Back Alley, Queens, New York
“Beats me why we’re even bothering looking for these guys.” One of the police officers guarding the crime scene stated as he flicked the torch up and down the alleyway with a lazy gesture that only momentarily stopped on the hole scorched into the ground. “Fire guys are the worst, they all are arsonists at the very least. We should be thanking whoever is taking them rather than trying to bring them to justice.”
“Yeah well these guys sometimes have families.” His partner stated. “The first victim that Firebug guy was taken whilst walking his kids to the park, the parents of the second victim Bushfire are distraught and rumour has it that a third guy Fireflight or something like that has been taken.” He stopped and shuddered. “That’s a pattern, this guy deserves the same kind of treatment we would give Scourge or the Punisher.”
“So basically he’s another criminal?” The first cop asked. “Where does the line get drawn Fredricks? Is that skateboard punk a criminal or a vigilante, or that guy with the arrows and his partner the girl with the pink hair?”
“Ah they don’t pay us enough to fixate on that Morelli, let the Commissioner and the SHIELD stooges worry about that.” Fredricks told him as he shone his light down the alleyway. “All you and I have to do is keep anyone from falling down this hole for the next few hours, then it’s a drink at the Wheelhouse and a stack at Ma and Pa’s before heading home to the wife.”
“Right.” Morelli replied as a gust of wind swept down the alleyway. “I hope this wind don’t keep up, we’ll be frozen by the time our relief arrives.” He added, as the silver and black armoured figure glided on the wind above their heads onto the edge of one of the overhanging building. Tapping his red tinged visor, Robert Roland scanned the street below him, his gaze falling on the hole in the tarmac, the ambient heat round the rim still glowing a dull orange. Robert didn’t think of himself as a hero, he just knew he was a man with the experience to deal with whatever was going on underneath the city. It had been the reason why he had bought the suit of the deceased Maggia enforcer Gregory Stevens from a police auction six years ago. And while he regretted how his drinking and obsession with preparing for the worst had cost him his marriage, he was glad that he’d purchased the suit.
“Hey you come down here with your hands up!!” Fredricks yelled up at the building, his torch and handgun pointed at the Robert’s feet, joined seconds later by Morelli’s piece. Obliging Robert activated the suit’s gyros and descended to street level via the use of an artificially created mini tornado. “Dispatch we have a Code Indigo situation at out location,” Fredricks stated into his radio, “some meta-human is snooping around a crime scene.”
“Does this meta have a name?” A female voice responded from the other end of the radio.
“Hey you, what’s your name?” Morelli asked, the question giving Robert pause, he had never thought of an alias to operate under, mostly because he was only planning to use the suit once and that was it. He mentally skipped through a few names; Cyclone, Typhoon, Hurricane, Wind Duster, Tempest until…
“It’s Derecho, I’m looking into the abductions and trying to track the heat emissions given off by the kidnappers and those they abducted.” Robert stated, before mentally kicking himself about choosing that name in particular.
“Okay Drencho, so water powers along with the wind stuff then.” Morelli sighed as he took a look at Fredricks before writing the name down in his notebook.
“Derecho not Drencho.” Robert replied. “Am I under arrest or am I free to go?” He asked hesitantly.
“Uh I guess.” Fredricks answered.
“Thank you, and the answer to your question is that the line is the same as yours, you’re a hero until you start behaving like a criminal.” Robert told them as he took off, his eyes scanning the streets below for more heat signatures similar to the one in the alley.
“Thanks I guess.” Fredricks mumbled just as his radio crackled.
“Fredricks, we’re sending Riordan and Richthofen to back you up.” The Dispatch caller announced, her words causing both officers to look at each other with worry on their faces.
“Crap Riordan is going to have our heads for not stopping that guy.” Fredricks gasped.
“You mean the guy who jumped us and flew away?” Morelli suggested. “Let Drencho take the heat from Riordan, better him then us right?”
**
Three Blocks from F.E.A.S.T Kitchen, New York
Maggie wrinkled her nose as she and Lugh reached the manhole cover three blocks down from the F.E.A.S.T Kitchen that Firefight had been snatched from. While the police had talked to them briefly, they were more concerned with getting Mashup back to the Raft, and fortunately none of the homeless people at the centre had felt like revealing what had actually had happened.
“Ah so this is the portal to adventures then?!” Lugh stated happily as he ran a large hand over the manhole cover.
“Or the sewer.” Maggie replied. Despite grabbing a coat and a pair of old wellington boots she wasn’t relishing heading underground. “I don’t suppose that ‘Handyman’ is one of the crafts that you are god of?” She asked coyly, only for Lugh to smash the cover with a giant fist, the metal plate caving in two and falling into the sewage below.
“Aye it is now.” Lugh murmured, as he descended down the ladder. Looking around for a moment, Maggie followed him down, before sploshing into the filthy water running under the streets. “Now to fix the hollow we have created.” Lugh announced as he picked up the pieces of manhole cover and pushing them together, a green flash of light fusing the plate back into one piece. With a lazy throw Lugh replaced the manhole cover, the force behind the throw embedding it in the concrete above them and also plunging the tunnels into darkness for a few seconds, until Maggie fished out a pocket torch in her coat and turned it on, the narrow beam of light pointing down the tunnel.
“I have a rough idea where we have to go to reach F.E.A.S.T but because we don’t have a map down here.” Maggie murmured as a humanoid earthen figure rose out of the sludge. “My golems can act as markers, help us get back to the surface just encase we get lost.”
“A smart idea indeed lass.” Lugh commented, as the pair of them headed down the tunnels. “Your cleverness and large heart remind me of Lady Alynsdale, a friend from Avalon who went on many adventures with me. While not a god, she was a sworn swordswoman of the mist, and blessed with a lifespan equal to all the creatures of the Isles.”
“You keep mentioning adventures.” Maggie stated as they reached a cross-section of tunnels. “That they are why you came here.”
“You don’t understand.” Lugh sighed as another golem rose from the sewage, one of its arms outstretched back towards the manhole they had descended through. “My people have few worshippers to sing songs to keep us strong, so I went to this new shore to find new tales of greatness, tales that would keep us strong enough to keep Balor and his ilk imprisoned.”
“Balor?” Maggie asked, as her light reflected on something slick lying in the water.
“A terror with an evil eye.” Lugh informed her. “A monster truly, be glad that an alliance of Danann, Good Fae and Hibernians defeated him in battle and locked him in a grave deep in the mists of time.”
“I am, and I also want to know what this is.” Maggie asked as she bent down next to the cocoon, the smell of burnt flesh rising from the structure. “That stinks like something rotten.” She added as she reluctantly placed her hand on the outer shell, a pleasant warmth running through her body. “It is warm though.” She murmured, seconds before the water she and Lugh were standing in began to steam as the cocoon began to split apart.
“It stirs.” Lugh commented, as Maggie scrambled up out of the water.
“But what is it?” Maggie asked, as the cocoon was engulfed in a jet of flame, one that formed into the shape of a man, albeit one wreathed in flame. “Uh hello, we don’t mean you any…” She began, only to have the figure run from her. “Hey!!”
“Aye for its poor manners I say we give chase!” Lugh snorted as he ran after the burning figure, Maggie sploshing along in his wake.
**
Waterfront, New York
“Yes run!!” Bagman hissed as he chased a hapless thug along the docks, before following his target as he ducked into a warehouse before pining him to the floor and knocking him unconscious. “The Bagman never tires and he always bags his victim.” He added, his words accompanied by a chorus of safeties being removed from handguns as four dockworkers advanced on him, angry looks on their faces and automatic pistols in their mitts.
“It’s okay boys, I can handle this.” A commanding voice stated as a man dressed in a black bodysuit with a red symbol emblazoned on the front walked out of the shadows, his metal shoulder guards, gauntlets and boots enhanced with an array of stud like spikes. “The Maggia is fed up with you messing with their operations Bagboy so…”
“I’m Bagman.” Bagman interrupted, only for the man in black to throw a punch at him, his opponent dodging just in time to avoid a brutal blow to the face. “And I’m you worst nightmare Bloodshed.” He hissed, as the villain in question swung at him again, only for his opponent to vault over his blow and land on his shoulders before hammering blow after blow into the thug’s neck and head.
“As I was saying, my bosses want you dead, and I’m here to make sure blood is shed.” Bloodshed grunted as he shrugged his shoulders, the studs on the pads stabbing into Bagman’s legs. Grunting in pain Bagman slipped off of his opponent onto the floor and was promptly given a swift bladed kick to the torso, a painful slash left across his bare torso.
“Fear me!!” Bagman hissed, as he waved his hands at Bloodshed as he got to his feet, only to receive another kick, this time to the face.
“You kidding me right?” Bloodshed snorted as he Bagman got to his feet, the cuts on his torso and face rapidly healing until the wounds were closed and looked like they had been inflicted months ago rather than within the last minute. “Ah so you heal fast,” Bloodshed hissed, “good.” He added as he made a lung for his opponent, only for him to dive out the way and then kick a box at his enemy, the crate splintering on impact and littering pirated DVDs across the warehouse floor. “Boys blast him, I’m bulletproof so don’t hesitate to light this freak up!” Bloodshed ordered as Bagman clambered into the rafters, accompanied by gunshots.
“You aren’t bag proof!!” Bagman hissed as he agilely leapt through the rafters, his opponents firing willy-nilly at their lithe target. “The Bagman is the vengeance that comes at night!” He added, as he saw Bloodshed slam his fist into the central support for the roof, the metal column buckling just as his opponent landed on one of the areas it was directly attached to. With a creak the rafters collapsed, along with Bagman, to the floor.
“I’m going to remove that ugly sack from your head Bagboy.” Bloodshed stated as he placed his boot on one of Bagman’s arms before extending a blade from the wrist of his gauntlet. “Any last words?”
“I’m Bagman.” Bagman whispered.
“Yes you are Tiger.” A female voice purred, seconds before a silenced salvo of gunshots sounded, followed by the thuds of Bloodshed’s thugs falling to the floor. Turning Bloodshed threw a punch at the new speaker. Taking his chance as his opponent shifted his weight, Bagman threw Bloodshed over his shoulder, the villain landing face-first into the concrete. Dazed he got to his feet, only for a swift punch to the face to send him back to the floor, this time unconscious. “Hmm looks like I just hit the jackpot.” The woman purred as Bagman saw her for the first time.
“Who are you?” He asked, as he looked the woman up and down, her body seemingly formed of dark shadowy energy and clad in a wide brimmed fedora, trench-coat and boots, also seemingly made of the same substance.
“Call me Noir.” The woman replied playfully, her eyes the only remotely human feature set in her shadowy face.
“You want to team-up?” Bagman asked.
“No.” Noir replied bluntly. Stopping next to the window she looked back towards the city, only to see a massive jet of flame to erupt from the ground.
“So about that team-up…” Bagman stated, a worried smile hidden behind his makeshift mask.
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