Master's of Evil #1 - Introduction to Being Bad
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The ground shook as a fuel tanker emblazoned with the eagle logo of SHIELD flew across the courtyard and exploded on the tarmac. All around the private airfield agents ran up and down occasionally firing to the west as more flying projectiles were launched down wind from the thrower, a massive man clad in green armour; a pair of metallic jaws extended from his helmet as he walked forward.
“Eagle Actual we have a confirmed super criminal on site and engaging personnel.” The commander on the ground called out to the staff positioned in the air traffic control tower.
“We read you Eagle 2.1.” A woman replied as she looked at the screen and located the speaker on the IFF map spread out before her. “Scrambling sniper cover ASAP.” She added before flicking her blonde hair out of her eyes and turning to face the gaunt green skinned figure standing behind her, a ballistic scope drilled into his features. “Terminate their leadership.” She hissed before turning to face the east of the airstrip and the pair of armoured transports steaming towards the tower. “Beta Team you have armoured units moving in.” She stated as the crack of a sniper rifle sounded and the ground commander slumped to the floor, a bullet hole drilled through his head.
“We're on it.” A voice announced as down on the floor a man dressed in red poked his head out of a trench line and threw a pair of sticky mines onto the APCs, the parasitic projectiles counting down rapidly to zero before exploding. Where once two armoured vehicles and their crews had been now there was simply two massive piles of dust with no way to distinguish what had been a man from what used to be a machine. “Head up Alpha we have a helicopter gunship incoming, missiles locking onto the tower.”
“Thanks for the sit-rep Beta, scrambling counter measures now.” The woman in the tower responded as a streak of light shot down from the heavens, smashed through the helicopter and landed on the tarmac so hard it created an impact crater over a meter wide. As the dust and light settled the figure moved and revealed itself to be a spacesuit with a gleaming orb of light inside. Looking around it locked onto the figure in green before relaxing as the last SHIELD agents were mown down.
“Omega Unit we are clear. All hostiles neutralised.” The woman hissed as she and the sniper sprung off of the tower to land next to the two super criminals on the ground. “Did you get what we came for?”
“In a way.” An English accented voice answered as a man in leather dragged a struggling shield agent out of the underground hanger. “Talk like we paid you to; tell us what MACE is and where it’s based.”
“Ha rhyme.” The man in red snorted. The agents shook his head before handing the man in leather a scrap of paper.
“Thank you for your cooperation.” The man in leather stated before breaking the agent’s neck. “Let’s regroup before SHIELD send emergency responders here.” He ordered as all six figures disappeared in a flash of light leaving nothing behind but an airstrip now only inhabited by the dead. For a second there was no change and then suddenly the image went black as the man in a full length hazmat suit ejected the DVD from the laptop. “So what’s your answer?” He asked the figure standing on a wooden dais in the shadow while he tied a rope to the banister.
“I don't watch a lot of TV Mr Deangelo but this show is just up my alley. Tell me who are the characters and why is this important to me?” The man clutching the rope asked.
“They're the Masters of Evil; Moonstone, Zaran the Weapons Master, Gauntlet, Chemistro, Stag Beetle and Oort the Living Comet. Big names over on the west coast apparently.” Deangelo explained. “And to answer the second question…well you know the contract you signed with Typhoon Recruitment and Management; we sold it to the Masters of Evil.”
“You did what!?” The man with the rope hissed. “Without my consent!!”
“It’s just good business,” Deangelo stated as he handed the man a sealed envelope. “Plane tickets, passport and instructions. The Masters want you on the first plane out to Tacoma. Trust me the fee you'll receive is worth the slight upset this moment has caused.”
“Perhaps you're right,” The man with the ropes sighed as he picked an item up off the floor, “and I’m afraid that I demand another kind of fee.” He added coldly before throwing the item at Deangelo causing him to collapse onto the floor, a pitchfork embedded in his chest. Emerging from the shadows the man revealed his contorted and scarred face to the dying agent “Now if you excuse me I have a plane to catch.”
**
The Korral Security Solutions Gulfstream Jet was built for comfort, barely even shuddering as it hit the turbulence much to the relief of the six passengers. The whole atmosphere smelled of affluence and Ebenezer Laughton thought back to his own flat back in Jersey City. No doubt the police would find Deangelo and the call girl he'd picked off the street but if his current knowledge was right there would be nobody who could touch him when he got inside the Seattle Quarantine Zone.
“So what’s your deal?” A hulking mountain of a man dressed in a purple hood and green armour asked as he cradled a five foot long axe.
“Surely you've heard of the sinister Scarecrow.” Ebenezer hissed as he stroked his pitchfork menacingly.
“Have you heard of me?” The giant asked. Ebenezer shook his head. “I rest my point. Still I like to know my team, figure out how we can work together to overcome the odds. My name is Cleavon Twain but in the business I’m called Vassal.” He announced.
”Cleavon Twain?” A woman dressed in a black and yellow body suit snorted. “So what? Did you’re parents hate you or something? I know mine did; my father is Electro and you can call me Aftershock: you’re superior.”
“Wow you got your father’s arrogance.” A man dressed in steel armour over a blue jumpsuit accented with a white lightning bolt on the chest stated snidely. “My name is Wirehead. If you can imagine it I can bring it into this world.”
“Are you a mutant?” A short woman with grey skin, massive bat like wings and demonic horns asked. “My name is Gargouille, I'm tougher and faster then I look.”
“And that leaves the last of our number.” Ebenezer hissed. “I know the Will O Wisp, a pathetic waste of space with lame light based powers. He was trying to be a hero but fell of the ladder.”
“Typhoon sold my contract.” Will O Wisp sighed. “They said if I helped the Masters of Evil they would release my contract to me and never call me again.”
“Aw is the little pixie crying because of the mean people.” Aftershock cooed. “Grow a pair you coward, life is tough get on with it.” The plane shaking as she finished her rant.
“Did you feel that?” Gargouille asked as twin streaks of light spun around the plane before phasing through the fuselage and solidifying into the feminine form of Moonstone flanked by Oort the Living Comet.
“So you're the candidates Typhoon sent me?” Moonstone purred as Oort flexed his suit’s fingers. “Time to weed out the weak members of the herd.” She added as photonic hands formed outside the plane and ripped the wings off. “Those who survive the crash come find us.” She hissed as she and Oort phased out the plane’s walls and streaked off into the sky. “We'll be waiting for you.”
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