Post by Deleted on Dec 13, 2014 18:43:41 GMT -5
#2 - Finding Redemption
Written by comixmaster
“An offer? Of what?” Ghost Rider asked.
“An offer…to find vengeance,” replied General Ross.
The two were lounging in lawn chairs in the middle of the dry terrain. A tumbleweed would roll past as they talked. The air was dry and hot, despite it being close to nighttime. Ghost Rider’s bike was parked close by. His flames lit of the surrounding area like a campfire. He actually managed to unnerve the General…but, however, only slightly.
“Your definition of vengeance ain’t the same’s mine, hombre,” the Rider stated.
“How so?”
“You ain’t lost as much’s me. Lost my job…my career…my soul…my life—”
“—Your father.”
“Yeah.”
“That’s where we’re not so different, Blaze. I’ve experienced loss, too.”
“Heh. Yeah, your reputation. That ain’t nothin’ compared to what—”
“I’ve lost much, much more than that, my friend.”
Ghost Rider stared at Ross through his dark holes for eyes. “I can smell the sin on you, General. You reek of it. Smells like a wet dog taking a $#!%.”
The General cleared his throat loudly. “Tell me, Blaze…do you think you have a purpose in life?”
“What is this? A damn therapy session?”
“Just answer the question.”
Ghost Rider hesitated in order to think. “No. Guess not. Why?”
“Let me very dreck—direct. Dammit…”
“Redneck speaks tends ta rub off on others, heh.”
“Hmph. Let me ask you this…How would you like to serve your country?”
“Will there be…chimichangas?”
Ross sighed. “Yes, Wade…”
“I’m in.”
“What?”
“I’m in.”
The General and Deadpool stood in a dark alley. Dead bodies surrounded them, each with a bullet wound in the middle of their foreheads. They all had been armed to the teeth, and they all wore matching black and white uniforms.
“Well…” Ross scoffed. “You were easy to convince.”
“Yeah, it’s this…nagging feeling in the back of my head. It’s like someone’s there, controlling me—”
“That would be your conscience, Wade. Walk with me.”
The two walked out of the alley and started walking down the sidewalk. As they walked, numerous people gave Deadpool high-fives.
“People love me,” Deadpool said to Ross, “and they barely know who I am!”
“Why would that be?” asked the General.
“Dunno. Probably ’cause I’m a super-badass mercenary! Fame is good, General. Fame is good.”
“And that’s why you walk around in public, fully armed, like a glorified—”
A young woman stopped them. “Oh. My. God,” she said. “You’re…You’re…”
“Deadpool, I know,” said the mercenary.
“Oh my god!” she shrieked. “Can I have your autograph?”
“Heh heh…I’ll give you more than just my autograph, toots,” Deadpool said slyly, causing the girl to giggle uncontrollably.
“Let’s keep moving,” the General said, pulling Deadpool along.
“Aw, come on! That was a fangirl!” he protested.
“And I’m sure there are many more.”
“Damn right. So tell me, General, why do you want me on this little team of yours?”
The General hesitated before speaking. “All right. Answer me this first, Wade: why do you want to be on this team?” asked Ross.
“Oh, y’know. Fame. Fortune. Mostly fame. And fortune. My motivations are pretty standard.”
“Well, that’s…that’s pretty selfish, but all right. How do I know you won’t betray this team?”
“As long as you keep payin’ and I keep famin’, there shouldn’t be a problem,” Deadpool replied. “I need this. A team—that’s the perfect thing to have! I can see it now—money, movies, comic books, money, TV shows, money, hot supermodel girlfriends…I can see the banners covering the whole damn planet! ‘Deadpool and the Thunderbolts’!”
“The what?”
“The Thunderbolts. Catchy, is it not?”
“I decided a long time ago that the team will be called Superhuman Strike Force One.”
“Holy God that’s a boring name. Now get to the part where you tell me why it is that you want me on this team?”
“I took a look at your Weapon X file and thought you’d be—”
“Ohhh, so it’s because of my—”
“Your healing factor, yes.”
“Heh. Well…Can’t say I’m not flattered, General. My healing factor is pretty awesome.”
The two stopped walking. General Ross looked Deadpool right in the eye. “Listen, Wilson. I won’t deny that you’ll be paid decently—”
“Aw, yeah, baby.”
“—and I won’t deny that you’ll get a good amount of attention—”
“Oh yeah, give it to me…”
“—you have to know that there’ll be more to this team than just fame and fortune. You’ll be fighting for a dream, Wilson. You’ll be defending an ideal.”
“The American Dream.”
Ross nodded. “That’s right.”
“Well…I’m Canadian, so this’ll be awkward.”
General Ross and Punisher—now in civilian clothes—were sitting at a small, two-person table in the patio of a restaurant. The General had a big steak on his plate, while Punisher had a peanut butter and jelly sandwich and a juicy burger on his.
“I told you, General,” Punisher said. “I’m not interested; I work alone.”
“Frank…” said Ross. “The team could really use someone like you.”
“Didn’t you hear? I’m a psychopath.”
“I don’t believe that,” Ross stated. “I firmly believe that you’re a good person.”
Punisher was silent.
“I know about your loss, Frank. That day in Central Park…It destroyed you. It made you who you are today. The people who will be on the team with you also know what loss is. I know what loss is. You’d be a natural chief of the team. Your history as a Marine—”
“Stop talking,” Punisher said sharply. “Eat your meal and go. I don’t want to have anything to do with you or any team.”
“Is this because of your…disliking of other super heroes?”
Punisher grumbled.
“It is, isn’t it. Then how about this…” Ross reached into his suit jacket and pulled out a gun, pointing it at Punisher, who looked at it with an exasperated expression, but didn’t say anything. “You’re a criminal, Frank. You can’t be put in jkail, or else you’ll murder all those criminals in there with you. I know that’s what you’ll do, Castle, or should I say…Castiglione?” The gun clicked as General took the safety off. “I’m giving you to the count of three.”
“General…”
“One.”
“General!”
“Two.”
“Dammit, Ross! Fine! I’ll join your %^©#ing team!”
General Ross chuckled silently as he put the gun back in his jacket. “Leave New York to the other super heroes, Frank. Where we’ll be going, there are plenty of bad people who have hurt many innocent people.”
Punisher’s face was scrunched up from being so angry. “Can’t wait,” he spat through clenched teeth. “But if you ever—ever—point a gun at me again, I’ll take it from you and shoot you myself. God knows how many innocent people have died in your name.”
General leaned back in his chair, smiling as if he had just beaten Punisher in a game of chess.
Two Days Later…
Ghost Rider, Punisher, and Deadpool sat around a rectangular table in a mostly empty room. Numerous televisions lined the walls, and a holographic control pad sat at the end of the table. Deadpool was rambling on and on about something when General Ross walked in.
“Welcome to the Gamma Base, gentleman,” he said.
Deadpool was still talking. “—then she pinned me down and covered me in her teantacles. I was all, ‘Yes, baby! Give it to me!’ And she was all, ‘Blarbluhblublughblublugh..’”
“Shut up, Wilson,” Punisher yelled.
“Hold on now, Frank,” said Ghost Rider. “This is gettin’ interesting…”
“Then she frickin’ absorbed my suit,” continued Deadpool, “and then…uh…I guess we banged?”
Punisher sighed as he shook his head in disgust.
“You got issues, cowboy,” Ghost Rider said.
“Well,” the General said as he sat at the head of the table. “Clearly I walked in at the wrong time. As I said, welcome to the Gamma Base.”
“What was this place even for?” asked Deadpool. “It’s deader than my grammy.”
“Let me start at the beginning, Wilson,” said the General. “Eight months ago, a scientist by the name of Bruce Banner used an untested super-soldier serum on himself in front of more than a hundred people. The serum seemed to work at first, but then—”
“Hulk,” Punisher finished.
“That’s right.”
“What?!” shrieked Deadpool. “That is the stupidest, dumbest, most whacked up thing anyone could ever do! That wouldn’t just anger the scientific community—that would anger a lot of other people! Yes…A lot of other people…”
“You’re right in the fact the public wasn’t happy. That’s why the military took up the Hulk problem. He killed ninety-three of the people attending the demonstration. One of those people…was my daughter. Not a day goes by that I don’t miss her.”
“Holy $#!%...” said Ghost Rider. “You have lost something…”
“You’ve all had your training, I suppose,” said the General. “But there’s one member my team needs: my daughter.”
“Wait, wait, wait…I thought you said she was dead,” said Deadpool.
“She was recently resurrected,” explained the General, “by a man named Samuel Sterns, also known as the Leader. He developed a super-soldier serum and used it on himself. It almost worked…Almost. It gained him Captain America’s intelligence, but none of his strength. He used that intelligence and made another serum, and he used it on my daughter’s body. It brought her back to life, and she gained the strength, speed, and smarts of Captain America…but, like Hulk, she gains all this power by becoming a monster…a red-skinned monster.”
“Kinky,” said Deadpool.
“The Leader has her brainwashed. Before we can set out and defeat the Hulk, we need to get Betty on this team.”
Ghost Rider, Punisher, and Deadpool all looked at one another.
Punisher looked at Ross with a small smirk. “We might be able to figure something out.”