This is a side story for Heart of Iron and takes place around chapter 24…
Chapter 1: Trial in Silver
In the middle of a dry landscape, past the Mexican border, an old green truck traversed down a beaten dirt road. As the worn wheels rolled on, the dirt created a misty haze behind it. The sun overhead was harsh and it brought unyielding heat from a cloudless sky. It was normal for trucks such as this to ship people from Mexico to The United States but in this instance it was just the opposite. A single Caucasian male with dark brown unkempt hair sat in the back section of the truck, shielded by hay stacked up to form a sort of shelter from the harsh sun rays. His face was hard and stern, covered in sweat with a five o'clock shadow. The cargo pants which covered his legs were the color of dying leaves and the black boots on his feet were coated in layers of dirt.
This man's name was Marc Spector, a former mercenary also known as the vigilante Moon Knight, was from New York City where he had reunited with a grim Spider-Man and the New Avengers. Marc had left them some time ago, in search of a plot that seemed to go beyond the Empire State. To his heroic brethren, he is also known as the vigilante Moon Knight.
The bumps in the road occurred in varied intervals until the truck's movement finally came to a complete stop. Marc exited the back of the truck wearing a white cloth to cover his body and duffle bag which hung over his shoulder. Once he was off, the truck had roared to life and sped off, perhaps to the next transport job. The former mercenary walked on.
The wind brought dry air with little relief as he held his head down. He walked onward in the bright sun. The trek itself quickly reminded him of his time in Egypt before he died and was resurrected.
After a while Marc stopped and took a canteen from his bag and sipped the water sparingly before stuffing it back inside. He turned to look behind him a few times and saw nothing but heat lines in the blurry distance. Both of his bottom and top lips were beginning to chap, sweat accumulated at the top of his forehead and not long after he made a headband out of his white poncho to collect it.
He could see a structure in the blurred distance and his eyes widened. He put more energy into his every step, even after he stumbled. The town was just at his feet when Marc fallen to his knees from exhaustion. The Mexican townspeople looked at him with mixed reactions; some appeared concerned while others were indifferent and continued about their business. He saw children who surrounded a man who approached him with a joyous urgency and a grand smile under a thick mustache. His skin was dark and somewhat wrinkled to show his age as he grabbed Marc and pulled him back to his feet as the children crowded them both.
"MARC! Mi amigo, you made it"
"Nice to see you too Paco, cabron."
This man, Paco Chavez, was once an information broker who Marc met during his time in the CIA. Even after Marc left the central intelligence agency, Paco would prove invaluable for his later mercenary work. Shortly after he felt that his work was done, Chavez retired to Mexico and allowed his family to live a life of splendor. He had never spoken to him again since but here he was now, tired and dehydrated from the sun.
The native Mexican grabbed hold of Marc and helped carry him to his own truck's passenger seat. The children and onlookers continued to stare as the truck drove toward the other side of town. It was hotter in the cab of the truck than in the direct sunlight.
"Don't worry my friend, we'll get you to some AC, uno momento!"
"Remember the days when we used to live in luxury?" said a familiar voice, not Paco's but Marc's with a lighter tone. It was Steven Grant sitting in the back seat with a partially unbuttoned dress shirt and khakis. "Now look at us, somewhere in Mexico, dehydrated, if we're lucky Paco has a well-stocked liquor cabinet."
Marc avoided looking back at his alternate persona as Paco jumped into the driver's seat. The truck was so old you had to manually wine down the windows to get fresh air. The people who saw the truck pass by waved with affection at the driver. The buildings were closely built together, creating many narrow passages which seemed to form a maze. Each of the structures were block shaped with no protruding features like most architecture found in the US.
Chickens were left to roam free, pecking at the ground for food. The streets were dirt, well worn from countless people who traversed back and forth.
The dirt invaded the window as soon as the glass came down. The driver grinned with such joy that his teeth formed the perfect smile, perpetual. These people must have known Paco well to go out of their way to greet him. Back home in New York, people would barely say hi on the morning commute.
The truck pulled up to a large mansion high and as wide as a New York City block. Marc could see Steven draw close to the glass window to get an eye full of the property. A four story mansion with an open gate and green grass which spanned the size of four football fields. The truck drove up the driveway next to the front door of the house.
Paco opened the large front door for Marc to walk through before shutting it behind himself. A loud echo rang out, bouncing off of the walls and columns. They were greeted by a young woman in a sun dress. Tanned skin and long curled hair which ran down to the midsection of her back. The woman approached Paco and shot a look of distain at Marc
"A donde fuiste? She asked in Spanish
"Para recoger a mi amigo"
Marc couldn't understand Spanish that well but that was the point of having other identities like Jake Lockely and Steven Grant. They could do things and go places that he couldn't. Out of the three who would know Spanish better than Jake? The street wise cabby who traversed Spanish Harlem and the Bronx . At night it was only beneficial to know other languages of those who got into your car in case of hairy situations.
Jake placed his hand on Marc's shoulder and in that moment Marc could feel himself drifting away. His consciousness relinquished control to Jake. With Jake in the Captains seat, Marc's body took on new mannerisms, he looked less like a former mercenary and more like a guest waiting to be offered a beer.
"Brother, I do not like this man."
"Don't say that Rosa, I know him, he is a good man. Without him I would not be here"
"I thought we agreed to leave your past behind. What if he brings trouble with him?"
"If that is the case then I will deal with it. Now please, it will be dinner soon and He has been out in the wasteland for who knows how long."
The young woman Rosa took her leave as Paco ruffled his mustache. Jake couldn't help but watch Rosa as she left. At that moment he thought that her instincts about Marc were probably right, after all, those who got close to him were often hurt.
Paco looked back at his friend and mustered the strength to hide the tone of the previous conversation.
"Sorry about that, she's just a little unhappy with me"
"Don't worry about it pal, just direct me to where I can take my snooze cruise." Said Jake
Servants walked past them, greeting Jake and Paco as they passed. This reminded Jake of his time at the Grant estate, back on Long Island New York though that was mostly Steven's place. Jake felt that upscale places like this were too uppity for a blue collar guy like him but this couldn't be helped. On the way to their destination this stop had to be made for Marc to rest.
There were many rooms and many people to fill them up. The duo passed everyone that they came across until they reached Marc's room. It was a nice space with a window to a large king-sized bed which was soft as a cloud. Jake couldn't help but think of the smell of burning trash and fresh urine in New York, compared to the luxury as if a part of him missed the trappings of an old life.
Paco left and came back with a glass of water which Jake grasped with two hands and took steady gulps until the glass was empty.
"Take a nap my friend. I will came back for you when dinner is ready"
"Thanks pal"
Paco left Jake to rest in the comfort of a thin sheet with the window open to bring in fresh air and closed the door behind him.
When Jake awoke from his slumber and the feeling of exhaustion he had felt had lingered as well. It was an annoyance to wake without the full eight hours rest. Hunger also made itself known with a rumbling stomach.
"The grub better be 5 stars" mumbled Jake with his head buried in his chest.
"You say something Marc?" asked Paco, unsure if he had heard words or an extended groan.
"Not a thing, lead the way"
"You sound a little under the weather. The dry desert must have given you a sore throat" as Paco moved closer to Jake, trying to get a look at him.
Unbeknownst to Paco, inside of Marc's mind was certain conflict.
"Jake, you need to watch your tone. I don't want to give Paco a reason to think something is off with us. Try to be a little less of an ass."
"Well I'm sorry, if you want diplomacy I say moneybags are welcome to drive. I'm too tired for this anyway."
"I can do it Marc" said Stephen. "But I can't understand Spanish if they speak it"
"It's fine, Grant, I'll go" said Marc. "He knows me best anyway."
In little to no time Marc took back his body and felt the gravity press upon him again. His body could have used more time to recharge that in turn affected his mood but the little rest he got was good enough and food was another way to recharge.
Once again Paco led the way down the hall and some flights of steps until they reached a dining hall, a large room with a long table which stretched 5 yards with chairs on every side. Almost every seat was taken by someone from the family or friend of.
Marc stopped at the threshold of the hall when he got in. It was as though he was within an uncharted wilderness and in a sense he was. Everyone, especially Rosa, had looked upon the strange white man who came to pay their loved one an unexpected visit. He could see a few of them talk to each other in Spanish as he moved forward and searched for Paco.
His friend spoke to a woman close to and empty seat presumed to be his and after she moved it was clear that Paco asked her to. As the woman walked away she shot Marc, a look of scorn meant to cut deep and she wasn't the only one. Paco fanned his hand for Marc to approach and the eyes did not go away. He crept up and took the seat while Paco sat at the head of the table. It felt like being part of some kingdom, a long table filled with relatives and noblemen all looking for the opportunity to gain some favor.
At this moment Marc was just happy to get some food inside of his stomach which was ready to eat itself some time ago. The chefs shortly emerged from the kitchen with large portions of food. At that moment Marc didn't realize that there were people in the room, much less at the same table. His mouth instinctively watered while he licked his lips.
Paco turned to his friend and gave a humble smile while other people eyed him out of the corner of their eyes. Marc shoveled the rice into his mouth with large portions of chicken. He could feel the food as it hit the bottom of his stomach and piled on. His right hand reached out and grabbed bread from a basket within reach and bit into it. Still satisfying the hunger in his stomach, he scooped up some pork from a neighboring plate and dropped it onto his.
Everyone watched him gorge himself and make faces but Paco laughed out loud and slapped his friend on the back. "It looks like Rosa still has her touch" he said in Spanish but Marc could still hear the translation.
"Either that or this grengo doesn't taste too well" chuckled one man from down the table. Others joined in the laughter, causing the laughs to bounce off the walls of the hall and echo.
"If you feel that way Diageo than have you're woman make something" responded a middle-aged woman down the table. "She can't do much else"
"Bitch"
"I don't want to hear this at the table" said Paco. "Like I said before this man is my friend and so he will not be disrespected by anyone. If you feel any different you're welcome to leave."
Everyone grew silent but the entire time Marc continued to eat while knowing every word that transpired but on a chance glimpse at Rosa Marc saw that she scowled at him and averted her eyes again
After he was done and could no longer look at the spread look to his friend at the head chair who simply smiled. Dinner continued without much more talking after that. Marc had filled himself so much that it had hurt to just simply sit up straight.
"Your friend can eat Miho, I like him"
"I am glad mother. I would not be here if it weren't for him. He is a good man."
The family ate their food and made no further comments about Marc or at least not in public.
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After the dinner everyone dispersed from the dining room to other sections of the house including Spector's friend. Marc could feel his stomach was still full and in an effort to empty it he took it upon himself to walk around. Though eyes questioned his presence he proceeded as the rightful guest that he was. Truly the house made him reflect on his past life, the old mansion on Long Island.
Money made a man feel like a king but Marc used his to do more good in the service of something great. Now there was nothing, nothing but the small stash left in a hidden bunker and most of that money went to the coyote to get him over the border. Now he was just a man relying on his talents to survive.
He came across a library with two floors and a staircase. The books were no doubt rare and held great value. After walking up a flight of steps Marc's eyes instinctively looked onto a book titled "Deities and Demi-Gods" and plucked it off of the shelf and scoffed. His friend had created a solitary life for himself.
"An avatar need not question his God," said the moon God, Khonshu.
"I am aware of our relationship but you know I don't just follow orders blindly, not anymore."
"Purpose I have given you, to strike those who harm others. Is that not what you desire?"
"…"
"there is no need for words. You are my son and so I will provide you with guidance on your journey. This world breeds so much conflict of its own and yet I hunger."
"I know that"
"Then remain vigilant, fore you have eaten and it is my turn to be fed…" said Khonshu before he paused. "Someone approaches."
Just then, one of the house servants strolled into the library from the lower floor and beckoned Spector's attention. He wore a black and white suit
"Senor Spector? Said the servant. "Doninar Chavez has called for you in front of the house. I will guide you."
Marc placed the book on Deities back on the shelf and the two walked out into the front of the mansion where Paco waited by his old truck with the keys in his hand.
"I want to show you something," said Paco as he slammed the palm of his hand on the hood of the truck.
The two of them got into the car and drove off into the night. They traversed dark roads under the cover of the full moon to guide them. Neither said anything during the ride which lasted 20 minutes. When it was over the car pulled up to a construction site which was blocked off by a fence. It spanned a great distance around.
Marc's friend was the first to step out of the car and close the door behind him before approaching the gate. Marc followed after him as Paco unlocked the gates to reveal mounds of cinderblocks, cement mixers, trucks, cranes and cables. It was a construction site, one with little work done for however long work had been going on. They walked to a half done gazebo near the center of the scene.
"What's this about" asked the ex-mercenary.
"I know who you are Marc"
The lunar legionnaire felt his body stiffen at the sound of that sentence. "What do you mean?"
"Do we have to play this game? You know that I used to deal in information. While I am out of the business I have my ways. I kept an eye on you and some other interesting characters after my retirement, I am a big fan."
Marc said nothing. Chavez had part of the picture but he didn't know about everything. It was best to just let him talk.
"for a number of years you were dorment, addicted to pills but when you came back I heard that you fought the Taskmaster. Your methods have become more brutal but if I know anything you only want to do some kind of good."
"Just spit it out, Paco, what do you want?"
"The U.S. is having a war with itself to see who has the right to save a cat from a tree. You contacted me because you are on your way to do good, now I need you to stop and help me save someone tonight."
"I'm listening."
"I used my funds from my information broker days to retire. I pooled my money into this site you see here, a luxury resort to draw in tourists and revenue for my people to expand but that takes more investors than I thought, which brings me to my next point. Recently there was an abduction. An accountant's daughter was kidnapped some time ago. From what I know the first payment was made but they never released her. I could use a capable man such as him in my favor, but more importantly, I want you to get the child back alive."
"Why not someone else?" asked Marc as he looked to the moon "Wouldn't you want someone more… discreet."
"I don't know how things are up North but strange things are happening down here. From what I heard, any mercs that have been sent to rescue the girl never came back and you're the one of the hardest men to kill that I know."
"If this mission of his leads to blood then I deem this venture a worthy cause. And second, this young girl is a traveler by night. She must be protected" whispered Khonshu.
Marc looked at Paco without blinking as he gave his answer. "I'll do it. Drop me off by the house so I can get my stuff."
Chavez put his hand out for Marc to grab and shake, forming a gentleman's agreement. In a sense it was like an exchange for services rendered, much like the old days.
That night Marc returned to the solitude of his room and closed the door behind him but after doing so he realized that one of the windows was cracked open and he did not remember touching them at all. He began to creep around the room with his guard up.
A sword came down from the ceiling, the flat side rested upon Marc's shoulder with the blade facing his neck. His body didn't tense up in response to this action.
"Why do people just refuse to look up?" said a voice from up above.
"Because too many important things happen on the ground" said Marc.
"That sounds like one reason. Another is that you're too damn lazy."
The man on the ceiling dropped down behind Marc with his blade still holding its place on his shoulder. This man was covered in a black suit with gold trimmings, green shin and arm guards. His names was Ronin, The masterless samurai and he was sent specifically for the purpose to follow Marc since he left the New Avengers underground base In New York ( back in Heart of Iron, chapter 10)
"Thought you lost me huh?" said the voice with a sly tone.
"Actually Clint, I was getting tired of you falling behind."
The warrior removed his blade from Marc's shoulder and slid it back into the sheath which rested on his hip. After that he removed his Black and gold mask to reveal his face was that of Clint Barton, formerly known as Hawkeye. He was sent by Luke Cage to follow Marc Spector on his mission to do recon on a possible enemy base in South America.
While Marc was always out dispensing justice on the streets of New York, Clint was more known to the world through his Avengers status and the guise of Hawkeye. Though they were two people from different circles , it didn't mean that they did not work together.
In the Past Clint had started his own Avengers branch in California. It was called the West Coast Avengers and Marc had joined up for a time but that's when he found that he didn't mesh well with others. Eventually he left and returned to New York as a solo act.
"Thought I lost you after the border crossing" said Marc as he walked towards the nearest wall and leaned on it.
"You did but you weren't so stealthy that I couldn't find out where you were going"
"The coyote told you, didn't he?"
"He did after I threatened his genitals, I guess he loves his, am I right?" Clint laughed to himself as Marc just grilled him. "Anyway, he dropped me off where he dropped you then I followed your tracks and bingo one Moon knight."
"So what? You want to be my sidekick?" said Marc.
"I was thinking of a temporary Partnership. Since I'm shadowing you whether you like it or not.
Marc looked at Clint Barton with eyes of discernment. A small team up wouldn't be too bad and the life of a child was in the balance. That innocent life was more important than his distaste for playing with others, he would have to make due.
"There is something I need to do first before I leave" Marc rummaged through his travel bag and pulled out his white hood "There's a kid that needs rescuing, tonight. The Shadows man needs to be delt with but this comes first. You can help or you can stay out of the way, your choice."
Clint took a seat on a bench at the foot of the king-sized bed.
"Of course, I'll help" said Ronin and a moment later his stomach rumbled "But can I get something to eat? I'm starving."
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Moon Knight drove a truck through the darkness of night with Ronin in the passenger seat. There was no talking as the truck moved into a grassy plain with trees. There was supposedly an old mansion in the area being used as a base of operations until the kidnappers could collect their ransom. Paco gave him a map to keep track of the distance and when the heroes reached two miles from the destination.
They trudged through the land on foot while Ronin occasionally scouting ahead but that didn't prepare them for what they saw.
It patrolled the wooded area alone. Covered in fur with a snout like a German Sheppard. It stood up like a man but was more akin to a dog on its hymned legs. Ronin wondered if it was a crazy experimental monster but Moon Knight knew exactly what it was, a Werewolf.
It rose its nose into the air and took deep sniffs before it moved onto another area.
"Why the hell is that here?" said Ronin
"I don't know but there's sure to be more" said Moon Knight "The good news is I've fought worse"
When Marc first started out, he was contracted by a group called the committee to capture the Werewolf, Jack Russell. Through their shared history, Jack's wolf form had mutated with time. He was twice the size of the wolf they just saw, far more savage and Marc still won their last fight.
The two heroes watched the wolf wander off and they pressed on. Along the way it grew easier to notice that the air was thick with death. The parts of torn bodies could be seen and smelled. The teams that were sent likely didn't survive to tell the tale.
Along the way they saw It seemed that they had random patrols because they hadn't encountered more until they reached the mansion. There were at least eight of them, all similar to the last one they came across. Even with his cape and armor dirty, the Moon Knight stood out from his surroundings and that's that way he wanted it. Because it was always meant for them to see him coming.
The plan was simple enough, if not crazy. Moon Knight would get their attention while Ronin focused on retrieving the girl.
He walked out from the cover of the trees like a ghost, patient and without fear of death. A nearby wolf locked eyes with him and howled to gain the attention of its comrades, the knight did not flinch.
They formed a pack of eight before the move was made to rush him. With resolve he held his ground as his cloak covered his body and hid his hands from view. In a quick motion, his arms escaped from the cloak in an arc motion with thin crescent moon darts between each pair of fingers, each one made of silver. The wolves could see nothing but the glint they made as the moonlight struck them.
The razor-sharp darts tore through fur and flesh and in response, weak yelps could be heard. They were pups. He dug into the belt on his waist and slipped a pair of silver knuckles with spikes on them onto his right hand. His left hand gripped his truncheon.
With little to no caution he dashed towards them with flying fists. Blood and fur soon coated his hands and stained his suit. His lord Khonshu was sure to be pleased, fore tonight he would have his tribute in blood. They slashed, groped and bit but the man did not yell. He felt pain but he was not scared, because he was in his realm of expertise. This was what he called "the fun stuff."
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As the lunar warrior fought to his heart's content, the rogue warrior made his way into the mansion. The house was old and only recently occupied. Thick coatings of dust lay on many surfaces, but the wooden floors were clear of dust yet covered in wet saliva, apparently due to the wolves having moved about. Cobwebs hung from the chandeliers but the most alarming detail was that the walls were covered in scratches and blood.
Intel suggested that the girl may have been held on the second floor and had at least two guards.
Clint found himself hoping that MK was going to be alright. With all of the noise that was coming from outside, any werewolves wondering the perimeter would be sure to regroup on his position. But it wasn't his job to worry. If the girl was alive, he would need to be at his best to keep her that way.
He was sure to lightly step on the ground that was already clear of dust. His ears took in every audible change. If a step made the ground moan, he would shift his weight so as not to give away his position. He could hear the wailing of a young girl at the top of the stairs. She had to be out of tears because her sounds were nothing but dry heaves left.
As he eased his way to the staircase, he could hear footsteps in the distance on the hardwood floors. Something down the hall was on its way. He hurried past two sliding doors which lead to a dark ball room and hide against a nearby wall. The footsteps came closer and then passed by. Clint took the chance to peek from behind a cover and as he saw it, a chill fell over his body.
A werewolf who stood 8 feet tall stalked the main hall. It was covered in thick brown fur and slash marks covered its body. Its hands and feet had claws at least 6 inches long. As it sniffed the air, Clint felt that chill spread over his body. He remembered that the day was very hot and that he hadn't thought to clean himself up. His body would give off the one thing that would be detected by the wolf's senses… his scent.
A clawed hand pierced the wall Ronin hid behind and forced him out into the open. The wolf pulled it's hand from the wall and let out a howl.
Ronin drew his sword from its sheath as the lycan peered at him from the doorway and bore its long fangs. The former Avengers threw a bomb out in front of his target. It was filled with a sleeping gas that enveloped the beast only for it to emerge unphased.
"Don't worry Clint, you're doing just fine. Moon Knight is going to burst through that front door any second now."
As the wolf took several steps forward as the main door far behind it remained as still as stone.
The rogue warrior took a step backwards "Shit."
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Moon Knight ran, to put distance between himself and the mansion as the average sized wolves chased after him. They had the mentality of an inexperienced pack, detailed in the way they got in each other's way. He led them to an area with a cluster of trees and changed directions as the wolves tripped over each other to reach him. Somehow it didn't seem fair to string them along.
When they did manage to claw him, his suit offered as much protection as it could. The kevlar killed some of the force before the claw finally got to his skin. Marc's own blood flowed out, coating his white vestments with scarlet but he did not allow that to distract him. The adrenaline was a wonderful thing to him, the energy it brought and pain it could drown out.
As the enemy began to fight, Moon Knight took control of the situation. He didn't have powers but there was a magic to achieving a flow state. Everything just worked out the way it needed to. A kick to a wolf's leg stunned it long enough to hit another in the eye with a crescent dart. His cape, though it was tattered, was enough to blind a wolf's eye for a punch with his spiked knuckle duster.
He was a man but they began to fear him as something more. Their lives were in his hands, but should he give them to his god he thought. For most, killing was a hard thing to do. They wouldn't allow themselves to go to that dark place, but Marc had been there plenty of times before he became the vengeful Moon Knight. For him, letting his enemy live was the hard part.
"Do it! Finish them! Pay tribute to the one who raised you" called Khonshu.
The slashed and brutalized werewolves were beginning to retreat. This was a mistake, as it left them open to attack. With precious targeting, Marc launched his moon days at their Achilles tendons. This move killed their ability to use their legs, crippling them all.
He watched them whimper and attempt to crawl away. If they did look back at him, their eyes were filled with fear of this ghostly figure cast in white. He was their God then.
The wolves shrank in size and shed their fur. Their snouts reversed and they were human beings again. With their achilles heels sliced, these men were far from a threat.
Khonshu's voice boomed in Marc's mind, screamed for his avatar. "Finish them, my son. Pay me my tribute."
Marc kneeled down and took back the moon dart in his victims hairless skin covered in blood.
"Let the blood flow like the rivers of the Nile in my name."
The set up was perfect. All he had to do was finish the job and yet he stayed his hand. These people did not look like killers, they did not strain to fight him tooth and nail but rather curl up to protect themselves. They were Mexican citizens. Victims like other poor souls turned into weapons.
The white spector proceeded to pick up his moon darts that littered the ground as his God roared in destain.
"Have I not given you back your life time and time again? Have I not given you purpose where others discarded you? And yet you treat me as though I were a mere beggar."
Moon Knight left the people behind on the ground as he trekked back to the mansion "These people don't serve your wrath, they are victims."
"There is blood on their hands all the same."
"I will find you better tribute, Khonshu."
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Ronin took small steps back into the as the werewolf stalked closer in the darkened ballroom.
Clint himself was another human with no notable powers to speak of but he had turned his body into a deadly weapon. While many knew him for using a bow, neither it or a sword were average in his hands. The sword weighed heavier than most could handle. The heft made the cut worse for anyone on the receiving end.
He readied his blade and took his stance. Though his opponent was a monstrous wolf it's body could be exposed, same as a normal person. When it swiped at him with his right claw, he stepped to the left and slashed it's forearm.
The Lycan came a heinous growl. It's eyes looked to the new cut and back at Ronin.
"Why did I have to get the big one?" Said Clint begrudgingly.
It lunged at him and in return he rolled to his feet on the right. As the lycan launched past him, his sword cut it from below its left arm and down to its waist.
The beast landed rough on the old floors and slid as it's blood gave it a new shine. It was back up in no time though and it's new cut began to heal shortly after. Clint readied himself for the next attack when something struck him from behind. He was knocked down to the floor and vulnerable. A bullet hit his kevlar armor and was stopped, yet the former avenger felt the full pain of the impact.
A man in tactical gear stepped into the hall with a rifle in his hands. "I thought I heard something."
He watched as the werewolf stalked closer to Ronin with drool flowing from its mouth. Clearly, the beast was not fed enough. It pounced as the man watched.
"This is better than any nature show, you mind if I take pictures?" he said with smugness.
But as the wolf leaped for Ronin two moon darts flew into its eyes, blinding it. The creature landed short of The rogue warrior, which allowed him to regain his breath and stand.
Moon Knight appeared just in time to deliver a punch to the man in tactical gear. Then on the floor, which allowed The hero to take the rifle and hit the owner with the butt of it.
Ronin watched as the werewolf roared in pain. He brought his sword up as his eyes locked into its neck and after he brought it down, its head fell free.
"Hmmm, it didn't turn back" said Marc
"You really took your sweet time."
"I made it back, that's what matters. Do you need a minute?"
"No, let's hurry up before they do something to the girl."
Both heroes made it up the stairs. Moon knight was first as he looked around the second floor and saw a room with a light on. The door was open. As he walked into the doorway, he signaled for Ronin to stay back.
Another man in black tactical gear held the little girl at gunpoint. A few lit candles revealed the dried trails of tears From her eyes. She gave a dry cough and wailed so weakly that one would guess that she spent most of her energy struggling since capture.
"If you hurt that girl I'll hurt you" said Marc plain and simple.
"Moon Knight? What the hell is a lunatic like you doing down here?" said the man panicked. "Don't step any closer, or the girl dies"
The white spector remained in the doorway and put his hands up "Fine I'll stay here."
Ronin took the opportunity to duck into a room neighboring the one occupied by the Mercenary. If he was focused on Moon Knight, it was the perfect opportunity to sneak up on him from a blindspot. There was a window on the opposite side of the room, which meant the Merc might have had his back to a window himself.
He slowly lifted the window and crawled to the outside of the mansion. A walkway led right to the adjacent room like he thought. The floor was also made of wood, exposed to the elements for so long without being tended to that it creaked with every step he took. To remedy this he took his time to strep as lightly as possible.
He snuck up to it and peered through the dusty glass to find the man still threatening MK with the girl at gunpoint. The window was left open by a crack but it might alert the hostage taker if it decided to squeak at the wrong moment.
There was enough space for a shuriken to go through and find it's target but it needed the right momentum. in a knelt position With one shuriken between his fingers, readied his arm. He turned his torso for the extra leverage when the floorboards yawned under his weight. His heart skipped a beat at that moment.
As the Mercenary lost his composure and turned to look at the cause, MK reached for his silver truncheon and launched it. The silver knight stick took the gun out of the merc's hand. Moon Knight pried the youth from his enemies hands as Ronin burst through the glass window and knocked the man down.
In his arms, the girl was so afraid that she tried to fight him tooth and nail. Ronin took out a smoke bomb and held it up to her face. She slept peacefully after that.
"Mission accomplished" said Clint as he threw the gas bomb out of the window.
"Not quite." Moon Knight placed the girl down upon an old mattress and proceeded to interrogate the Merc in black.
They were in another country and yet this man spoke english, he was American and yet the Werewolves were Mexican people, too disoriented to be part of this plot. This man had to answer to someone.
"What does your boss want with this girl?"
"Go to hell Casper!"
MK picked up his truncheon and then proceeded to remove his captives' armored gear before smashing his hands. Torture was something that came naturally with a background like his. He worked on the man's hands, then torso. It took time but eventually the merc caved like a house of cards.
It turned out that the little girl's kidnapping was just a ploy to collect information for an experiment. The wolves were subjects for a method of creating werewolves and tested to see how well they functioned in combat. They took the girl because her father was well connected with people who commanded small armies. If he paid the ransom, the Mercs got a little bonus but whether he paid or not, they would kill the girl. Either way, the battle data was the real prize.
Naturally, the merc had to have a way to reach this employer in case the mission went sideways. Upon inspection Marc found a radio.
After that he could hear Khonshu in his ear again, yelling for blood and he would finally have it.
"Aren't you going to let me go?" said the Mercenary
"Sure I will but not to where you'd like."
The knight proceeded to bash the man's head with his truncheon and stained his white suit in scarlet. Ronin turned away from the scene and took the little girl away as blood splattered the walls. When it was over, the man was dead and Khonshu had quelled after having been served a tribute.
"Did you really have to do that?" asked Ronin
Marc simply responded "yes." He would then proceed to kill the other merc he left behind in the dance hall.
As they walked back to their vehicle, a voice called out on the radio. Ronin continued to carry the girl to the truck as MK answered it. The voice on the other end used some kind of voice modulator, which made it hard to tell if it was a man or woman.
"Team Fenrir, you have failed to check in. What is the status of the operation?"
"Your employees are meeting with a higher power."
The voice took a moment to pause before answering back. "I never expected you to be all the way down here, Mr. Spector."
"And I didn't expect to see engineered werewolves down here."
"I hope you found them challenging, this experiment was based on your exploits."
"Far from it. These were puppies compared to the real thing.
"Well, this was only a trial run. I suggest you go back to your brightly colored brethren in the states. The south doesn't belong to you."
"He doesn't but I go where I'm needed and by the looks of it, you've given me plenty of work."
"I see. You've chosen the self destructive path then."
"It's no fun otherwise
"Then until next time, Moon Knight."
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By the time sunlight touched the mansion, Moon Knight and Ronin returned the girl to his former information broker. Those subjected to the wolf experiment were also picked up by Paco's people and would be kept for the time being until they could be returned to normal and brought back to their original homes. Their achilles tendons were already in the process of healing but they needed bandages as well as rehabilitation. Paco was happy to help them.
For what he had done the night before, Marc had made a new enemy, which he was fine with because most of his rogues gallery was dead anyway. These new people would soon learn why.
The little girl was brought back to her father a bit shaken up but alive. Paco was sure that a father could not disagree with the bottom line if his daughter could live on into adulthood.
After a full day of rest, Clint Barton and Marc Spector were ready to move on to Marc's main objective. The possible secret location tied to the MGH plot.
As thanks, a fueled up truck with provisions was parked in front of the mansion for Marc and Clint to travel with. Their suits were also cleaned, which were damaged. Gone were the blood stains of MK and werewolves from his white and silver vestments.
Before the two men departed for their greater goal, Marc was handed a file filled with photos and papers.
"What is this?" asked the fist of Khonshu with a blank stare to Paco.
"There are more people that could use your help. You may also find some surprises along the way as well."
"Why are you doing all of this?" Marc said as he took the folder and looked inside. One of the photos was surprising enough to give him pause.
"Like I said before, I am a fan and there is something I want to see in my lifetime. Something others need to know."
Paco turned to look behind him to see the little girl who was rescued and his own younger sister who kept her company. The girl waved with great appreciation for her two rescuers.
The locations in the folder were all along the way to his main objective. If he was lucky, all of the things going on down south were connected.
Marc closed the folder and handed it off to Clint, who stood beside him. The former Hawkeye then climbed into the truck's passenger seat and flipped through the folder himself. A moment later he made a whistle noise
"Are we doing this?" called out Clint.
As Marc climbed into the driver's seat he didn't answer. Yet he knew that it might be inevitable that Khonshu would call him to action again. He would have to do what was expected of him.
Paco walked up to the driver's side and placed a hand on is former ally's left shoulder "Go with God, Spector"
The former mercenary looked ahead at the road before him and said "I go, God's just along for the ride."