The Liberators - Issue #2: Hunting Party
Orion Maximum Security Prison, Peloponnese, Greece
Agent Denisof walked into the interview room carrying the late Agent Farrell’s notes on his interview with the criminal known only as ‘the Face’. While Farrell had been green Denisof knew the job he had to do and what it would take to get it done. Sitting down opposite the cone he pulled out a pen and a can of air freshener before giving the room a quick spray to cover up the imaginary bad smell he always associated criminals with.
“This is Agent Denisof interviewing Prisoner #02737 AKA the Face about his involvement in the attempted coup in Costa Sangre on the 11th of October earlier this year.” Denisof stated for the records. “I have Farrell’s report before he was found killed in his home two days earlier and have dismissed them.”
“Farrell is dead?” The Face gasped. “I liked him he had a certain naiveté to him. It was quite refreshing really to find a sucker who believes what I tell him.”
“Well that ends now Mr Face.” Denisof barked clicking his pen impatiently. “Start from the beginning.”
“Ah my origin story again. Well I was a sunglasses model and was on set for a shoot in the Dominican Republic and…” He stopped as a tiny static shock crawled up his body. “But you didn't really want to know that did you?” He asked Denisof as the agent increased the speed of his pen clicking
“The beginning of the coup attempt!” Denisof said interrupting ‘The Face’. “We want to know why you took a flight from Atlantic City to London days before the first action you and your soldiers of fortune made. Who were you meeting and why?”
“A guy, the only guy who could help me pull this off. Super criminals don't work well with others but this guy; he’s like the Mister Rogers of super crime. Knows how to get a team working, if your up against unassailable odds then you want him at your side.” The Face answered before noticing Denisof click his pen at an even faster rate. “Oh you wanted a name? Sorry my lips are sealed.”
“You don’t want to talk fine then you can go back to your cell!” Denisof hissed rising from his chair before seeing the face smile behind him, a strange sight as covered lips rippled under the skin. “What are you smiling about freak?”
“I’ll tell you off the record.” The Face replied. Denisof nodded before double tapping his ear piece. Seconds later the two way mirror cleared as the technicians walked out and the cameras went offline. Resting his hand on his sidearm Denisof sat back down, nervously eyeing the restraints around the convicts hands and legs. “So you’re half way through murdering me. How do you feel?”
“What are you talking about?” Denisof spluttered as he stopped clicking the pen and gazed at the Face’s featureless skin.
“The spray was to liberally spread nano-detonators across the room and the electrical pinch I felt was them bonding to my skin. You will obviously go through decontamination before leaving and wash them off your skin but I won’t get that chance. The final trigger is a pen style switch, something you're concentrating on because if you get the activation wrong somebody dies.” The Face analysed. “How am I doing so far?”
“You're mad!!” Denisof snorted.
“Mad but not insane.” The Face answered. “Not a wife, no wedding ring, not a child either, maybe yes you have a lover, a male lover one kept hidden but not too hidden, The tell is that you smell of cologne, cheap and stinky to be precise, you can't wear it often because in the field a guard dog would sniff you out in a second.”
“How dare you accuse me of being gay!?” Denisof exploded.
“Overreaction to statement shows negative emotional stimulus with homosexuality. So I have the how, the when and the why but not the who.” The Face continued before taking a deep breath, although no sign showed he done such a thing. “Two men want me dead. Hmm Wolf would send you with a knife which means…ah yes of course nano-infusers are used by ‘el Hormiga Soldado’ the armed forces of Costa Sangre. So it’s an agent of the Black Prince who is holding your lover hostage.”
Denisof bowed his head and nodded. For a moment the Face felt pity for the man. “It was the Huntsman that I met in London.” He stated. “Shame you can't use that.”
**
15th September 2013, Ice Bar Hotel, Piccadilly Circus, London
“Hey stranger.” The woman dressed in a black bustier and a ruffle skirt that matched her ebony hair asked the gentleman dressed in a hunting jacket and jeans sitting at the private booth. “Buy a girl a drink.”
“I would but you're not a woman.” The man replied in a Queensland accent, a smile creeping across his face, his yellow eyes sparkling. “But I might make an exception for you bud.” He added as the woman ran a hand through his thick red curly hair.
“Such a gentleman Nathan.” The woman said as she sat on the chair opposite him. “So what is the Huntsman stalking tonight?”
“Man at the bar.” Nathan answered. “High Value Individual who angered somebody high up in the Predator’s Guild. So why are you here Face, surely not just to see me.”
“So why haven't you killed him yet?” The Face asked as she leaned forward. “I see eleven ways to covertly get the job done in less a minute.” She added as the waiter walked past and placed two shot glasses constructed from ice and filled with vodka on the table.
“There are fifteen actually.” Nathan corrected him. “It’s that business back home, ever since you and I brought the Southern Cross conspiracy to light I have been feeling like I could be more than an assassin.” The Face nodded, he remembered reluctantly helping the Huntsman investigate the third Southern Cross after he ripped open a bus full of school children and tried to toss it off the bridge. Nathan had seen some fearful symmetry between his own origin and the Cross’s actions.
Originally a point guard for the Cairns Taipans, the coach had used a degraded formula of the Southern Cross super soldier serum to enhance his player’s endurance and speed. It worked but the majority of the team mutated into feral monsters out on the court with only one player reaching the optimum result. Valiantly Nathan fought his team-mates and saved many lives that day but was repaid by the Australian Intelligence Service for his heroism by being arrested. It was a cover-up and later The Face, Huntsman and the second Southern Cross revealed that the Coach was a renegade agent of the AIS looking to create a new world order, and that what happened to Nathan and his team-mates was just the tip of the iceberg.
“I have an offer.” The Face told him. “Actually more of a partnership. I want to take Costa Sangre for myself. I’m tired of the cycle; going to jail, doing jobs for made men and getting my ass kicked by the newest hero on the block. But I need a team, I have names but they all said ‘Get Nathan Williams and then I’ll join.’ I could force them but you and I are the team.”
“You know who runs that country.” Nathan answered. “You remember back when we were in the Marauders with him, what he did to Ox Bow. He may have been a hero but what the Black Prince did was cruel and sadistic. If we fail then it'll be worse than being sent to the big house for the umpteenth time.”
“You said we.” The Face answered, a smile stretching across her features.
“Yeah I guess I did.” Nathan chuckled. “So when do we start?”
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