New York Iron Hall
General Falcon Helfitta looked out the window as he listened to the voice on the other end. He tensed his neck and sharply inhaled “ENOUGH! Just stop! You will do as I tell you Sonia, do you understand me?...DO YOU? YOU ANSWER TO ME, NOT THE OTHER WAY AROUND! GET IT HERE NOW!”
He threw the phone at the glass, cracking it and shattering the phone to pieces. Falcon stuck a lolly under his tongue as he calmed down.
“They’re illegal.” The voice was low, almost a growl.
“Hello John.” Falcon turned to see his former trainer from his days in the European Assassination Division standing in the doorway “Forgot how to knock?”
John shrugged as he lit up a cigarette “Humans knock. What do you want?”
The General stared him deep in the eyes “You’re going to help me kill the Supreme Commander”
John nodded in approval “Bout time”
“Unfortunately, it is just a ploy to lull our enemies into a sense of security. If this was serious talk, both of us would be dead for contemplating it, let alone putting it into action.”
“That’s why I got implants,” John tapped his temple “Anti-TP ceramic plates. Prevents people getting into my head. Better than…” He pointed at the wrapper in Falcon’s hands “Suit yourself though”
Falcon eyed the Asgardian wolf-god in human form carefully “Which is part of the reason I need you for this.”
“What are you up to Falcon?” asked John.
“As I said, you’re going to help me kill the Supreme Commander”
**
“Stevenson!”
The head of Ferrum stopped mid-step on the steps of the hover-copter that was to take him back to his labs in Brooklyn Heights. Falcon approached the big man. He was quite an impressive figure; six feet seven inches tall, chiselled jaw, perfect bleach blonde flat top, piercing eyes and that scar.
“What can I do for you General?”
“How would you like to run the empire?”
Dolph Stevenson stepped down, towering over the general “What?”
“If we go ahead will my stratagem someone needs to step up to take the reins”
“And you want me?” Dolph replied suspiciously.
“We’ll have to do something about your face, of course. Can’t have a jigsaw puzzle addressing the masses.” Falcon watched the scientist tense at the mention of his scarring and the backhanded mention of his nickname to his face.
“Why not you?”
“I’m a general, I lead men into battle,” said Falcon “Politics and diplomacy are not my strong suit. You run Ferrum. Ferrum is all about politics. Or, I could ask Desmond Fisk…”
Dolph snorted “That starking rat! Don’t you dare! Somehow he got a reprieve by the Chairman and is back hunting Spider-Man for starks sake!”
“Think it over,” said Falcon as he threw up a salute “Sir”
Dolph nodded in approval, the idea of being saluted sat well with him “I shall general”
Falcon watched Dolph board and fly off across the city. Falcon popped another lolly in his mouth and smiled. His holo-pad buzzed with an incoming call from Cedar Rapids. Falcon stroked his moustache and tossed the holo-pad off the roof. He was enjoying wasting Iron Army property.
**
Scott Summers looked at his phone, confused as he was surrounded by Hunter units. His eyes bubbled with blue energy, this was his last stand.
“In the name of th…”
“Shut up!” snarled Scott as he unleased he eyebeams at the Hunter. His power was a blend of plasma and force and it made short work of the Hunter as he’d helped designed parts of the newer suits knowing exactly where to fire. But they had numbers and excellent weaponry, weaponry he’d also help design and refine. The irony wasn’t lost on him. A volley of darts hit his chest as he dove out of the way of the electro-net. He fired another blast but was enveloped in a cloud of chlorine gas followed by a peppering by narco paint pellets.
Scott shook his head and fired another blast, ripping the arm off another Hunter but the toxins and the gas were hampering him. A burst of napalm hit him in the back making him scream.
“GETAWAYFROMMYDAD!” screamed Flatfoot as he arrived on the scene like a violent tornado of fists and feet.
“I told you…”
“Just shut up and let me sav…” James Summers words stopped as an electro tendril wrapped tight around his neck and pulsed. Flatfoot’s face went as purple as his costume as he choked in the vicelike grip around his throat.
“JAMES!” Scott screamed and opened his eyes wide but his head got smashed upwards, the blue energy blowing the roof off his home.
“Do you need a personal invitation?” screamed Master Sergeant Natalee Toomes* across her comms as she kicked him in the stomach and onto his back whilst pulling the tendril tighter around Flatfoot’s neck. “KILL HIM! NOW!”
The remaining Hunters fired upon Scott Summers with an array of devastating weaponry.
**
Natalee kicked Scott’s carcass, eyeing it suspiciously. She’d dealt with things like this before, you think they’re dead and boom, they jump up and stark you sideways! She drew her sidearm and pumped four more bullets into his chest for good measure. She fired two other shots into Flatfoot.
“Ma’am” a Hunter held out a holo-phone.
“Who is it?”
The Hunter paused “It’s not for you ma’am, the last call made by Summers to, well…”
Natalee grabbed the phone and looked: Helfitta. Not a common name by any means. And she only knew of one.
“Who are you?”
“Barnes, Jackson Barnes* ma’am”
“Who else knows about this?”
“Just you and me ma’am”
Natalee pocketed the phone “You’re an Iron Pig aren’t you?”
“Hoo-rah ma’am! Formerly of Pennsylvania Iron Pigs before my transfer into the Hunter division”
“You mention this, infer about it, flat out tell someone other than me,” Natalee pointed to Scott Summers lying on the ground “I’ll do that to you, and that will just be the starking start of! Do you understand me Barnes?”
**
To be continued…
NOTES:
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