The void of space was suddenly illuminated by a blinding flurry of lightning as the fabric between time and space was ripped apart like a once clenched jaw. The bow of a ship slipped through the gaping maw as the Hive Ship exited slipstream and came to orbit around the remote M-Class planet. Behind the massive vessel came another like it and another after that as each of the ships entered into orbit around the planet. From the surface, the humanoid populace turned their eyes to the sky as even from orbit the Hive ships were visible to those upon the surface. A primitive culture, they could not possibly understand was was about to befall their societies but yet they knew enough to feel fear.

From within the Hive ships came a deafening humming noise as hundreds of small ships suddenly exited from the hexagonal patterning on the ships' underbelly. Diving through the planets atmosphere, the ships began to fire on those below. A man reached out to his child only to be struck down, a metal prong hooking into his back as his body was forcibly transformed. Crying out to his child one last time, the man's eyes went blank as he lost his individuality becoming nothing but a drone to the invading aliens. Turning to his crying child, he extended a spike from his wrist before reaching down and submitting her to the same fate as he. More and more of the natives began to fall to this fate as a voice echoed over the planet from the Hive ships above.

"<We are the Reach. We will add your biological and technological distinctiveness to our own. Your culture will adapt to service us. Resistance is futile.>"¹

The message continued to play on a loop as the Reach began to bomb the planet from orbit. As they had done to the populace, the surface was transformed as the Reach penetrated the surface with pillars that unfolded to cocoon the planet. Drilling to the planet's core, the Reach were preparing the world for a metamorphosis, insuring it would survive the terraforming process. As the cocoon began to spread, the planet's resources were slowly absorbed as the Reach harvested each and everyone of them. Their new drones slowly awakening from the transformation process as they began to assist the cocooning process, their new implants allowing them total comprehension as they became one with the hive mind. Descending through the atmosphere, the first of the Hive ships prepared to land as the other two departed from orbit. This world, like many others now belonged to the Reach.

---

"So here's how the job is going to go..." Peter Quill said as he slid down the ladder that connected the helm of the Milano to the main deck. "...We come in on Tarnax four's dark side, land on the outskirts of the capital and then the Princess and I will sneak in." Quill stated looking towards Koriand'r. He still couldn't believe his team included the Princess of Tamaran. It was only seven solar cycles ago that they had met on Knowhere. Quill couldn't help but smirk as he thought back to his first impression on the Princess.

Looking back towards Quill, Koriand'r's bright green eyes were unblinking as she slowly nodded before voicing her own concerns. "And how exactly will we be sneaking in. I have never met a Skrull but based on Rocket's description of them we don't exactly look green or have long pointed ears. If the pointed ears are what makes a Skrull then perhaps it would be best if we send Rocket and Taghurruh." She said nodding towards the raccoon and feline humanoid in the room. It seemed like only hours ago they had all been at each other's throats with weapons drawn.

"Look Quill it sounds to me like you don't really have much of a plan once again." Rocket piped up from the corner where he had taken his gun apart and was cleaning it piece by piece. "That's really only about twelve percent of a plan when you think about." Quill still couldn't believe he had taken on that pipsqueak of a bounty hunter. His team really wasn't the stuff of legends that Yondu's original Guardians had been. Then again, where was he supposed to pick up a Kryptonian in this day and age. A Tamarian was basically the next best thing, it was everyone else he was worried about.

"I am Groot." Came a strong stoic reply. Quill could only roll his eyes at the vocabulary challenged half of the bounty hunting duo.

"What do you mean it's better than eleven percent of a plan?" Rocket snarled towards the towering floral colossus behind him as Groot voiced his opinion to the group.

"I am a fan of the Princess' plan personally." Growled Tigorr from the otherside of the deck. "I would make an excellent Skrull, especially once I have spilled enough of their blood on me." Quill didn't know much about Tigorr, what he did know was that the Karnan had once been a proud officer before being dishonorable discharged and becoming nothing more than a drunk wandering Knowhere.

"We are not going in guns..." Quill paused as he looked towards Tigorr again. "Err claws ablazing. We need to be able to get in and get out with that medicine for Tarnax two." He looked around at the team again. "That means we need to avoid fighting."

"_{I do not even see why I am here then.}" Tigorr muttered angrily as he leaned back against the wall with his arms crossed.

"Has to beat losing money on poor bets and cheap alcohol." Rocket snarked from his corner. "Face it, you were the planet drunk before Quill and Kori pulled your ass out of that bar."

"As I recall it, I was the one who saved their... how did you put it? 'Asses'." Tigorr replied. "I believe you were the one wanting to collect the bounty on the head of the Princess."

"Don't sell yourself short there toothy, you've got quite the bounty on your own head." Rocket replied as he held up his assembled gun. "A deserter goes for a pretty sum, not as pretty as a Princess of Tamaran mind you."

"And I told you, when we have freed Tamaran, then I will pay you tenfold the price upon our heads." Koriand'r said to Rocket.

"Can we get back on topic here?" Quill asked as he looked around at the team, holding his arms out as he tried to act like some sort of mediator. "Y'know only twelve percent of a plan over here."

"Peter, we're ensuring our allegiances are all accounted for. I believe that is more important than your fool hardy plan at the moment." Koriand'r replied as her solid greens eyes stared towards Peter.

"Well excuse me Princess." Peter replied as he slumped down on the floor with his arms crossed.

"Eh don't worry Kori, for that sum of units I'd be a fool to turn you over to the Psions." Rocket assured Koriand'r. "Never liked dealing with those sadistic bastards anyways."

"And what about Taghurruh? Is your loyalty to him as well." The Tamaranian asked.

"Provided he doesn't try to eat me again, we're all good here." Rocket replied as he turned to Quill. "Now then, as for your plan, here's what we're going to do..."

---

¹ Translated from Alien Dialect

Bucky clenched his fist and the arc shield that Tony Stark had designed for him burst into life. With it came a hail of bullets that Bucky only narrowly managed to erect his shield in front of as they rained down on him. The bullets ricocheted off it maniacally and one tore clean through the brain of one of Tiger Shark’s thugs. One down, Bucky thought, as he rolled behind cover and tried to get a bearing of his surroundings. Jackson would be here soon and needed to make sure this place wasn’t hot when he arrived. To make matters worse the deluge of bullets attracted the attention of Tiger Shark’s men aboard the container ship and Bucky could hear them making their way towards the edge of the ship. He had to level the playing field and he needed to do it quickly.

From behind him Bucky heard the accented English of the red bespectacled man. “You will make a fine addition to my Lord’s menagerie.”

He gritted his teeth and took a glance out of cover at the bald man and noted that Tiger Shark had disappeared deep into the yacht. Bucky squinted a little as he took aim and flung his shield hard against the side of the container ship and watched as it knocked the bald man clean from his feet and returned to him. He didn’t have time for this. Brent would be here soon and he needed to have Tiger Shark by then. Bucky rolled out of cover and reached for his Luger and looked down his sights at the remaining Tiger Shark thugs left standing on the yacht. They opened fire frantically in his direction but Bucky remained still, slowed his breathing, and ignored the bullets crackling against his shield. Finally he pulled the trigger.

The first bullet struck the man with the Uzi stood in the back. It tore through his shoulder and up through his jaw on the way out and dropped him to his knees. The second and third bullets struck the man stood beside him with the shotgun. The second knocked his shotgun out of his hands and the third tore through his knee and dropped him to the ground next to his colleague. The last man standing had with a rifle in his hand. Bucky could see the nozzle of the man’s weapon shaking as he aimed it in his direction. Barnes shook his head, shot the man through the foot, and holstered his Luger with a sigh. In a matter of seconds he’d kicked his fallen foes’ weapons over the edge of the yacht and into the sea, then set about making sure those that weren’t unconscious already wouldn’t be causing him any more trouble. Taking a great deal of pleasure from leveling one of his heels down on the man in the red sunglasses.

Another hail of bullets came down around Bucky as the men left on the container ship took aim at him. He glanced up at them, there were three or four of them at most, and were it not for their high ground he would have made short work of them. He needed them down but there was no reaching them from where he was. He gritted his teeth and headed into the yacht after Tiger Shark and hoped he could subdue their boss before Jackson arrived. He’d place a gun to Tiger Shark’s head, tell them SHIELD were on their way, and order them to put their guns down if they ever wanted to see the outside of a prison cell ever again. They were pirates, not ideologues.

Somehow Tiger Shark's yacht managed to look even bigger on the inside than it had looked from the outside. It was plush, as one might expect of a yacht owned by a man that practically owned an entire ocean's worth of commerce, and all kinds of exotic furs and tapestries hung from its walls. Bucky gripped his shield tightly as he pushed his way into the yacht and snapped alert as the doors he'd entered through slammed shut behind him. There stood alone and unarmed at a balcony stood a smiling Tiger Shark. His smile bemused Bucky until he heard a loud guttural roar from behind him.

Striding menacingly across the room with its eyes fixed upon Bucky was a particularly hungry looking Bengal tiger. He breathlessly looked up at Tiger Shark, who was smiling broadly at the spectacle, and shook his head in disbelief at his eccentricity. "You have got to be kidding me."


Bucky powered down his shield and strode backwards away from the tiger as it circled him. It brandished its sharp yellow teeth in his direction and Barnes tried to reason out the best strategy to take the thing out as quickly as possible. It lunged at him and threw one of its paws in his direction but Barnes darted away from it. Tiger Shark let out a cackle that sounded like the death rattle of a dying man. Paw after paw, Bucky ducked and dodged out of the way until finally he offer the tiger his left arm.

It latched onto it and attempted to tear at Bucky's flesh but its teeth slid down the metallic surface of it harmlessly. Barnes prompt the tiger's mouth open with his metal harm long enough to force his right arm inside it and clench his fist. There was a crackle of energy and Bucky's arc shield burst into life with a crunch. The tiger's jaws were forced open past breaking point and it slid lifelessly to the ground with its teeth still wrapped around the shield. Bucky forced it free with his metal arm and glanced up at Tiger Shark on the balcony.

"No more games," Barnes said as he fought for breath. "You're coming with me, Tiger Shark. You'll answer for what happened in Yemen."

Tiger Shark stared at Bucky impassively for a few moments. He opened his mouth to reveal a forked tongue and several jagged teeth. With his tongue he forced one of his teeth out of place and crunched down on it. Barnes finally realised what was happening and sprinted up the stairs, grabbed the pirate by his lapels, and attempted to force his hand into his mouth. It was too late. His skin turned translucent white, froth was foaming from his mouth, and the overwhelming stench of burning flesh was heavy in the air.

From outside the sound of Agent Jackson's borrowed Chinook approaching the container ship alerted Bucky to the fact that his work was far from done. He stooped down and picked up Tiger Shark. As he made it to the mouth of the yacht he spotted some of the pirates attempting to pepper Jackson with bullets as he tried to bring the Chinook down. The bullets stopped as they spotted Bucky tossing Tiger Shark's lifeless body to the ground on the floor of his yacht.

"Tiger Shark is dead," Bucky called out to the pirates at the top of his voice. They listened in cowed silence, unable to take their eyes of Tiger Shark's corpse. "Anybody that doesn't wish to join him should throw their weapons over the side of the ship and get down on their knees."

One by one the pirates threw their weapons over the side. Jackson landed safely and set about releasing the crew members. Unsurprisingly they proved willing guards when Agent Jackson told them that he and Captain America needed to search Tiger Shark's yacht for evidence.

Brent could sense Bucky's disappointment as the two men rummaged. "Look, there was no way you could know that Tiger Shark was going to take his own life and even if you had there's no telling whether you could have stopped it or not. All I know is that the world is a much better place without him and that there's thousands of people out there that would agree with me, Valentina and Mike included."

"Have you spoken to them?" Brent asked, gesturing towards the exit of the yacht as Bucky shook his head. "Go radio them, I can finish up here, they'll be over the moon to here that the dreaded 'Tiger Shark' isn't going to be causing them or anybody else any more trouble."

Bucky smiled politely. "You sure? There's a lot to get through."

Agent Jackson assured him it was fine and Bucky wandered out onto the deck of the yacht where Tiger Shark's lifeless body was sprawled out. He knelt beside it and placed a hand over the pirate's blindfold and considered pulling it away for a second. Slowly he drew his hand away from it and left the blindfold in place. What was the point? It didn't matter what was underneath. All that mattered was that Bucky had failed. He lifted a hand against the inbuilt earpiece in the cowl of his uniform and readied himself to explain to Valentina and Mike what had happened.

First he had to speak to George.

---

---

I now have a name to my enemy thanks to this intervention by this… Iron Fist. I am thankful for that and I can feel my anger calming itself down or at the very least leveling out for the moment. My mind keeps repeating Professor Wing’s words or specifically the name of the individual responsible for all of my misery. Khan. But the professor mentioned him like he was some enigma, some myth, some nightmarish kung fu fable. But if he wasn’t really real why was my brother dead and why did the professor shake in his boots when I held out the talisman for him to give me answers about? Why was he afraid? I suppose it could be the fact that Khan is like any god or religion with overzealous followers who did anything for their beliefs. If that was the case that meant I could find the leader of the cult and bring him to justice because if Khan didn’t order it, someone else did.

My feet land with a thud on the rooftop in Chinatown and I looked to my right at Iron Fist.

“You mentioned knowing where to look to next, was it?”

I’ve met a new ally tonight and he seems to know so much more than I do about everything regarding my powers and mythology. It’s all so very interesting and perhaps us meeting where we did was fate’s way of bringing us together to stop this Cult of Khan from harming more people. He hasn’t said anything but I can see something beyond his mask, something angered and determined— feelings I know too well. I wonder if he was touched by this cult in a similar way as I have?

Iron Fist begins to answer my question but then he begins to notice something as if he can feel something in the air, what did he call it?… the qi?

That’s when I can hear distantly the sound of others landing on nearby rooftops. My brows narrow and I look to my left and right.

“We’re being followed, aren’t we?”

But by who?

---

---

This wouldn’t have been the first time Jade Scott had worked away from what she had gotten comfortable with. After all, that was exactly what she did when she reached adulthood on her planet— searching the galaxy to live up to the “Alan Scott” standard. During those formative years she traveled from planet to planet helping people however she could and risking all that she had against ridiculous odds. Her willpower and tenacity is why she thought she was selected by the Lantern Corps, she didn’t realize it had been under the request of her father that she should be considered. She never understood why the Guardians would take a suggestion as a reason to induct someone into holding a great responsibility for the universe at large. She wasn’t fodder, she wasn’t a contrived or superfluous addition to the corps and they would have to see that.

She refused to be looked down upon because they thought they were doing a favor to Alan Scott.

Jade tightened the clothes on her back, it was weird not going in flying the flags of green and black with the logo of the corps on her chest but this was borderline sketchy territory that was way too close to Vega space for comfort; she needed to look like someone that wasn’t trying to be an authority figure. She knew what it was like on Vega, she had met one of her closest friends, M’gann M’orzz, fighting off slavers on Dredfahl. That was before she was a Green Lantern; it felt so long ago. Jade had stayed in contact since she left to become a Green Lantern, though it had become difficult with how the martian liked to jump from one space station to the other— blending in with the populace and avoiding the bounty hunters that were thrown at her due to her efforts to stop slaver operations in that part of galactic space.

That was one of the reasons Jade had made her way to The Hole, otherwise known as “Hardcore Station”.

Hardcore Station was like many other “outposts” in-between actual provincial space with the degree of lawlessness and black market trade. Lanterns and Novas were attacked on sight, notable bounty hunters were watched cautiously, and generally anyone who thought they had any sort of authority were blasted to the next star quadrant as soon as they came out of hyperspace. It’s one reason Jade had to opt to taking public transport to Hardcore Station, though she didn’t particularly mind despite the immediacy and importance of her mission. Hell, her father hadn’t left her mind since she decided to go look for him “off-the-grid”. As a Green Lantern she wasn’t ‘mandated’ to investigate but if she ran into trouble and clues in the process of patrol she was not directly forbidden to pursue it. A procedural loophole as it were.

As the transport ship’s docking doors swung open the green-skinned girl could feel an awkward anxiety overtake her. She took a deep breath as she tightened the black gloves she held over her hands— the absence of the lantern ring making her feel awkward as she reached down to her utility belt where she stored it for a second before instead shuffling her hand in her pockets. She looked down to the energy pistol she had holstered on her side. She hadn’t fired a mundane weapon in so long, it almost felt fake to her as she walked forward as she tightened her nanoweave jacket. But it was better to be ‘undercover’ than to cause a stir that led to a firefight that she really couldn’t handle by herself right now.

“Blast it, I feel naked.” She muttered under her breath.

“You can look naked back in my quarters if you want.” A cocky voice of a passing smuggler who heard her became apparent and Jade immediately frowned.

“Ew, no.”

“Pfft. Whatever, you’ll—” The man’s voice was cut off as another woman nearby, this one bearing an eyepatch, slammed her fist into the side of his head.



“Don’t make this a problem.”

“...blast it.” The rude man stated as he wiped the blood dripping from his forehead before he scurried away.

“Appreciate it, didn’t want to have to shoot him to get him to get the hint.”

How long has it been since you shot someone, Jade?

Jade smirked as she looked over the woman. No hello, M’gann? I was hoping for something a little warm after all we’ve been through together.

Jade leaned against a wall as she looked over the woman, who was obviously her friend in disguise. Honestly, she wasn’t expecting to see her so soon let alone right out of the transport. At least this made things rather quick, but then again she was never a fan of telepathy despite her own empathic powers.

Yes, I know. Er.. follow me, we can talk somewhere… less crowded.

After you.

It was a start, at least.

Center City, WA
1:14 AM

Tracy walked through the smoke filled casino floor. Old ladies chain-smoked unfiltered cigarettes while they worked clattering slot machines with dead eyes. A half dozen dolled up ex-strippers wobbled across casino floors on too tall heels while they dishied out chips and cigarettes. The heavy make-up did a bad job of hidding the miles and the years. Tracy figured for the right price a man could take one of them home. Drunk businessmen played blackjack while geeks in Hawaiian shirts and Shriner fez hats played roulette.

The Gold Rush Casino got its name from Center City's past. The city sprung up in the wake of the Klondike Gold Rush. Situated in the Pacific Northwest, Center City was the one of the last outposts before Alaska and became a boomtown because of it. Like a lot of boomtowns, a primarily male populace needed a place to spend their money. Saloons and brothels popped up across the town to serve the thousands of rough prospectors passing through on their way north. The gold rush dried up and the boom years faded like they always do, but Center City pushed on. Its origins in human desire explained a lot about the current state of the city. How could the city be asked to clean up when vice was in its DNA?

Tracy found a pit boss walking around the craps table. He had his eye on a pair of hot hands rolling eight the hard way for the thrid consecutive time. He seemed mildly annoyed when Tracy got his attention.

"Yes, sir?"

"Here to see Milligan. Hyde sent me."

Annoyance quickly turned to deference. The pit boss pulled out a walkie-talkie and radioed some unseen party. A moment later, a security guard in a red blazer and slacks was escorting Tracy off the casino floor and into the back. They passed a room crammed with monitors. Every inch of the casino seemed to be under surveillance. Another room down from the monitors had its door open. Tracy saw soundproof padding and a single metal chair bolted to the floor. That was where cheaters went, and Tracy was almost sure there would be no cameras in that room. Based on the pit boss' look, the lucky craps shooter would soon find himself in that little room.

"Mr. Milligan? He's the guy."

The security guard led Tracy into a sprawling office. It was decorated in a very gaudy fashion, leopard print wallpaper and a faux fur carpet. Fake Venus De Milo statues flanked a walnut desk big enough to hold an orgy on. A long glass window behind the desk looked down on the casino floor. Behind the desk, his leopard fur slippers up on the desk, was Joey Milligan. Milligan looked like an extra from a bad disco movie. He wore a bright pink shirt with half of it unbuttoned, a large gold necklace and medallion caught in the steely gray fur on his chest. He also wore a white pair of pants that would have looked embarrassing on a man half his age, but made Milligan look clownish.

"Tracy Lawless, the man the myth the legend."

Tracy took a chair, a plush leopard print wingback, and nodded as Milligan took his feet down off the desk.

"Mr. Hyde said you needed help with something. So he sent me here to check things out. I came as quick as I could."

"For what I pay Hyde in protection, you should have been here the day before yesterday," Milligan grumbled.

Tracy remained quiet while Milligan rooted through his desk. He came up with a remote control and pointed it at a television to his right. The thing clicked on and, after a few button presses, security camera footage rolled on the monitor. Four minutes worth of footage, all of it taken at different parts of the casino at different times over the past month. Tracy noticed the pattern before Milligan even opened his mouth.

"Notice something?"

"It's the same two guys in every shot, always dressed differently and on different nights, but always at the casino and never together. Casers?"

"That's what my security guys think," said Milligan. "They've been here a long time, well long for case job. That's got me nervous, something may be coming very soon. I want you to case the casers, Lawless. Find them and make them pay for even fucking thinking of trying to rob my joint."

Tracy nodded his head and started to stand.

"I'll be on the floor if you need me."

Triskelion
Washington D.C.

Smiley surveyed the SHIELD operation center with a bit of bemusement. The whole thing was bright and shiny, lots of graphic displays to show technicians and staff rapid-fire information. It was like something out of science fiction, Smiley thought to himself. It was a far cry from his operations center at the Circus. Back then it was a card table, a radio, a teletype machine (later fax machine) and a faded map of Europe with pins in it. Now Smiley could watch from above as a geosynchronous spy satellite floated 36,000 kilometers above the Indian Ocean. Smiley saw two ships and some sort of ruckus going on. There seemed to be muzzle flashes. The sheer fact that he could see that much should have been mind-blowing in and of itself.

"Are they on radio?" Smiley asked a technician.

"Patching in via satellite now, sir. The chief of station on site has callsign Contessa."

Smiley picked up a headset and slid it onto his head. He heard a slight crackle before the line cleared up

"Contessa? This is SHIELD callsign Beggar Man."

He heard a bit of confusion from the woman on the other end of the line. Then there was the shuffling of something as she scanned the code list. Smiley knew she found his name when the papers stopped ruffling and she cursed in Italian.

"Yes, Beggar Man. I copy."

"Situation report on Operation Fish Fry."

"The fish was hooked, but was picked clean by sharks during reeling in."

Smiley swore. Tiger Shark was dead, either by his own hand or from one of his men. That was a possibility he was prepared for, but not one he wanted. Still, one of HYDRA's men was dead. That was a win for their side at least. Now came the other part of the operation, the only one Smiley himself was aware was taking place.

"What about our man on the ground?" Smiley asked, looking through callsigns until he found Barnes'. "Sisyphus. What's his status?"

"Heading back to land shortly."

"Contessa, Patch me through to him."

"I copy, Beggar Man. Stand by."

Aboard the container ship Bucky walked past the lifeless body of the boy he'd killed before sneaking onto Tiger Shark's yacht. There was a puddle of blood beneath his neck where he'd bled as he drowned on his own blood. His face was young and hairless with nary a wrinkle on it. Seventeen, maybe sixteen, Bucky thought to himself as he stared down at him. The ease with which he'd taken the boy's life left him despondent, especially now that he'd failed to capture Tiger Shark, and now he wondered whether he might have dispatched the boy without taking his life. His shield would have made too much noise. At least, Bucky needed to believe that.

He stared down at Tiger Shark's yacht where Brent Jackson was busy sifting through the pirate's possessions for evidence when Valentina's voice came through the earpiece in Bucky's cowl. "Sisyphus? This is Contessa."

"I hear you Contessa," Bucky muttered. "What do you need?"

"I'm putting you through to Beggar Man."

Bucky nodded to himself as he recalled Smiley's call sign and waited to be put through. There was a brief pause and he heard Valentina shuffling around for a few seconds. Finally the shuffling ended and Bucky figured he'd been patched through.

"Come in Beggar Man," Bucky said as he stared out at the Indian Ocean. "This is Sisyphus."

On the other side of the world, Smiley looked down at a sheet of paper in his hands. The sheet contained the names of the six agents he concluded were likely working with HYDRA. Three names were crossed off, three agents passing Smiley's barium meal test. Now it was time for number four.

"Sisyphus..." Smiley didn't have the man's name on his list. It violated protocol, but time was of the essence. "Agent Jackson is to be searched as soon as you return to the mainland. If he is discovered smuggling documents from Tiger Shark's yacht, he is to be arrested immediately and held in the local safehouse until I can arrive in Jakarta. If you understand, simply sign off and proceed with the part of the mission as instructed."

"Roger that Beggar Man," Bucky said gravely as Jackson appeared from inside Tiger Shark's yacht and waved to Bucky. "Over and out."

As he let his hand slip from his earpiece Bucky sighed a little. Jackson, Stevenson, and de la Fontaine had seemed like a close knit group and something like this would tear them apart. Valentina might even be demoted and moved out of Indonesia. There was a part of Bucky that hoped there'd been some mistake but he knew that Brent wouldn't have been under suspicion if there wasn't at least some dirt on him. Jackson's insistence that Bucky leave to make contact with the rest of the team whilst he searched through Tiger Shark's things suddenly seemed conspicuous. Barnes shook his head, reminding himself not to act any differently with Brent, as he heard Jackson's footsteps coming up the steps towards him.

Bucky feigned a smile. "You find anything?"

"Nothing of use," Brent muttered as he pushed his thick glasses up his nose. "We should probably get going soon, Captain. Tiger Shark wasn't the only shark out here in these waters. Just the biggest one. I don't know about you, but I'd much rather not meet any of the others."

Bucky nodded and watched as Jackson wandered over to the captain of the container ship to explain what he needed from him. From his face Bucky could tell that he wasn't pleased at some American ordering him to turn the entire ship around but eventually he came to. The ship's crew rigged a chain to Tiger Shark's yacht and prepared to drag it after them. Satisfied the crew understood the consequences if the contents of Tiger Shark's ship were disturbed before they arrived back in Tanjung Priok, Brent appeared again and gestured to Bucky to climb inside the Chinook.

The journey back was a tense one, much of it conducted in silence, until Bucky told Jackson about the actual tiger that Tiger Shark had kept onboard his yacht. When Bucky explained to him how'd despatched the animal Jackson had laughed until he was red in the face. He'd even taken his hands away from the Chinook's stick for a second to wrap his knuckles against his chest like King Kong. Bucky's heart was in his mouth as he did it but despite everything he couldn't help but smile at someone making a cultural reference he actually understood for once.

In the distance the lights of Tanjung Priok came into sight and Bucky took a glance at Brent sat beside him.

Brent smiled uncomfortably. "Something wrong? You seem a little tense, Cap."

"There was a boy back there," Bucky said, clearing his throat a little as he stared out at the water beneath them. "He must have been seventeen, maybe sixteen, probably not even old enough to buy himself a beer back in the States. I killed him... I had to killed him, he would have blown the whole damn operation otherwise, but I can't get his face out of my mind for some reason. He was too young. You know?"

Jackson nodded and placed one of his hands on Bucky's shoulder to comfort him. Bucky smiled at him briefly and found himself willing Jackson not to have been involved in that mess in Yemen. Yet the feeling in the pit of his stomach, the gnawing, was too strong for him to ignore. The cranes of Tanjung Priok grew closer by the second and in the distance the outline of the black Jeep that had carried Bucky to the port came into sight. In a matter of minutes the two ant-like figures beside it grew more and more detailed. Mike Stevenson's large imposing frame stood cross-armed, his slick back hair unmoved by the wind of the rotors, with "Contessa" beside him waiting for them to land.

As the Chinook lowered to the ground Bucky opened the passenger side door and leapt down.

"Word from Beggar Man," Bucky said as quietly as he could to Valentina and Stevenson, gesturing to Brent. "We need to search him."

Valentina shook her head vociferously and whispered. "Brent? That doesn't make any sense."

Bucky understood her shock. He'd only known Jackson for a day and even he had found himself willing Jackson to be innocent. Bucky could only imagine what Valentina and Stevenson were feeling. They had worked beside him in Indonesia for nearly half a decade, shared their secrets with him, and put their lives on the line for and with him more times than they could count. To hear that Smiley suspected his involvement in a terrorist attack must have felt as much an affront to their character as it did on Jackson's.

"With or without your consent I'm going to search him," Bucky commanded. He looked to Stevenson. "Are you with me?"


"What's going on?" Brent said suspiciously as he climbed out of the helicopter. "What are you guys talking about?"

Stevenson looked to his Station Chief to get his cue and she nodded at him. Brent's eyes widened suddenly as he realised he'd been made and he attempted to run. He'd made it a few metres before Stevenson pulled out his pistol and took aim at him. Bucky placed his hand over Stevenson's pistol and gestured to him to put it down. There was a crackle of energy and Bucky's arc shield burst into life. With an effortless toss Bucky knocked Jackson off his feet and he landed on the ground a violent thud.

Valentina gestured Stevenson towards him. "Search him."

Mike climbed atop Brent and placed one of his large knees in the centre of his chest. The lenses of Brent's glasses had been broken on his tumble to the ground and across his chin were a few grazes where'd he'd scratched his face along on the tarmac.

Jackson tried in vain to wriggle free from Stevenson's grip before opting to plead his case instead. "There's been some kind of mistake here."

A mocking laugh left Stevenson's lips as he looked down at Jackson. "Why'd you run then, Brent?"

He was met with stony silence. It took a while to pat Brent down at first but when Valentina pushed a gun in his face he suddenly became more cooperative. Stevenson turned him over, making sure to push his face into the ground as he did so, and lifted up the distinctive white, orange, and navy gilet that Jackson wore most days. There wedged beneath Brent's shirt and his pants was a brown file full of papers. An expletive slipped from Valentina's lips in Italian and Stevenson held the file up to Bucky with a disappointed look.

"Beggar Man," Bucky said as he placed his hand against his earpiece. "You're going to need to get on a flight to Jakarta as soon as you can."

Jakarta
14:55 Local Time

Smiley kept his head down as the chauffeured car sped through the streets towards the city outskirts. In his lap were files on Brent Jackson, Valentina Allegra de Fontaine, and Michael Stevenson. On the long flight from the States, Smiley had poured over every page in the three thick files. He had to know if Brent Jackson's treasonous behavior had spread to his teammates. The small station in Jakarta had been together for a number of years and appeared on the surface to be very close-knit. Behavior like Jackson's ran the risk of spreading like a cancer. The lure of revenge against superiors and easy money served as powerful incentives for even the most moral beacons.

Fontaine's file contained the most surprises. She was from an aristocratic Italian family. That reminded Smiley of the old days of spying, back when the blue bloods on both sides of the pond were the driving force behind espionage. Fontaine fluently spoke four languages, and could speak and additional four conversationally. Intelligence levels were off the chart. So why was she in a backwater like Jakarta? Smiley answered his own question a few hours later when he read of an incident shortly before her stationing in Jakarta. In Vienna, Fontaine was the bait in a honeytrap plot against a Russian oligarch. The op got blown and made the papers and created a scandal for SHIELD. She was quietly shuffled off to Jakarta with a junior agent, Brent Jackson, who served a minor role in the plan.

By comparison, Stevenson was a ghost. He was a ten-year veteran of SHIELD, and nearly every bit of his file was off-limits to Smiley and his deputy director security clearance. Stevenson's recruitment tests were just as impressive as Fontaine's. The big man was smart, excelled at tradecraft, and was a physical specimen. Smiley was still learning SHIELD's structure, but if the man was in the Circus he would have been marked as scalphunter material from day one. Whoever did the nasty work for the Americans, there was no doubt Stevenson was part of their crowd. He made his way to Jakarta a year after Fontaine and Jackson arrived. Three talented individuals, one now a known double agent, in close quarters and with potential axes to grind with the powers that be. Smiley knew from personal experience that friends of traitors were not always wittingly accomplices of those traitors.

Smiley also had a record of every operation the Jakarta Station carried out, or were even tangentially involved in, since Fontaine and Jackson's arrival. Overall, the wins outweighed the losses. That was until a year ago. Smiley noticed that was the time that Tiger Shark started to first appear in SHIELD reports. Jakarta Station's primary task from then on out was finding the pirate. After that, every attempt to find Tiger Shark or anyone in his organization met with failure. Potential informers went missing, raids always ended up just one step behind the man. Cables between Jakarta and Washington contained frustration between both sides.

He looked up as the city faded away to the Indonesia countryside, a flat and broad plain that stretched out for miles. They passed over a muddy brown river where farmers pulled horse drawn carts across the bridge. His driver, an American working out of the embassy, honked his horn as he drove past the carts. Smiley tucked the files into his briefcase as the car approached a squat, two-story concrete building two miles from the river. The site served SHIELD as a safehouse. Under his orders, Barnes kept the three SHIELD agents under guard and awaiting his arrival. The car pulled up to the building. Smiley informed the driver to turn off the engine and wait there.

The warm climate hit Smiley hard when he got out the car. The humid air created a film of sweat between his back and shirt that made it stick to his shoulder blades. He wiped beads of sweat from his forehead and pressed the buzzer beside the safehouse door. He knew a camera from above watched him as he calmly waited for Barnes to recognize him and open up the steel reinforced door that kept people is as well as it kept people out.

It had been another long night. Brent Jackson had spent most of it pleading with Valentina, Bucky, and Stevenson that there had been some misunderstanding. He said he'd picked the folder up by accident at first. Then that he'd meant to pick it up and that he was going to hand it over to them the second they had landed in Tanjung Priok. Finally when it became clear that his excuses wouldn't make the slightest bit of difference he fell silent for the night.

Smiley had ordered Bucky to take the three of them out into the Indonesian countryside and to their credit Stevenson and Valentina had cooperated without complaint. They seemed to understand the drill. They were under suspicion by extension now and would have to jump through every hoop that Jackson did to prove they weren't dirty too.

It was a few hours into the afternoon when Smiley touched down in Indonesia. Barnes waited nervously in the confines of the two-story safehouse and watched the clock. He was anxious. With Tiger Shark dead, they needed to know how deep the rot went and every second they weren't privy to that information left them exposed. Jackson could have given HYDRA everything or scraps. That's what Smiley was on his way here to find out.

A wave of relief ran through Bucky as he heard the buzzer sound. He walked towards the front desk and glanced at the black and white screens. He smiled as he saw the Deputy Director on the doorstep to the safehouse wiping some sweat from his forehead. With a click of a button the fortified door opened up and gestured George inside.

"A three-piece suit in this weather?" Bucky grinned. "I admire your sartorial dedication if nothing else, sir."

"Clothes make the man," Smiley said as he and Barnes walked through the safehouse. "My congratulations on a job well done, James. Tiger Shark's suicide was not the desired outcome, but the action bore fruit. It got us on the offensive."

The entire first floor of the house served as a living space. Three bedrooms, a bath, and a kitchen with well-stocked cabinets and pantry could provide ample refuge for anyone needing to stay hidden for a prolonged amount of time. Smiley followed Barnes up a rickety flight of stairs to the second story. The top floor is where the safehouse showed its hand. The room to the right of the second-floor landing served as a makeshift communications center with radio and a computer. The room next to the communications center held couches and monitors where one could watch the feed from the security cameras in the house. Further down the hall were two interrogation rooms with two-way mirrors. At the far end of the hall were two rooms with large steel doors. These were cells where uninclined guests were put.

Fontaine and Stevenson sat in the interrogation rooms while Jackson occupied one of the locked cells. Barnes led Smiley into the room with the monitors and couches. He watched on the monitor as Stevenson and Fontaine nervously shifted in their chairs from inside the sweatboxes while Jackson slept soundly on a cot. Smiley observed the little differences between the three agents body language and what it said about each of them. He turned away from the monitor and placed his briefcase on a card table set up beside the monitors. He snapped it open and pulled out all his reading from the flight. The papers were copies, so he was free to highlight relevant passages and scribble notes in the margins. He thumbed through them and found what he wanted before looking at Barnes.

"Come with me, James."

They walked out into the hallway and towards the interrogation rooms. Smiley stared at the two suspected agents through the two-way glass. They looked close to how he had imagined, Stevenson's large frame even larger in person and Fontaine's beauty a bit marred by the stressful events she was currently under.

"I need you to only observe for now and make sure the interrogations are recorded in full. I don't foresee either one of them becoming violent, but if it comes to that you will have to step up. Pull up a chair, this may take some time."

--

For sixteen hours Smiley did his dance. To and from the two interrogation rooms, he went over every single aspect of the two agents careers with SHIELD, their personal history, and their role in the blown operations of the past. Smiley never once raised his voice of made anything even approaching a threat. Fontaine and Stevenson already knew the stakes, they did not need to be reminded. He went over their stories with them again and again and again and again. The pattern of long-term questioning emerged. Fear became annoyance, annoyance became outright hostility, the hostility faded to sadness and bargaining, and then finally the need to please. The last stage was always the hardest to work with. As the target's will broke down, they would confess to almost anything just to end the interrogation. Once that subservient stage passed, Smiley went over their stories once more to see what had changed in the ensuing hours.

He would let them take breaks, Barnes escorting them to the bathroom or getting them a glass of water, while he himself would go back through his documents to compare their testimonies with actual fact. Questions sprung out from questions, follow-ups to queries required their own follow-ups. The heat had started to get to Smiley after the first hour. He stripped off his coat, followed bu loosening his tie, then getting rid of it all together, then shucking his waistcoat. By the time it was over, he was down to his shirt with the sleeves rolled up past the elbows and a thick layer of sweat staining the white fabric.

Spent, physically and emotionally, Smiley finally reached a conclusion. He fixed a cup of tea while Barnes helped Fontaine and Stevenson out of the rooms. They both seemed to sag when they sat down on the plush couches in the adjacent to the rooms they spent the better part of a day in. Smiley stared at them over his cup, the steam from the tea fogging his glasses.

"First, let me apologize for the inconvenience I have caused you."

Stevenson let out a weak chortle. He seemed as if he was going to say something but gave up. He was much too tired for something even close to a witty comeback.

"Secondly, I deem you both as having a clean bill of health. Whatever Jackson was into, you two most certainly not."

The relief radiating from the two agents seemed to fill the room. He let them take a moment to enjoy the good news while he sipped his tea.

"After getting something to eat and a much-needed rest downstairs, Captain America shall escort you back to Washington. Director Fury may have his own questions, but he will have read my report by the time you get back and should be satisfied with my findings. I am afraid to say that your time in Jakarta is finished."

"What about our time in SHIELD?" Fontaine asked quietly. "We let a mole operate under our nose for over a year."

"These things happen," Smiley said simply. "You will probably have to serve some sort of punitive sentence, but I will do all in my power to see that it is short-lived. The two of you are wasted here in Jakarta. If you are as capable as you seem to be on paper, there is still a place for you in SHIELD. The new administration rewards good work with important work. Fury aims to run a meritocracy. If you two keep at it, you will find yourself finally doing important work in an important place."

Draining his tea, Smiley stood and shook the Stevenson and Fontaine's hands. He sat back down as Barnes led them downstairs. Smiley went back to his reading while he waited for Barnes to return. He looked up when he heard his footsteps on the stairs.

"They're asleep?"

When he got the confirmation from him, Smiley stood and looked down the hall towards the cell.

"I want you to burn copies of the interrogations of Fontaine and Stevenson on DVD and seal them in a pouch for transport to Washington. Take them with you on the flight back. Once you've done that, turn off the camera in Jackson's cell. The two of us need to have a private chat."

March 24th, 2005
07:13am

Sixteen long hours. Bucky had never seen anything like it. In the forties there wasn't the time for men to break their prisoners down like Smiley did, with words instead of violence, but it was every bit as difficult to watch. There was a directness to the kid of methods men once espoused that although brutal made it less mentally trying than the process Smiley put Stevenson and Fontaine through. Questions after questions, follow up questions, asking them to recall minute details of operations years past, and the dragging through of their personal and professional lives. Smiley picked at their tragedies and flaws until they weeped like an infected scab and unwittingly revealed something about themselves. That type of scrutiny could make a person long after a pair of pliers.

It was revealing to watch Stevenson and Fontaine under duress. There were things you only learned about a person when their back was against the wall and they had no way of escaping. Neither Stevenson or Fontaine seemed like sunshine patriots. They had both endured hardships that had them stashed away in Jakarta but neither chose to leave for the private sector where they could have made a small fortune. They stood their ground and fought. For themselves, for their careers, and for their countries. Bucky wondered how he might have fared subjecting to George's relentless questioning.

Once they appeared and Bucky had taken them both downstairs to sleep, George asked of him to remove the tape from Jackson's room. He knew with some men that meant the pliers were coming out but with Smiley it meant something different. They'd be talking about something George wanted kept out of the prying eyes of Washington. Though Bucky's part in this mission had all but come to an end he sensed that Smiley's work was far from done.

"I'll be downstairs," Bucky said tiredly to the Deputy Director. "Give me a holler if Jackson tries anything."

Smiley sat in silence as Brent Jackson ate a sandwich cross-legged on a cot. The cot and a steel toilet were the only accoutrements part of the cell, Smiley's metal chair coming from outside. In his lap was a selection of papers and files on Jackson and the whole mess. Jackson kept his head down as he ate, glancing up occasionally to see if Smiley was still watching him. He kept his hands resting on his paunch and watched the prisoner eat with half-closed eyelids.

"Whatever this is, it's all been a big mistake," Jackson said between bites.

He let the comment pass without adding to it. This was Smiley's style of interrogation. Lots of questioners liked to constantly talk and badger and bullied their subjects. Smiley let the silence work to his advantage. The man under scrutiny's mind raced in anticipation of what question was to come next and how to answer it, what to say and not say. The interrogator had just the one question, their mind cleared of nothing but the answers and the truths that even a blatant lie would reveal. Plenty chaffed under the long silences that went well past awkward.

"Hours before the operation to take in Tiger Shark, I sent a cable to your station." Smiley thumbed through papers until he found what he wanted. He passed it to Jackson to let him see the message.

"It was marked FLASH, for Captain America's eyes only. In the message, it says evidence has come to light that an agent inside SHIELD has been supplying Tiger Shark with classified intelligence. Documents identifying the double agent should be found on Tiger Shark's yacht. All documentation are to be handled by Captain America alone and sent back to Washington for review. Captain America, Fontaine, and Stevenson have no knowledge of this message coming in. We received confirmation from Jakarta Station that the message had been successfully received. You are communications officer for the station and you were found with those documents hidden on your person, Jackson."

Jackson stuttered and sputtered as he tried to grope for an excuse. Smiley let him twist in the wind. He cast aspersions on his fellow agents. Stevenson had intercepted the message, he said. He forced him to steal the documents or he would kill him. When Smiley asked how Stevenson bypassed the biometric passcode that locked SHIELD communications devices, he said he was forced at gunpoint to read the message and gave it to Stevenson.

"It wasn't me, you see. It was always--"

The next papers Smiley handed him stopped Jackson cold. It was a surveillance photo of an Indonesian woman and a small child. Further photos showed Jackson behind them, catching up to them, taking the child in his arms.

"These photos were found on Tiger Shark's yacht. As was a ledger detailing payments to an unknown Swiss bank account. Cross-referenced to SHIELD's operations against Tiger Shark's pirate network, each payment took place within two days of some misfortunate development in the hunt for the man. A routine computer check by Indonesian national police discovered withdrawal of those funds from the computer of the woman in the photo. Brent, does your wife in Virginia know about your second family here in Jakarta and what you do to support them?"

Smiley took off his glasses and cleaned them against his shirt. When he slid them back on, he saw Jackson's face was a pale green. He was searching for something to say, some way to deny what was the cold, hard truth. He looked close to puking the sandwich he just finished. Smiley handed him a napkin in case he couldn't keep the bile down.

"Do you have children, Mr. Smiley?" Jackson asked once the moment passed.

"No," Smiley said without any emotion. "It's for the best, I'm afraid. Me or my ex-wife were never parent material."

"It's hard to support a wife and three children on a government salary, and then... my loved ones here in Jakarta. Tiger Shark came to me with the photos of me and them and threatened to send them to my wife bac home. He threatened me with exposure and offered me money to help him avoid SHIELD capture. The stuff in Yemen... I had no idea it would happen."

Smiley's thoughts were on Ann. She had once said that coercion was a myth. The things we did were of our own accord, all coercion did was to give one an excuse to do or not do whatever it was that was in their heart's desire. Jackson's infidelity was his flaw, his need to be the perfect husband and father, was as much to blame as Tiger Shark's thuggish methods.

"Under normal circumstances," Smiley said after a long pause. "You would be thrown into a deep, dark hole somewhere and would never see the light of day again. But the circumstances here are not anywhere near approaching normal. You will continue to work for SHIELD, you will be transferred to another part of the world where you will have access to classified material. Eventually someone will come calling, someone above Tiger Shark in the HYDRA hierarchy. You will report it directly to me and you will in effect become a triple agent, feeding HYDRA disinformation created by me. It's either work for me or dying in prison, Brent."

Smiley leaned forward, placing his hands on his knees. Jackson wiped his mouth with the napkin he'd been given and seemed to be on the verge of making a decision. Smiley stood with the bundle of files under his arm. He looked down at Jackson. If they were face to face, the man would tower over him. But here in this cell with him on the cot, Smiley loomed large over Jackson. It was as much mental as it was physical.

"I'll do it," Jackson finally said.

Smiley nodded and left the cell without another word.

March 20^th, 2005
12:00 PM
Metropolis

---

”This just in with Channel 4 Breaking News in Downtown Metropolis. A scene of chaos has developed outside the Metropolis Children's Museum where a group of armed individuals have stormed the building and taking the occupants inside hostage. Sources say these criminals are asking for 10 Million and noncompliance will only result in the deaths of those inside......

An entire city halted by the tremendous shadow of fear and doubt. Men and women glued to their televisions screens and listening to their radios. Across the city and country people watch in horror looking down upon the scene from the viewpoint of the news helicopters like gods on high unable to stop the world below them. They watched, shuddered and prayed hoping that the facade would crack and that they would wake up from the terrible dream they were in. Nobody would go that low would they? Would they really harm hurt a bunch of kids?

While the world on the outside reacts in horror in the inside there is only fear. Entire groups of children were backed against walls and in corners looking down the barrel of assault rifles, of death as the blood of the security guards slowly leaks on the tile floor each individual white square slowly becoming crimson. Some among the teachers and employees are crying, crying because it isn't fair, and it's true nobody wants to die. Though many more are reaching out to the children that surround them, to the tiny faces with big innocent eyes trying to give them at least some form of comfort in their final hours.

But something is strange here, these children do not need comfort. They are perfectly calm and resolute and instead they are the ones finding the resolve in the moment. It is because they know something that the others don't. A shared whisper that seemed to circulate the building and radiate outwards to all those young faces watching the events unfold, a whisper that became a comment, a comment that became their words of comfort to their parents and elders. Three Words that had been spoken before and would be spoken again but somehow every time carried the hopes of an entire world upon their shoulder. Superman was coming.

He had appeared after the tragic events of September 11^th, rising from the ashes of a changed America in a time where America needed heroes again. A beacon of hope to keep the darkness at bay. Ever since then “Superman” had become a household name in Metropolis and the greater world. For he came at the most opportune time, as a new hero for the resurgent America in a time of great patriotic fever and unity. The children followed his every action on the television news as if he was some great sports hero instead of an alien crimefighter. Slack Jawed and wide eyed they watched him soar across the world fighting for truth and justice and always making sure the bad guys lost. They didn't have to be scared anymore because instead they could be inspired and awed.

Parents and adults weren't deemed for these childish fantasies either. It was impossible not to be swapped up in the fervor of it all with the news, reporters and seemingly all their co-workers portraying the man in blue like he was the second coming. After their children would do some death defying stunt or try and punch out the schoolyard bully in the name of justice, after rempemeninding them in front of their betters once back in the safety of their own cars or homes the smile would crack and they would ask. Trying to be Superman again?

To the children though he was the perfect hero, he could do anything. If they could just be superman for just one moment of time, they could do anything. So they knew that at any moment he would come and make the bad guys wish that they never woke up in the morning.

The adults were understandably more cynical.The news always blew things out of proportion, they made it all appear bigger and more magnificent to tell a better story. They knew the truth, that their was no knights in shining armor and heroes no matter if they could fly or punch a hole through the air, they were still decidedly human. And most importantly of all they remember. They remember when they were young and they had their own heroes, they remembered the Justice Society and their position of the old beacons of hope in the world and those older remembered the likes of Captain America fighting the shadows of the Third Reich. But where had they gone? Where were they when they needed them the most, when their friend was killed or that bank was robbed? They were gone.... because they abandoned them like everybody else.

So they look on with fear in their hearts as they know how the score will settle. They are scared because they couldn't possibly feel the change in air currents and notice the startled birds; because they couldn't see a blue streak racing high above the clouds from halfway across the sky. They couldn't see that this streak was a singular man with a determined expression upon his face; nor could they know that with superhuman sight and hearing he had already knew the locations of all the gunmen inside the museum and he already had a plan.

He was only one man.

But one man was enough.

Superman was coming.

---

Clark did not flinch as he hit into the roof of the Children’s Museum punching a man sized hole through the roof. The hostages flinched and pulled away at the sudden noise and the man of steel was upon their assailants before they could react. There were six in total and he moved towards the one watching the hostages first as Clark came down from the ceiling atop of him feet first. Clark could hear the sternum crack under the pressure as he feet made contact. He spun around quickly as the five others moved to return fire. He acted first leaping to the right taking the hostages out of the cone of fire. Fingers hit the trigger as soon as he landed and a wave of 7.62x39 ammunition came to meet him.

He began to walk to meet them in the middle. They almost tickled as they made contact as the faces of the hostage takers grew with fear as they unloaded round after round into Clark to no effect. He reached the lead man and wrapped a hand around the barrel of the assault rifle and in one jerking motion pulled him forward by it, driving a palm into his head and sending him flying across the room before hitting the ground. He was lucky that Clark had the decency to pull his punches or else his head would of came clean off. Two more charged on either side and as they were about to smash their rifles against his head, he shot up into the air. Already in movement the forward momentum of their swings and in such close proximity the two hit one another yelling out in pain as they collapsed on the ground in a pile.

One of the two remaining had swung his gun over towards the hostages but before he could shoot, hands suddenly started burning as the metal became scorching to the touch as a heatray from across the room made contact. He landed in front of the last man and very simply took a deep breath and breathed on the man and the force alone propelled him several feet before he slammed into an installation about simple physics and dropped. All in all less than four minutes had passed since he had crashed through the roof and it was already over.

A hushed silence had fallen over the area outside of the museum. They heard gunshots and screams but they couldn't get contact from the inside. They all waited with baited breath as the seconds passed by and nothing happened. A sign of movement, the whole crowd gasped as the door swung open. SWAT raised their guns and trained them on the door as it fully but as it did there was no moans of horrors but cheers resounding through the crowd at the sight in front of them. Children and teachers walking out of the museum in big groups, parents rushing over the police barrier to find their kids as a collective sigh held across the nation had been released. Now the cameras did not focus on the building but on the man in the center of the crowd that all the children seemed to be flocking around. Superman.

And for a moment, the darkness was gone.

"Whoa," Nancy Thompson said as she came into view of Hellboy. It wasn't a fearful statement, however. She was more in awe of him than anything. Hellboy liked kids. They didn't have the jaded preconceived notions of how the world was supposed to be. There tended to be less fear when dealing with him. There was still a wonder in their spirits that allowed them to take him for what he was, rather than what they wanted him to be. "You're kinda badass."

"More than kinda," he smiled wryly. "Sorry for all the secrecy and taking you out of your place. I know tonight, and the past few days, wasn't easy for you."

This girl, in the span of a few days, had lost her best friend and her boyfriend. Still, Hellboy had to admit she was holding up better than anyone should have been in her predicament. She looked more defiant than anything.

"Yea, well, when you friend said you had a way to kill this fucker, I wasn't going to pass it up," she stood with clenched fists. "This is all my parents' fault. Well, all our parents. And now Glen and Tina are dead. If Freddy's gonna come after me too, I want to fry the bastard."

Oh yea, this was Hellboy's kind of kid.

"Kid, I think we're gonna get along," Red chuckled. "Wanna know the plan?"

"Hell yea," she nodded.

Liz entered the room, a small shack, not unlike Freddy's, on the school grounds. It was musty and dirty, but away from a populated center, which would be necessary to complete the plan.

From his belt, Hellboy pulled a small vial, "This is a potion of shared dreaming. You and I will drink it, and we'll enter each others' dreams. This will be crucial, as Freddy is definitely going to come after you, and I'll be there to give him hell. Once we interact with him, Liz here is going to wake us up. Freddy's powers and kills clearly indicate he strattles the line between the real world and the dream world. Because of that, if I wake up holding onto him in the dream, I can pull him back into the real world."

"Yea, I did it with his hat," Nancy nodded. This chick was tough. "But what happens when we bring him back?"

"That's where I come in." Nancy turned to Liz, who was now completely covered in pyrokinetic flame. She burned a luminescent blue in front of the two of them. "My fire is hot. It's melted away worse than Freddy Kruger before. He won't stand a chance."

"We'll run, lock Liz and Freddy in the shack," Hellboy nodded. "Liz will send him back to Hell, and we get to watch a pretty light show. I wish I had my Pink Floyd records."

"Well, what are we waiting for?" Nancy asked.

Hellboy shrugged and uncorked the potion and took a swig before handing it to her, "See you on the other side, kid."

Hub City
March 22
20:15

Hub City was a filth hole. Most would consider Gotham the country's most dangerous city, but that's only because it was bigger, more prominent in national news, and had the Batman jumping around its rooftops. Hub City easily gave it a run for its money. A sister city of Detroit, Hub had been hit even harder than the Motor City after the collapse of the US auto industry. Detroit at least still had all the corporate headquarters to keep it aloft. Hub City, on the other had, was a blue collar town. It had built some of the greatest cars in America history. Now its major exports were crime, corruption, and drugs. It was a cesspool of human depravity, and no one really seemed to give a shit. They turned a blind eye while they focused on other things. Decaying buildings lined most blocks, and neighborhoods were more like demilitarized zones than places people wanted to live. The good people of Hub City, thought few and far between, tried to eek out a meager existence.

Steph had no idea why Question bothered with this place. There were some places that were truly beyond saving, and Hub City was one of them. But he was here, and she needed his help, so she was here too.

Her motorcycle pulled up outside a rusted, vacant looking row of storage units. This is where Question had told her to meet him, but she was starting to get suspicious. Could SHIELD have gotten to him and convinced him to help? He wasn't the biggest fan of the government, so she hoped that wasn't the case. It was still in her mind, however. She knew it would be for a good long while. That was the life she chose when she ran. She had mentally prepared herself for that.

From a few doors down, she heard one of the creaky metal doors shudder and begin to lift. From inside stepped the Question. He was taller than her by an inch or two, with a tuft of black hair peaking out of a trilby hat. A tattered, long, blue trenchcoat hung off his shoulders, and he wore black, leather gloves. His most obvious defining feature, however, was that he had no face. Well, he had a face of course, but it was hidden under a special mask he had obtained. He motioned for Steph to bring the motorcycle inside, which she did.

"You're late," he grumbled. From his voice and demeanor, Steph had theorized he was about thirty-five to forty years old. He was far too world-weary to be any younger, even for Hub City.

"By like fifteen minutes," she looked at him unamused.

"Still. Late," he mumbled.

He walked further into the storage area, and realized he had made the entire row into an operations base. The inside was much, much nicer than the outside betrayed. She had to admit she was slightly impressed, "Nice place."

"Thanks," he responded, though not really meaning it. "Purchased it at a steal, though everything in Hub City can be purchased for a steal."

"That's what they say."

"They're right," he sighed. "Now, why you're here."

"Yea, you said you needed some help with something? Then you'd give me a lead on HYDRA?"

He grumbled and nodded in agreement before walking over to a map of the city filled with push pins and annotations. He sat down at one and and pointed at the docks, "Here. The docks. The only company that still uses them is Roxxon Energy."

"That makes no sense," Steph shook her head. "Roxxon would have no need to deliver shipments to Hub. It's not a distribution center or and export center."

"Exactly," he nodded, clearly pleased with himself. "All my digging turned up nothing, but that's because the officials in this city are in Roxxon's deep pockets. Not hard to believe considering their monetary standing."

That was an understatement. Roxxon was the world's leading oil provider. They had their hands in every leading energy field save for Stark's clean energy arc reactor technology. They had a stranglehold on the market and more politicians in Washington than you could count. Still, while they may be morally reprehensible for their continued pollution of the environment, Steph wasn't sure they were really doing anything overtly nefarious.

"I dunno, Question," she looked at him sideways. "It's weird, but why do you think this is something I need to look after? I mean, Roxxon is powerful. I don't need more of the government after me than I already do."

"Because I saw AIM on those very docks as well," he said bluntly.

That changed everything.

"I'll look into it."

March 20th, 2005
New York City, Chinatown
10:24 PM

As he and the White Tiger leaped from rooftop to rooftop, Danny couldn't help but feel pensive and distracted. Professor Wing's explanations had finally put a name to his family's murderers and given him real clarity of purpose for the first time in what felt like forever. At the same time though, they had raised a whole new host of questions. If Khan was still real and active in the world then why hadn't he been informed of the existence of such a dangerous enemy? Surely his teacher Lei-Kung would not have wanted to send him to the mortal world unprepared, and his uncle the Yu-Ti would have informed him of such a grave threat to K'un-Lun and the mortal realms alike. So why-

White Tiger brought his attention back to the matter at hand: finding the Cult. There were only five entities in New York City that he was aware of that might have knowledge of where to find such a dark and secretive entity. Chiantang was one, but getting to him would require fighting through an army of experienced guards and he doubted the Black Dragon would be in a cooperative mood anyways. The Sorcerer Supreme was right out, obviously. K'un-L'un might maintain good relations with the magical community, but ever since his own tutelage on magic had concluded Danny dreaded knocking on the door of Strange unless it was absolutely necessary. Elder Brother Shang might possibly know, but since the reemergence of HYDRA yesterday Danny had been unable to contact him. That left two options as actually usable...neither of which he was particularly fond of and both of which would cost him...dearly.

"The way I see it we have two-"

Danny froze for a moment as a cold shiver went up his spine and tugged at all of his alarm bells. He knew this dreadful feeling, knew he had sensed a dark disturbance in the qi, a big one. He scanned around for the source and a few moments later White Tiger did the same, picking up on the faint sounds of many feet landing on rooftops all around them.

They were most definitely being followed, and Danny's plans for finding the Cult of Khan didn't matter anymore.

Because the Cult of Khan had found them.

---

They came sailing out of the night to land around the pair in a circle, assassins all in black though decidedly human and armed with weapons that looked like they were cut from the nighttime shadows themselves. That was no big deal to Danny, mysterious assassin attacks were a dime a dozen in the martial arts world although the feel of their various weapons made his skin crawl.

But then he saw their eyes.

they were black empty pits reflecting only the abyss, horribly, unnaturally dilated til there was barely a trace of white like the eyes of a shark or an inhuman doll. No human should ever have eyes like that but from their lips came the drone of human, voices rusty with disuse but human all the same:



they chanted it ceaselessly without stopping for breath as they inched closer and closer, blank black eyes emotionless except for a bizarre, dull glimmer of ecstasy as they readied their weapons.

Danny shook off his sense of unease and fell into an aggressive stance as he prepared himself for the first true step on his path to revenge.

"Don't let their weapons touch you, and if you can try and take one...well, I think they're still alive but anyway try and capture o-"

He froze again, this time in true terror.

Because what had just stepped past the circle of fanatic killers had eyes far more terrifying than the cavernous black orbs of the cultists.

They were the eyes that had been a feature of Danny Rand's nightmares for ten long years. They were eyes that brought him back to six years old, freezing and alone on an unforgiving mountainside with the stench of blood in the air, too tired and cold to cry anymore.

The were eyes of the wolves that had devoured his mother.

The creature that stepped into view had the silver-gray fur and predatory features of a mountain wolf, but the body was too similar to that of a human and moved with a strange loping bipedal gait as its clawed feet dug into the rooftop with each step. A palpable cold like an Himalayan wind radiated from its' body forming frost on the roof as it came towards them, and from its slavering jaws a voice with far too much of a beast's growl to be human tore forth:

"RRRRRRRRRRAAND'KAI! We have hunted you Rrrand'Kai, acrrross the yearrrrs, acrrross this city, acrrross the worrrlds! We will DRRRRINK your life's blood as We drrrrank your Motherrr's. Then, this agonizing existence will end. Khan has prrromised us this."

Then the wolf demon leaped past the swiftly closing assassins, its fangs bared and aiming for his throat...

...and Danny Rand, living weapon and champion of K'un-L'un, was suddenly just a child paralyzed by fear.

Triskelion
Washington D.C.
March 25th, 2005
20:22 Local Time

Nick Fury leaned back in his chair as he read the report Smiley handed him the second he walked into the director's office. The document, compiled by Smiley on the flight from Jakarta, contained the entire narrative of Operation Fish Fry from start to finish. Smiley dictated the typing to Stevenson who, despite his large frame and even larger hands, was a swift typist. Smiley always reverted to chicken pecking when it came to working a keyboard and preferred to have someone else do the writing. The report was finished and ready for Fury's consumption before their flight even touched down in Germany for their brief layover.

Fury laid the papers on his desk and picked an unlit cigar up. Despite the numerous no smoking signs, Fury always walked around the headquarters with a stub of a cigar clenched between his teeth. The director waited until his cigar was lit before speaking.

"Really would have liked to have Tiger Shark come in alive."

"As would I, but a man prepared to take his own life is a man who will not be turned or provide information."

Fury grunted and went back to the report on his desk.

"And Jackson? Are you confident he'll be committed to our side?"

"He sold out his country for blackmail and pocket change," Smiley said with a small cough. He felt a cold coming on. The extensive travel of the past few days had taken its toll. "We have him dead to rights, Nicholas. Jackson will sell his soul to keep out of prison."

Fury stood and walked to a shelf behind his desk. He took a bottle of scotch and two glasses from the shelf and placed them on the desk.

"What about the two agents involved with Jackson, Fontaine and Stevenson? You gave them a clean bill of health, but they still let a double agent operate under their nose."

"I poured over their entire history and both of them are top quality. They were wasted in Jakarta and deserve a chance to work somewhere that matters."

With the cigar still in his mouth, Fury poured two glasses of scotch and slid one across the table to Smiley.

"Well I have news on my front. The Yemen end of this op came out successful, our assets in the country were able to stabilize the situation and prevent a coup. All around a successful op. We sent a message to the bastards and let them know we won't take it lying down. Cheers."

They clinked glasses and took long swigs from the glasses. The scotch warmed Smiley's throat and chest and seemed to help the congestion he felt coming on. The liquor felt good on another level. Fury was right that it wasn't perfect, but they killed a HYDRA agent, turned a double agent to their side, and stopped a revolutionary coup in the Middle East. For the first time in almost twenty years, Smiley felt accomplishment.

"The Senate has set a date for your confirmation hearing. Since it's in the realm of intelligence, the hearings will be closed to the public. No grandstanding, but the bastards will go over your history with a fine tooth comb. Are you prepared for that?"

"I did the same to your agents yesterday, Nicholas. I would not subject that to someone if I myself were not prepared to endure it."

"I have faith in you," Fury said with a wink. "They won't know what hit them, the poor bastards. Welcome back to the Game, George."

Smiley finished off his drink and placed it on the desk. He thought of Peter Guilliam's warning from a few days earlier. Eyes were on him from all sides. Every step or move he would make would be subject to scrutiny from America's enemies and allies. He had to play a deeper ruse within and outside SHIELD. It was imperative to play it so that he kept everyone guessing, even those closest to him. That was the only way for his plan to dismantle HYDRA to work. The spy agencies of the world didn't know it, but the thing they feared most had come to pass. George Smiley was back in his element, and he was sharper than ever.

Date unknown, 2005
Time unknown

Carol Danvers had fought long and hard as she flew through the underground caverns of Arthoros in search of Green Lantern Amanita’s ring. The hordes of insectoids were seemingly endless and for every one she batted back with a construct another two would hurtle in her direction. It was exhausting work. She lost all track of time beneath the ground as she pushed deeper and deeper into the caverns. Amanita’s ring was nowhere to be found. By the time Danvers had realised it she was too deep in the caverns to turn back. The only way out was by pushing through. At least that was what Carol had thought. The further she pushed the more voluminous the horde. Finally in the pit of the cavern, so near to the planet’s core that she could almost feel it throbbing, Carol fell to a knee and made her final stand. Dripping in sweat she made construct after construct. The green Gatling gun in her hands rattled loudly as it fired construct bullets at the insectoids. There was a sudden pain in the back of the Green Lantern’s head and the world went black.

Then she heard it. The voice. It cut through the blackness and sounded like nails on a chalkboard as the words came hissing out. “Awaken, Green Lantern.”

Slowly Carol’s eyes opened. The first thing that struck her was the dull pain in the back of her head. She could feel a patch of her blonde hair had become caked in blood at the back. The cut reopened slightly with each breath she took. She wasn’t sure where she was but it was much cooler here than it had been when she’d been knocked out. It was a dwelling of sorts that had been fashioned out of an alcove in the caverns. It was the closest thing that Carol had seen to some kind of design that resembled something one might have found back on Earth. It the corner of the dwelling was a figure that Carol struggled to make out barring the bright green eyes that were fixed on her.

Carol cleared her throat a little and called out to it. “Who are you?”

The figure stepped forward from the shadows. It was one of the insectoids that lived in the caverns but this one was different. The figure was taller, stronger, more metallic, and exuded an air of malice that was unmistakable. All deep, dark purples and greens barring the yellow tendrils that hung from around its neck like an Anglerfish. It stepped forward several paces and stopped in front of Carol.

“I am Annihilus.”

“You abducted those Lanterns,” Carol muttered as she noticed the Green Lantern ring on one of Annihilus’ claws. “You murdered Amanita and stole his ring.”

A mocking laugh escaped from the insectoids lips as he stared down at Carol. Were she not shackled to the wall of Annihilus’ dwelling she would have throttled him right there and then. She tried to communicate with her ring non-verbally but something was wrong with it. It wasn’t out of energy but it felt as if somehow Annihilus had found some way to interfere with Carol’s connection to her ring. Something resembling a grin appeared on Annihilus’ face as he sensed that Carol was attempting to reach her ring.

“Were it only so simple,” Annihilus screeched, turning his back on the Green Lantern. “Blastaar has enslaved my people, Lantern, crushed the mewling babes beneath his feet like they were no better than vermin and scorched our homes to the ground. One by one the planets of the Negative Zone fell to him and now only Arthoros stands. That is not by coincidence, terran, but because my people have resorted to whatever means necessary to ensure our survival.”


“I make no excuses for apologies for abducting your Lantern brethren,” He continued as he reached out a claw for Carol’s ring rested atop a platform made out of rock. “We sought to harness the power of their vaunted power rings to beat Blastaar back once and for all. My people were peaceful once, Lantern, though it might be hard to believe in this moment. Being driven to the point of extinction has changed that. Once I unlock the power of the power ring I shall take back all of the Negative Zone.”

A rage bubbled in Carol’s stomach as the insectoid spoke and she pulled at her shackles desperately. She hadn’t even considered what she’d had done once she was free or how she’d have fought Annihilus without her ring. Carol stared down at her legs. Her construct prosthetics had gone but Annihilus seemed oblivious to the fact. Carol however was not. She needed her ring back. Sinestro could not find out about her secret. She’d find a way to get her ring back, defeat Annihilus, and take Amanita’s ring back from him.

“You can’t use it.” Carol said as she gestured towards the ring on Annihilus’ finger. “Amanita’s ring won’t answer to you.”

Once more the sickening laugh came forth from Annihilus’ mouth. “I would not be so certain.”

There was a crackle of green energy and the ring on his finger burst into life for the briefest of seconds. It was only a spark, half a spark even, but it was far more than Annihilus ought to have been able to summon up. He wasn’t a Green Lantern and as far as Amanita’s ring was concerned its wielder was not dead. How had Annihilus found a way to bypass the Green Lantern protocols? It wasn’t possible.

Annihilus tried again to spark up Amanita’s ring. “We could never have defeated two Green Lanterns at once, not ones as experienced as you and the pink skin, but alone… Alone you were weak. Your power comes in numbers, Lantern, though I am thankful your ignorance to that fact has delivered to me exactly what I needed.”

“Needed?” Carol muttered, a confused look appearing on her face. “What? I don’t understand.”

“With your power battery I shall recharge this ring,” Annihilus said as he produced a power battery from behind the platform. “My will is like no other, Lantern, I shall force your weapon to heel and use it to destroy the pink skinned one, Blastaar, and anyone else that might stand in my way.”

It was another thing that made no sense. Had Annihilus forced Carol to conjure up a power battery whilst she was unconscious? How else could he have got it? Carol shook her head vociferously as her head began to spin with the possibilities. Suddenly her confusion turned to complete and utter disbelief as the sparks of energy that bounced from Amanita’s ring on Annihilus’ finger suddenly turned into a tidal wave. The room lit up with a burst of green energy that Carol recognised as the very same she wielded using her Green Lantern ring. A cackle escaped from Annihilus ring and he turned his piercing green gaze in her direction.

“You I shall save until last.”