Circuit Ricardo Tomo, Valencia, Italy
Mentallo whistled as he moved through the crowds of Formula One fans, the sheer adrenaline they were feeling making him light headed and almost a bit giddy. Zemo had ordered him to find some quick cash that wouldn't attract attention and Mentallo had risen to the challenge. Taking Jackhammer, Silencer and a fair dose of Nightshade’s Hyper Adrenaline Solution to the track he had come up with a fool proof plan. Between the three of them they would make certain that; of the top eight racers the lowest ranked one would win the race. Any lower on the grid then that and the wager Mentallo had put down would be seen as suspicious.
“I’m in the Red Bull garage.” Silencer whispered as she strutted up to the racing crew wearing a tank top and mini skirt emblazoned with the team logo, her red hair streaked with a pair of pink bangs. “Okay boys drink up.” She stated seductively as the racers and pit crew took a glass each. “In ten laps they'll be exhausted.” She added as she trotted away.
“Bubelah.” Mentallo chirped as he walked into the garage for Ferrari. “Let’s see if this mental disguise works.” He added as the head mechanic came over.
“Excuse me miss.” He stated in accented English. “You can’t be here.”
“Oh I'm so sorry.” Mentallo replied as a big childish grin spread across his face. “You will fail to replace the parts and fuel in less than a minute when your racers come in!.” He commanded telepathically.
“Huh.” The mechanic grunted. “Uh sure.” He added. “Now please leave Miss.”
“Okay.” Mentallo replied as he strutted away, only dropping the disguise when he was out of sight. “Jackhammer how you doing?”
“I’m fine and in position.” Jackhammer replied as he carried a big TV camera on his shoulder. “Seems a shame to do this to such a brilliant piece of engineering.” He added before focusing the camera on the McLaren Cars and started up the device, a thin beam of electromagnetic interference beaming into the car’s computers. “One more and then we get Zemo’s money.” He added.
“Sssh.” Silencer hissed. “Don't mention that name in public. Now one quick flick…” She added as she lined up a shot on the Mercedes garage and ricocheted a pill off the pit wall and into the one of the cars. “That’s all seven, as long as our boy performs well we should get the cash we need.”
**
Catacombs under Rome, Italy
Baron Zemo watched as his men got to work on the equipment for the operation they were going to pull off. “So Zemo baby.” Mentallo’s voice announced. “Good news we got a whole load of Euros for you.”
“Good work all of you.” Zemo stated. “Return immediately, I have new assignments for you.” He added.
“Got ya.” Mentallo answered. “We'll be back soon.” Zemo nodded and left the small antechamber he was using as an office to inspect progress.
“Nightshade why is Cobra tied to that sarcophagus?” He asked as he spotted the chained villain writing in an attempt to free himself from his bonds. “And Cobra how come you haven't escaped yet?”
“I'm milking Cobra for a sample of venom, the toxicity is most potent.” Nightshade answered. “With the right genetic tweaks I plan to create a less lethal aerosolized version that will act as a biological knock out gas.”
”Why the chains?” Zemo asked.
“I tend to get aggressive when people touch my face.” Cobra stated. “And I figured Nightshade being ripped to shreds isn't on the agenda.”
“Not until later.” Zemo stated as he walked over to the Endotherm’s workbench. “Thomas what is the progress of the teleportation enhancement array?”
“The theory is mostly done, just waiting for Jackhammer to get back and actually build it.” Thomas answered. “Still there is one flaw in the design.”
“Oh and that is?” Zemo asked as he rested his hand on his holstered pistol.
“It requires an active teleporter to activate the boost function.” Thomas answered. “Something we don’t have.” As he finished there was a scratching sound on the reinforced stone door that caused everyone inside to stop working and stare at the slab of rock except Zemo who chuckled to himself under his mask,
“Better untie me Nightshade.” Cobra hissed. “Something wants in.”
“Yeah get ready.” Thomas added as he created a spear of ice with his armour, ready to fling the improvised weapon at the door. “Boss get out of the field of fire before you get hurt.”
“I doubt Benedetta means us any harm.” Zemo stated wryly. “Especially since I'm paying her to use her skills for me just as I am you.” He added before walking to the door and calling out. “You may enter.” Seconds later there was flash of darkness and a woman, her face veiled by shadow ten time darker than the recurved claws on her hand or the ebony leotard and boots she wore appeared. “This my friends is the Wink, a mutant able to teleport through the darkforce dimension.”
“Huh. Hi my name is Nightshade.” Nightshade announced as she walked over and reached out a hand in a gesture of friendship.
“You smell funny.” The Wink replied before walking away and sitting in the darkest corner of the room.
“Well I’ll leave you all to it.” Zemo stated. “My genius is required in other fields such as formulating our order of battle.” He added before stalking back to the antechamber.
“Do I smell funny?” Nightshade asked as she squirted a thick green venom into a test tube before untying Cobra.
“Not particularly.” Cobra answered. “But something isn't right. Thomas and I were talking yesterday about how something doesn't fit with what Zemo has told us.”
“Keep your voice down.” Thomas replied from his workbench before gesturing at the glowing pools of light that were the Wink’s eyes. “The plot thickens. If Zemo has enough to pay out 40 million to eight super criminals then why is he scamming a race track for funds. He said it was because his bank accounts are watched by SHIELD and the IMF but I think there is another reason.”
“Such as?” Cobra asked.
“He has no money.” Thomas answered. “He plans to get rich quick by ransoming world leaders. Then there was that comment he made in response to you being chained. I think after the jobs done he’s going to kill us. It wouldn't surprise me if he betrays us/”
”But we can't be sure.” Nightshade answered. “Look leave it with me, I think I know a way to find out. For now keep your tongues tied and go along with the plan. If Zemo is on the level we can't risk blowing our last chance at the big time.”
**
Maggia Provincial Headquarters, San Gimignano, Italy
The runner assigned to the communication centre in the Casa Nefaria really hated his job today. Not wasting any time he sprinted to the rooftop garden and stopped as he saw his boss reach the end of the pool and turn around underwater before heading back to the other end.
“Madame Nefaria.” He stuttered. “I have news of our winnings from Valencia.”
“How much did we make in the betting?” Nefaria asked as she reached the other end and climbed out of the pool, an imposing bodyguard handing her a towel which she draped over her shoulders.
“Almost n…nothing.” The runner answered, even though his boss was wearing nothing but a bikini she was still terrifying. “A syndicate took a large portion of the winnings.”
“Excuse me while I put my business face on.” Nefaria hissed as she reached down and picked up a brass mask and placed it over her face. “What syndicate?!” She snarled, her eyes boring through the runner.
“We identified three members as Silencer, Mentallo and Jackhammer. But Madame there may be more agents yet unseen.” The runner gulped. “But there is more. We isolated some audio and they…they appear to work for Baron Zemo.”
“Zemo? Zemo!” Masque screeched before running over to the runner and landing a kick in his chest. “That worm tries to steal from me?!” She added as the bodyguard handed her a set of chains. “No it can’t be, just a trick to ward suspicion away from their real handler.”
”They said Zemo I’m certain of it.” The runner wheezed as Madame Masque lowered herself into the pool and slipped the man’s hand through a loop of the chain before breaking it and releasing the weight to the bottom. “Send men to observe this syndicate.” She ordered her bodyguard as the runner was pulled under the surface to lie next to a complete human skeleton resting on the bottom of the pool. “I have a phone call to make.”
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