Continued from parts 1-3: http://www.comicvine.com/forums/fan-fic/8/marvel-iron-age-hawkeye-re-boot-1/688005/ http://www.comicvine.com/forums/fan-fic/8/marvel-iron-age-hawkeye-re-boot-2/688044/ http://www.comicvine.com/forums/fan-fic/8/marvel-iron-age-hawkeye-3/665234/ Enjoy!
Anatoly pointed at a rusty old street sign and took a deep breath as he bellowed “This is Sparta!
Anthony looked at the strange bearded New Latverian man, chuckling to himself “What?”
“Have you not seen ancient documentary where Spartans fought?” Anatoly ruffled his beard “America is not as sophisticate as New Latveria”
Anthony looked around at the desolate township, a veritable ghost town. “Okay I've got to head back!”
Anatoly grabbed his arm “Are you a stupid? You just escape death and you want to head back?”
“I’m still wearing my costume. My identical twin brother is killing people and everyone thinks it’s me! My entire life got blown up by some starker who couldn’t take a joke and to top it all off I’m in Jersey! I’ll probably get eaten by a krang or a mutant man-eating tree!”
“You are funny!” chuckled Anatoly “What is krang?”
“Big lizard thing that…” Anthony pointed at the krang ambling out of a ruined house, a moose in its jaws “That! That is a krang”
“It looks like ugly dog” stated Anatoly.
“Where there’s one, there’s always more” said Anthony “Being in a travelling circus you see them all the time and you don’t want to mess with them”
“You are in circus yes?”
“I’m the Amazing Hawkeye” Anthony struck a pose similar to what Anatoly had when they were in the back of the prison van.
“Ahh Hawkeye yes,” laughed Anatoly “I have never heard of you”
Anthony scowled at him as he nocked an arrow to cover their retreat from the krang as he saw another larger krang coming up the road behind them, drawn by the smell of blood.
“Oh stark me!” growled Anthony “C’mon!” He half-dragged Anatoly as they ran to a nearby house and his inside. They watched as the two krangs engaged in a ritualistic display of testosterone and anger as they fought over the moose carcass.
“Fascinating” said Anatoly glued to the window.
“Meh” said Anthony as he began to look around the house. Grass and weeds had grown through the floor, several generations of animals and spiders had made corners of the rooms their home, the roof was held on by sheer force of defiance seemingly. Anthony spotted a large white object, caked in dust and dirt.
“No starking way!” he brushed away some filth to reveal a silver name “A two hundred year old Worthington fridge.” Anthony looked up to the sky “Okay you and I don’t really talk, but I’ll pray more if there is beer in here. Allr faðir! Heyra minn bœn”
Anthony dramatically flung open the door to reveal a microcosm of mould and fungus, undisturbed for two centuries. The smell was like a punch in the face. Anthony dry wretched and slammed the fridge shut. Anatoly shot past him and out the back door.
“Where are you going?”
The sound answered Anthony’s question as the krang smashed through the wall and charged towards him. Anthony ran after the fleeing New Latverian escape artist.
New York City
Master Sergeant Natalee Toomes looked at the prison van driver on her screen “You are very lucky that you’re in Scranton! Why was Anthony Salazar not executed on the spot?”
“He was booked in on a traffic violation ma’am” came the sheepish reply
Natalee flipped the screen off “I wonder how we took over the world sometimes” She addressed her squad “Normally we’d be in hot pursuit but with the Supreme Commander’s directive we’re back to the Iron Hall to await further orders. If Salazar hits the city again, he’s ours but until then he’s Scranton Iron Hall’s problem”
Scranton Iron Hall
Major Billiam McHatfield reclined in his seat, feet on the desk. He earnestly thumped away at a data-pad.
“Oh die you silly pigs!”