BLACK WINGS Chapter 13- Identity by Justin Anderson October 19, 2002. 10:31 AM, Upstate New York Screl admired his surgical work. He was glad he'd taken the time to steal the cybernetic android he'd heard about, and taken the time to practice on the joining of human nerves with microscopic wiring. It had paid off, giving his creation a new right lung. He doubted a human lung would make a suitable replacement, even if he'd had one to use. He checked the plate on the clone's back, making sure the piece had been secured along the edge of the skin. "How is your lung holding up?" he asked. "I have no problems breathing," the clone replied. "Good. Now, you shouldn't even notice the adamantium plate in your back, it's designed to contract as you move. So, if everything's in order, I have a mission for you. Omnitech Laboratories, the facility outside Boston, they have some... information I require. They have fairly light security, I imagine you can deal with anything. I will accompany you, there are certain things I plan on taking for myself. I will need you to take one of their computers. The entire tower, no less. The data on it should prove useful to me. I plan on being in and out of there quickly," he explained. Screl grabbed a holster belt from a surgical cart and handed it over. "This is your Desert Eagle, two spare clips. It's all I have. It should suffice." 11:03 AM, Washington, D.C. "Jack, you ready?" General Peterson asked. He replied, "Almost. You, Sandra?" "Yeah." General Peterson handed them the security photograph. "That's him. He was seen boarding a plane with Jonathan Screl, headed towards Boston. You leave right away, find them and take them both down." 2:44 PM, Omnitech Labs, outskirts of Boston. Both men exited the cab, walking the rest of the way. "Now, I have an appointment, they're expecting me. You'll disable security and enter through the back way. You'll gather what you're after, I will gather the equipment I came for," Screl said. "Understood." Screl continued on to the front door, the clone ducking out of the way. Jack watched them both. "Okay, so, what now?" Sandra asked. "I don't know. I say we follow the clone. We can't just waltz in, so maybe if we can take him out, this Screl guy might panic, we can get him," Jack replied. The back entrance wasn't heavily guarded. Mainly a truck loading zone, one guard present. Just a few cameras watching. The lone guard was taken down by a quick rabbit punch. He drew the pistol, taking out a few nearby security cameras. He headed to the nearest door, smashing the lock with the gun's handle. Jack and Sandra followed as he entered the building. The clone made his way through the corridors, disabling security guards and personnel with quick punches. Not lethal, but enough to knock someone out. He found a computer terminal quickly. He began removing cords and wires. "Hold it!" He turned. Jack Arden had a shotgun trained on him. "Nice, but you ain't me. Not by a long shot," Jack said. The clone stood. "You really need that gun to stop me?" it asked. Jack hesitated, finally setting it down. Sandra kept a careful watch on him. Screl watched security scrambling. It was his cue. "Sorry about all this, Jonathan. It seems like we've had a break in. I hope nothing-" Screl slammed his briefcase into the back of the man's skull, sending him to the floor. "Now, where are those containers?" Jack swung a right hook, the clone dodging. He returned a barrage of punches, each connecting. Grabbing Jack's arm, he flipped his opponent across the room. Grabbing the computer tower, he pushed past Sandra. "You are of no consequence. Collect your partner and leave," it said. She fired a round of sonic bursts, the clone moving too fast for them to connect. The clone ran down the hall, Jack scrambling after him. They followed him through a door leading to the basement facility. It was more of a manufacturing facility, heavy machinery as opposed to laboratory equipment. Recycling facilities, mainly. They recycled their own paper, judging by the containers filled with wads of old notes and reports. Jack spotted his target, a running tackle taking him down. The tower dropped to the floor, the gun flying from the clone's hand, skidding across a conveyor belt. The two fought, exchanging punches and kicks. The clone, remembering the plate in his back, slammed it into Jack's face, taking his chance to retrieve his gun. The belt was off, but the pistol had slid into a cutting device. He reached for it, oblivious to the fact that Jack had gotten to his feet. Jack located the button for the line, pressing it. The clone grabbed the Desert Eagle only a second before a blade dropped. It took him a second to realize what had happened. He couldn't feel the steel of the handle anymore, nor his arm. He screamed in pain. The blade had sliced the left arm off at the shoulder, a clean cut straight through. He was bleeding profusely. With what strength remained, he swung a quick left hook. But it was no good, as he was dying, and Jack Arden was not. Jack rose his shotgun, ready to fire. Gunfire interrupted him. It was Screl. Sandra aimed several sonic bursts at Screl, but he dodged. They ran to the upper balcony. Screl ran as well, reaching the clone. "Dammit! Well, better cut my losses and run," he said, grabbing the clone, hauling it away. 5:00 PM, Washington, D.C. "So, Screl escaped. With the clone. Or, what was left of it. He didn't get the arm, thankfully. Hopefully it will die," General Peterson said. "Yes, sir," Jack replied. "Jack, it looks like you were partly successful. The clone is dead. But Screl stole a few experimental surgical supplies. We'll get them back. And there were no casualties, thankfully." General Peterson dismissed him. Something bothered him. Jack Arden wasn't as effective as he used to be. He couldn't fault Jack for it, but he wondered if calling him out of retirement was such a good idea. He needed to find the Black Wings. 5:21 PM, upstate New York Screl worked to seal the massive wound. The clone had lost a lot of blood, but if he worked on this, the clone would easily survive. It's healing factor was quite helpful. 8:47 PM Screl wondered what to do now. the clone was sewn up, on drugs, and would heal. But it was missing an arm. He examined the cyborg. Lights went off in his brain as he pondered a new surgical experiment. He had been successful with nerve to machine interface. The clone was breathing, after all. He took a measurement of the left arm of the cyborg, as well as carefully examining each piece. He immediately set to work in removing it, carefully. He'd need to remove enough not only to replace the missing limb, but enough to securely mount it in place and attach everything it would need to work. Thankfully, it weighed almost no more than a human arm would. It was made of adamantium and titanium, another advantage. October 20th, 2002. 4:18 PM Screl had completed the surgery. If he was lucky, then not only would the clone wake soon, but he would have full use of the new arm as if it were his old one. Though it was quite obvious, he didn't clone Jack Arden so the clone could have a social life, he needed a weapon, and as a weapon, it would do. He decided to examine the new microsurgery laser he had obtained. Opening the steel case, he looked a bit puzzled as he looked it over. 'Wait a minute... this is no surgical laser. I knew it, Omnitech is no medical research facility!' The booklet described the cannon as a neuro-interface tri-purpose laser weapon, which operated in three separate firing modes; a coherent photon beam which, upon impact, would superheat the target; A basic ion cannon, which functioned mainly to temporarily disable electronic systems; and a stun feature, which fired a solid bolt of non-lethal electricity. The unit operated on a small nuclear battery, and was designed to fold into a compact cube for storage. Screl reached in the case, lifting a small panel. 'Well, looks like neuron-interface was right' Inside the small compartment rested a packaged case, labeled "ocular implants". He reached for another case he had stolen. He couldn't identify the device it contained, but figured the documentation would tell him. It was a micro-scale nuclear power generator meant to install with the cannon. It was designed to utilize the body's own metabolism to recharge the nuclear battery the cannon functioned with. Screl was pleased with his acquisitions. The cannon would make a nice addition to his slave, and the generator was even better. The artificial lung and cybernetic arm ran on their own nuclear battery supplies, and while sufficiently charged, it may be helpful to keep them that way. Not to mention, he had proof that Omnitech was a front organization. He'd had his suspicions ever since he stole the cyborg meant for their main facilities, and now he knew what was really going on. It may be worthwhile to keep an eye on their future developments. October 22nd, 2002. 5:33 PM The operations were, so far, successful. He wouldn't know until the clone awoke, but life signs were good, and there had been no signs of the body rejecting any of the implants. His main concern was the batteries stored in the machinery, but he detected no radiation. The shielding around them seemed solid. The cannon was a miracle, compacting small enough to fit within the panel on his back. Whoever designed it knew what they were doing. Now, he had one more project he wanted to finish. The fingers on the cybernetic arm were close to the design of human fingers. But this was a soldier, it needed more. October 24th, 2002. 7:14 AM The clone woke on the operating table. It was strapped down, wrestling with the restraints. "Careful, now! I had to strap you down so you wouldn't hurt yourself," Screl explained. "I had to do some major surgery on you, you may need a few things explained. I'll unstrap you now. Be very careful, your left fingers are razor sharp." He looked at his side. His left arm was gone, replaced by metal. He remembered his arm being cut off. The straps removed, he sat up. "Now then, I did the best I could for you, and gave you a few enhancements. I assume you would like revenge on Jack Arden for what he did to you? Your new arm is mainly adamantium, and lightweight. You shouldn't have any problems with it, aside from the fingertips. I also added something to the panel on your back." The clone felt it, something new in the small metal panel on his back. A series of nerve endings firing in his body and muscle twitches, almost a mental command, caused the ocular implants to move into position. "What's this?" it asked. "I'm not sure, I had no time to test it. what do you see?" Screl asked. "A tactical display. Readouts of various types, options for infrared or night vision..." The panel on his right shoulder blade opened, the cannon swinging out and expanding. Fully motorized, the stalk moved the laser as he turned his head. "Full targeting system, three modes. I seem to have mental command over all the settings," it said. Screl asked, "Care to test it?" He found a suitable target. A quick, solid burst from the barrel took out a paper cup, leaving nothing. "Very nice," Screl commented. "Here, use this calculator, test the ion function." He set the calculator down, turning it on. A blue beam fired, hitting it. No damage, but the power was shut off. He turned to a table leg, testing the third function. A bolt of electricity connected, holding until he shut it off. "Looks like I was successful. Now, make sure your arm functions as it should. If it does, you should notice little difference from your old arm in terms of movement," Screl said. The clone grabbed a leather table strap in his right hand. A quick swing sent the fingertips through the material, slicing evenly. "Excellent. I need to gather a few supplies. If you wish, you may access my computer database and read up on the world. You should rest before I send you out again." October 27th, 2002. 8:23 PM Screl opened the door to his private laboratory, unprepared to be grabbed by the throat and slammed into a table. "You made three mistakes, Screl! One, you shouldn't have given me all his memories. TWO, you shouldn't have let me access your terminal. I read a few things I wasn't supposed to! And THREE! You made me!" Screl was thrown around, battered like a rag doll. He drew his gun, but it was taken from him. He was helpless. "I know who you are, and what you're doing. I'm shutting you down. And then, I'm going after Carnage!" the clone shouted. Screl found himself on the floor, looking up. The clone was walking away. "Come back... here! Please, you don't understand! You may be a clone, but-" He shouted, "My name is Jake!" Jake deployed his cannon, aiming for a large tank of fluid. "NO! It's flammable, you'll kill us both!" Screl shouted. He fired, the beam igniting the liquid, setting off a chain reaction. He ran, leaving Screl behind. 9:11 PM, Manhattan Cletus searched the warehouse. He knew the entrance was here, but he could not find it. Carnage watched the surveillance camera, laughing. His heroic other half was struggling, and he enjoyed it. He was joined by the others. "Carnage! Ignore him for a second, we have something you need to know!" Octavius said. "Go 'way, Ock!" Carnage replied. The Hobgoblin approached him. "There was a laboratory explosion upstate earlier tonight." "That's nice. Lots of people die?" Carnage asked, still enjoying himself. "Only one. It was Screl's lab," the Hobgoblin epxlained. Carnage paused, thinking about what he'd heard. "THIS IS THE HAPPIEST MOMENT OF MY LIFE!" 9:14 PM Jake Arden watched the warehouse from his vantage point on one of Manhattan's many rooftops. He could see the Black wings, but decided to stay out of his affairs for the moment. He knew Carnage was in that warehouse as well, but without an entrance location, it was pointless to go in, guns blazing. He was well armed though, in case. He only wished he could take on all five of them right now. Someone was approaching. He turned, ready to fire. "Wait- you're not with Carnage," Jake said. "I see you're spying on Carnage as well. I know who you are, I've been watching Screl, too," the intruder said. Jake put the gun away. He didn't sense a threat. "So, what are you doing here?" "I've been watching both of them. I believe they may prove to be a serious threat in the near future. If so, I'd rather fight them now than later, even if it means letting certain enemies live," the stranger explained. "I see. I just turned on Screl. Name's Jake Arden." "You may call me Magneto." Notes: Set within the Marvel universe, I will be using my own continuity, mixed with new characterizations for some established characters from Marvel's story universe. These stories are a sequel to my fiction series Maximum Carnage. Cletus Kasady, Carnage, and others are copyright Marvel Comics. Jack Arden, Raicaak, and others are copyright myself. Other characters appearing may be owned by separate parties. I make no claim of copyright on any character I do not own, only on these stories and those I do own. Characters used without permission/not for profit. These are strictly fan stories. Permission to reprint extends to placing this text, unaltered, elsewhere online. It may not be altered, and especially NOT TO BE SOLD, unless Marvel wishes to license this series from me. Black Wings song and lyrics copyright Tom Waits.
