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DISCLAIMER

1) This material is not used for monetary profit in any manner.  It is
done solely for enjoyment purposes, and as homage to the great stories
and characters of Marvel Comics Group

2)  All  the  characters,  events,  and locations portrayed within are
recognized as property of Marvel Comics Group should they so wish.

3)  This  story  has been written by Samy Merchi <samerc@mash.yok.utu.fi>.  Any
commentary  in  the  form  of compliments or critique is welcomed, and
eagerly hoped for.  So go ahead and drop me a line telling me what you
thought, okay?  It'll make my day.  ;)
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                            THE TWELVE #5

                            "Double Doors"
                                  or
                       "Step Into My Parlor..."
                               or even
                       "Calm Before The Storm"

                         WRITER: Samy Merchi
                       EDITOR-IN-CHIEF: Kingbob

   With  a loud, protestive slam, the double doors slammed shut behind
Amara  Juliana Olivians Aquilla.  She hardly noticed the sound, as she
strode onwards along the dank, dark tunnel.  Burning torches set every
fifty  feet  or so had briefly flickered from the outdoors breeze that
had  blown into the tunnel when Amara had entered.  But now, the doors
were  closed  again,  and  the  tunnel was sheltered from the whipping
winds outside.
   About  her,  Amara  wore  a  tunic of white and bright yellow, like
blazing  white-hot  lava.   A hood was drawn over her head, to conceal
her  long,  blonde  locks under it, and her visage - almost godlike in
its  beauty  -  hidden  in shadows.  The tapping of her sandals on the
hard  rock  echoed off the tunnel walls, as she headed deeper into the
caverns,  her  posture  strong and proud as ever, her determination as
steadfast as one could imagine of legends.
   Up  ahead,  sounds became audible after a few minutes of journeying
along  the  tunnel, but Amara appeared to pay them no heed.  She moved
onwards,  towards  them, and they gradually increased in volume as she
approached.
   Finally,  after a few more minutes, Amara began seeing light at the
end  of  the  tunnel,  and knew her journey was almost at an end.  The
voices  still  grew  in  intensity,  and  she noticed they were angry,
furious  voices.   Her  eyes  narrowed  a  bit,  and her pace hastened
unconsciously, until she finally stood at the end of the tunnel.
   Before Amara, a cavern spread.  It was the size of a small mansion,
and  lit  all over with various torches, candles and braziers.  In the
middle,  there was a statue, a homage to her mother, the immortal moon
goddess  Selene.   Her  eyes  fixed on the statue for a while, and her
thoughts drifted backwards in time.
   For almost two thousand years, according to the not-unreliable Hall
of  Records'  archives,  which Amara often perused, Selene had resided
here,  in  Nova  Roma.  No one knew why she had come, or where she had
come  from,  and those daring enough to ask, often found a quick death
at  the  hands  of  the  goddess.   No  one challenged her, and no one
questioned  her.   She  was law in Nova Roma, and what she wanted, she
got.
   Almost  thirty years ago, the young and adventurous Lucius Antonius
Aquilla  was  caught  within  the spell of Selene.  Not literally, but
metaphorically.   Upon  having  met her personally, his heart had been
stolen,  and  his  mind  filled  with thoughts of the goddess.  He had
embarked  on a perilous test of ten challenges, which Selene presented
for him.  If he would pass them, he would have the right to court her.
   In  all  the  two  thousand  years Selene had resided in Nova Roma,
records  only showed that she had taken a mate among the people twice.
Now, Lucius Aquilla was trying to become the third.  And he succeeded,
passing  all  ten  challenges  like  a  true hero.  He and Selene were
married on midsummer night, under the full moon.
   Over  a  decade later, it was found out that Selene was with child.
This  was  something  which had never happened to her according to any
records  Amara  had  found.   Soon, the child had been born, and named
Amara  Juliana Olivians Aquilla.  The first child of Selene to be born
in Nova Roma's history - the offspring of man and goddess.
   Today,  Amara  was a young woman, closer to two decades than one in
age,  and  she knew she was indeed something special.  And she did not
ignore  that  fact.   She  was a demigoddess, someone far superior not
only to the peasantry, but to any and all people in the city, with the
exception of her Mother.
   And  she  did  not  like at all the fact that Darkchilde thought of
herself as Amara's equal.  Amara had no equals.  Darkchilde was human.
Amara  was not.  And one day, like she had been before, she would once
again be Selene's only child.
   "FOOL!"
   The  voice  snapped  Amara's attention back to the present, and she
let  her  observation of the cavern go on.  To the left of the statue,
there  was  a  group of people, facing away from her, towards the back
wall  of  the  cavern where in front of a throne, as if just stood up,
stood her Mother.  Selene.
   In  front of Selene, on the ground, lay someone Amara did not know.
A  man, with long, raven-black hair and clothing such as she had never
seen  before.   It  was  almost  as if the man's skin was living metal
itself,  laced  with  odd-shaped  parts  that  seemed  not  to be even
ornamentation,  but serving some purpose.  The man lay on the floor in
front of Selene, as if just having been struck down.
   "I  do  not  tolerate failure easily, Scalphunter!" Selene snarled,
and  with a quick motion, the very floor under the man rose and molded
around him, to bring him upright and hold him in place.  Selene's hand
grabbed  the man's throat, and ripped him off the rock, holding him in
the  air  before  her.   "Is that understood??" she continued, staring
into his eyes viciously.
   Scalphunter   coughed   blood,   in   an  attempt  to  speak.   "It
wasn't...our  fault..." he gasped and tried to breathe, but largely in
vain.  "It was...a stranger...magician..."
   "The  Shaman",  came  a  voice from Selene's left, and Amara's eyes
narrowed  there.  The child Tarot.  She was sitting at a table, to the
side of the cavern, on the opposite side from the gathering of others,
near  the  right  wall  from where Amara was standing.  "He will be an
obstacle", Tarot continued, placing a card softly down onto the table,
and  reaching  for  another.  Turning it around, she placed it down as
well,  and  her  shy  eyes  rose  to  meet Selene.  "He will also be a
blessing."   The   tone   was  unassuming,  her  behavior  simple  and
unobtrusive as usual.  She was a tool.  Nothing more, nothing less.
   For  a  moment,  Selene  looked at Tarot, as if evaluating what the
card-reader's words might contain, how she could figure out the puzzle
behind  them.   Then,  her fingers loosened, and Scalphunter fell down
onto  the  stony floor with a gasp, a desperate intake of air.  Selene
paid  him no attention, instead starting to walk towards Tarot.  "Tell
me, child - where is the Shaman now?"
   Taking a card with smooth, silent motions, Tarot placed it onto the
table,  her eyes once again downcast to read it.  "Somewhere new", she
said,  and drew another card to get more detail.  "Somewhere between."
Another  card.   "Two  of  you..."  Her  eyes  rose  to look up at the
gathering of the Lethal Legion across the room.  "...have been there."
Yet another card.  "Fighting two warriors."
   Scrambler and Vertigo glanced at each other, and the Korean bit his
lip  nervously,  hoping he wouldn't soon be getting the same treatment
as Scalphunter for his failure.  Vertigo's thoughts ran much along the
same track.
   Her voice a quiet almost-whisper, Tarot continued laying down cards
and  interpreting  them.   After  several  ones,  she stated the final
result.   "Camp  Verde,  Arizona."  She  didn't  look  up, didn't meet
Selene's  or  anyone's eyes, just sat there silently, like the machine
she thought herself to be, waiting to be used next.
   "Eavesdropping?"
   Amara  jumped,  startled by the voice right beside her.  She flared
up, becoming a being of molten Magma, heat and light radiating off her
like from a small star.
   With a light chuckle, the Darkchilde backed off from Amara to avoid
being  incinerated by the heat, but her taunting expression never once
left  her  face.  "Why Amara!  I would never have thought that someone
of  your stature would have to reduce themselves to listening from the
shadows..." Her voice carried that familiar edge of sarcastic teasing,
challenging Amara to do something, attack her.
   But,  Amara  never  did.   Because  she knew that - at the moment -
Selene  was  well-disposed towards her 'sister'.  But, Amara would one
day  turn  the tables around, and then...  Then, the Darkchilde's hide
would be worth less than the lowliest slave's...
   The  commotion at the mouth of the tunnel had not gone unnoticed by
the  Lethal  Legion, but they had been assuaged by Selene herself, who
had  also  turned  to  watch  the  spectacle  Amara  made  of herself.
"Daughter,  calm down", she commanded in her regal yet icy tone, which
indicated that if she did not, Selene would -make- her power down.
   Amara  growled  viciously at the Darkchilde, who had caused this to
happen,  caused  Selene  to  get  irritated  at her.  Nonetheless, she
powered down, returning to her human, bright-tuniced form, and stepped
out  of  the  tunnel,  and  into  the cavern.  "Mother", she nodded to
Selene  respectfully,  ignoring  everyone  else.   They were below her
station, after all.  But then again, who wasn't?
   "Mother",  echoed  the  Darkchilde as she entered as well, her tone
only  a hair's-breadth from turning the word into a sarcastic comment,
playing  on the edge of pushing Selene one step too far.  But, she had
been  dancing  on  that  very  border  for  years now.  She was -very-
skilled at it.  She wore her usual amused smile as she walked into the
cavern,  and  let  her eyes linger on the Lethal Legion, studying them
with intensity unnoticed from her expression.
   Selene  nodded  to  her daughters in return.  "Amara.  Darkchilde."
Turning away from Tarot, deciding the reading was over for the moment,
she  stepped towards the Lethal Legion, and motioned towards them.  "I
do  not  believe  you  two  have  met  the Lethal Legion", she stated,
knowing perfectly well that they hadn't.
   With  a  superior  expression, Amara briefly nodded to the killers,
her  chin  lifted  in  a  haughty  manner.   "Outworlders", she stated
coldly,  without  a  hint of doubt in her voice.  Amara wasn't stupid.
Not  that  much  intelligence was needed to realize what she had said.
"Why are they here?"
   Unable to restrain a slight smile, Selene stepped over to her first
daughter,  and  placed  a  hand  onto  her shoulder.  Sometimes, Amara
reminded  her  so  much  of  herself.   But she had to learn patience.
Patience  and  subtlety.   Two  fields  where  she was sorely lacking.
"They  are  my...-guests-,  Amara",  she  explained  with  a  tinge of
amusement  into her tone.  "I hope you have no problem with that?" Her
tone  was  completely  and thoroughtly warm and motherly, but everyone
present knew it was nothing but an elaborate facade.
   "No",  Amara  quickly replied, swallowing nervously, not wanting to
upset  her  Mother.   "None  at  all, Mother." She perfectly concealed
having  been  unnerved,  but  more  with  haughtiness than skill.  She
simply would not allow herself to show the fear she could not help but
feel.   But,  both  she  and  Selene  could  feel  her  shivering very
minutely,  and Selene smiled in satisfaction at that, knowing that her
lesson had been heard.
   Neither  mother  or  daughter  seemed to notice Darkchilde watching
them  out  of  the  corner  of her eye, and noting every single little
detail  down.   She  waited, quietly, knowing when to hold her tongue,
and  as  she glanced around the room, her eyes locked onto Tarot for a
few  passing  moments.   Then, just as quickly, her eyes had moved on,
her expression kept emotionless.
   After  a while, Selene broke the silence.  "My daughters and I have
matters  to  discuss",  she  intoned,  glancing  between Amara and the
Darkchilde.   "Scalphunter." At that, Scalphunter nodded, and listened
for  the upcoming orders.  "Tarot will give you a reading now, and you
will  go hunt down the ones that Shaman has not gotten to yet.  I want
them  dead.   And.   No.   More.   Mistakes." For the final words, her
voice  went  freezing,  and  no  one  in  the room could avoid a chill
running thru their spine.
   Tarot  began  collecting  her  cards,  and preparing them for a new
reading  in  complete  silence, while the Lethal Legion began rustling
faintly,  and moving over across the room, towards the card-reader, to
form  a  semicircle  around her table, most of them eager to watch the
procedure.
   And  in  the meanwhile, Selene stepped towards the back wall of the
cavern, and waved her arm in a sorcerous gesture.  The stone dissolved
before  her, revealing a tunnel into which she stepped without another
word.   Amara  followed  into  the  tunnel  without questions, and was
followed by Darkchilde, who turned around, giving Tarot and the Lethal
Legion  a  quick,  contemplative  glance  before disappearing into the
shadows  of  the  tunnel.   As  soon  as she, too, had gone, the stone
reappeared  out  of nowhere, flowing to cover the tunnel mouth, making
it solid stone once more.

   SLAM!
   The double doors swung open and upon reaching a full half-circle in
their  arc,  crashed  onto the wall beside them.  From behind them was
revealed  a short youth, barely five feet tall, his body seething with
black  energy  which  covered  him fully, making him seem almost as if
dipped into a tar-pit.
   Behind  the  boy,  Roberto  Da Costa, were his two teammates in the
Twelve  -  a  confident,  proud  native  American  woman known only as
Moonstar;  and a nervous, lip-biting blonde in her mid-teens.  She was
Jennifer  'Roulette' Stavros, a native of Atlantic City...and also the
reason the other two were here.
   Even   further  behind  from  the  three  teens,  was  a  trail  of
unconscious  bodies littering the corridors as they had made their way
to  the  very  top  of  this  building.   The  main  office  of Osborn
Industries - one of the biggest employers in Atlantic City.
   Moonstar  was  flanking  Roberto  on his right, taking up the lower
right  corner  of their triangular formation, of which Roberto was the
tip,  and Roulette was the lower left.  Her fist was tightly squeezing
the  war-knife  of  her grandfather's, and though it was dripping with
blood, she had extremely skillfully refrained from doing any permanent
damage to any of the guards who had tried to stop them.
   "Welcome, children", came a voice.  A man was sitting behind a desk
facing   the   now-open  double  doors.   Norman  Osborn  was  in  his
mid-forties,  and  even  confronted  with  these  three  super-powered
youths,  his steely resolve did not waver for a single moment.  With a
devilish  grin  set  on  his expression, he leaned forwards a bit, and
looked Moonstar directly in the eyes, locked in a battle of wills.  "I
have  been  expecting  you."  If  Osborn  meant to specify singular or
plural with the 'you', his tone did not tell which.
   Dark  energy  crackled  about Roberto's form, and the room darkened
slightly  as he leeched strength from the light in the air, the energy
being  converted  directly into energy feeding his superhumanly strong
muscles.   His  lips  parted,  and  he  began  saying something with a
venomous tongue, but halted, feeling a hand on his shoulder.
   The  stern  arm  of  Moonstar.  She kept Roberto under control, her
firm,  almost  painful grip telling him that if he made a single move,
she  would  break  him  with  her bare hands.  "As you saw, Osborn, we
don't  care",  she  responded,  her voice icy, tempered steel in tone.
"We  want  Jennifer's  father  released.   Now." Her eyes were narrow,
commanding  and  proud,  not  the least bit worried nor afraid of this
looming, eerie man before her.
   A  few silent taps were heard, Osborn's shoes touching the floor as
he  walked  around  the  desk,  and  came to face the trio without the
furniture   in-between.    "Don't  even  presume  to  command  me,  Ms
Moonstar",   he   said,  every  single  trace  of  amusement  suddenly
disappearing from his face, replaced by a cold, almost-maniacal glare.
"You have no power here.  I could call the police, and simply have you
arrested.  But I will not."
   Silence  descended,  for  a  few  seconds,  and  Roulette trembled,
finding  herself  having  to  lean  onto  a wall to stay up.  Her eyes
closed, the sight of Osborn too much for her to bear without her knees
going weak with fright.
   Frowning,  Moonstar  quirked a suspicious eyebrow, hairs raising in
the back of her neck.  She was almost sure that she was being watched.
But  for  now,  she  would play along.  "Okay, I'll bite", she intoned
sharply.  "Why not?"
   "Because",   Osborn   replied  quite  confidently.   "I  have  been
impressed  by  your  skills,  and  I am going to employ you." He stood
there,  his  hands crossed behind his back, and watched for Moonstar's
reaction.
   Perhaps nothing short of surprising, Moonstar smiled.  True, it was
a  sarcastic  grin,  but  she was genuinely amused.  "Maybe in another
lifetime, Osborn", she replied, and took a step towards the older man,
leaving her teammates behind her.  "I already have a job.  It involves
killing.  You don't want to be added to my list."
   The response did not take long, as Osborn took a step forward also,
facing Moonstar, only a few feet from her.  "Your bravado is not doing
yourself or your friends a favor, Moonstar", he hissed sharply, like a
cobra  ready  to strike.  "None of you three leave this building alive
without  my  saying  so."  His  tone was dead serious.  And it was the
truth.   With  no apparent motion or sign given by Osborn, suddenly on
both  sides  of  the room, the wall slid aside to reveal two doorways,
and on each one stood a figure, silhouetted by the backlight.
   "Let  me  ask  you,  young  man", he said, obviously addressing his
words  to  Roberto despite his eyes not leaving Moonstar's.  "What use
would  your  vaunted  super-strength be against someone who can strike
you  down  from a distance, or impale you with three arrows before you
can  move  a  single muscle?" The shadow on Moonstar's right-hand site
stepped  to  the  light, revealing a purple-clad archer, with an arrow
primed  towards Roberto.  "I suggest you remain -very- still.  Hawkeye
is notorious for his itchy trigger-finger."
   Then,  his  eyes  still  on  Moonstar's - who had not made a single
motion, knowing Osborn was quite prepared, and knowing the best way to
beat  him  was  to  look  like  the cards he was revealing were not as
impressive  as  he  thought  - he continued.  "As for young Ms Stavros
there..."  Jennifer froze at her name being mentioned, and thought she
was  going  to  faint  on  the  spot.   "While  her  mutant  skills of
manipulating luck are quite impressive, I assure you even they are not
on  par  with  the bad luck..." Silently, the figure on the other side
stepped  into  light,  revealing  a  woman,  dressed  in black spandex
enhanced  by  a  snow-white mane around her collar, wrists and calves.
"...which the Black Cat is able to wield."
   Seemingly  undisturbed,  Moonstar  kept  facing  Osborn.   "I'm not
impressed",  she commented.  "Now where is Stavros' father?  I haven't
got all day."
   With  that,  a  maniacal  laughter suddenly filled the room, coming
from  all  around.   The  high-pitched  feminine  tone  was reaching a
crescendo, and was becoming louder by the second.  Something haunting,
disturbing  about  the  laughter  penetrated  even  Moonstar's  steely
facade,  and her expression faltered for the slightest moment, and she
took a step backwards.
   SKRESSHHHH!
   The  window  flew  inwards, exploding into little pebbles of safety
glass  which  showered  the  room.   For  the briefest of moments, the
beauty  was  breathtaking, as the glass filled the air, reflecting and
refracting  the  bright  morning sunlight.  And then, the next moment,
the  glass  was  gone,  dropped  onto the floor.  But the cause of the
window exploding inwards was still there.
   Having flown directly thru the window, shattering it, was a figure.
It  was  humanoid, seemingly green-skinned and wearing a purple shirt,
which  ended in a pair of gloves of the same color.  The shirt covered
the  entire  torso,  hugging  the full, feminine chest skintightly and
almost  making  an  exposition  of  the firm, globular breasts.  Lower
down,  her  torso  narrowed into a wasp-waist, and then, her hips were
covered  by  a  miniskirt  of the same, purple color.  Under the skirt
which  ended  about  halfway  down  her  thighs, came out the figure's
green-colored  legs,  athletic  and  running  down to a pair of purple
boots, starting just above her ankles.
   The  boots were standing upon a glider of some sort.  A bat-shaped,
night-black  glider  which  hovered,  silently and motionlessly, above
Osborn's desk.  But the most disturbing thing about the female was her
green  visage.   Almost human, but twisted in a horrible, goblin-like,
perpetual grin.  And from between her lips, the laughter had died down
to  a  giggle, but it was still there, the maniacal twinkle of her eye
saying  she  was  quite  insane,  and ready to erupt into laughter any
moment again.
   "May  I  present  the Green Goblin", Osborn said, and stepped aside
from  Moonstar,  stepping  over towards a mirror on the wall, brushing
self-consciously  the  glass  from his shoulders, and starting to make
sure his tie was in place.
   No  one  else moved, as the glider softly, soundlessly, brought the
Goblin  forward  from  above  the  desk, and hovered over to Moonstar,
bringing  its mistress over to face the Cheyenne, with those haunting,
piercing,  mad  eyes of hers.  "You don't look like much, sister", she
said,  the  words slithering from between her lips one at a time, each
one  balanced  on  the  edge between sarcastic madness and calculating
insult.
   The  last word got Moonstar's grip on her war-knife to tighten, her
knuckles  going  white  as  she squeezed the handle.  Her eyes went to
narrow  slits,  and  she  took  a  step forward, coming up to meet the
Goblin's  face.   With  the  two  women's faces a scant inch from each
other,  she  slowly  spat  out  the  words, one at a time, and packing
indescribable venom into every single one.  "My.  Sisters.  Are.  All.
-Dead-."  And  finished  it  with a stare, an unspoken 'You want to be
one?'.  Hate at first sight.  Gotta love it.
   Again,  the  room  darkened slightly, as Roberto unconsciously grew
angrier, drawing upon more and more strength.  "We don't have time for
this",  he snapped, looking at Osborn.  Hawkeye's arrow was pointed at
him,  the bowstring pulled a bit tighter as the boy spoke.  "You are a
businessman", Roberto continued.  "We can make a deal."
   "Can  we?"  Osborn  asked with skeptic calm in his tone.  "And what
would  you offer me, that I don't already have?" He turned around from
the  mirror, and let his eyes fall onto Roberto, ignoring Moonstar and
the Green Goblin, who were lost in their silent face-off.
   Suddenly,  it was as if the lighting had been turned up a bit.  But
it  was only Roberto shutting down his power, returning to his normal,
brown-skinned  form.   "Money",  he stated, crossing his arms over his
chest  confidently.   "You can never have too much money.  We will buy
Mr Stavros' freedom."
   Osborn went silent for a moment.  And his eyes widened.  But not at
Roberto's  words.   Then,  he  stepped  towards the boy.  "Indeed?" he
asked.  "You seem to fail to understand the matter at hand here, boy."
Roberto  frowned  at  the  last word, and tensed up slightly, ready to
shove  that  word,  along  with  a good number of teeth, down Osborn's
throat.   "You see, Mr Stavros has powerful enemies.  And I am keeping
him  safe  from  them.  Should I...-let him go-...he would not survive
long."  All lies, but everyone present knew that.  The words were more
to  taunt  the  teens  with the superior facade, than to actually fool
them.
   After  a  moment,  while Roberto was pondering of what to say next,
Osborn  took  a few more steps towards the Brazilian.  "But", he said.
"I  will  make  you  a counter-proposal.  You can take young Jennifer,
here, and take her to a vacation.  It will do her good to take her out
of  the  spotlight for a moment...  It could serve to protect her from
her  father's  enemies,  to take her out of sight..." As Osborn spoke,
there  was more than obvious manipulativeness in his voice, and he let
it  show  without  worry.   "But she will be back in a month", he then
snapped.   "After all...  If she would not be here, to -remind- me all
the time, I might -forget- to keep her father...-protected-..."
   By  this  time,  Moonstar had noticed the discussion, and turned to
listen  it.  "We accept", she said quickly, knowing that they had more
immediate  problems  now,  and  it would give them thirty more days to
solve  Jennifer's  problem.   By  that time, they would hopefully have
solved  the  problem  with Selene and the Legion, and could come back,
and solve -her- problem in a more...-permanent- manner.
   "Good",  Osborn  nodded,  his tone indicating that it was the smart
choice  for  -them-.   And  of course, for him.  But he could turn any
situation  to  his advantage.  As he did now.  He gave the Black Cat a
faint nod, his eyes indicating her towards Jennifer.
   Smiling  almost  coyly,  Black  Cat nodded back, and walked over to
Jennifer,  helping the younger woman to lean onto her, as Roulette was
just about ready to pass out and fall down.  "Come on, honey...  Let's
go  find something to make you feel better..." She led Jenny over to a
corner  of  the  room  where  there was a medical cabinet, and started
going thru it, her arm around the girl to support her.
   Meanwhile, Moonstar's eyes scanned the room, and fell upon Hawkeye,
still  keeping  Roberto  in  his  sights.   It  appalled  her, and she
wrinkled  her  nose, but nonetheless, a spark of an idea lit up in the
back  of  her head.  "Osborn", she said, her head turning back towards
the tycoon.  "I have an additional request."

                          FIVE MINUTES LATER

   Moonstar  led  Roberto  and  Jennifer  out  of  Osborn  Industries,
stepping  out  thru the glass double doors, and into the streets.  She
adjusted  the  quiver on her back, filled with arrows carrying various
hi-tech  heads.   She carried a bow in her left hand, and glanced back
over  her  shoulder  to  Roberto  as they stepped out onto the street.
"Okay...   'Berto,  let's  go  find a phone somewhere and you can call
your father."
   "Sounds  good",  Roberto  replied  and glanced down at the hospital
gown  he  was even still wearing.  He frowned and muttered dark things
about  the  way he looked.  As two teenage girls passed by, he quickly
put  on  a charming smile, and winked at them.  The girls giggled, and
passed him by, whispering to each other.  Again, Roberto muttered, and
put  his  hands  onto his hips.  "I think I will have him call a local
bank.  I -need- to get money to visit a clothes store..."
   Jennifer glanced around, nervously, and still unable to believe she
was  free  to  go.  But still, a nagging fear stuck in the back of her
head.   Osborn  had  said  she could go...  But did he really mean it?
But...surely  he  had the power to have prevented her from going if he
had  wanted  it...?  Maybe...maybe he got something out of this?  That
had  to  be  it...   But  Jennifer didn't care.  She just knew she was
being hunted by killers, and her father was safe while she was dealing
with that problem.
   And  upstairs, in the penthouse of Osborn Industries, Norman Osborn
took  the  receiver of a phone into his hand.  The room was quiet, his
three  Enforcers  having  left  at his command.  He pressed one of the
buttons holding a pre-recorded number, and waited for the telephone to
ring  on the other end as he sat on his chair, behind the desk.  After
a  few  seconds,  the receiver was picked up on the other end.  Norman
grinned evilly.  "Emmanuel?  Yes, this is Norman..."

   "Just don't think about it, runt.  It'll go away."
   "No  it  won't!   I  -have- to go to the bathroom!  Now!" James was
trying  to  keep  his voice quiet, a whisper, but in also trying to be
very loud, it became all but a stage-whisper.
   John rolled his eyes, and mumbled something evil about tying little
brothers  in  knots  next  time  he  was going on undercover missions.
Especially  ones  not  sanctioned by his superiors.  He was out on his
own,  Special  Agent  John  Proudstar,  gone  renegade  in  pursuit of
vengeance.   And  he  didn't need the aggravation.  He pushed open the
double  doors in front of him with a grave-serious expression, nodding
authoritatively  to the guards standing both sides of it before moving
inside, into the building with James.
   The two brothers walked along the corridors of a facility belonging
to   Strong   Industries.   One  of  the  governments  top  biotechnic
contractors,  John  knew  that he could get access to almost any files
from  their computer central.  NSA, DEA, FBI, CIA, SHIELD, a few dozen
lesser-known  agencies,  and  hundreds  of smaller ones.  And that was
just the -domestic- organizations he could get at.
   Dressed  as a security guard himself, armed with his smarts, mutant
powers  and  most  importantly a false ID card, he knew he could get a
long  way  in before anyone questioned him.  Well, if James could just
hold  his  water  and  act  natural.   But of course he couldn't.  o O
(F*cking  little  brothers...) John thought, and noticed a bathroom up
ahead.   Practically  shoving  James  in  the  door, he began waiting,
leaning  on  the wall beside the door.  o O (Next time, I'm bringing a
damn Tamagoochie instead of him...)

   Katherine  Pryde  thought  herself  to  be  an  ordinary  girl.  No
stunning beauty.  No blonde hair.  No overflowing chest.  She was just
a  typical  jewish  girl  from  Deerfield, Illinois.  Her hobbies were
dancing,  and  sitting at the computer for hours on end.  When she had
had  to  get glasses to correct her nearsightedness, she had cried for
days.  What boy would ever want her?  She was a geek!  A loser!
   Right  now,  it  was  8 am on a Friday morning, and cold winds were
blowing  thru  the schoolyard as she rushed over it, to make it to gym
class.   Huffing and puffing as she ran, suddenly the backpack's strap
snapped,  and the backpack fell to the ground behind her.  "DAMN!" she
cursed, and skidded to a halt, then went back to get the backpack.
   As  she  started  taking the backpack from the ground, she suddenly
saw something on the other side of the schoolyard.  Larry Bodine.  She
had  had a -huge- crush on him, but he had never paid any attention to
her.   He  hadn't  even  known  she  had been alive.  Until yesterday.
Larry  had  come  to her and asked if she would like to go see a movie
Friday  night.  She had been so excited she couldn't get a single word
out,  so  she  had just nodded quickly, and then ran all the way home,
and  bounced  around  her house until her parents had gotten back from
work.
   Kitty was just about to go over to Larry and ask if they were still
on  for  the  date  tonight,  when  she  saw  something  else.  Phoebe
Huntsman,  one  of  the  cheerleader  bimbos walked up to him and they
kissed  passionately,  Larry  putting  his  arms  around  her.   Kitty
blinked,  and  then  felt  her  heart  wrenched out of her chest.  She
quickly  turned  around,  and  ran  inside  the school, taking off her
glasses - cursing them in passing - to wipe her eyes dry.

   "You ever been in love?"
   "..."
   "Romantic.   Knew  it  from the first.  All that 'knight in shining
armor' sh*t." She chuckled sarcastically.  "Moron."
   Angelo  chomped on a donut and frowned at Tabitha's words.  The gas
station  cafe was silent, and they were the only people there at 6 am,
to  have  a  cup  of  coffee.   The clerk behind the cash register was
reading  the  Enquirer,  chuckling  to  himself  as  he turned a page,
immersed  in  the  magazine.   "Maybe",  he shrugged after getting the
piece of donut down his throat.  "What about you?"
   "Ain't  never needed nobody.  Ain't never gonna." She replied in an
uncaring,  flippant  tone, and took a sip at the coffee, then wrinkled
her nose at the taste.
   Concernedly,  Angelo  quirked an eyebrow.  "No way to live, chica",
he  stated.  He sipped at the coffee also, but his taste buds were far
more desensitized by bad coffee, and he hardly even noticed the taste.
   Tabitha  snorted, and leaned back on the chair.  "We're born alone.
We  die  alone.   I  figure I can handle the rest of the time the same
way."
   "Your choice", Angelo commented.  "Your funeral." Of course, he was
hardly  one  to  talk.   He was -the- lone wolf.  Never letting people
close,  always  keeping  people  at  a  distance.  And nonetheless, he
always  was  there -for- people.  It was just when -he- was the matter
when  he  got quiet.  Defensive.  But for other people...he always was
there  to help when people got into trouble.  That's why Tores fell in
love  with  him.  That's why he ran away when he got into trouble.  To
save her.
   "Yeah  well",  Tabitha  commented as she took a pack of cigarettes,
and  started  digging  for  one.   "These things're gonna kill me soon
anyway,  so  why  bother?"  She  put a cigarette between her lips, and
tossed  the  pack  at  Angelo  to  free  her  hands for digging up the
lighter.
   Taking  the last cigarette from the pack and tossing the empty pack
to  a  garbage can, he put it between his lips and began waiting for a
light.   "Whatever", he mumbled and started watching out to the street
thru the window behind Tabitha.

   John's  fingers  danced across the keyboard.  He was sitting at one
of the systems in the Strong Industries computer central.  The fake ID
he  had  swiped  off  a security guard had gotten him all the way down
here,  and he had had to start busting heads only when the people here
had become suspicious of the kid with him.
   "He's  one of those wonder kids", John had tried to explain.  "Main
office  wants  him  to  do  a debug on something-or-other." Too bad it
hadn't  worked.   So  John had had to knock the security and employees
here  unconscious before anyone could sound an alarm.  For someone who
in  their youth used to outrun and outwrestle full-grown buffaloes, it
was  hardly a problem.  And the mirrorshades and long-haired wig would
help for him not to be recognized.
   And  now,  James was fidgeting beside John, waiting for big brother
to  finish  what  he  had  come  for.  When suddenly he started seeing
something.    An   image.   Almost  a  ghost  image.   Like  something
shimmering in the middle of the room, with a bluish light.  He blinked
a  few  times, but it just got stronger.  "Big brother...?" he started
hesitantly.
   "Not now, runt.  Go play some games or something", John grunted, as
he  inputted some keywords into the SHIELD database search engine, and
started waiting.
   James  fidgeted  a  bit more, and kept his eyes fixed on the bluish
glow.   Then, a faint circle of dust materialized on the upper edge of
the shimmer, and began floating downwards.  James' eyes went wide, and
he gripped John's shoulder, trying to pull him to look at it.
   With  a growl, John tossed James' hand aside.  "I said beat it!" he
snapped.   "I'm  working!" But only a fraction of a second afterwards,
John's  superhumanly  sensitive  ears picked up the inaudible sound of
the  dust falling downwards, and his head whirled around.  "Holy Crow!
What  the  hell's that?" he asked, standing up in a flash and knocking
his chair over.
   "Greetings,     John     and    James    Proudstar",    said    the
green-and-orange-clad  figure  revealed  from  nothingness as the dust
fell  lower.   "I am the Shaman, and I have come to offer you a chance
at revenge."

   "You are very tiresome, American."
   Sam  grumbled  slightly,  and turned his eyes downwards.  "Okay, go
on..."  he muttered apologetically, just about having had it with this
lecture he was getting, but too polite to say so.
   Manuel  hmphed  and  shook  his head at the arrogant foreigner, who
didn't  even have any respect for their hosts or the host's family and
clan.   He proceeded, and motioned towards a painting depicting a very
wealthy-looking  spanishman, perhaps from the fifteenth century or so.
Obviously  nobility,  judging  by  the jewelry worn, and the luxuriant
clothing.   "This  is  one  of my ancestors", he said and proceeded to
list  about  thirty  different names in rapid succession, like he knew
them  all  by  heart.   "He  was  one  of the most powerful men of his
time..."  Manuel  continued,  and  began  telling of the exploits, the
possessions and the influence of Ferdinand de la Rocha.
   Putting  his  hand  to  his head, Sam groaned softly.  o O (Maybe I
shoulda let'im get killed...)

   "What  the  hell do ya mean ya can take us to the people who killed
our  parents??" John demanded, taking a step towards Shaman, his hands
balled into fists in anger at this game-playing.
   Shaman  shook his head, and lifted a hand up in a vain effort in an
attempt  to try calming the older Proudstar.  "I am merely saying that
you are not the only ones hunted.  The Lethal Legion is hunting others
in  addition  to  yourselves.   And  I  am trying to gather all of you
targeted  individuals  together  so  you  can strike back and end this
hunt."
   James  frowned  a  bit, and stood off to the side, still fidgeting.
He  didn't  like  the  overbearing manner of this 'Shaman'.  He didn't
like how he just came and took over their lives somehow.  A minute ago
they  hadn't  even known he existed, and now he showed up, knowing all
about them and wanting to take them off somewhere...?  James fidgeted.
Again and again.

   THOOM
   Sam  and Manuel could feel the whole castle shaking, dust and dried
plaster  falling  from the ceiling.  Immediately, Sam bit his lip, and
looked  to Manuel.  "Too late", he said, nervously, and braced himself
onto a wall.  "They're here."
   His eyes going wide, Manuel glanced to Sam.  At first, he started a
sentence  in  Spanish,  too  nervous to remember keep talking English.
But  after  a  bit of stumbling, he corrected himself.  "Dios mio!" he
gasped.   "These people...are real??" He was utterly astonished at the
outlandish  tale  having come reality.  He was knocked to the floor by
the tremors, and remained there, in too much shock to move.
   With  a  sigh,  Sam  nodded emphatically.  "Yeah!" he snapped, then
quickly  bit his lip at having used such a harsh tone.  Right now, his
main  priority was getting Manuel out of the castle.  Maybe they could
save the castle by taking the fight elsewhere.
   The  castle  itself  seemed to have much the same thoughts.  A rock
directly  over  Manuel  began  coming  loose  in the aftershock of the
tremor,  and  was  just  about  to fall.  Sam's eyes went wide, and he
tossed  himself  on top of Manuel, and activated his power in hopes of
getting somewhere safe.
   There was crash upon crash upon crash.  Repeatedly, as Sam's powers
propelled  himself  and  Manuel thru the floor, several walls, another
floor and so on, for several seconds, until finally, the sounds ended,
and  they  were  in the outside air.  But as soon as that happened, he
felt  a massive wave of dizziness and nausea tear at his mind, and his
world go topsy-turvy.  Unable to control his direction consciously, he
moved  like an erratic rocket having problems, and then crashed to the
ground,  and  remained there, stunned by the power of the impact.  But
there  was  one thing he had to do...  His hand slowly reached for his
pocket,  as  he  fought  not  to lose consciousness.  The Legionnaires
would be upon them any second...

   "If  ya  can  get  me  a  piece  of  whoever  killed my folks, then
f*ckin'-A  I'm  coming  along for the ride, Shaman!" John growled, his
whole  body  tense, as if he was going to get his vengeance right here
and now.  His adrenaline levels were rising...
   That's  when  the  doors were slammed open.  "FREEZE!" said several
voices  at  once,  guns pointed at Shaman, John and James from various
directions, from all the doors coming to the room.
   Almost  simultaneously,  Shaman's  left bracelet began glowing, and
his  eyes  narrowed at the sign.  It meant Sam was in trouble.  But if
he  reached  for  his  medicine  pouch, the security guards would most
likely fire.  He was helpless to do anything right now.
   John Proudstar's eyes narrowed into very tight slits.  He had found
-nothing- on the computers to aid his search.  And now, he had someone
who was going to lead him to his vengeance.  Nothing was going to stop
him.   -Nothing-.  All tensed up, his adrenaline levels peaking...  "I
will handle this", he snarled.
   In  ten  seconds,  as  many  security  guards  lay  on  the  floor,
unconscious.   Neither James nor Shaman had lifted a finger.  John was
not  even  out  of  breath,  though his fist was aching slightly after
having  by  accident punched the titanium wall.  Although the titanium
didn't survive without being dented either.
   Seeming  somewhat  impressed, Shaman watched as John began emptying
clips from the guards' guns and pocketing them.  At the same time, his
hand went to his medicine pouch, and picked up some travel dust.
   "I  suggest  we blow this joint now, before reinforcements arrive,"
John commented as he returned back to Shaman and James.  Shaman nodded
in  return,  and flung the dust into the air, where it formed a circle
around the trio, and began to float downwards...

   "Four-eyes!"
   The  echo  of  the word rang thru the girls' locker rooms.  The gym
class  was over, and Kitty Pryde had just taken a shower, when, as she
was getting dressed and putting her glasses back on, the taunts began.
   "Four-eyes!!"  the  taunt  rang  again,  and  several classmates of
Kitty's  formed  a  circle  around her, the venomous word dancing upon
their lips, ready to bite once again.
   Biting  her  lip,  Kitty turned around, trying to ignore the girls,
just  take  her  backpack  and go.  But it wasn't that easy.  It never
was.   The  backpack  was  snatched  right  in front of her eyes, just
before she could get it.  "Hey!" she shouted.  "Give that back!"
   A  snort  and  "Make  me!"  was the response.  Kitty felt the anger
rising  within  her,  a dark side she so often struggled to keep under
control.   Unconsciously,  her  hands  clenched into fists, which only
elicited  more  taunts.   "What're you gonna do, -four-eyes-?  Beat us
all up??"
   "Hey,  take  a  look at this", came a voice, and Kitty noticed that
her  backpack had been opened, and the other girls were going thru her
stuff.   "A  picture  of  that hunk Bodine." The girls looked at Kitty
sarcastically.  "I think she's got a crush on him.  Too bad the hunk's
never going to spare another thought to a four-eyes."
   The  words stung hard.  And instinctively, Kitty knew that whatever
hurt  she  could  get  physically,  it  wouldn't be as bad.  And for a
moment, her control broke down, and she leaped at the girl holding her
backpack, and levelled her with one quick punch.
   However,  Kitty  didn't  get a chance to gloat over her victory, as
the  locker room descended into chaos.  The half-dozen other girls all
grabbed  Kitty,  pulled  her hair, hit her, kicked her...  From amidst
the  pain,  Kitty could feel her glasses be taken, and soon afterwards
the  sound  of  glass  being crunched under a boot.  "How's that feel,
Pryde?"   the  girls  crowed.   "Can  Ms  Superbrain  put  those  back
together??"
   A kick hit another girl straight in the chin, and sent her crashing
against a wall.  Again, that did little good, and Kitty only felt that
be  paid back to her dozenfold and more.  "B*tch!" she heard the girls
say.   Somehow,  she  felt  something crack in her side, and something
warm  came  up  as  she coughed.  But, she felt something else, too...
Something...rising?  A warm tingle about her body, as if something was
about to happen...
   Then,  it  ended  as  quickly as it began.  "Look at her", came one
voice.
   "She's coughing blood..."
   "You think she's..." The voice stopped in mid-sentence.
   "I dunno...  But we'd better get outta here."
   "Hang on..." Kitty heard, and barely felt thru the numbness another
kick  hit  her  ribs.  "That's just to remind you, Pryde!  You tell on
us, and you get much worse!"
   Then,  there  was  the  sound  of  several shoes running out of the
locker room, and then silence.
   Quiet.
   Except  for  the  inaudible weeping of a little girl.  Kitty Pryde,
thirteen  and a half years young.  Beside her, on the floor, was lying
her  backpack,  dropped by the girls as they had escaped.  She did not
even  try  to look if the picture of Larry was there.  Everything hurt
too  much  already  without  being  reminded of what she had seen when
coming  to  school.   She cried softly, alone and deserted on the cold
floor.

   "East or South?"
   "You choose, Angel-boy.  Anything's better than this place."
   Angelo  stood  up  from  the table, and picked up his tray, walking
over  to  a  cart where the dishes were to be placed.  "Don't like the
City  of  Angels?" he smirked sarcastically while assorting his dishes
onto the cart.
   "Same  as any other place", Tabitha responded and stood up as well.
"So why do -you- wanna leave so bad if this city's so hot, chico?" she
asked  as  she  brought her tray over too, beginning to put the dishes
away  in  a  more  careless manner than Angelo had.  The last word was
sarcastic, a jab at Angelo's Spanish accent.
   Completely  ignoring Tabitha's question, Angelo started towards the
glass  doors  leading  out  of the cafe, but then snapped his fingers,
remembering  something.  "What makes you want to leave then?" he asked
while heading back towards the counter.  "If any place is just more of
the  same,  why  bother  goin'  from  one  place  to another?  Just be
miserable in one place?" His tone was flat, cynical, and as he reached
the  counter,  he  coughed faintly, snapping the clerk back to reality
from  reading  the  Enquirer.  'Your Neighbor Could Be a Mutant!' said
the  cover, and Angelo snorted, shaking his head just short of rolling
his eyes at the sensationalist rag.  Who cares?  "A pack of Marlboro",
he  said to the clerk, then paused for a moment, and glanced back over
his shoulder.  "Make that two."
   A  quirked  eyebrow  was  Tabitha's  response.   "Confidence",  she
retorted  dryly.  "Gotta love that in a man." Her every word was laced
with sarcasm, as she waited for the clerk to hand over the cigarettes,
her foot impatiently drumming on the floor.  "Tell me, Angel-boy - you
as cynical about everything?"
   After  finishing  the  transaction,  handing over the money for the
cigarettes  and tossing one of the packs Tabitha's way, he stuffed the
other one in his back pocket.  "Only cynical if it ain't true, chica",
he commented, and started again towards the doors leading outside.
   Plucking  the  cigarettes out of the air and stuffing them into the
left  pocket  of  her  jeans,  Tabitha  followed Angelo.  "I think I'm
falling  in  love  with  you,  Angel",  she said sarcastically.  "That
optimism  is  just  making  my  knees  weak."  She shook her head, and
followed Angelo out, as he pushed the glass double doors open.
   The  two  teenagers  stepped outside, into the cool morning air.  A
cold  breeze  was  running thru the still-dark streets of Los Angeles.
It  was  silent.   More  silent than it should be, Angelo thought, and
felt  the hair in the back of his neck rising.  o O (Cops?  No, they'd
be  more  visible.   The  Dragons?   No, they don't come this far from
their  'Hood  -  even  after  a  blood vendetta.  Who the hell is it?)
Angelo thought, completely certain that someone was waiting.  For him.
And  he was right.  "Trouble", he whispered, looking completely casual
and relaxed, yet underneath he was ready to explode into action at the
least tip-off.
   Tabitha  frowned  at  the word, and fortunately knew better than to
start  looking  around  stupidly,  for  which Angelo thanked God.  Her
eyes, though, did narrow a bit, and she started to walk along down the
sidewalk,  knowing  as  well  as  Angelo did, that if they just stayed
there,  it  would  be  obvious  that  they were suspicious.  Her hands
clenched  into  fists,  concealing a little glow emanating from inside
them.
   They didn't have to wait for long.  They walked down for maybe half
a minute, before they felt some odd, invisible force surround them and
pick   them  up.   Outwardly,  both  remained  absolutely  calm,  only
narrowing  their  eyes  and  tensing  for action, as they began rising
upwards in the air, like lifted by a tractor beam.
   And  then,  they rose to the rooftop level of the building they had
been  passing.   And  saw  the four figures standing on the roof.  And
although  they  did  not  know it, the four were members of the Lethal
Legion.   The  handsome, roguish brit known as Prodigal.  The scrawny,
silver-haired  Riptide.   The mischievous snappy dresser in a greenish
suit,  called  Scrambler.   And  finally  the  bald mountain of a man,
answering  to  the  name Blockbuster.  If Angelo and Tabitha had known
just  how  much trouble they were in, they might well have quit there.
But they didn't.
   Prodigal's  hands  were  raised  in a gesture, as if holding up two
invisible puppets.  And in an astonishingly similar manner, Angelo and
Tabitha  were  suspended  in  midair,  in  front  of the roof, a dozen
stories  above the sidewalk.  "Okay, chaps - I don't want any cock-ups
this  time", Prodigal spoke to the other three Legionnaires.  "They're
not  getting anywhere from there." His smirk widened, as he continued.
"Ready...aim..."

   The  sniffling  was cut short, when Kitty heard noises from outside
the  locker  room.   It  was  as  if  all  hell had broke loose in the
school's hallways.  People were screaming, rushing here and there, and
her eyes widened as she realized what it was.
   A  fire.   It  had  to be a fire.  Nothing else could cause a panic
like  that.  Despite the pains all over her body, she stumbled up, and
grabbed  her  backpack.   Everything  went black from even that little
effort,  and she had to sit onto the bench for a few seconds to regain
her bearings.
   Then,  she  forced  herself  to  stand  up, adrenaline beginning to
slowly  seep  into her exhausted and battered system, from the fear of
being  trapped  in  a burning building.  She rushed towards the double
doors leading out of the locker room and into the hallways.
   SLAM!   She  ran  at  the  double  doors, and shoved them open with
desperation,  to arrive in the hallway beyond.  To her surprise, there
were  no signs of fire anywhere.  She looked up the hallway.  Nothing.
Empty.  Quiet.  Silent.
   She looked down the hallway.
   Horror.
   Dozens upon dozens of slaughtered bodies of the students were lying
on  the floor, between Kitty and the exit leading out of the building,
and into the outside air.
   But  that  was  hardly what made her heart skip a beat.  It was the
trio standing amidst the bodies, seemingly undisturbed by them, and it
did  not take too great a leap of logic from Kitty to deduce that they
were the culprits.
   "There  she  is!!"  shouted  a voice, as a chubby, harpoon-wielding
person with a reddish hair cut in a 'Moe' style, turned towards Kitty.
Even  a  second didn't pass between the shout, and the man tossing the
harpoon  he  was holding.  Perfect, quick, coordinated actions, almost
like  a machine, Harpoon flung his slayspear towards Kitty Pryde.  The
weapon  glowed  fiercely with golden energies, as if about to explode,
as it screamed thru the air towards the teenager.
   Only  the  years  of  dance  practice helped Kitty avoid the sharp,
lethal  weapon.   She  leaped  to  the  side,  in mid-air put her feet
against  the  wall  she was beside, bounced off it, flipped in the air
into  a  handstand,  and  from there sideflipped again, into a crouch.
And  all thru that brief moment, a moment of stunning confusion rushed
thru her mind.  'There she is'???  What the heck did that mean??  They
were  after  her??   Why??   She  was  simply astonished, not that she
noticed  it  from  the  revulsion of seeing all those dead bodies.  It
reminded  her  so much of the books on Holocaust that she had read, it
made her sick...
   And in the middle of all that, as she landed in the crouch, she got
a  better glimpse of the murderers.  Harpoon...  Then a prismatic man,
like  some  sculpture made of glass, only life-sized and moving.  This
was  Prism,  not  that  Kitty  knew it.  And between the two men...  A
figure...  So familiar...
   Kitty  was almost struck unconscious by the pure realization of who
it  was.   Phoebe  Huntsman!   And  then...   Then,  she  -was- struck
unconscious,  when  Prism raised his hand towards her, and unleashed a
wide-arc stroboscopic flash, which, half-solid, knocked her backwards,
and into a wall.  She slumped down against it, the last thought in her
mind  before blacking out being that of her grandfather, a survivor of
the Holocaust.

   "Vertigo,   secure  the  perimeter!   Arclight,  take  the  point!"
Scalphunter  moved  with a brisk pace, though not running, towards the
crater  where  Sam  had  crashed  with the young Spaniard Manuel de la
Rocha.   His  tone  was  sharp,  almost  harsh, but still analytically
professional.  He did not want anything botched up this time.
   Arclight nodded to Scalphunter, and began half-trotting towards the
crater.   "I  know the other kid", she said as they began covering the
quarter-mile  or  so to the crash site.  "My former mark.  The Guthrie
kid.  Some kinda propulsion powers."
   "Then  we  make  sure  he  doesn't  get  to  use them", Scalphunter
replied,  and  quickly switched the clip on his rifle, shoving the new
one  in  with  a sharp CLATCH.  "Like we did just now.  You copy that,
Vertigo?"   he   said,  making  sure  Vertigo  was  listening  to  the
conversation via comlink, though she was left behind.
   "Yah,  I  gotcha",  Vertigo quickly replied.  "If he tries ta bolt,
I'll zap 'im again."
   Snorting  faintly,  Scalphunter kept moving towards the crash site.
"Eloquent  as  ever",  he  commented  dryly,  then glanced up ahead at
Arclight,  who  had  outdistanced  him  quite  a  bit, and was already
arriving at the crater, when he had still an eighth of a mile left.
   Vertigo  remained  behind,  on  top  of  a hill which was a perfect
vantage  point  for her to see the surrounding plains for miles around
her.   She  kept  looking  around everywhere, trying to do her best to
stay  alert.   Meanwhile, Scalphunter increased his pace slightly, but
not  too much, giving Arclight enough time to make sure the crash site
was secure, as he moved over the field, following her.
   A  faint dust cloud had been kicked up by the crash landing, but by
now  it  was beginning to settle, and Arclight waved her hand in front
of  her  face  a  bit,  trying  to  clear out the air so she could see
better.   And soon enough, she did see enough to find the two forms at
the  bottom  of  the  crater.   "Found  them!"  she called out just as
Scalphunter arrived at the edge of the crater.
   The  crater  was  maybe  fifty  yards  in  diameter, having made an
indentation in the ground of a yard or two, forming a crater-like bowl
at   the   bottom  of  which  Samuel  and  Manuel  lay,  immobile  and
unconscious.   Though Sam's blast field had mostly protected them from
the  impact, they had still nonetheless been knocked out.  Helpless at
the  feet  of  Arclight,  as she called out, "Want me to do them right
off?"
   "No,  I want you to throw 'em a surprise deathday party, give 'em a
few cigars and offer last wishes, so they get as much time as possible
to try ta escape!" Scalphunter growled in response.  "Do 'em!  Now!  I
ain't  too fond o' goin' back and tellin' Selene they gave us the slip
-again-!"
   With a nod, Arclight's hands tightened into fists, and rose up into
the  air,  the  silvery  gauntlets  glinting  brightly  in  the  sunny
afternoon  of  Castille, Spain.  She tensed up, preparing to bring her
fists down on the teenagers and kill them on the spot...
   POW!
   Arclight  flew  right  out of the crater, to the very edge, landing
close  to  Scalphunter's  position.  She had been hit.  Hard.  But she
merely smiled a bit, and rubbed her chin, as she got up.  "Nice shot",
she said, and waited to see who the hell could give one like that.
   The  dust settled slowly, but quickly enough for Scalphunter not to
begin  firing  randomly into the cloud.  Finally, the two Legionnaires
at  the  edge  began  making  out a standing form at the bottom of the
crater.   A  proud,  tall  man,  with  a  heavily-built,  lean figure.
"Yummy",  commented  Arclight  as she watched the form be revealed, as
the dust settled.
   Finally,  the  form  was  completely  revealed,  the  dusty  shroud
becoming  faint  enough to no longer obscure the appearance of Special
Agent  John  Proudstar.   The  man  on  the Warpath against the Lethal
Legion.  And behind him, two other forms - Shaman, crouched to inspect
Sam and Manuel; and James Proudstar, scared and hesitant, taking a few
steps back from everything.  "Say your prayers", John said venomously,
his  eyes  locked on Scalphunter and Arclight.  "The Apache don't take
vengeance lightly."

                              NEXT ISSUE

Whew!   I  wonder  if  I need to tell y'all folks out there that #6 is
gonna  be  an action-fest!  It's entitled 'Run For Your Life', and you
bet  that's  exactly  the  best  advice to give to Angelo, Tabitha and
Kitty  -  if  they  even  get the chance to run, that is.  Things look
mighty bad for the trio who haven't hooked up with Shaman yet, and I'm
not going to give any promises all three of them are going to survive.
Hm.   I  should  probably  make  that, I'm not making any promises for
-any-  of  the  cast.   But  rest assured, you'll see The Twelve going
head-to-head  with  the  Lethal  Legion in more than one city.  And of
course,  you'll  get  glimpses  to Nova Roma too, just because I can't
resist  writing  about  our girls there.  ;) But that's enough gabber,
I'll sign off and let you people have this issue!