had implanted bio-synthetic nerves in his armor.

"Stop, you sadistic bastar . . . Aaaaaah!" Black Ant's screams echoed loudly down the tiled hallway. Doctors came running but paused short at the entrance once they saw who at the panel controlling Thomas' sensations.

"We'll test one cluster of nerves at a time!" Crowne shouted over Thomas' screams. "I am nothing if not thorough."

END

Next: Capekillers: Separation Anxiety Part 2: The Procedure A bitter Crowne has ordered Mulligan separated from his symbiote, possibly at the cost of his own life. Will anyone stop this madness or has Crowne finally crossed the line into madness?