"If you want the title-if you want the name-then you need to get out there and earn it."
That was what "John," his handler, had said to him on the drive over, via the car's secret radio gear. Or rather, what he'd shouted at him. Sentinel-3 had never heard so much desperation in his voice. And he'd actually used the radio for once, which was another sign of just how important this mission was. John was the youngest handler he'd ever had, so you'd think that he'd like the Agency's latest gizmos, but that wasn't always the case. He only used the car radio in extreme emergencies. John preferred the older communication methods, such as coded drop messages and numbers stations. He hated the idea of sending a verbal message over the air-even if the signal was protected by the new Stark Industries scrambler.
'Halo Knight' is driving the Agency crazy. He could reveal the existence of mutants to the world, or go over to the Russians, or both. If I don't take care of this ASAP, the suits are liable to do something stupid.
After the fight at the hotel, Sentinel-3 had picked himself up, hightailed it out of there, and gotten to his car. It had been easy to follow the procession of cop cars. Once they'd led him to Halo Knight's landing spot, he'd parked a few blocks away. He'd seen Daredevil and Angel talking to some cops, but he'd kept his distance until they went inside, because he was afraid they'd say, "Hey, there's a bad guy!", and that the cops would simply believe them and try to arrest him.
Sentinel-3 had infiltrated Russian gulags and Latverian castles. A Manhattan office building cordoned off by cops...it wasn't much of a challenge, really. He did have his fake FBI badge on him, but he didn't look like an FBI agent, right now. (Sentinel-3 was still in his working-man disguise. Dark jacket, a sweater, jeans, workboots, a stocking cap.) And he didn't want to waste time having a conversation, anyway. Instead, he'd grabbed all the guns and ammo he could, snuck into the building, and followed the heroes' path. They'd helpfully left the secret passage door open for him.
He made his way down the sloping tunnel, a gun in each hand...and when he saw what was at the bottom, he was absolutely incredulous. A huge secret base underneath America's biggest city? It was a security failure of epic proportions; the kind of thing that could end careers. But he shouldn't have been surprised. The Agency had gotten caught up in their ridiculous feud with Kennedy, and this had slipped through the cracks.
"Backup is on the way, but I don't know if it'll get there in time," John had told him. Another Sentinel-level operative was flying in from Los Angeles. Also, the Agency was hastily assembling a second kill-squad to help them, to replace the one that Halo Knight had torn through. But it'd be hours before either party arrived. And with so many cops outside, the press wouldn't be far behind, so it'd be a little too high-profile for the Agency's liking. Sentinel-3 was already inside, and one man was much less obtrusive than an entire tactical team. They wanted him to try to "resolve the situation" himself.
Sentinel-3 didn't know it, but he picked a different door. Instead of venturing into the world's creepiest museum, he found himself in the barracks, walking past rows of perfectly-made bunkbeds. Folded green-and-red uniforms told him that the base belonged to the man known as the General. The mutant going over to the General was bad, but at least it wasn't the Russians. Also, the General was a brilliant strategist, and he was what made his organization so dangerous. But he was currently locked up. Without him, well, his men might have numbers on their side, but they were simply ordinary soldiers.
He kept going. Like Angel, he noticed the strange architecture. America's enemies were getting more unusual (and advanced) by the day. Eventually, he came to a three-pronged crossroads: the showers, a fancier set of barracks, and a long corridor. He chose the corridor.
When he'd reported to John, he'd been vague about his confrontation with Daredevil. Sentinel-3 felt ashamed and embarrassed about how the fight had gone. He'd omitted certain details, and while he wouldn't have lied if John had asked him about it directly, he'd been fortunate, because John didn't care about that right now. He was completely focused on Halo Knight.
Yeah, you held your own...but you got distracted for a second, and he put you on the floor. You want to be the new Captain America, and you can't even beat the least-powerful hero out there? That's pathetic. America deserves better, and you know it. In some ways, being an Agency hitter has prepared you for the mantle, but in other ways, it really hasn't. You've gotten used to killing people in their sleep, and relying on guns too much. Yeah, you were trained to be one of the best fighters in the world, but Agency protocol is to be as stealthy as possible, and that usually means avoiding fights. I've punched and kicked my way through ten armed men when I had to, but only as a last resort. Sure, I've probably been doing this longer than Daredevil, but he has more recent-and frequent-combat experience. And it's been a long time since I fought anyone remotely as good as him. But at least I know, now. I know how much I need to improve.
Sentinel-3 sprinted down the corridor, shocked at the lack of resistance. Where was everybody? The base wasn't abandoned; it was clearly occupied. Daredevil and Angel were already in here, so maybe the General's troops were distracted by them...but he didn't hear any gunfire, and sound would have really echoed through a base like this. Something wasn't right. Either Daredevil and Angel had already gotten captured, or the General's men had decided that something was more important than security.
He eventually came across what could best be described as a shrine. The room had a few plaques on the wall-quotes about understanding one's enemies-but most of the room had been filled with pictures. Those pictures were on the floor, now, either crumpled up or crossed out with black ink. Sentinel-3 knelt down for a closer look. The pictures were of the Fantastic Four, but someone had written on them, statements like "Wrong!" and "Not them!" and "What happened?" There was a large picture frame on one wall, which was labeled "THE ENEMY". But there wasn't a picture in it. Instead, there were pieces of paper with large question marks on them.
Seeing the heroes' faces...it made him think about the way that Daredevil had looked at him, during their fight. It had been a look of absolute disgust. A look that said "You're nothing but a killer, just another thug with a gun."
I want to be more. I want to be one of you, and help change the world for the better. But, if I don't complete this mission, I'll never have a real shot at winning the job. The other Candidates aren't as qualified as I am, it needs to be me. Halo Knight is standing between me and a chance to help my country. Once I've put him down, I can leave all this behind.
Then, suddenly, Sentinel-3 heard footsteps and voices.
He flattened against the nearest wall, guns at the ready. It sounded like there were two of them-they must have come from the opposite direction, because they were in the next room over. There was apparently a flight of stairs, as he heard their footsteps descend, and their voices become muffled. They seemed to be arguing about something. Sentinel-3 waited five seconds, went around the corner, and followed them.
"-knew we weren't crazy," one of them was saying.
"Yeah, okay...he remembers who the Enemy is, and that's great. But does that mean we have to do this?"
"The darkness is coming for us-the Void-so we're dead anyway, right? We might as well take him down with us."
Sentinel-3 had to pause, bracing himself against the stairwell's railing. The word "Void" had sent him for a loop. Daredevil had gotten some good shots in, so he was probably just woozy from that.
"I'm just saying, the General isn't here, so we don't know what he'd do. I think he'd order us to fall back and regroup. The Enemy should be the priority, not the Enemy's enemies."
"If we do this, it'll help the General, period. One less problem for him to worry about."
Sentinel-3 went down the stairs, keeping a safe distance between himself and his quarry. The first level he came to was an oversized training area. It was empty, thank god, so there was no one to raise the alarm. He wasn't surprised to find such a place in a base like this, but the next level was much stranger. It was less than half the size of the training area, and it contained what looked like movie sets, almost. Mock-ups of building interiors. Going from left to right, Sentinel-3 saw a "bank," a "restaurant," and a "courtroom." They must have practiced operations, here. Armed assaults or undercover jobs or both.
(He saw something interesting above the fake restaurant: thin, transparent netting that was weighed down with green and red confetti. The netting was the size of two or three Buicks. In addition to training, they must have used that set for real celebrations.)
The two soldiers were still arguing, and Sentinel-3 heard another noise, as well. A sort of humming...
The soldiers were approaching the next level, but Sentinel-3 was still up by the "movie sets," trailing them from a distance. A quick glance down told him that the stairs ended at the level below this one. Then, a third voice was added to the mix, and the two soldiers abruptly stopped. Sentinel-3 froze. An older-sounding man asked them if they'd finished their patrol, and they said yes. But, when he asked them if they'd checked the "multi-purpose floor," they hesitated and said no. The older man told them to "Stop being women and do it." He also said that they should do something else, but Sentinel-3 didn't quite hear him. "Get the backup now" or "Let the backup out."
Sentinel-3 went up a few steps and darted toward the movie sets. This was the level they were supposed to search, he was sure, but it sounded like everybody was on the level below this one, so he needed to stay close. The sets offered him plenty of places to hide, and there were only two guards to deal with. With any luck, one of them would be about his size, and he could steal a uniform and use it for infiltration. He'd just have to do it before they got their "backup."
Yeah, it's a little easier when you're a spy, and you can sneak around in the shadows and engage in subterfuge. But what will you do if you get the Cap job? You'll be a red, white, and blue target, drawing fire from all of America's enemies. Doing this stuff out in the daylight is more heroic...but it's more dangerous for you, too.
Sentinel-3 ran behind the judge's bench in the courtroom and crouched behind it. It brought back memories; he hadn't been in a courtroom since he was a teenager. A few seconds later, he heard the guards tromping around, loudly whining about having to check the place. Not very professional. His coat was stuffed with guns and ammo, but he didn't have a silencer on him, so he'd have to deal with these guys hand-to-hand. That was fine by him. After what happened with Daredevil, he was ready to take his frustration out on someone.
It wasn't a thorough or enthusiastic search. The two of them looked around, but they sounded uneasy, and they never came close to his hiding spot. They'd apparently been dealing with memory issues, because they kept talking about some unfamiliar-sounding super-types that they'd just now remembered. A yellow-and-blue "Sentry" and a shadowy "Void." (Sentinel-3 felt little mental twinges when he heard the guards talking about them, but he was focused on the mission, and he ignored them.)
The two guards moved beyond the "movie sets," which was good. He didn't want to take them in a spot that could be seen from the stairs. Sentinel-3 crept out from his hiding place, and he saw that one of them was his size, so his uniform would do just fine. They were now walking down a corridor. The guard that was his size was opening a door that led into a dark storage room-you could see the crates-while the other one remained outside and gave him some sort of activation code. As a Cold Warrior, Sentinel-3 immediately thought they were talking about nuclear missiles, but it could have been for some crazy Space Age weapon, as well. A death-ray or something. He had no idea why a weapon like that would be in a random storage room, but he didn't have time to wonder about it.
Sentinel-3 had been following them from a distance. He quickly advanced, pistol-whipping the smaller guard in the back of the head, and then rushing the guard in the storage room. That one actually managed to swing at him. Sentinel-3 reflexively ducked it, and an uppercut and roundhouse kick to the head knocked the man out. Both of them were down in less than ten seconds, it had been quiet, and he didn't hear any witnesses. It didn't get any better than that. He took their guns away, setting them to the side; he'd take a look at them in a minute. The storage room had loops of electrical wire hanging on the wall, and he used some of it to bind them. As for keeping them quiet, well, their uniforms included goofy red handkerchiefs, and they made perfect gags.
With the guards beaten and secured, he took a peek inside the crates. They were open, and they were full of...toys, for some reason. Tanks and helicopters and jets. There were dozens of them, and they were the size of expensive models, a little too big to hold in one hand.
The toys started moving.
At first, he thought that he was hallucinating, but it was real. The tanks crashed right out of the crates, splintering wood as they went, and the jets and helicopters hovered into the air, facing him. He heard something charging up-a bunch of somethings charging up. Electric glows emanated from their ridiculous little weapons, and they started firing tiny streams of electricity at him.
YOU'VE GOTTA BE KIDDING ME-
Sentinel-3 opened fire, but they swarmed on him, zapping him with painful electrical stings, and he was forced to spin on his heel and run for his life. He retreated to the "movie set" area, jumping behind the bank teller counter and using it as cover. The swarm of...of little robot vehicles formed a half-circle, surrounding him and trapping him against the "bank wall." Crackling blue streams gradually ate away at the counter, the wall, and the cash registers.
He'd only fought human beings. Thanks to classified CIA briefings, he knew that there were robots, and aliens, and even stranger things, but this was his first time dealing with something like that. His usual enemies had eyes that you could look into, and blood that could be spilled. This just felt sickening. The robots were buzzing around like insects, more collective than individual, and they were cold and unthinking.
Yeah, Mr. Tough Guy Secret Agent is about to be killed by a bunch of rogue toys. That's just perfect. Welcome to 1963, buddy.
The term hadn't been invented yet, but it was a target-rich environment, and Sentinel-3 understood the concept. All he had to do was stick his guns over the counter and fire blind. He heard the bullets strike home, resulting in small explosions and metal hitting the floor. But he quickly ran out of ammo, and he had to reload...while he did that, he braced himself, preparing for them to advance on him. But they didn't. They must have been programmed to corner an opponent and attack from a distance, first.
That'll help. But this shootout is announcing your presence to the rest of the base: unless something really crazy is going on, the guards and other troops will be here in no time.
Sentinel-3 fired, reloaded, fired, and reloaded again. When he ran out of ammo for his current guns, he tossed them aside and switched to new ones. He had to be making a dent in the robots, but the counter was slowly being eaten away by the electrical blasts, and he'd have to move, soon.
I remember hearing something about this: the General doesn't just use human soldiers, he uses these little robots, too. They always follow orders and never leak information. 'Sam,' my previous handler, mentioned them in one of his speeches about the new super-threats. He was always lecturing me ab-
The robots' attacks abruptly paused, and when they resumed, Sentinel-3 also heard the whir of tank-treads. They were coming for him. He couldn't go forward...but, while the bank counter was real oak, the wall behind it was just a flimsy set. The barrage of electrical blasts had Swiss-cheesed it. Sentinel-3 launched himself through it, and then ran to the side, using the intact part of the wall as cover. Some of the vehicles followed him, and some remained on the other side and tried to cut him off. He was forced to run right into their fire. They exchanged attacks, and while they stung him a few more times, he shot at least six or seven of the helicopters and jets out of the air. The ones behind him stopped firing for some reason; maybe they didn't want to accidentally hit the other robots.
Sentinel-3 charged toward the "restaurant" set. Once he was through the swarm, he turned around, fired both guns until they were empty, and then dove behind a table. Wooden splinters started flying all around him. Toys were trying to kill him, and he couldn't help but laugh. As he crawled, reloading, he remembered one of his previous handler's speeches. "Absurdity can be lethal." He'd been shown footage of people like Mole Man, Paste-Pot Pete, and Red Ghost and his Super-Apes. Without any context, they looked ridiculous. But when you saw them in action, and realized how dangerous they were, it was truly scary, because they were chaos and insanity personified. It was like watching reality be torn to pieces right before your eyes.
'Don't look at them and say, oh, they're too ridiculous to be a threat,' his old handler had said. 'Normal threats are obvious, and we understand them. It's the so-called 'ridiculous' ones you have to watch out for, because they seem harmless at first, and they're too new and crazy for anyone to figure out. The things that couldn't possibly happen, the lies that no one would ever be dumb enough to believe. Look at the times we're living in. Twenty years ago, the idea of using tiny little atoms to create a doomsday weapon would have seemed 'ridiculous,' right? These super-villains are just the next logical step. When you first hear about robotic tentacles and electromagnetic wings, they sound absurd...but I'm sure that people thought the same thing about tanks and chemical weapons.'
Sentinel-3 was firing at floor-level, now, trying to hit the tanks that were on the other side of the tables...but "atomic rays" triggered something. He'd forgotten all about the guards' blasters. Sentinel-3 shouldn't have been using his own weapons; he should have taken the guards' science-fiction-looking ones. Crazy guns to fight a crazy enemy.
He'd been staying low, using the tables and chairs as cover. But he was starting to run out of ammo, and the toys were pursuing him, so he needed to move, anyway. Sentinel-3 ran backwards, firing, and heading for the "courtroom." He once again ducked behind the judge's bench, using it as a shield. (Sentinel-3 would have given anything for a real shield, right now, but the General apparently didn't believe in using them, because he hadn't seen any lying around.) The toys were spreading out, forming multiple "pincers" that would cut him off and surround him. But this set was closest to the storage room...
Sentinel-3 made a break for it, emptying his two current guns and darting behind the jury box. From there, he had a straight line to the corridor, and he ran flat-out, escaping the set just as they were tightening the noose. The guards were still tied up in the storage room, and the guns were right where he'd left them. As he grabbed them, he could hear the little vehicles approaching, and the room only had that one door. He'd known that he was cornering himself...but he was counting on the weapons to get him out of it. Each blaster had a dial on the side. Sentinel-3 only had time to mess with one of them-he turned the dial to the max, stuck the gun around the corner, and started firing.
It was his first time firing a beam weapon. The thing wasn't as loud as a regular gun, but it had a stronger kick, at least on this setting. He alternated between firing high (for the jets and helicopters) and firing low (for the tanks). Outside, the corridor was bathed in blue and green flashes. The toys were shooting at him, of course, but he'd stepped behind the wall next to the doorway. Only his gun-holding arm was exposed, and he was protected by the wall. Their attacks either hit the wall or went flying past him and hit the now-empty crates.
Sentinel-3 had heard metal groan and shriek, before, but he discovered what it sounded like when it was immediately shredded to pieces. The toys were being eaten alive by his blaster. Then, after just seven shots (he'd been taught to always count), it seemed to run out of power. Sentinel-3 cursed. He quickly dropped that blaster, raised the other one (its dial had been left on a more sensible medium setting), and repeated what he'd been doing before, firing around the corner. They might have been weaker beams, but he could still hear them demolishing the toys. At least something was going right. When he hit the seven-shot mark, he held his breath, but the blaster kept firing. The maximum setting must have been extremely draining.
He risked a quick peek into the corridor: he'd taken out most of the toys, thank god. And, of the ones that were still operational, about half of them had taken major damage. Sentinel-3 pulled out his last fully-loaded gun and charged into the corridor, firing both it and his blaster. Without numbers on their side, the toys weren't as formidable, and he managed to make it past them, getting back into the "courtroom." The judge's bench was pretty much demolished, but he crouched behind the witness stand. When the toys pursued him, they were slower than they'd been before, and they no longer had the numbers necessary to surround him. He held his ground and picked them off two at a time.
Only a few of them were left, now. But Sentinel-3 knew that it wouldn't be that easy. He wasn't surprised to see a fresh group of guards coming up the stairs, blasters drawn, but he was relieved. It felt good to be fighting human beings, again.
Sentinel-3 threw his last regular gun at one of the helicopters-he was out of ballistic ammo-and he squeezed off a few more beams, trying to take out the remaining toys. He didn't see any in the air, but a few tanks could be creeping around. Sentinel-3 turned his attention to the guards. They were shooting at him, now, and he ran straight at them, returning the favor. There were six of them; he put down two and clipped a third as he charged at them. The beams burned them, but they didn't seem to be lethal on this setting. They must have been painful, though, because the seriously-wounded guards writhed and screamed.
As the remaining guards kept missing, and he kept getting closer, their eyes started to widen. He'd seen that reaction before, and he was sure that he'd see it again. Four guards were left. Sentinel-3 leapt at Guard #1, kicking him in the nose, and then elbowing him in the forehead. He casually shot Guard #2. Guard #3 got a kick in the kneecap, and it threw off his aim, causing him to accidentally shoot Guard #4. Sentinel-3 floored Guard #3 with an old-fashioned punch to the jaw. Guard #1, who was staggering around and bleeding, received a kick in the side of the head, a quick succession of punches to the ribs, and a green beam in the shoulder.
Sentinel-3 spun, making sure that there weren't any more guards around. He didn't see any. So, he dropped his blaster and grabbed four off of them-two in his jacket pockets, two in his hands. In seconds, more of the General's men were coming up the stairs, yelling and pointing at him. Their uniforms were slightly different; they seemed like higher-ranking soldiers, not just guards.
They're all coming from the next level down...that's probably where my target is.
Sentinel-3 was outnumbered, and trapped in an enemy base, but he felt better than he had in years. Daredevil had knocked the rust off of him, reminding him of what he really needed to be. He was dealing with impossible people and impossible weapons, and sneaking around was no longer an option, he'd have to fight his way through a small army of henchmen. It was perfect. Sentinel-3 wanted to be Captain America, and he couldn't think of a better job interview than this.