Thunderbolts: Rebirth #1

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#1  Edited By DickGrayson

This is a story I'm going to try to complete. I apologize for not being too great at keeping my word and finishing things I started. But here it is, the Rebirth of the Thunderbolts. A re-imagining in a way? I don't know what to call it, but here it is.

Deep in the one of The Vault’s cells Bullseye sat, grinning. His cell was empty, a plain white room with nothing inside. The guards wouldn’t risk anything in that man’s cell. They illegally stopped feeding him in fear that one day delivering him his food they’d find themselves with a piece of silverware jammed in their eyeball socket. Bullseye’s cell hadn’t been touched in weeks, and the expert marksman was beginning to starve. To his surprise, the slot that never dared to be opened opened. Lester’s eyes met with the peeping eyes staring in at him.
“May I help you?”
“You’ve been bailed out.”
Bullseye’s eyes widened and a look of surprise was given to the guard.
Bullseye was carried in a wheel chair, sporting a restraint jacket and a mussel. Two guards placed a hand on his shoulders, lifting him from the wheel chair, and removing the facemask, then the Restraint Jacket, leaving him wearing a white T-Shirt and Levi’s. The rest of the process was unseen to him, as he was being given back the items he came there with.
A toothpick.
A pen.
A paperclip.
A bouncy ball.
Bullseye gratefully accepted and nodded to the man, who in reply, narrowed his eyes. Lester then continued by placing the items in his pockets.
“There is a limo outside.”
Bullseye didn’t reply, and headed to the exit, turning around before he did, tracing his fingers around the Bullseye carved on his forehead with a grin to the guard.
Outside he looked around, and just as he did the limo pulled up, and a suited man rushed him into the car.
“What the hell is goin’ on ‘ere?”
Bullseye asked, confused. His expression turned into a pleased smile.
“It’s always a pleasure to be with an Osborn.”
Harry didn’t give him a happy look and tossed him a file. Bullseye received and flipped through.
“Thunderbolts, eh? Sounds familiar.”
Bullseye replied tossing the file back to Harry.
“The world needs a team to do what the big guys can’t get done.”
“Big guys?”
“Heroes, Captain America, Iron Man, Thor…. Even Spider-Man.” Harry explained further.
“I’m not out to make the world a better place, I’m out for money, an’ Hornhead. If you don’ get me either o’ those, count me out.”
Bullseye declined.
“Do you think that I’m dumb enough to think I wouldn’t have money to get you in this team?”
“Like Father like son.”
Bullseye smiled, and turned his head as a suited man beside him popped open a suitcase filled with cash.
“One Million Dollars.” Harry said, needing this to work.
“Common price….” Bullseye said, not satisfied.
“I do my own thing now, Osborn. I’m not your average hired gun. I told your father the same thing, but he still got me to join ‘is Dark Avengers.”
The limo pulled to a hard stop, and Harry commanded him to get out, as the two muscle men beside him did before Harry said the words. Lester did as he was barked, and stared into the barrel of the gun that was aimed at the Bullseye carved onto his forehead.
“C’mon, I dare ya’.” Bullseye challenged, with his hand in his pocket, grabbing onto his led-less pencil, and as the tough guy’s finger itched the trigger, Bullseye weaved from the barrel of the gun then releasing the pencil into the man’s eye in a quick motion. As the other man in black tried to make a move, Lester took the man’s gunned hand whom he had just injured, and snapped the elbow over his knee, receiving the gun, then blasting away the second man. In what seemed to be a flash he then darted the gun through the driver’s window shattering them, allowing the handle of the gun to kill the driver.
“Try better then that, Osborn.” Bullseye said with a bow, then darting up a fire escape.