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| Captain America 2099UG - The Deadpool Issue #3 of 4 "Death Angel" Written by Chris Burns and Jason Smith |
| The 2099 Underground is a project whereby a group of fans are putting together a series of stories continuing from Marvel's fantastic futuristic 2099! Ignoring the ignoble and inaccurate "2099: World of Tomorrow", we're exploring what we feel is the true spirit of 2099 as envisioned by then Editor-in-Chief Joey Cavalieri. Participation is open to all. Comments about this issue should be sent to the author. Or you can visit our message board and post your thoughts on the issue. Anyone wishing to join the mailing list should do so by signing up at Yahoo! Groups. It's free and easy! Simply type in the keyword "Ghostworks" and you're good to go. |
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| DOME H.Q. For the first time in 20 years, Nicholas Page, other times known as the Captain America of 2099, feels a tinge of fear. Only moments ago, while facing his oldest and most challenging foe (Glitterspike), it was revealed to him that he had a contract out on his life. Such events are not new to Nicholas, but this contract is different. There is a place that Nicholas knows all to well. It is called the Hellhouse, and it is the heart of the Deadpool. The Deadpool is an organization run by a man named Marker that freelances the 100 deadliest assassins and mercenaries in the world. The entry fee into this elite group is the life's blood of a current member that you yourself eliminate. Marker contracts the services of the Deadpool only to Blackcarders able to pay his abosorbiant retainers, then splits the fee with the person or persons responsible for the hit. The reward then is VERY motivating and as a result the Deadpool has never failed. This contract however is unlike any before it. Until now, no contract has ever been allowed to target a member, and Nicholas is a member in good standing. It is true that Captain America fears no single man, the thought of facing 99 of his deadliest peers and confidants is quite distasteful. It would make any man take notice... or run. Which is what Nicholas is doing. It is late night in Washington DC when Captain America bursts from the rear exit of the DOME building. He knows that Glitterspike is not far behind him, and his chances of loosing him grow slimmer with each passing second. Two steps and he vaults onto his bike, a second more and he is in motion, tearing down a busy street weaving in and out of traffic at nearly 100 mph. His onboard computer taps into the city's traffic control net and ensures that the path ahead allows no cross traffic for him to run afoul. His advanced hearing picks up the sound of the local constabulary far off in the distance. He knows they hold no threat to him. They cannot catch him, and even if they could they could never hold him. He does, however, check his rear monitor often, expecting at any moment to see the inevitable streak of light that would herals Glitterspike's pursuit. But in a few moments he finally realizes he is not going to see it. Confusion sets in. " I didn't really hurt him," Nicholas thinks to himself. " Where is he?" His query unanswered, he just guns his accelerator and heads for the edge of the city. Unseen behind him, just outside the range of his legendary danger sense, a shadow moves through the sky in pursuit. -------------------------------------------------------------- SEWERS UNDER WASHINGTON D.C. Her name is Maria Page, and she is the daughter of a very dangerous man. In spite of her paternity, however, she is very frightened and very confused. A moment ago, her fantasy world came crashing down under the assault of another man's grief. Still mourning the loss of two friends at the hands of the new Captain America of the year 2099, Pulse took out his pain on this little girl, reasoning that if he could hurt her, he would also wound the person responsible for his own grief. He told her the truth about her father, about his life as a murderer, and his 'mutant' curse. He also told her how much he hated her father, and now her. Faced with all of this after so sheltered a life, she finds solace in denial. " That man is lying!" she growls to herself. " I need to hide until daddy gets back." She watches slyly until noone is monitoring her, then silently moves into the darkness of the DC sewer system. -------------------------------------------------------------- HELLHOUSE 2099 In a spacious yet darkened room, a frail man strides to his desk. Each step is answered by an echo's call. To say he is old would be like calling the sun a candle. His features are thick with the signs of aging, his body rebelling against every step. It is not until his eyes come up that anyone would realize this is not a man to be triffled with. The relatively short distance to the desk takes several eternities too long to reach, and when he sits, the man called Marker can barely hear his own ragged breath over the racous protests of his aging joints. Never though, do his eyes ever loose their focus... they are ever watchful. He sighs, resentful of his body and wishing for a time when strength meant more to his survival than cunning. His desk top is rather barren save an ultra thin keyboard and a holo-gram emitter. His aged fingers begin to stroke the keys with practiced precision. A complex recognition program takes shape in 3 dimensions above the holo pad. " Computer. Access program Seer One." The recognition program begins to take various shapes and give a series of instructions. After several minutes, it finishes. " Identity Marker confirmed. DNA, Retinal Scan, Voice Recognition, Vital Parameters all within acceptable tolerances. Access granted." A woman then appears on the screen, the point of view from her rear. She is working busily at a desk, juggling piles of documents between keystrokes. She is young, and quite slender, wearing a black buisiness suit and a pair of spectacles. Her hair, although long, is pulled back tight in a bun at the back of her head. Without turning, or even stopping her work, she speaks, throwing her voice back over her shoulder. " I know you are watching me Marker." He grins and replies. " How did you know?" " Because I know you. Besides, I bugged your office again and I heard you activate the program." " Ah! I must of missed that one. I am getting sloppy in my old age. Perhaps you should just get rid of your lod man and take over the Deadpool." " No thanks ' Old Man', We have had this discussion before. I don't want the Deadpool. My talents lie elsewhere." " Ah yes! thank you for reminding me of your talents. It brings me to the reason for my imposition." She finally turns toward the camera. " Yes?" " I want to know how the current Deadpool is going." " Which one? Miguel O'Hara or Nicholas Page?" ( See also current issues of Sman 2099UG!) " Page, my dear." he patronizes. " Hmmm." she says, studying some notes. " Not much activity yet. Glitterspike engaged but was stalled. Shadowdeath currently has him in visuals." " Amazing how you know that my dear." he says, fishing for information. " Yes it is, isn't it? Now leave me alone, I have work to do." " O.K. Angel. Goodbye." He does not disengage the viewer, but rather continues to watch in obvious pride. She then calls again over her shoulder resuming her work. " I mean it Marker." He smiles and hits the indicator marked 'disengage'. -------------------------------------------------------------- SOMEWHERE IN CANADA When his night-time flight ends, the sun has not yet risen over the canadian horizen. His cycle comes to a rest and reviews the last evening's events. After defeating Glitterspike, Nicholas Page had accessed the computer of his old friend Dr. Jameson to attempt to find clues to his location. The computer had been wiped clean save one file, that once opened had said but one thing... Weapon X This was obviously a clue left deliberately for Nicholas as Jameson knew he was coming. It is also a phrase with only two relevant answers. The first possibility was the compound in Colorado where Nicholas had once had his bones laced with adamantium under a program called " Weapon XS". The second possibility was here... a Canadian compound, known by very few to be the birth place of the original Weapon X program of the Twen Cen. Since the former was run by DOME he assumed Dr. Jameson had taken up residence in the later. America breathes deep the coniferous aroma of the high Canadian forest, one of the largest left in the world. He dismounts his bike and tabs a couple of security keys. There is a slight distortion in the area, and the bike fades from view, hidden by a cloaking device. He then approatches the front entrance of the compound, startling a deer in the process. Once he arrives he is amazed to see that the security system and the accompanying locking mechanism both in tact. "Hmmm", he states as he observes the lock. It is a typical 9 key number pad with a LED display as was widely used in the Twen Cen. The LED flashes one simple message. The Spot... If Jameson is indeed here, Nicholas reasons, then he would program the security with him in mind. He would also know that a knowledge of the Heroic Age would naturally follow Nicholas' research into his ancestor Steve Roger's past. Breathing deeply he enters the numbers 1, 3, 5, 7, and 9. As he hits each one it remains illuminated. A distinct letter apears and the LED goes blank before flashing a new message. Access granted. Please Enter. " X marks the spot." He grins as he moves through the door. In the quickly fading darkness a shadow moves to follow him unseen. -------------------------------------------------------------- BACK IN AMERICA Swansong awakens and realizes she must have dozed off while working with Austin. She stretches, arms above her head, then rolls over to see Aaustin nearby. She grins with a crooked smile as she looks at the sleeping form for a moment more. Then, her smile fades as the events of the previous day crash upon, and smother her serenity. She remembers Austin's failings, both as a leader, and as a friend to this group. She remembers Pulse's loss of control, and Austin using the opportunity to feed off of the man's emotions. She sits up and looks around the cavern and sees venus near where she was working the night before. She is also relieved to see that Square had found Pulse, and they too had snuck back into camp sometime during the night and lay unmoving. Satisfied, she rises careful not to wake Austin or the others, and walks silently to the alcove where a makeshift bed had been made for their youngest visitor. A few short steps and she is there, pulling back the curtain placed there to give her privacy. " Austin!" Swansong's voice cuts through the stagnant air. " Austin! Wake Up!" Their leader comes up before anyone does, gaining his feet in an instant, looking around for signs of danger, a small weapon in his hand. By the time the others have risen, Austin's eyes meet Swansong's looking for an explaination. His first clue is that tears are welling up in those eyes. Then he sees the blanket in her hands. He begins to fear the worst. " What is it Swan?" " It's Maria. She's run away." -------------------------------------------------------------- SOMEWHERE IN CANADA Captain America enters the old Canadian complex, allowing the door to close behind him. He breathes deeply as the nostalgia claims him. It always does here. This is the third time he has walked these halls and each of the former visitations have burned themselves into his memory. He does not bother with any lighting controls. He knows from past experience that the primary lighting system has long since surrendered to neglect and disuse. He instead takes a step forward and the solar powered emergency lighting system illuminates, triggered by a pressure plate on the floor. Each section of hallway illuminates in turn, until the process continues around a corner and out of his view. The entire area fills with a soft blue hue, just bright enough to reveal the way. With the lighting come the memories of two very different periods in his life. The first time he had entered these halls had been when he was very young, and none too bright. It had been the first raid he had ever done for DOME. He had been a member of a highly trained covert ops team, with each member treated with some version of the legendary Super Soldier Serum. The compound had housed secrets that the people of Dome wanted very badly, but it was also home to a small clan of what was once called 'Sasquatch'. They never stood a chance. It had been the first time Nicholas Page had ever killed in cold blood. It had been hard. Timothy Waters and his shrinks had told Nicholas that the act was indeed not murder because they were not human... they were animals, and his hands were free of their blood. He wanted to believe them, to lessen his guilt, so he did. The argument had worked equally years later when 'mutants' had become the target. The raid on the Weapon X complex had had a grossly large effect on his life. Many events in his life could trace their origins to right here. This included Nicholas' metamorphosis into Captain America, and the lacing of his bones in adamantium. Years later, while under the treatment of Doctor Jameson, then a psychiatrist for DOME, they had discovered that a great deal of the unresolved anguish in his life stemmed from that first raid and the atrocities he committed right here. He had brought Nicholas back here to deal with those events. As he thinks back on that time of healing he realizes he had never thanked his friend for the extra effort. Then, adrenaline hammers into Page's bloodsteam. Simialrly, the hairs on the back of his head stand up, and his stomach twists into knots. He knows these sensations well. They are a part of him. He has come to trust them without question as the manifestation of his nearly supernatual ability to sense impending danger. Once he had thought them the side effect of DOME's super soldier serum. He has since discovered that his gift is actually the result of a 'glitch' in his DNA. It is a curse he both hates and loves. Without a second thought he dives to the side. This single act alone saves his life as the air he just occupied feels the shockwave of some force bolt slamming into the wall. Cursing himself, Nicholas lets his anger simmer and build in a controlled manner. He had been so tied up in the nostalgia of the past he had forgotten about the very real danger of the present. Again he moves, rolling the oposite direction and behind him he hears glass of the floor lighting system shatter beneath an assault much like a hammerstrike. He fights the urge to look back, forcing himself to trust 'his gift'. He comes out of his roll into a dead run at the far wall. He feels his advesary behind him, bearing down on him. He waits until his trusted "danger sence' warns him that the final instant for escape has arrived and he throws himself forward, striking the wall with both feet, then springing in the opposite direction in an olympic quality back flip. As he tumbles in the air, he sees below him a slice of darkness slash across his vision, hears the wall crumble, tastes the concrete and steel. As he lets his instincts guide his body, his mind slows down, becomes clear. The world around him, in his perception, seems to slow down to a crawl. By the time he lightly touches down behind his assailant, he is ready for anything. But he is not ready for her. He sees an inky blackness in eerie relief against the pale blue lighting. She is graceful, beautiful, sensuous, but only in a shadow-like silloette. She turns, and where he should have met her eyes he meets only two thin slits in the darkness burning with a white-blue fire. America's heart pounds in his chest. He can mutter but a single word. " Shadowdeath." His voice betrays his un-belief. SHE should not be here. She is a legend whose legacy dates back to the heroic age. When the Deadpool was young, she was there, at Marker's side. It is said she was the first assasin, and some say she will be the last, to claim the Deadpool. His amazement at seeing her stems from the fact that she has not participated in an active Deadpool for nearly a decade, not needing either the money or recognition. No, there is only one reason that she would come out of semi-retirement, and that is her personal agenda. She is easily the deadliest woman on earth. Nicholas Page harbors no misconceptions. He is in no way capable of defeating her. No one has ever defeated her. She has a perfect kill record. But something else inside him stirs. Something deeper than his fear. It is his pride, his drive for survival. It is true that he will die here, but she will know he was a foe worth her notice. His foe must have sensed a change in his resolve as well for her stance sinks into a crouch and her icy eyes narrow. Her stance becomes defensive as she steps back, her body kissing the shadows behind her. If not for his enhanced vision, Nicholas would have lost her then. His danger sense fires again, and faster than thought, Nicholas Page is in motion. Oddly enough, Shadowdeath's moves mirror his own. They sprint, opposite points of an axis as their circular path accelerates. With a grunt, Page launches himself to scale the wall of the hall, with her in relief on the inverse. Simultaneously they launch themselves at each other, arms reaching out to grapple. They meet in the air, and it seems that the world freezes in place as they clash. The room seems to spin, but they remain unmoving. America's senses are a buzz, when in the twinkling of an eye he realizes something is wrong. A chill begins to creep up his arms, the pain begins to distract him, and a tad bit of respectful fear creeps in. When time resumes, America twists in mid-air and spins, allowing centrifugal force to carry his foe away from him. He hits the ground hard, but rolls anyway. A little too late he regains his feet, just as a lance or darkness lands heavily upon his jaw. The sound is like a thunder crack and the force of the blow casts America aside in an uncontrolled tumble. America has survived hundreds of battles by knowing when he is outmatched. It has been a long time since he has had to admit that he was outclassed, but as he hits the ground again, he admits it here. His eyes come up, hooded beneath his brow, in a gaze of hatred and defiance. He knows the death blow is about to come because if the situations were reversed, this is when he would do it. Even to the end he struggles to regain his feet, but he knows he is moving too slowly. She strikes. He feels the impact, the blow carrying with it the taint of an icy chill, but to America's suprise, not the kiss of death. The force of the blow carries him up into the air. Realization hits him then. Shadowdeath is toying with him. She is treating him as a second rate rookie, not respected enough to fear. That thought angers him, and Nicholas Page vows to make her regret her views. Pushing past the pain he forces himself to twist in the air and prepare to land ready to retaliate. As he does, his mind begins to clear, and he examines his true position in this battle. He admits he knows very little of Shadowdeath's abilities. In fact, no one knows much about her. Those few to witness her power never survived long enough to pass on their knowledge. Thus, if he could not take advantage yet of her weaknesses, he must then capitalize on his own strengths. To do that he needs time. He lands in a crouch, then practically pounces forward and tucks into a flip. Already he feels his already taxed regenerative abilities attempt to compensate for the grueling technique. The should have at least suprised his foe, but she again moves to intercept him. However, at just the last instant Nicholas' instincts scream at him and he reverses direction. That is when he runs. America knows himself as well as any man on the planet and right know he knows that his advantages are few, but undeniable. First, time is on his side. Both his regenerative abilities and his uncanny knack for sizing up an enemy increase in effectiveness as time passes. Second, he has knowledge that his enemy does not. He knows this compound, the memories burned into his conciousness. He can use that knowledge to tip the scales in his favor. In an instant she too is sprinting, matching him step for step as he makes his way down the halls of ancient injustices. He begins to fathom a portion of her abilities, for this is the third time she has been able to mirror him so exactly. He smiles to himself. Yes, he will probably die this day, but she will pay for underestimating him. A left, then a right, all the time his nemesis but a step behind him. He arrives in a large circular room, spacious and spartan. It is here that he slaughtered the helpless all those years ago. He can still see the faded blood stains on the floor and walls. It is fitting that here he will make his final stand. He stops, and turns. For the first time, she comes up short, and it seems to Nicholas that she seems unsure of his intent. He grins, and readies his cog shaped shield. An instant later, he lets it fly, a deadly missle. It spins, and his aim is true as always. But instead of the familiar sound of contact, America recieves instead silence as the weapon vanishes within the darkness that is her body. His danger-sense screams, but this time too late. The blow comes with precision and power. He turns just in time to see his own shield lash out at him from a shadow just behind him. Like all of those before him, he realizes her power too late. She touches all shadows, she is shadow, and no-one can triumph against a shadow. The scene again plays out in slow motion, he feels his deadly shield strike his skull, his adamantium laced bones the only thing to save his life. He feels his conciousness fading as his head strikes the cold steel floor. The world constricts around him, and becomes like a tunnel. She moves to stand over him, knowing he can do nothing to stop her. She seems to nod in satisfaction as she speaks for the first time. Her voice is reminiscent of a winter frost. "I expected more from you." She reaches down to touch him and his thoughts turn to Maria, his daughter. Who will raise her? Will Austin? Swansong? It is over. He has failed. Failed as a father, and as a human being. She moves forward and the darkness envelops him, and then... something else. |