Daredevil = Devil
Moon Knight = Reaper
Wolverine = Wraith
Spider-Man = Ghost
Chapter 8 – Black-ops
A lone cargo plane soars through the sky over the Atlantic Ocean. The clouds were dense and glowed white from the light of the half-moon as well as the stars scattered across the sky. Deep within the cargo hold of the plane hide four men, all of them were draped in black. To Manhattanites, these four individuals have well-known names. Spider-Man, Moon Knight, Wolverine and Daredevil sat close together in a circle. Each of them wore black but sported different styles and weapons as well as code names.
The man known as Matt Murdock, Daredevil had donned a black leather suit, which covered his entire body including his face as opposed to the original red mask which revealed the lower part of his head. Two black horns pointed from his forehead, a single blade was strapped individually to each of his forearms and a pair of black bully clubs tied to his right thigh. There was no trademark "DD" on his chest like usual instead that part of his body was just a blank black space.
Marc Spector wore a black mask with a noir colored hoody to cover his head and top portion of his body. The combat boots on his feet were tied tight and made his look a bit larger. Twin pistols rested in holsters on each side of his rib cage. Pouches took up space along his waist and held extra ammunition so that he could change cartridges at a moment's notice. His black cargo pants carried two truncheons, one on each thigh and were strapped to them like guns as well. Overall it seemed like a very "Punisher" Kind of look but then again the punisher was nothing if not tactical.
James "Logan" Howlett, the Wolverine had all of his limbs covered in elbow and knee pads. Cargo pants and boots were the same as Marc's but he wore a ski mask instead. A rifle hung from a harness on his waist for easy accessibility. He cracked his adamantium coated knuckles with grip gloves on. His claws remained his best primary weapon though if three cut marks appeared all over the boat S.H.I.E.L.D. could catch sight of it and become aware of their activities overseas so it was best he kept them out of sight.
Lastly, Peter Parker was the simplest of the four. His Iron Spider suit was now like a black unitard, simple, flexible and light. He hung from a cluster of webs making him the furthest away in the circle. Weapons were never things he had used so why bother attempting something new right now. Stealth was the best weapon he could use and make the most of it with his natural spider powers.
"Once we go in I don't want a high body count if we can help it" said Logan as he leered at Marc.
"Then why are you here again?" Replied Marc as he inspected his two pistols. He stripped his guns down to the barrel and reassembled them just to the way they were before.
Matt gave a loud burst of laughter. The irony of the retort was too much to resist. Logan was if anything a killer at heart, leaving bodies wherever he went so why would it change now? His rage and fury were the driving force which could scare anyone and yet Marc said it so casually. Marc was no stranger to spilling blood himself in the past though he wasn't invulnerable.
"Because I'm the best at what I do and at this moment, running the Secret Avengers is what I do best. Now let's get to the mission."
After the Civil War, Jessica, like many other superheroes could no longer stand living in the United States and moved to England for a new start. During her time abroad she began to realize there was a spread of the same mutant growth hormone which had torn through Manhattan. Being the detective that she was, it was only natural that she would down leads without an oppressive government hanging over her head.
From the busy area MGH had appeared to show other side effects besides accidental self-detonations. Mutations were said to talk place in the bodies of those who ingested too much too fast. She had passed notes back to Cage about her findings and such to make sure she remain on task if anything should happen to her. A list of users and sellers Showed that Liverpool, the second largest port in the North West region of England may have been receiving "materials" by boat. Against Cage's wishes Jessica chose to investigate the freight ship called the amphibious on her own and was not heard from again, more than 24 hours ago.
The boat remained docked for two days before leaving for an unknown location and was already on its way out of the port. With luck Jessica was still on the boat and there would be something to expand their view of the MGH operation. The mission was simple, to drop down and investigate the freighter in a timely manner, don't be seen and not to leave any evidence the team had been there at all. Nothing could lead back to them in any way so S.H.I.E.L.D. would assume that they all were still in Manhattan.
The steel avian was not far from the destination point, so the team had enough time to go over their chosen code names. Matt chose the name Devil for obvious reasons, Marc felt that Reaper was most appropriate, Logan was the Wraith and Peter chose Ghost. The one known as Wolverine called Peter a copycat in a joking manner, seeing as how Wraith and ghost essentially meant the same thing. If anything, Wraith sounded much fiercer so it was perfect for Logan so there was no comparison.
"Team secret we are approaching the target destination, prepare for drop" said a voice on the PA system.
As the plane flew above the large Freighter everyone except Ghost walked over to a steel container and took a Parachute upon their backs and strapped it on. The hanger door slowly opened, letting air escape into the vacuum of the higher altitude. The Noir Ghost could feel the force of the air pulling at his body but he did not budge thanks to his wall-crawling ability. It quickly became so hard to breath that gasps of air became necessary.
Before Reaper could pass him the final parachute, Ghost leaped out of the plane and made a beeline toward the large freighter ship in the middle of the ocean. The boat was littered with containers of numerous colors and all showed signs of rust. While still twenty feet above the ship's deck, he repositioned his body right side up and spun a large web in the form of a parachute. The air currents fought against him causing his chute to rise higher into the air. He was just over the tail of the ship now and before he could rise any higher the dark Ghost released the webbing as the wind carried it away and he fell.
His feet slammed into steel, landing in the center of six mercenaries carrying rifles and armed in combat gear. All of them had jerked their bodies in shock of his appearance but this was all it took. In an instant, four Waldoes sprang out of Peter's back and launched their own web-lines, ensnaring a henchman. With great strength he proceeded to launch all six men into the ocean. There was a very good chance those men could swim, they can take care of themselves he thought.
Peter's mind buzzed like a hornets nest, telling him that something was coming toward him fast. Another man came running from around a nearby corner with his gun at the ready.
"What the hell is going on?!" he shouted but it was already too late for him
Ghost hid at the corner to meet him and gave a punch from his right hand to the Merc's chest, sending him flying over the edge of the ship and into the open ocean.
The surrounding space was a bit wide open and spider-sense sent signals that another henchman wouldn't be too far away. Instinctively he ran for the nearest wall and hugged it close. The shadow of the unsuspecting degenerate cast itself long past the corner of the wall. The black suit melded his body into the shadows so perfectly that the name Ghost suited him well. An unassuming man walked out into the open area where the previous man was knocked over the railing.
Slowly Ghost inched his way toward his prey silently from behind and proceeded to wrap his biceps and forearms around the henchman's throat. The arms flexed and tightened like snake coils, making it harder for him to inhale. The henchman's arms attempted to reach out and claw at Ghost's face but failed as he slowly slipped into unconsciousness.
By this time, other members of his team Wraith, Devil and Reaper were now descending to the deck of the ship. Their black parachutes began to crinkle up and fell to the floor as they unhooked them from their backs.
Reaper had begun to stroll past Ghost without looking direct at him and muttering under his breath "show off."
Wraith quickly signaled for the group to huddle together under the cover of shadows. He turned his head toward devil
"Devil, what do we have?"
"I don't know. It's hard to focus."
"Remember your training, block out everything that doesn't matter including my voice"
The dark colored Devil had pressed the palm of his left hand to the left temple of his head, struggling to focus his power. His radar senses had picked up on every sound around the ship from the churning waves of the ocean to whining of the cold metal scraping together. Like a painted picture, the details soon became clear that's to the sound waves coating every object in contour lines. He could "see" a sort of wireframe outline of the enemies.
"I see ten more toward the front of the ship and two in the captain's quarters. I need to get inside of the ship for a more clear view of how many more we have to deal with."
"Alright Reaper and Ghost, you two take out the ten guys up front. Devil is with me. We're going to see the captain, meet up when you can. Remember, these guys look like ordinary Mercs but they may be using MGH, be careful."
The team of four, split into two two-man cells. Reaper drew his dual Pistols from their holsters and applied the silencers to the barrels as they lurked on the deck of the ship. They approached a corner, hiding behind a wall and waited. Reaper signed for Ghost to be ready for a preemptive strike. A crowd of ten men, their faces covered in ski masks, wandering around the deck with no uniform order made them easy targets.
Ghost dashed from the corner into the heart of the crowd before anyone had realized what was happening. He unleashed punches and kicks, everyone was taken by surprise. As the mercs began to draw their rifles bullets had invaded their bodies, causing them to fall to the floor by sheer force. Red mist dispersed into the air from the gapping wholes from torn flesh. The Jet colored figure continued his assault on the mercenaries while a shooter was picking them apart.
Only one man stood alone as the rest laid on the floor either unconscious or bleeding and in pain. The shots fired from Reapers guns bounced off of the merc's chest. Now with his back hunched, the merc threw his gun to the floor made a dash for Reaper, hoping to hit his assailant. Ghost had intercepted, striking the masked man with a right hook but something felt different about this man. His skin felt rough, even while under the ski mask as if he were fighting Tombstone, an enemy from his past. Unaffected, he grabbed onto Peter by his face and began to squeeze his head between both of his hands. Peter could hear the ping sounds of Reapers bullets bouncing off of the masked man's head.
"Ahhhh" yelled the man without any sign of letting go.
Reaper had made a beeline for Peter, tossing his guns to the floor and pulled out a strip of wire from a pouch on his waist. Wrapping the wire around the merc's neck, Reaper pulled on the wire as hard has he possibly could but it was useless, his skin was too thick to be cut, much less to choke. Time was running out and Peter needed some sort of leverage to break free before he dies of a massive headache or blacks out. He tossed the wire and grabbed a time bomb and stuck it to the masked man's back.
"Hang on kid!" shouted Reaper as he leaped for cover.
The explosion burst upon the man's back, causing him to jerk slightly, which Peter took full advantage of. With all of his might, Ghost launched the mercenary into the air with a mule kick and proceeded with two web-lines attaching themselves to the attacker's chest and swung him around hard. The dense-skinned mercenary was felt heavier than he looked but after whirling around three times, his weight was his own enemy. Ghost released the webs and allowed the Mercenary to fly over the railing and into the ocean like his other colleagues and out of view.
"You took your time" said Peter as he proceeded to an open doorway the inside of the ship.
"No powers, remember?" Replied Marc as he picked up his discarded handguns from the floor. "How is the migraine?"
"Still hurts"
As the two treaded down the halls the Captain's command deck, more mercenaries were sprawled out along the floor with cuts, bruises and bullet holes. Bullet dented the walls of the narrow halls to the stairs which lead to the command deck and the shells were scattered across the floor. There was something about seeing blood which made Peter's skin crawl and his mind a bit unnerved.
They arrived to find the Captain on the floor and colleagues of his knocked out on the floor. Screaming in pain, the captain was covered in shallow cuts as Devil and wraith stood over him. He looked as if he had been dragged along a floor covered in broken glass and did not show signs of serious bleeding. Each blade attached to Devil's forearms had a thin coating of blood.
"Looks like the fun started without us" said Reaper as he holstered his weapons.
"Please stop" howled the captain, using his hat as a miniature shield to fend off his assailants. He backed himself into a corner with nowhere to go and proceeded to curl up into a defensive fettle position.
"Not until I hear the truth from your lips" retorted Devil. "You better work those gums fast before my friend starts pouring lemon juice."
Wraith smirked as he pulled a small bottle of yellow liquid, dangling it over the Captain's head. When the Captain didn't say a word, the liquid rained down upon him, entering the cuts. Just then Peter had a thought, where did they get the lemon juice from?
"OK, OK, STOP IT PLEASE!" "I was just hired to be the ship's Captain a few months ago. The man who really owns it spends his time in the lower levels of the ship. There are rumors that he is some kind of scientist contracting work for somebody. There is a door that is always locked, I can take you to it."
This team, the Secret Avengers operated very differently than any other team Peter had seen before. Under Logan, it wasn't surprising that the team would do things differently, the Civil War had truly changed. The world couldn't have changed so much, instead a line was drawn and everyone was left with a great decision to make, evolve of die. Either you could adapt to a new way of life or opt out to be a pawn of the U.S. Government.
"What do you think?" asked Wraith as he faced Devil
"Like music to my ears" Replied Devil. "He's telling the truth"
"Good but before we go, our Captain should probably get those cuts cleaned. Luckily I have rubbing alcohol right here."
"No, no, agghhhh"
"Man up and start moving, now." Said Wraith as he held his weapon
Just then, a voice had boomed from a loudspeaker
"There is no need for the hired help, gentlemen. Please, join me in my quarters below deck. I'll even light a path for you."
The whole team all looked to each other and then to the surrounding area for enemies but none came. An elaborate trap was all too familiar for a superhero, being called to show up at the beck and call of a villain who had something of interest to him or her. These situations always went the same way, knowing it was a trap the hero would go anyway because it was the right thing to do or because they had no choice and the same was true here.
The team was guided through pathways needed to reach their destination by the man on the intercom and a series of lights on the ceiling, lit to indicate the right directions. Any unnecessary turns had their lights out, coating the path in dense darkness. The further they walked into the belly of the ship, a curiosity struck more heavily. What else was on this ship, hiding behind the walls?
Devil used his super-senses to detect any incoming movement down the halls but there was nothing except the bad guys who were taken down already. Devil could not even detect anything through the walls, which led him to believe that the walls were soundproof. I lot of money must went into the ship to make it a well-guarded in the event that the guards were ineffective.
Spider-Sense did not make a sound, reinforcing the idea that all was well. Reaper attempted to open a door by turning by turning its handle but it did not budge. Wraith was barred from using his claws to cut anything or risk giving away that Wolverine had been overseas for S.H.I.E.L.D. to pick up on, so the clear choice was Ghost for his super strength. Reaper had appointed Peter to step forward to the door.
"I wouldn't do that if I were you. Save your minds the trouble and just proceed and all will become clear."
The black Ghost kicked the door and denting it in, the team found themselves in an odd place. A horrifying smell erupted from the open doorway, unyielding in its travel path, the smell contaminated the fresh air.
The whole team each covered their own mouths to block out a foul aroma. Reaper kept his pistols at arm's length, looking at Wraith who hand the same assumptions about the smell in question. Something had died in this room and with the door sealed the smell had no place to go. Inside was a mountain of decomposing flesh, piled on top of itself like rotten pudding but there was something else happening in this room. The mount had shifted and shifted once more, as if it wasn't aware that it wasn't alone anymore.
"We need to close this door now." Whispered Peter to the rest on the team.
"I second that" said Reaper with his gun still fixed on the blog of dead fat. "But considering we broke the door getting in, there is no way it will close now."
"Were gonna try anyway, Ghost get the door" said Wraith.
Ghost slowly gripped the door hand as Reaper reached for an incendiary grenade in his pocket. In one moment the door was slammed, Reaper chucked the grenade into the room. Ghost held the door closed with all his strength as the creature behind it screeched in pain.
The sounds behind the door slowly died out. No buzzing filled Peter's head, at which point he assumed it was safe to let go.
"Is it dead?" asked Devil, still ready to fight.
"You're more than welcome to see for yourself, Devil but I'm moving forward. We wasted enough time here" Marc walked on ahead.
"I apologize for that ghastly scene, gentlemen but I did advise you to keep walking" boomed the voice on the loud speaker."
A slight sense of anxiety had struck just then. What if Jessica Drew had fallen to the same fate as the molten monstrosity behind the door? No, she had to be alive. This age old game of cat and mouse with a villain felt so familiar, the pattern was striking upon the mind Wraith began to exhibit anger as his hand shook, slowly forcing his adamantium claws to protrude from his skin.
"Let's go"
Once the Avengers approached the desired door, they entered and realized the space took up a great portion of the ships interior. At first glance, the room appeared to be a warehouse with the ceiling at least twenty feet up. Part of it was a zoo, with various animals like lions, bears and rattle snakes roaming around in artificial habitats. The creatures sprang to life at the sight of potential pray walking by with glass as the only obstacle.
Past the animals lurked another area of the ship with metal tables lined up in rows. Each table was littered with mechanical gadgets which were lift sprawled out without a sense of order besides little labels marked side projects. Peter Parker had recognized some of the contraptions but not all thanks to his past familiarity with technology from the Fantastic Four and so on. One device in particular had caught his eye, a container of silver liquid, gracefully flowing up and down like s special lava lamp. Next to the container was a syringe held in a small steel case. Both syringe and metal liquid container had been coated in a thin layer of dust, meaning they had not been moved in some time.
"Come now, it would be rude to keep me waiting much longer. Walk with a purpose, gentleman."
As everyone proceeded further, they were greeted by a scrawny man in a white lab coat which reached down to the ankles and large black goggles resting on his forehead. He was bald with no facial hair. He sat upon a silver stool next to a table with a microscope. Equations were scattered along at least three yards of blackboard, small notations were made in between the symbols for things to keep in mind about the concoction.
"Greetings, I am Professor Fillmore"
Wraith stood in front the group and stopped wait Ghost, Reaper and Devil stopped in place.
"It's my assumption that you are looking for something… female perhaps?"
The scientist pointed to the body of a woman on a slab. The body of Jessica Drew laid still and without motion under a white sheet. Her face was exposed but the rest of her body was hidden beneath a sheet. Wraith signaled for Devil to tell me Jessica's status by using his radar sense to tune into the sound of her pulse.
The beat of her slumbering heart was slow but not altogether nonexistent, pulsating through the air like a sort of sonar to Matt Murdock's mind. He could see the outline of her form and something was missing. The sound of the fabric against her skin had created tiny ripples of sound but there was a part of her body he couldn't see at all.
"She is alive but something is off. She's missing her right arm"
Just then, beneath Ski mask, Wraith's eye flared with anger, his claws filly extracted. Rage had seized his mind to the point that stealth had meant nothing to him. He wanted to sever the man's head from his body. Peter put his hand on Logan's should, holding him back from a careless misstep.
Although the team may be a strong combination together, the doctor still had the home field advantage. This much was obvious, the man held the title of doctor and the blob monster was a failed experiment, what happened to the successful ones?
The doctor wore a smirk upon his sinister face. With no shame, he strode over to Jessica's body and bruised his hand against her pale skin.
"Again, my apologies. When I engage in an experiment I tend to go overboard but this was well worth it. Her DNA makes such superb MGH."
"Quit rambling" Said Reaper "What do you want?"
"Ahh, a question that forebodes great trouble for your kind, the super beings." Said the doctor "you are familiar with MGH, correct? Of course you are, a drug, when processed correctly grants temporary strength to normal people but they can't keep the power and it causes permanent damage to the body, destroying the organs. I'm not sure how but your friend discovered me here. Here where I have produced my life's work, N.S."
The doctor pointed at the long white board decorating in equation symbols in black ink. Every inch of the wall was used to fit some tiny piece of information. The letters N.S. were written on top of all the symbols and separated by sections to keep the information orderly.
"N.S. stands for natural selection. It amplifies the DNA of the human body to adapt to conditions of their present environment. Naturally, the subject's muscles become enhanced but if the subject's body is tested by certain conditions to an extent, they can develop an aptitude to deal with those conditions."
The connection became clear as day now. The hooded man's army was being made thanks to the developments being made on this ship. It explained why the people under the club in Harlem had obtained their powers. The bad guys were already in the middle of testing the drugs, using citizens as test subjects.
"Does anybody feel like the world just got a bit crowded?" shot Matt in a sarcastic tone.
"As you should. Finally, the extraordinary will become will become commonplace for Homo sapiens. No longer will mutants and aliens lord over us once we share an equal ground."
"Mutants?" sneered Logan
"That's correct. Judging from your tone, you are one of them."
"You don't know anything-"
Fillmore had put up his hand up, a sign for Wraith to stop talking and embarrassing himself further. The doctor did after all have the floor. From the science point of view, anger and outrage were down right meaningless and could contribute nothing to this intellectual discussion in any way. He then proceeded to speak his mind.
"Please, spare me" Said the Doctor in a tired tone. "I am fully aware of your people's constant struggle to blind in with society. However, you all claim the title of Homo superior when you produce no evidence as to how your diverse abilities are even tied to human evolution in the first place."
"Hell if I know bub, but every mutant has their own ability, something that makes them special"
"Such a rhetorical excuse for a lack of knowledge" the scientist as he lazily sat back in his chair. "If I asked Charles Xavier to explain these "mutations," he would simply state that the X-gene triggers the power. But without actual research to prove such findings, he can't explain where this gene came from, not even a sound theory. For all we know it could be some space virus manifesting itself in our children and even then, why are the powers so varied? Is it personality based? Or another brand of Inhuman?"
Wraith had nothing to say in the matter. He was never much of a scientist, always more of the soldier rather than the extensive thinker. He only grew more impatient at the Doctor's remarks toward him and mutant kind.
Peter had begun to see what the doctor was getting at. In the ways of natural selection (not the drug) People were theorized to form different races through separation into diverse climates but form some sort of pattern. Two people of the same race could exhibit similar facial features and yet were not the same. At the same time Mutant abilities were radically different from person to person. A powerful theory which rose the question if mutants were something else altogether. Still, Peter attempted to think of mutants as ordinary people, having lived among them for so long that it seemed wrong to call them alien after all of their struggles.
into fear that the doctor would continue to ramble on until the dawn finally came to the sky. He placed his hand on Logan's shoulder to ease the man's nerves and looked Fillmore square in the eye.
"That's enough, you proved your point. What's the connection between MGH and NS?"
"Simple, MGH speeds up NS's process considerably, however, without the proper eating habits and other factors the combination cause the subject to explode. I've been working it for so long that the survival rate is now 78 percent. "
The blanks were beginning to fill in. Fillmore must have taken Jessica's arm to produce a more powerful MGH sample. The exploding people in Manhattan were testing the new product. The heroes had caught on too late as the hooded man was well off with a new arm and no idea of when he might strike. Peter could sense that that this conversation would soon draw to a close. Jessica was alive so all that was needed was to grab her and leave but what about the hooded man? No, the smart thing to do was to leave as soon as possible. With the group's luck an ambush was waiting for them somewhere on the ship.
Peter listened for his spider-sense to sound off but nothing came and Devil made no sign enemies.
"It's time to go. We should get Jessica and go now"
Devil stepped forward to collect Jessica as she laid on the table. The Doctor proceeded to step away from her body from the slab and putting distance between himself and the group.
"But don't you want to know about the Shadow Man?
Just then, Peter's skull rattled like a jackhammer with intensity. Something was coming at them from somewhere in the room.
A crimson orb shot out of his back and into his hand.
"GET DOWN! Its an ambush."
He threw the orb like a fastball, straight in the direction of Jessica's unconscious body. Black ooze burst from the confinement of the red ball and spread itself wide over Jessica's body, embracing it until it became a black pupa as an explosion engulfed her body and forced everyone back from the area.
Dusk and smoke wafted in the air, making it hard to see. The eardrums of the team members rang like an incessant dog whistle. While on his back, Peter couldn't see anyone within his field of vision. Time seemed too slow in this moment, steadily creeping back into its normal pace. There was a slight feeling of being defenseless. Peter Parker rolled from off of his back and onto his chest. The gold Waldoes arched from his back, pushing against the ground to help him stand up.
Through the fog, Peter could see a semblance of a slime female form. Tendrils whipped back and forth until each came weaving together like strings of thread. This female figure appeared to have locked onto his position, maintaining complete eye contact as she slouched and coated in melting black slim and the left arm missing. She spoke with dual voices sounding off at the same time, one sweet and the other morbid and deadly.
"And we were beginning to think you didn't love us anymore"