Celluloid Heroes
Part 3.
Reed Richards woke up to the sound of sirens blaring.
Reed was lying on the cold stone floor. He felt weak and weary. The blood oozed from a shallow cut on his forehead. Something kept nagging him at the edge of his consciousness. Why I'm holding the remote control and why it's important?
The emergency power kicked in and the lab was bathed in a dull red glow. Shaking his head to clear the cobwebs, Reed finally took stock of the situation.
None of this would have happened if not for Ben Grimm being a mother hen.
Richards liked Ben like a brother but the big man failed to understand what it's like to be a genius when he insisted on a tropical vacation. Reed was sunbathing on the beach drinking cocktails… and felt his brain shriveling like a prune from disuse. The only consolation was a couple of formulas written on a napkin when Ben was distracted.
The equations, beautiful in their simplicity, led to the series of experiments he planned to start once he's back to New York. Usually he'll never begin the new experiments without Ben Grimm providing assistance. But his oldest friend was visiting the sick aunt, and Reed was getting impatient. He triple-checked the safety precautions and decided it's enough.
If the experiments will be successful, I can put an end to all the speculations about dimensional traveling.
He didn't count on the portal to nothingness forming in the middle of the lab. Reed was flipping the remote frantically to turn off the machinery. It wasn't working. The portal started to emit an unhealthily glow and collapsed upon itself. Richards was thrown against the wall and briefly lost consciousness.
He glanced around the lab still clutching the useless remote control in his hand. He noticed the thick heavy smoke layer forming under the ceiling.
Uh-oh...looks like Ben's mockery will be the least of my troubles. I must do something to avoid death by smoke inhalation.
Reed Richard was looking for the emergency exit when the reinforced glass window closest to him shattered inward. The masked man in in red and blue suit jumped inside. He looked around and grabbed the startled scientist.
"Let's get out of here!"
An explosion caught them off guard when they were trying to leave through the broken window. The wave of hot air hit them like a sledgehammer, and the masked man's grip on the wall slipped.
Reed Richards saw the ground approaching faster than he would prefer. He absently wondered whether the costumed hero can survive the impact; he knew he won't be that lucky.
I'm not ready to die...!
Suddenly they were engulfed in a pale silver glow as they disappeared in thin air. A split second later they materialized on the ground floor elevator lobby.
Reed Richards felt light-headedness and disorientation. He rose unsteadily to his feet, struggling with the nausea.
The scientist croaked, "Whoever your name is... thank you! Your teleportation saved us. I really thought I was a goner."
The masked man stopped brushing away the shards of glass and raised his gloved hand in protest, "Hang on, Doc, I don't mind being praised for something I actually did. But I happen to know that the teleportation isn't in my bag of tricks. So I'm as surprised as you are."
The scientist and the superhero stared at each other incredulously.
In their confusion they didn't notice Peter Parker, hiding behind the support column, with his trusty old camera armed and ready.
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"...our channel was able to obtain exclusive footage of the altercation."
The security footage showed the man dressed up as Baron Zemo, mask included. As he was walking past the black van with toned windows, he was assaulted by a group of burly men.
The thug trying to grab him from behind got the wind knocked out of him with a quick jab to the solar plexus. "Zemo" graciously dodged the attempt to hit him with a two-by-four and responded with a kick to the groin. The bandit collapsed. The remaining thugs tried to rush him all at once; they were even less successful. "Zemo" knocked them to the ground in a flurry of punches.
The news anchor added, "Detective Crowley is unavailable for comment."
Melvin Potter and J. Jonah Jameson had matching grins on their faces.
"Crowley will have kittens when he sees it."
Melvin said with a lack of sincerity in his voice, "Sorry, Detective, we tried to contain it, we really tried, but somebody beat us to the last copy. When we learned about the leak, it was too late."
Archibald Crowley, the detective assigned to the kidnapping case, looked like he spent too much time consuming donuts instead of chasing leads. He quickly got on the bad side of pretty much everybody with his tactless questions.
The news anchor announced the latest news, "The anonymous source recognized two of the kidnappers. They are known for their ties to a local Neo-Nazi group."
Jameson and Melvin Potter exchanged the worried glances, no longer in the mood to joke around.
"So much for a simple kidnapping case," the actor made quote marks in the air.
"That lazy tub of lard will deny anything if it means less work for him," Jameson snorted as he lit up a cigar, "Now my one million dollar question is: what if the 'accidents' with your previous stunt doubles weren't as accidental as we thought? Mel, can you think of any particular reason for Neo-Nazis to go after you?"
"I got some hate mail after me talking the part of Baron Zemo became a public knowledge but that's all."
Jameson nodded sagely. Hate mail is an occupational hazard in their line of work.
"Remind me again why I agreed to sign the contract," Melvin added with mirth. "Ah yes, I still owe you."
"And don't you forget it."
The actor still remembered his first movie, the cringe-worthy post-apocalyptic flick. He played the minor role of underground fighter who used circular saw of all things as a weapon.
I could get stuck playing in B-rated trash if not for Jameson offering me a role.
"JJ, what are you going to do?"
"Right now? I can't do much. I already have the best security the money can buy. Other than that... As long as Crowley insists on burying his head in the sand, my hands are tied..."
Melvin interrupted Jameson with an impish twinkle in his eyes, "Hey, you have a real-life Avenger on payroll, so why not take an advantage of it? Let's warn him about the Neo-Nazis and see if Wonder Man is as wondrous as he claims."
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Iron Fist made a sweep with his staff, knocking Nico Minoru off her feet. He made a step back, allowing her to get up. The witch counterattacked, but her lunge was blocked. Iron Fist pushed his advantage and Nico was sent out of the circle. He stopped the spar and they bowed to each other.
"That's enough for today."
Nico got up, rubbing the new bruise forming on her left thigh.
Iron Fist offered her martial arts lessons when Nico realized she can't use her free time to practice spellcasting. She remembered the advice given by Doctor Strange when she landed in a similar situation. Young Avengers were tracking Mesmero, and the mind-bender landed a mental hit on her before Wiccan subdued the villain. "You must rest and regain your inner balance before you can use magic safely again."
Iron Fist was a harsh taskmaster; his lessons were hard and quite painful. He was slowly building her endurance by ordering to stand in battle stance with a sandbag tied to the staff until her arms start shaking and she can't hold it anymore. He was teaching her to dodge by throwing the blunted knives at her. He was correcting her stances with quick strikes of his bo staff. But Nico won't trade him for any of her previous instructors; they simply can't measure up.
Patriot spent too much time torturing her with the endless lectures about responsibility and the over-reliance on magic. One day Nico lost her temper and blew up at him, pointing out at the hypocrisy of his words. "Who are you to lecture me about the responsibility and showing restraint? You used to inject yourself with Mutant Growth Hormone!" The lectures stopped; the lessons stopped too. Kate Bishop took over her training, but the female Hawkeye had a bad habit of illustrating her points by using the obscure Kung-Fu movies as a reference. Nico considered asking Talon for tutoring, but she changed her mind after watching the insanity Laura Kinney called 'light morning workout.'
Iron Fist wasn't just a supreme martial artist; he turned out to be a pretty good instructor. He easily spotted the gaps in her defenses and the flaws in her attacks.
And his training served a double purpose, making the young witch exhausted to the point of blissful numbness, which was perfect to access the imbalance in her magical core.
She rarely saw their third companion; Flash Thompson spent a lot of time on the streets. He diligently reported on his latest heroic deeds. Nico was surprised Flash wasn't bragging about saving Reed Richards; she only learned about it from the headline in Daily Bugle.
When Iron Fist confronted him about the omission, the wall-crawler blazed with sudden anger, "Because they got things completely backwards," he picked up the newspaper and read the headline with exaggerated solemnity, "The unknown hero saves the famous physicist from the explosion." C'mon, I saved him? He saved himself!"
Iron Fist stopped his complaints by reminded that creating a favorable image of Captain Spider was a part of the assignment.
"If you meet Avengers and they ask about that episode, tell them the truth. Otherwise you should respect the wishes of Dr. Richards. If he doesn't want to step forward and reveal his new powers to the public, it's his choice."
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Rhino stopped wrecking the armored van when the pebble smacked into his temple. Rhino put down the van and slowly turned around to look at the suicidal moron who dared to interrupt his fun. He growled when he saw an athletic man in a red and blue costume.
"You are the new guy, Spider-Freak or somethin'?"
While Flash Thompson enjoyed when he was recognized, he preferred his name not to be mangled.
"The name's Captain Spider. Don't wear it out. And what are you supposed to be? A circus freak show rejected your application?"
Rhino let out a loud roar and charged forward, like his namesake. Flash anticipated the attack and dodged the horn, wincing when the gray monster rammed into a pickup truck, making a Rhino-shaped dent in the metal. Captain Spider gave himself a big pat on the back when he saw the pain in dark beady eyes.
After the third failed attack and two more wrecked cars, the wall-crawler decided it's time to change tactics.
Captain Spider climbed a street light and jumped, landing on Rhino head. He grabbed the horn to stop the villain from shaking him off.
"Hi-Yo, Silver!"
Flash wrapped his legs around Rhino's neck and started to choke him. He wasn't bothering to hold back; a thick gray skin of his adversary was made to withstand the extreme damage. It was the classic case of the unstoppable force meeting the immovable object. Twice Rhino almost managed to shake off the assailant, but in the end the man with the proportional strength of a spider had won.
Rhino dropped on the pavement like a fallen tree. Captain Spider somersaulted in the air to avoid being crushed… and noticed he wasn't alone. A muscular man in a darker version of Captain America's outfit crouched at the ready, with the shield edge aimed at the downed Rhino. A very cute masked blonde with the whip made of pure light covered Captain America wannabe from behind.
Flash grunted, "Took you... long enough to get here."
"I wanted to see how you handle him, son. If I intervened every time a rookie hero got himself in a spot of trouble, you wouldn't learn anything."
U.S. Agent, Flash finally recognized the American super soldier.
"Did I pass the test?"
"Too messy for my liking, but not bad for a rookie," U.S. Agent put handcuffs on the unconscious villain, "Whiplash, call the Damage Control."
The blonde nodded, "Already done, Sir."
"Captain Spider, right?" after an affirmative nod from Flash Thompson, pleased to hear his nickname spelled correctly, U.S. Agent asked, "How do you feel about a free tour of the Avengers Mansion?"
Hell yeah!