Black Sheep
There are rumors that in the darkest corners of every major city, exists a place where you can make arrangements with the kind of men whom you should never negotiate with; all it costs is a large sum of money and a small piece of your soul. These establishments go by many names but in Belfast, Northern Ireland, it is known as the Black Hound Tavern. Though you could never find this place on a map, it often lies between the corners of revenge and desperation. To an untrained eye it seems like any other pub, some festivities, a few pretty tourists on the weekends, the occasional football hooligans, but never any open obscenities. However, if you need to have an unspeakable action done to another person you merely need to ask the barkeep and it will be done…for the right price, of course. Each of “the regulars” that frequent the lounge area are some of the world’s best kidnappers, assassins, thieves, spies, smugglers, and debt collectors.
On this day a man entered the tavern; he had no interest in procuring services or selling his skills, which at the time made him an unusual case. He stood just under six feet tall and had jet black hair, a thick beard and green eyes. He also wore a dark green coat with a black hood behind its collar. None of the regulars would dare to speak or look upon his face, for they all knew who he was. His name was Kieran Cavanaugh but around here he was known as the Shepherd.
He approached the stool and briefly glanced at the young man across from him. “Where’s the barkeep?” asked the Sheppard.
“You’re looking at him” the boy answered, with a small hint of sarcasm. Kieran’s skepticism was not misplaced considering that the kid he was speaking to him barely looked old enough to drink.
“Not you—the old man—where’s Connors?” The Sheppard clarified.
“He’s about 6 feet under in one of those pine boxes down the hill; we buried him last Thursday.”
“Bollocks!”
“Aye, I’m afraid the old man is on permanent vacation, God rest his miserable soul.” The barkeep proclaimed as he imitated Catholic prayer signs with his hands across his chest. “Well, maybe I can help you. I’m his grandson, Lawrence Connors, but folks round here call me Law.”
Kieran quickly deduced that the text message that he received yesterday was meant to lure him to the pub under false pretenses. “So I take it you’re the one who messaged me then” said the Sheppard. He slowly reached for his revolver with one hand and focused pockets of energy in his free hand.
“Right you are again Mr. Cavanaugh. That was me” Lawrence replied whilst he pointed his thumb to chest. The proprietor smirked at the aged assassin. “I remember the old man going on about the big bad Shepherd, once I heard you were officially out of retirement I decided to find out what all of the fuss was about. Honestly it’s a bit of a letdown y’know; I was hoping you’d be more intimidating like you were in his stories but I guess no man should never meet his hero. We can resume your old business arrangement with the tavern but from now on I’m taking 40% of the contract earnings. Whatdaya say?”
Kieran sighed and walked away from the bench “Not interested, and don’t call me again.”
Lawrence grinded his teeth, he was never a spoiled child but he was still unfamiliar with being rejected. “Leaving so soon? But you didn’t hear the best part. I have my men tracking Maggie and Erin with just one call I could”-
Kieran spontaneously vanished and reappear with a hand press tightly around Law’s neck. A guard pulled out a shotgun and fired it at the Sheppard’s chest. With a quick flick of his hand, Kieran contained the blast within the shotgun and the weapon exploded. He then raised a palm and all of the patrons were instantly clung to the ceiling.
After clearing his throat he looked back into the dilated pupils of the young barkeep and said “Lawrence, please understand that your remaining existence in this world is a charity I bestow solely out of the respect I hold for departed ancestor. This is why I am going to give you the opportunity to present a single reason why I shouldn’t f**k*n kill you. I would like you to take some time and select your words with extreme caution, then speak. Understand?”
Lawrence hastily nodded and took a deep breath. “First, I just wanted to apologize for the disrespect that I’ve shown to you and me granddad. Secondly, I’d like to retract my comment regarding your lack of intimidation. Clearly, I was misspoken.” As he felt Kieran’s hand almost crush his larynx the young man squealed, “Finally, upon further recollection what I meant to say was that with one phone call I could have your family brought back to you.”
“How do I know you’re not lying to me?” Asked the Sheppard. Law’s face was now turning to a purplish blue color. Unable to speak he pointed to the photos hidden beneath the cash register. Kieran eyed the pictures closely and released them all. The boy curled up in a ball and gasped for air. “You don’t get over 15% on my contracts, I check in whenever I choose to check in and I don’t kill minors. We clear?”
“C-C-Clear!” He yelped.
“Well that settles that. Later boyo!” Kieran affirmed as he grabbed a bottle of whiskey and exited the bar.
Back in the CORE Base
After receiving treatment in Section 3, Dr. Scott Harlan examined the biometric readings that were recorded in his sparring session with Cavanaugh. “Interesting, very interesting.”
“Don’t you mean dangerous, very dangerous?” Nasiha snarled. She respected Harlan’s hunger for knowledge but abhorred the barbaric methods used to acquire the data.
“Can’t it be both?” Scott dismissed.
“How can you be so nonchalant about this? His last shot would have killed you if your shields hadn’t cushioned the blast!”
“But it didn’t and I’m still alive. Trust me Sap this isn’t the first time I’ve gambled my life on my research and it certainly won’t be the last. Let’s just try not to tell Cavanaugh about this yet”—
“Tell him what?” Charlie asked as he emerged into the room. He examined Scott’s wounds and smiled with pride. “Ouch! It looks like the kid had a bit more than you could handle.”
Dr. Harlan rolled his eyes, “He got lucky.”
“No, you got sloppy!” Brown lectured. “Now what did the scanners pick up?”
Harlan chuckled, “Oh you’re gonna love this.” He passed the laptop over to his senior agent.
For a moment Agent Brown tried to make sense of the graphs, then his eyes widened in disbelief. “Are you certain these levels are right?”
“I’m positive” Nasiha confirmed. “Additional testing might be more insightful, but all of the sensors were operable. Each blast that James fires varies in strength but his more powerful energy projections already surpass Captain Atom’s. If we can train him to master his powers he can become the DEO’s greatest weapon.”
“Right! Contact section 4 and have Dr. Battles prepare the gauntlets.” Brown ordered. “Harlan, is there anything else to add?”
“Well, we’ve also studied how the energy operates internally.” Harlan added. “I’ve never come across any material like this! Somehow, the ibithium fused to Cavanaugh’s cells can form calculations regarding the best way to help its host; it acts more like a parasite than a single metagene. Apex energy has many functions but operates in three different forms. In its standard form, ibithium bonds to each of the host’s cells and nerve endings, amplifying traits such as strength, speed, and durability to superhuman levels. The remaining traces found in the bloodstream contact other bodily materials to form a synthetic agent that heals the body and conserves energy. The final form occurs when charged particles of energy are released into the atmosphere. In James’ case energy becomes a volatile explosive, but this might differ with other hosts.”
“Have you gathered enough samples to replicate it?”
“Not yet,” Scott sighed, “these energy particles become extremely unstable after they leave their host. Once I see a few more of those cartridges I should be able to figure out how they extract it.”
Charlie nodded his head, “Well regroup at the Cube in 10 minutes.”
**
As he exited the medical wing, Brown saw James leaning on a rail down the corridor staring blankly into his hands. It was only until the senior agent was a few feet away that Cavanaugh detected his new mentor’s presence. “Everything alright James?”
The young man quickly shifted his hands to his pockets and turned to Charlie, “I’m fine! Shouldn’t you be more worried about Harlan?”
For a brief moment Brown recognized the item that James shoved into his pocket, but played along anyway. “He’ll manage, Scott’s a tough bastard but he’s about as good as men get. Bellamy says we keep him around for his brain but he’s really here because of his heart.”
James smiled, “Yeah, I’m starting to understand that now.”
Cavanaugh started to walk away but Brown knew that the real conversation couldn’t be dismissed so easily. “You know dog tags are supposed go around your neck, you should were them with pride.”
James stopped moving. Without turning his eyes he replied, “Lately I’ve been running a little low on pride.”
“You can’t keep blaming yourself for what happened. You did the best you could.” Brown appealed.
James looked back scornfully with a scowl. “Well my best wasn’t enough! If it was, my friends would still be alive.”
Charlie placed a hand on James’ shoulder. “We all have our limits kid, that’s the point of forming this team. None of us can defeat them alone, but together, we can persevere.”
Cavanaugh sighed, “I’ll wear them again one day…but it won’t be today” he said, shortly before walking downstairs.
**
The Cube
Harlan, Sapru, and Cavanaugh entered the squad room, each ignoring the large gap in the wall that James had blasted through earlier. They took their seats and noticed two new faces in attendance.
Charlie cleared his throat and began his team’s debriefing. “Please welcome your newest teammates, Junior Agents Elijah Carter and Mable Lowery. They have already been brought up to speed regarding the terms of our mission, so let’s continue.” Brown passed a dossier to each member of the squad while Nasiha uploaded a slideshow to the projector.
“Our files are still pretty light on Apex, but so far, we know that it is led by the Cambridge Twins, George and Richard Cambridge. Originally the two brothers were identical, but years of biotech experimentation has altered their appearance. Each member or suspected member will be assigned a codename. The older brother with the fangs and the salt and pepper hair is George, codename: Wolf; the younger brother with the platinum blonde hair and the feline pupils is Richard, codename: Lion. Together they run Cambridge Global, the world’s third largest conglomerate behind Lexcorp and Wayne Industries. In the last twenty years, CG has expanded into almost every profitable industry with little to no resistance. Vanishing competitors, unusually high quarters, favorable government support and barely any record losses suggest that they are either the perfect corporation or they’re fixing the odds.”
“Why isn’t the SEC investigating this?” Elijah asked.
“They have” Brown responded. “Cambridge Global has been investigated by the SEC and the FSA multiple times, none of the investigations ever made it to trial. The twins’ social status renders it hard to identify other members of APEX, but we have reason to believe that the entire Cambridge family is involved in illegal activities.”
James glanced through the slides before rising from his chair, “That’s him—the man in the suit!”
Nasiha expanded the image to focus the face. Charlie shifted back to James, “Aaron White, CEO of the White Rose Security firm and Richard Cambridge’s son-in-law. Odds are he is the enforcer of the group, we suspect that he leads the predators.”
“Predators?” Mable asked.
“A nickname we call them,” Nasiha clarified, “predator troops are the footsoldiers of Apex’s private army. They have access to ibithium which makes them the most elite units we know of.”
“Let me guess, you don’t have many files on them either. I’m starting to feel like one of those monkeys they use to set off land mines.” Lowery jested.
“We can always send you back to Belle Reve!” Agent Brown retorted.
Mable giggled. “Just forget what I said, surprises are fun! Shutting up now.”
Brown continued, “What we do have is one of the rifles used in the Afghanistan incident. It might be damaged but I have a contact in Flagship City who can help. We’ll rendezvous with the contact in Flagship City, once the manufacturer is identified we can begin to seize the weapons.
Meanwhile, in London
Cambridge Tower had flourished in the night as a private celebration commenced. An assortment of modern age nobility had assembled in the main hall, each exchanging drinks and anecdotes with one another. Off by the edge of the balcony, stood a beautiful woman that curled like a bent sunflower. She was Melissa Cambridge, the daughter of George Cambridge. Her eyes drifted out into the night sky as she exhaled in tedium. A candle from a nearby table flickered as an equally beautiful woman emerged from a stream of smoke.
“You know if you ever get bored with sulking, you can always jump. Uncle George says you’d still survive the fall.” Spoke the Redheaded woman.
Melissa turned her head around to greet her cousin. “Good evening Alice, it’s always a pleasure.” Both ladies embraced each other before resuming their dialogue. Besides the occasional gathering, the two rarely saw each other.
“I’m serious Lissy, if you keep pouting like that you’ll get wrinkles.”
“Maybe then you could finally be the pretty one.” Melissa teased.
“Let’s hope I have a little more grace when I get to be your age.” She hissed. “Now, where’s Flavien?” Alice inquired.
“He’s probably in his newest secretary, either that or plotting another move against our fathers. Cruelty and predictability are the only two certainties that all men provide.”
They both looked back into the main hall. “So you can feel it too? These problems aren’t going away, not without more bloodshed. I swear it’s just like the Pur”-
“Hush Alice, were not allowed to speak of that.”
“It cost us half of our members to keep the peace,” Alice whispered. “How many more must die to chase more power that our family doesn’t need?”
“I understand your concern, but now is not the time for that.” Melissa cautioned. “How’s Cece?”
“She’s do doing fine, she’s so smart--and brave too… but I’m afraid this isn’t a social visit. There’s something you should know, it involves James.”
Alice whispered into Melissa’s ear, a single tear rolled down her cheek as her expression froze. “I understand. Thank you for telling me this, Aaron as well.
“What are you going to do?”
“The only thing I can do, wait for an opportunity to present itself, then strike.”
**
Mr. White entered the dining hall and casually approached the Cambridge’s table. Richard took the cue and left George to tend with the guests. They paced to a more secluded section of the room.
“Welcome back Aaron. I take it that your return means that you’ve finally come to your senses” Richard inferred. Aaron remained silent and coldly glanced at the fading smirk centered above the lion’s mane. “No need to apologize for the earlier outburst, I trust that you’ll redeem yourself. After all, a man is only as great as his responsibilities.”
“How can you still follow him so blindly?” Aaron asked.
He scoffed, “You’re the only one who’s blinded Aaron. We do what we do because it needs to be done. Most men see the future as a line but we see it as a painting and Afghanistan was nothing more than a few red drops buried into our masterpiece. If we stop now then all of the fallen will be lost in vain. We’re soldiers son, not slaves, that’s why it makes sense for us to question our resolve from time to time. Deep down I know you’ll do the right thing.”
Aaron wasn’t sure what to say. Before he could reply George tapped his glass and signaled a toast. Why he entertained the guests it was Richards cue to spread the real announcement via telepathy:
Attention all fellow associates,
My brother and I would like to extend our thanks to all in attendance. Upon careful reflection on each of the chosen applicants the board has selected three contestants who will compete in this year’s executive exam. We have decided to nominate Ranae Desjardins, Klaudia Heinrich, and Jacoby Sforza. The competition will commence at the Summit in two weeks. We wish good fortunes to all of the nominees and look forward to seeing you at your best.
Always strive for greatness and be elite…
The crowd cheered with enthusiasm as both Brothers finished their speeches in sync.
“I can handle the Americans.” Aaron stated.
The lion smiled as he shifted his attention to the Wolf. George stared briefly at White but retracted his glance. “Nice try, but the situation has already been resolved.” He patted his son-in-law on the back then rejoined the table.
Black Betty; James’ Point of View:
The contact searching for the rifles’ origin was known as Earl Lee Reiser. Upon begin a firearms expert Earl was also a paranoid conspiracy theorist, which is why he requested to meet face to face instead of passing emails like a normal person. Brown didn’t mind it much since it gave our team an excuse to test out the field equipment. Each of us were given light armor with warped red insignias placed in the center of their chestpieces.
At this time we were already in Flagship City. Flagship might be the one city in the country were politics could literally get you killed. Of all of the major cities in the nation FC hold the record for most veterans in the population and the highest voter turnout on elections. Both the local Workhorse and Eagle parties stem from the two rivaling industries that built the City’s economy. The Workhorse party supports Flagship’s emerging tech market whereas the more conservative Eagle party backs the Weapons companies that first establish the town during the French and Indian War. In recent years, random trends of mysterious deaths have caused the public to suspect that the political rivalry between both parties has actually evolved into urban warfare.
As our jet hovered over the roof of Reiser’s lab, I equipped my new gauntlets. According to Brown these mechanized gloves would help me control my blast power. Harlan, Carter, Lowery, and I each roped down to the roof a moved to the staircase. Despite being new to the field Elijah was a quick learner and moved in formation almost seamlessly. Mable on the other hand, began to strut down the stairwell ahead of the team.
“Why is she even here?” I asked.
“I never got a clear answer on that either.” Carter added.
“Charlie says it’s classified, but if he’s okay with it we should be too.” Scott attested.
“Hey guys!” Lowery barked. “Are you going to catch up or are you just enjoying the view?”
“We’re on a field mission Lowery! Shouting at your teammates only compromises our position.”
She pouted her lips and bowed as she opened the lab door. “After you, bossman.”
We entered a large room filled with lab stations, gun parts, heavy machinery, a firing range, and hundreds of assembled weapons. Harlan opened a nanite capsule from his waste as blue vapor spread through the room. The spore-like material regrouped in a circled his head an illuminated into a halo.
“Looks like Scotty has a good idea.” Lowery grinned.
“It’s a comslink” Harlan explained. “All of the nanites I’ve built produce electronic signatures that link up to Sapru’s hardrive. It’s much more difficult to intercept than radio frequencies. So if you need to chat with HQ, just push down on the team logo.”
I briefly tested it out. “Nasiha, Charlie, we’re in the lab. Can you hear us?”
“All systems online” said Sapru.
“You’re loud and clear.” Charlie answered.
“Brown this place is massive. Do you have an idea where Reiser is?”
“Try the second floor. That’s where Earl conducts his more private experiments.”
I stepped up the staircase and noticed a flickering light peeking through the end of the hall. I approached the open door and saw another empty room. In each corner stood armored statues that held an uncanny resemblance to several famous veterans. The walls were covered in advanced mathematical equations and photos of customized weapons stringed together with multi-colored laces; besides that the work area looked pristine. My attention drifted to a nearby desk with a dismantled rifle and one of the same liquid magazines I saw from the ambush.
As the team examined the room Harlan lifted the cartridge from the workbench. The surface of the bench changed to a bright red as the armored statues aimed their weapons at us.
Before I could react the barrel of a shotgun pressed against the back of my skull. I heard a raspy voice whisper, “Black Sheep.”
“Hahahahahahaha!”--
BLAM!
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