Next Best Thing
Interlude I -- Leper Messiah

by Jim Smith

In simpler times, there were villains--madmen bent on nothing less than overpowering all who were weaker than themselves--and heroes arose to challenge them in the defense of freedom. Some heroes prevailed; some met their fates as martyrs for their causes. All of them inspired new heroes to save the succeeding generations. One such hero was Citizen V. A valiant young man who died fighting against the tyranny of such colorful fiends as Baron Zemo, Citizen V was overshadowed by more prominent heroes who survived him to carry on the traditions.

But now all the heroes were gone--vanished in battle against an unstoppable foe named Onslaught--and Citizen V's name rose up from the ashes to instill hope amid the gaping chasm of despair. A new man wore the mantle of Citizen V with pride, and led a new band of heroes--the Thunderbolts. And now, within a month of their debut, that awesome team stood assembled in their headquarters.

Almost assembled. Present and accounted for were three of his Thunderbolts--Meteorite, Techno, and Atlas. Two were absent; both should have known by now that Citizen V was not a man to be kept waiting. He was hardly the noble hero he claimed to be; in fact, he was Baron Helmut Zemo, the son of the man who had battled with--and murdered--the first Citizen V years before. This Zemo had assumed the alias out of a sense of irony, and indeed the Thunderbolts were based around the same irony: The world's great new hope was in fact a thinly-veiled cadre of notorious super-criminals.

Abner Jenkins was one of them. As a Thunderbolt, he'd assumed the codename "MACH-1," so as not to be recognized from his criminal career as the Beetle. Either way, Jenkins had worn winged armor to achieve his goals. But whereas the Beetle had sought out a largely solitary existence, in the Thunderbolts he'd learned a great deal about socializing within a team...a very great deal.

For one thing, he'd learned not to be late for meetings. "I'm here!" he exclaimed as he burst through the door, frantically attaching one of the components of his armor as he took his seat.

"Yes...I should hope so, MACH-1," Citizen V added, unerringly referring to his teammates by their assumed names so as not to slip in public. His stare was labeled as "determined" by the press, who bought into the Thunderbolts' scheme; the Thunderbolts themselves knew it to be better described as "cold." MACH-1 knew he'd catch hell for this...

"Ain't like you an' Songbird to be late, Abner..." Atlas pointed out, trying to keep his teammate out of trouble. Another thing MACH-1 had learned in this team was camaraderie. The others might simply have been allies, but Erik Josten was a friend. Deep down, the size-changing mercenary had a heart of gold and a strong sense of loyalty. "Anything we should know about?"

Techno flashed a grin, accentuated by his sharp features and angular Vandyke. "Oh, don't be naive, Erik," he retorted, "it doesn't take a first-rate psychologist to read between _these_ lines..." He chuckled and looked to the woman across the table. "Why, even Moonstone can figure it out..."

Karla Sofen sighed audibly, less annoyed by the crude insult to her one-time profession than by the man's ineptitude. "It's _Meteorite_, Techno...Meteorite. And this isn't the first time you've forgotten to address me by the correct name. How would you like it if I called you 'Norbert Ebersol' the next time we're in a high-profile public appearance?"

"OK, OK," Techno smiled, "From now on I'll just call you 'baby...'"

"Enough," Citizen V demanded of his audience. "It's readily apparent that Songbird has been detained, and that I do not wish to know why. In the future, however, Thunderbolts business will be handled in a prompt and punctual manner..."

MACH-1 felt his face burn with embarrassment--mixed with the fear of inconveniencing a man like the dreaded Baron Zemo--as he listened, and tried not to make eye contact with the other Thunderbolts. But when the door to the office squeaked open for the last time, he couldn't help but catch a glance.

Citizen V sneered at the second interruption. "Songbird," he said, in a mixture of frustration and eerily determined calm. "Take your seat. Now." She complied quickly, quietly. Abner could tell from the look on the timid young woman's face that she'd had the fear of God in her eyes when their leader was angry. She was blushing ever so slightly, and he could tell from the looks of the others that he was too.

Techno smiled, stroking his chin as he eyed MACH-1 and Songbird. "Now, where have _you_ been, Mimi? Hmmm?" he asked innocently.

"Really, Techno," Meteorite groaned, "Jolt will only be asleep for a few more hours, and I for one want to get this over with before she wakes up to find us in a meeting that might arouse suspicion of our true identities."

"Indeed," Citizen V added. "Circumstances in our defeat of Arnim Zola* have left us with the sole survivor of his genetic experiments, and turning her away from the Thunderbolts' ranks will hurt our public image. Leaving her in the team, however, presents an...annoying complication to our long-range plans. Ms. Takahama must not be allowed to learn the truth during her stay here, but she must also not be allowed to suspect we are anything more or less than...family." Everyone present could tell the words seemed foreign to the joyless German aristocrat.

[* It happened in THUNDERBOLTS #4.]

Meteorite offered her recommendation. "We can learn from our...predecessors, if you will--superhero teams with varying degrees of confidentiality, like the Avengers, the Pantheon, X-Factor..."

"What-Factor?" Atlas blinked.

"Never mind," she shrugged. "My point is, Hallie will believe us if we tell her we can only reveal our first names to her."

Techno nodded. "Sounds feasible. Just so we're all on the same page, I'll tell her to call me 'Paul'. My first name lacks the dynamic flair of 'Norbert,' but I suppose the banality should keep her from suspecting she's met...the Fixer!" He grinned at his own tongue-in-cheek melodrama. "The good baron's persona gives us more leeway--a mysterious cloaked figure who demands privacy--heck, we could tell her you haven't even told _us_ who you are, C.V."

"Agreed," Citizen V replied. "Then if we're settled upon the names you'll use--Paul, Karla, Mimi, Erik, Abner--"

"Abe."

Songbird's voice was heard for the first time since she came in. The Thunderbolts collectively stared at her, incredulous--except for MACH-1, whose jaw dropped instead. "Ah..." she stammered, "well, isn't that what you told me to call you...Abe?"

MACH-1 wished for all the world that he'd brought his helmet to the meeting--he could feel his face getting red. "Um...yeah. Yeah, I did. Like I said, I never cared for 'Abner,' uh...Melissa."

Techno blinked again. "_Melissa_?"

"Yeah, Melissa," MACH-1 retorted. "It's her real name, all right?"

Citizen V muttered. "Yes, yes...let's all get know each other _personally_...sigh. Were my father to see me now..."

MACH-1 barely paid attention to his leader's misgivings as he exchanged a nervous glance with Songbird. It wasn't telepathy--even the Thunderbolts weren't capable of such awesome power--but in the heat of the moment it was hardly uncanny that two mortal humans could say so much in the blink of an eye. He relished in these unsaid words:

(Are you there?)

(Yes, I am. I didn't fall off the face of the earth, after all.)

(Oh I know, but--how can you be the same person I was with when we...)

(Oh, it was me, all right. I can't believe it either.)

(I'm scared.)

(So am I--we'll work it out.)

(They're all wondering about us.)

(Let them wonder...)

(Yeah...)

(Yeah...)

***

"That's not true! I'm not a lackey! I have a reputation! I have a track record! People _know_ what I can do--they do!"

"They _do_? Then why is your old partner Mentallo higher on the most wanted lists than _you_ are?"

"You're lying! You're lying! I'm accessing S.H.I.E.L.D. files right now! Interpol files! He's _thirty-seven_ places _lower_ on the lists than--"

Abe stirred slightly from his sleep, wondering why he had dreamt of _that_ particular conversation. It had only been a day earlier--a day ago that the Thunderbolts were on the verge of conquering the world despite the return of the heroes who fell against Onslaught. That was the day Jolt had persuaded Meteorite, Songbird, Atlas, and himself to rebel against Citizen V--or Baron Zemo. Whichever it was.

It was Meteorite who used her psychological trickery on Techno, comparing him to his former partner to distract him while the world's true heroes--the Avengers and the Fantastic Four--found a way to shut down the defenses he concocted for Zemo's base. The remnants of the Thunderbolts were now at the mercy of the global authorities they tried to subvert, but at least they'd earned a small reprieve from their actions.*

[* A brief summary of the classic THUNDERBOLTS #11-12.]

"Hey, it's not that simple. They may have started off wrong, but they did the right thing in the end, and--"

Abe had certainly been surprised to find Hawkeye--an Avenger he'd knocked around a time or two in his Beetle days--standing up in the Thunderbolts' defense. The archer's words might have had merit, but fate intervened unexpectedly before the Thunderbolts could turn themselves in peacefully. During their adventures as ersatz heroes, they had encountered the robotic Growing Man**, and inadvertently triggered a chain of events in another dimension. And so, moments after the defeat of Baron Zemo, the Thunderbolts found themselves teleported away to the courts of Kosmos...

[** Way back in THUNDERBOLTS #5]

"What's going on? Why were we brought here?"

"Why, because of the message, of course! It was a warning...it told of a Blue Man--a Blue Man of Earth, of the future, who would one day come to Kosmos...and conquer us all!"

His subconscious recollected the Kosmosian prince's words vaguely--the Thunderbolts deduced that they created the Growing Man and more like him in the future. "They knew that their creations would be sent to the past, to be secreted in various eras to serve the Blue Man--and so they hid an alert beacon in each of them to warn us..."

From there they had been drawn to this dimension by the frightened Kosmosians, curious about the Thunderbolts' association with the Growing Man and fearful of the humans who would give rise to their Blue Man. And here he was, half-dreaming about these recent events--wanted on Earth for crimes he committed, awaiting execution on Kosmos for a possible future he had nothing to do with.***

[*** For the whole story, see THUNDERBOLTS #13-14.]

Melissa clung to him as she slept against his chest, rarely stirring. It was slightly uncomfortable--he tended to toss and turn in his sleep, and couldn't when he was pinned down by her weight--but it was easily overcome by his love for being near her. She murmured in her sleep and snuggled a bit closer to him. His waking thoughts began to fade as he drifted back into sleep...eased by his lover's touch...

***

Why was he remembering these things? At Four Freedoms Plaza with the Thunderbolts...asleep in a Kosmosian prison...the memories didn't feel as though they came naturally. But what was making them rise up to his surface thoughts...?

***

Somewhere in Colorado...

"So," she said.

"So," he answered.

"I'll ask you one more time," she told him, putting her hands on his shoulders. "Don't turn yourself into the cops. Screw the Thunderbolts business. We'll run off, lose ourselves in the mountains, ditch our equipment, and start over somewhere...together..."

Her voice was solid, confident, resolute. They'd come to this remote spot to be alone--together one last time--but Melissa wasn't going to leave until Abe agreed not to surrender to the authorities the next day. She'd asked him twice before, and each time he'd made it clear why he had to.

The Thunderbolts had been living on the lam ever since they found their way back from Kosmos.* After their spectacular "escape" from the law, they were sure they'd never be given any leniency in a trial for their crimes, and decided to wander through the Rockies fighting crime. But no one's mind was changed by their good deeds--their crimes cast too dark a shadow to escape from. But now, finally, they had a hope: Hawkeye had made his way across the country with a daring plan to take responsibility for the Thunderbolts and shape them into heroes. His sole condition was that the only known murderer in the team answer for his crimes. And that was MACH-1.

[* THUNDERBOLTS #15-22.]

"You know what I'm going to say, babe," he replied.

"Dammit!" An flame blazed in her green eyes before she regained her composure. "Dammit...this is because I was so harsh the past few weeks...I shouldn't have...I'm...sorry..."

The tearful sound of her voice was more than he could bear, and he pulled her to him, holding her close. "It's not like that," he said softly, resting his head against her shock-white hair. "Don't ever think that. Yeah, you were kind of rough on me--" she sniffled at the painful reminder and he squeezed her more tightly in his arms "--but you had your reasons. I don't hate you for it, you understand?"

She looked up at him, fighting back the tears, and tried to answer. A squeaking "mm-hm..." was all that could escape her throat.

"It's not that I _wouldn't_ want to go somewhere and spend all my time living a normal life...with you." He sighed heavily, never giving himself the luxury of collapsing into his despair; not when he had to be strong for her. "But I have to leave tomorrow no matter what, and this way I can make sure you get a better shot at a life like that. You and all of the T-bolts."

There was nothing Melissa could say to debate that point, and she knew it. For a long while they simply stood there, in the middle of nowhere, holding each other tight and trying not to break the silence.

"I don't know when I'm gonna see you again," Abe finally said, almost crushing her in his embrace. Her hair brushed against his chest as she nodded sadly. The statement of that truth was enough to make them both wish they could hold onto one another forever, until finally he reached for her chin, gently lifted her head up to meet his...

...and they said their unspoken goodbyes.

***

It was a simple decision, he thought as he sat in the dark cell. Taking the fall for the Thunderbolts meant Songbird could stay free, learning under Hawkeye's guidance how to make the world forgive her and accept her the way Abe had. So he agreed to do it; to go to Seagate Prison and face the consequences of the Thunderbolts' crimes. His choice. And every second he spent in solitary confinement--in his do-it-yourself hell--was all for her. It broke her heart to see him go, but he was willing to do that to her for her sake.

In fact, he could break his own heart for her sake. "Melissa..." he whispered. "You've always thought you needed someone. Well, I guess you're gonna find out...since I won't be around. You don't have to wait for me..." He paused as he forced the words to his lips. "_I_ wouldn't."

His hell felt a little hotter as he tried to fall asleep...

+Self-pity is such an _obvious weakness, don't you think?+

He looked up, startled. "Who's there--?"

+You don't recognize the voice? I wouldn't think the mere fact that it's in your own head should make a difference...who else but Justin Hammer would have the resources to contact you in your rather..._confined_ state?+

Jenkins grimaced. He did indeed recognize Hammer's voice. The man was a billionaire, rich enough to do anything he wanted--and he usually did so through the covert employment of supervillains. As the Beetle, Abe had done a lot of Hammer's dirty work in exchange for funding and equipment,* and he knew the man was no telepath. "So, how _did_ you do this?"

[* As seen in IRON MAN vol. 1 #126-127 and #223-224.]

+Another captive in your home-away-from-home,+ Hammer explained, smoothly and casually. +Marvin Flumm...also known as Mentallo...I've been using him as a medium to communicate with several of your kind.+

At first it made no sense--he'd heard Mentallo had been reduced to a vegetative state in a battle with the Avengers, and shipped away in a stasis tube to god-knows-where.** Then again, that would have been the perfect cover for Hammer's operations, and Seagate certainly qualified as "god-knows-where." He shook his head as it finally sank in: He wasn't a superhero anymore; he was a convict, a common criminal, and the only reason Hammer was talking to him was to organize a jailbreak. "Where do you get off--"

[** IRON MAN/CAPTAIN AMERICA '98.]

+Offering you a way out?+ the voice confirmed. +Plans are in motion as we speak. With or without you. Your choice, Abner Jenkins...your choice.+

After a minute he felt secure that the voice was out of his head, and breathed a sigh of relief and trepidation. He sat there for a time, pondering those words, before he fell asleep. His choice...

***

None of this was right, he thought...how could it all be happening at once? It couldn't be real...what _was_ real? Why couldn't he think this out? Was he just half-asleep, dreaming in his cell? For all he knew, he was in Four Freedoms Plaza, having a nightmare that the Thunderbolts would be hunted and hounded until he got thrown in jail. Nothing made sense anymore...

"Wake up, Jenkins."

He pulled his long, brown hair out of his face and was immediately blinded by a flashlight beaming from the open door of his cell. "H-huh?" he muttered. "Wha--what's...?"

The two guards didn't like him--well, none of the guards in Seagate liked him, really--and had no interest in conversation. "Get up," one of them snapped. "You're bein' transferred."

Before he had time to consider this development--or why the guards seemed to be sneaking around the cell block, they were pulling him up by the shoulders and slapping a pair of handcuffs on his wrists. In seconds he was being dragged out of the place. "Move it, Jenkins. Time's a-wastin'," the other guard barked as they shoved him out the rear entrance.

By now he'd collected his thoughts, started to rouse from his sleep, and he was becoming cognizant of how bizarre this was. "What is this?" he asked in futility. "Where am I being transferred to? And why in the middle of the--huh?"

There was no police escort waiting for him on the outside. Just two people he'd never seen before, eyeing him over as though they'd spent months studying him. "Abner Roland Jenkins, a.k.a. the Beetle, a.k.a. MACH-1," the lanky man in dark glasses said to him. "I'm Agent Henry Peter Gyrich of the Commission on Superhuman Activities--" he glanced to the woman at his left "--and this is Agent Valerie Cooper. And as you've guessed, you're not _being_ transferred."

***

No...no, this wasn't right. It wasn't supposed to be this way. He shook his head and tried to make sense of it all. What did a couple of government agents want with him? A gentle touch against his shoulder, rousing him...Melissa? Oh, please, let it be...

Not Melissa. It was Agent Cooper, sitting next to him inside the futuristic transport they'd had parked outside Seagate when he met them. Gyrich was driving. "You'll get a chance to rest when we reach Washington," she told him. Right now you need to stay with us."

"Right, right," he answered sleepily. "So, what did you guys want?"

He saw Gyrich's sneering reflection in the rear view mirror as he spoke. "Where were you when the Rhino began the riot at Seagate last week?*" he demanded, losing his already scant patience.

[* See THUNDERBOLTS #26.]

"In solitary," Abe replied. He'd been jerked around enough that night, and went out of his way to answer in a tone that begged the question "where else _would_ I be?"

"He's lying to us already, Doctor," Gyrich snipped. "Still think this plan of yours will work?"

Cooper rolled her eyes. "Just _drive_, Henry." She turned back to Jenkins and tried to reassure him. "What Agent Gyrich means is, we've heard different accounts of that night. And we have reason to believe you're afraid to share your side of the story."

"Maybe I do."

She nodded. "The Commission just wants to know the truth...Abe. I assume you know Fred Myers, Donald Gill, and David Cannon?"

Jenkins raised an eyebrow at the sound of those names. "Boomerang, the Blizzard, and Whirlwind," he answered. Nothing to hide, really--it stood to reason that everyone present knew he'd associated with all of them as the Beetle. "What do they have to do with the riot?"

"When they were questioned," Cooper explained, "they said that before the Rhino went into a rage and incapacitated them, they were supposed to coordinate an escape attempt with him...and that you organized the plot."

"Did I?"

"That's what they said. Should we believe them?"

"_Why_ would you believe them?" he asked incredulously. "I was in the hole, for god's sake. Myers was the one who got me thrown in there. Why would we..._how_ would we organize a breakout?"

Gyrich sneered again--this time well aware that he could be seen in the mirror. "Another name you might know, Jenkins. Marvin Flumm. Back when you were working with those others, Flumm was running around with a fellow by the name of P. Norbert Ebersol--a name you _definitely_ know. It's a small world, isn't it, Jenkins? Wouldn't be hard for a friend of a friend to use his mutant telepathy to scratch a few backs, would it?"

"Mentallo's a vegetable," Abe shot back. "Good luck trying to prove he had anything to do with the riot."

"Oh, we don't have to prove it," Cooper noted. "Who won't want to believe it, given that it all hinges on connections you would have made through the Thunderbolts? But we have reason to believe you were invited to join in on the breakout, but turned around and quietly caused the freak accident that stopped the riot. We think Justin Hammer is setting you up..." He tried to look shocked, but she dismissed it. "Don't even try--we know all about Hammer's criminal activities. You're not what we're after, Abe; that's why this interrogation is happening on the outside. Give us what we need to take down Hammer..." Her voice grew quiet and sincere. "...and you can see her again, Abe. We know about you and Songbird...we know everything, Abe. We want to work something out..."

Abe Jenkins stared her straight in the eye and gave his answer. "You know what I'm going to say, babe."

Gyrich nearly swerved off the road. Babe?

"You don't know _anything_. I've been with the Thunderbolts long enough to have learned how to pull the perfect con, and this doesn't even come close. Maybe it's possible that a couple of government spooks found out I stopped the Seagate riot, and _maybe_ they'd interrogate Myers and Gill. But, why would they tell you the Rhino took them out? _I_ stopped them. So maybe they weren't giving their statements to the authorities--maybe they were trying not to sound incompetent when they were reporting to Justin Hammer. Too bad his telepathic toady didn't check to make sure they were telling the truth to him...or should I say, to _you_...Mentallo."

The transport had frozen in space and time while he'd been speaking, and Cooper was now giving him a sneer worthy of Gyrich. "How? How could you suspect? You shouldn't have--"

"The Thunderbolts know I started going by 'Abe,' but I haven't exactly made many friends since then who could have told that to 'Agent Valerie Cooper.' To know _that_, she'd have to read my mind. That wouldn't have made me think of you, except those dreams you made me experience kept bringing your name up. I think someone's a little egotistical, Flumm."

Cooper stammered, her visage fading from view as the scene began to evaporate from Abe's mind. In its place was a diminutive man with a thick beard hanging off the look of astonishment on his face. "Bah! It doesn't matter whether you know what's happening to you, Jenkins! Justin Hammer wanted you punished for your actions against him, and you will be! Thanks to me, you've been unconscious for days--living out these same memories, teasing you with the possibility of reuniting with your beloved Melissa--but now that you know it's not real, I'll simply have to come up with something else."

Abe refused to give Mentallo the fearful reaction he hoped for, so he continued. "They don't know what's wrong with you, Jenkins--they've got you hooked up to an IV, lying on a bed not far from the stasis chamber I reside in. They'll never realize that I'm to blame, because they think that my mind shut down when my body was incapacitated by Iron Man and Captain America--that I'm as much a victim as you!"

Now he began to provoke the shivers that he wanted, and he smiled triumphantly. "Oh, don't worry much, Thunderbolt--I'm sure _someday_ I'll be able to repair the damage to my brainstem and walk out of this prison, and you'll be free of my power. But it may be an awfully long ti--"

***

He tossed and turned, trying to hold on to the dream, to the image of her in his arms...but reality reared its ugly head and forced him to come back. Melissa was gone, the memory of her touch fading as he opened his eyes, coming to in an unfamiliar setting.

Abe remembered...he remembered everything that had happened with Mentallo. All the memories that he'd experienced, they'd been amplified by the mutant's telepathy to the point that they seemed so _real_...it was a jolt to suddenly find himself back in Seagate, even it was the prison's infirmary instead of his own bleak cell. He tried to sort it out--deduce what must have happened to Mentallo to cause him to release his mental grip. Instead, all he could do was think of Melissa and how it felt to be back at her side...even if it hadn't really happened the way he was remembering it.

He never noticed the area where Mentallo's stasis chamber resided--it was within his view, or at least it had been until just moments before he regained consciousness. He simply laid there, motionless in the bed. So much more comfortable than the dingy cots in solitary. Nobody needed to _know_ he had just come out of his coma...not yet anyway. He could close his eyes and enjoy the rare luxury, and maybe dream about her. He knew it wouldn't be the same, of course--not like Mentallo's torturous scheming.

But it was the next best thing...

***

"FLUMM..."

Mentallo immediately realized the voice he heard was unfamiliar. It was definitely not Abe Jenkins--he had vanished from the mental scene somehow--and it didn't resemble the manner in which he'd communicated with Justin Hammer. He tried to ask who was there, but the words did not come. That was when it hit him--the voice emanated from the waking world, where he had barely the consciousness to speak.

"I..." the voice said, as if to answer his unspoken question, "...AM THE MASTER..."

Of what, he wished he could retort.

"OF EVERYTHING. OF THE WORLD. OF _YOU_, FLUMM..."

He would have trembled, if not that for his lack of motor function. Which begged the question, then: How was it this voice could communicate with him, if he was still incapacitated?

"HMHMHMHAHAHAHA..." the deep, booming laughter chilled even his unresponsive body to the bone. "HOW, YOU ASK? HOW MIGHT I REDEEM YOU FROM YOUR WEAKNESS IF SUCH POWER WERE NOT MINE TO WEILD? FOR I AM THE MASTER, FLUMM..."

There was a shimmering light that seemed to burn straight through his eyelids. "...AND YOU ARE WORTHY...TO BE THE FIRST..."

[next part]

back to Jim Smith's stories | Miscellaneous archive | X-Men archive | comicfic.net