Marvel Iron Age: Lady Deathstrike # 9
Author’s Note: Rated M for the next foreseeable chapters. Enjoy!
San Francisco Iron Hall,
General Ahern’s office:
The General sat in his office with a glass of whiskey. He swirled the liquid around, staring at his reflection. “You know who I just got off the comm with?” He said, his voice sounding like ground gravel.
He didn’t wait for a reply. “The Supreme Commander heard an interesting rumor. The plans for a device, a very dangerous device were stolen. Plans you were to make sure were destroyed.” The General glanced upwards from his glass and stared long and hard at a blond female officer.
He looked back at his glass and swallowed the contents. He slammed the empty glass on the table and looked hard at the officer. “I only drink when he calls me. I never know when my head will explode right after so,” The general gestured at the glass, to the bottle across the desk and looked at her. “Lieutenant Trask do you mind?”
Lieutenant Trask had survived her encounter with Ngumi, after being operated on General Ahern had her brought directly to the Iron Hall. Her body ached, and she felt cold. She nodded at the General,”No, sir.” She leaned out of her seat, one hand clutching the sight of her stab wound while the other hand reached for the bottle.
“Thank you.” Said Ahern as he slid her his glass.
Trask poured the whiskey into the glass, her unsteady hand spilling a great deal around the desk before filling the glass. “I understand you tried to reclaim it? And lost it again?”
Trask said nothing as she set the bottle down and picked up the glass. Her hand shook and the expression on her face was one of pain. “Yes.”
The general watched her struggle to bring the glass to her with a blank face. “Now plans for this device are in the hands of a known terrorist living in my city? One you brought with you to this auction? An auction full of criminals with who knows how much money invested in all this?”
Trask’s grip lessened and the glass fell, pouring whiskey all over the general’s desk. “You sure know how to make a mess don’t you Lieutenant? Do you think Supreme Commander was happy to hear about this mess?”
Trask sat down in the chair, “No, sir— I—“
“Do you know what he said to me?” The general interrupted. “He said to make an example of you. I will.”
Trask’s eyes grew wide and her breathing shorted into quick wisps. “This will be and exercise in mercy. You are the only one with any real insight into this…What was her name?”
“Ngumi Takada.” Trask answered. “She is an Agent of S.H.I.E.L.D.”
The general snorted. “I looked into that. According to my counterpart in New Latveria— they have a Major Takada listed as AWOL. “
Trask broke eye contact and stared at the floor. “I didn’t—“
“I don’t care!” The general shouted. “I don’t care about whatever link you seem to have to this woman or that against my better judgment I’m allowing you to resume active duty! “
“Just get me results Lieutenant Trask! I want this woman found!” Ahern barked. “Do you get me, soldier?”
Carol Danver’s sat in the throne room uncomfortable on the throne as another general feed her another generic report. The truth being besides the Wide-Awake disaster and the invasion by Thanos, the country was in a state of repair. They are more vulnerable than ever, so like it or not she sat through it. “We recently received word from a General Ahern of the Iron Army, San Francisco Hall, my Queen.”
“Drop the Queen stuff, which is an order.” Carol sighed. The General swallowed hard and struggled with what to say next. “Whatever. What did this Ahern have to say?”
“Information on a Major Ngumi Takada listed as absent without leave after the Wide-Awake invasion.”
Carol took a deep breath and curled her lips. Ngumi left her post months ago. The last anyone heard of her was as she was taking her leave months ago. “That’s odd. Did he state why?”
“No, ma’am. He cut out communication as soon as I told him. We picked up the call on an encrypted line. I don’t think he wanted anyone to know what he was doing.”
Carol stood up from her throne and said with authority, “I want you to get me Commander Holland on the line with me right away. There is more to this.”
“Whoa! You’re amazing Morgan!” Lindsay, the wife of the manager of the night club Ngumi sings at exclaimed. Both women were in bed with each other, naked and holding one another.
“I’m the best at what I do.” Ngumi said, answering to her alias. She ran the ends of her finger nails up Lindsay’s back, gazing at the red-head.
Lindsay giggled, “I’ll say!”
“I’d rather you not actually.” Ngumi whispered looking away from the woman. From where she was lying Ngumi could see outside. It was dark; the moon was big and seemed to demand her attention.
“Hey!” Ngumi’s attention was snatched away by a shuffle and her body shifting on to her back. “Pay attention to me!” Lindsay whined.
The red head took to kissing Ngumi’s mouth gently and moved slowly down her neck. Lindsay’s left hand glided up the inside of Ngumi’s thigh as she nibbled at her neck. “Stark me!” Ngumi gasped.
“I’m trying.” Lindsay whispered softly into Ngumi’s ear.
“The club closes soon. Your husband could catch us. Again.” Ngumi protested. Not that she cared. It’s been a week since the yacht mission. Her mind stuck on her blade passing through flesh, watching the red spill out of her opponent, and the look in their eyes as they pass on.
“God!” Ngumi moaned. Her mouth agape, her eyes wide and her grip so tight on the bed sheets her knuckles turned white. She looked at the moon. It was big. The only light in a sky full of darkness, her mind full of images the life draining out of countless opponents and pleasure it brought.
Lindsay giggled. She had found her way passed Ngumi’s breasts and settled between her legs. “You don’t have to call me that. “ She smiled at the woman above her. “Glad you like it.”
Ngumi said nothing and let the other woman continue. This exercise was a distraction; a hollow experience for her. Another need called to her tonight. A need that took many forms, a need that evaded her, a need that she has found so much satisfaction when she is the one dealing it.
Ngumi walked to her apartment. She stood outside, across the street. The lights were on and an empty car was parked out front. She had been standing there for about an hour. Two shadows could be seen walking around inside. “Two people. Burglars? What do you want to do Ngumi?”
She knew exactly what she wanted to do. She waited, waited for the feeling to peak until her hands shook and the sensation overwhelmed her. She walked across the street, not making a sound. She took the stairs to her floor. Tip-toed down the hall.
When she got to her door she had her back to the wall. The door had been smashed in and two voices could be heard on the other side. “You find it yet?”
“I think we ought to what wait for that bitch to show up. Make her tell us then.”
“Whatever man. I’m taking another look at this back room.”
Ngumi waited for the other voice to be all the way in the back before she crept in. The voices belonged to two men, one of whom had settled in the kitchen. Digging through the refrigerator. Ngumi crept in, making not even a sound. She picked up a steak knife lying on the counter. The man was bent over and hadn’t seen, Ngumi behind him.
Making a move fast, Ngumi put one hand on the burglar and buried the knife deep into the man’s neck, severing the vertebrae and coming out the other side. The body crashed into the refrigerator, Ngumi landed on his back.
“What the hell?” Shouted the other man; who Ngumi could hear running to the living room. Ngumi pulled a hand gun from the holster of the corpse under her. She raised it in the spot he would be standing in. The man turned the corner, all he heard were three shots and his body hit the wall behind him.
Ngumi stood up and tossed the gun away. She walked over to the man she had shot. She sat next to him and watched as blood started to pool around him. “I’m going to need you to hang on for just a little longer, friend.” She dug two fingers into a bullet wound in the man’s chest, and began twisting and turning.
“Ah! Stark!” He screamed. Blood bubbled from his mouth like red foam. He recoiled in pain and looked up at the woman. She was smiling.
“Give me a name and I will end it.” Ngumi said, thrusting her fingers deeper into the wound.
“Nobody!” He growled. “Mr.— Ah!“
Ngumi shoved her fingers inside the wound as deep as she could; causing the man to cry out. She said darkly, “I’m sure he did.”
To be continued