Next Best Thing
The fanfic that doesn't feature Madonna singing "American Pie"!

by Jim Smith

Chapter Eight! "Two Sparrows in a Hurricane!"

"You're lucky I don't cram my shield straight up your ass."

This was not Captain America.

Comments like this probably contributed to why John Walker's stint as a replacement for Captain America was extremely brief. Still, when it came to determination, he was easily a match for the "living legend of World War II"--wearing the Stars & Stripes and brandishing a shield as the USAgent, Walker had even gained membership within the Avengers. It was as if the man was determined to rub it in the true Captain's face: "I can do anything you can do, so even though I'm not you I'm still just as good." His poise and demeanor as a superhero were fueled by this base jealousy, and anyone who met him could feel it in his words.

Especially his inferiors. "I'm...I'm sorry, sir," the woman before the Agent stammered. Her codename was Wysper, and she was one of five armored mercenaries collectively known as the Jury. They were hired by Cordco Industries to remove a potential threat to its operations in Colorado. "I thought I could--"

"You _thought_ you could sneak off after hours and ambush a few of the Thunderbolts on your own--collect Cordco's prices on their heads for yourself,"* he snarled. The USAgent had been hired to make sure the Jury didn't screw the job up, and he had his work cut out for him. The Thunderbolts were a band of outlaw superheroes--ex-cons and fugitives entrenched in the Rocky Mountains, trying to escape lengthy prison sentences by fighting crime and saving lives. Like the Jury, the Thunderbolts were also led by a former Avenger, but the latter team still had the edge over the former in experience. USAgent knew the team wasn't ready for their quarry yet, which made Wysper's actions all the more frustrating. "I don't know where any of you get off, thinking you could do the job alone," he growled. "The seven of us together can't beat them as it is, so none of you have any business engaging in solo missions--"

[* Chapter 6.]

"With all due respect, sir..." Sentry had led the Jury prior to their association with Cordco and the USAgent--in a sense, he was the company sergeant, who commanded the team's respect and spoke on their behalf in front of their "superior officer." "With all due respect, you saw fit to take off on your own to take care of that situation at Ft. Colan,* and that was right after Mister Cord told us to stay out of the supervillain business in San Francisco--"**

[* CAPTAIN AMERICA vol. 3 #20 and ** THUNDERBOLTS #28, respectively.]

This stifled the Agent's rancor, but only for an instant. "Cord's orders were that the _Jury_ couldn't handle non-Thunderbolts matters, Sentry! _You're_ the jacked-up militia that needs his money for armaments and weaponry to engage the enemy. _My_ arrangement with our employer is that I can do as I please, provided my top priority is keeping you from getting killed. Those goons who attacked Ft. Colan were lightweights that I easily handled on my own. Graviton wouldn't have been, and the Thunderbolts--_any_ combination of the Thunderbolts--are equally dangerous."

"Still, though, sir," Sentry suggested, "At least Wysper confirmed that the T-bolts are operating somewhere near Burton Canyon. Based on the coordinates where she engaged Songbird and Archangel, we'll know where they're hiding out, and--"

"No," USAgent snapped, "because _they_ know we know! The Thunderbolts are probably getting their yuppie mutant friend to set them up in new digs even as we speak, and having a good laugh about it. This is _why_ Cord won't let you people operate without my supervision, people. And--"

"Agent."

He spun around to find a monitor had flashed to life. "Hm? Mister Cord, what are you--?"

Edwin Cord was in no mood for pleasantries. "I'm releasing you and the Jury from your contracts, Agent," he announced flatly. Clear out of the Boulder County facility and have the team's gear in storage by the end of the week."

The Jury was understandably upset. "What?!" Sentry exclaimed. "But, sir, why--?"

"It's not your concern," Cord snapped. "You'll all be properly compensated for your performance to date, but Cordco can no longer justify the expense of keeping you on the payroll. Good day."

For a long moment, the complex that housed the Jury's operations was completely silent, as its seven occupants absorbed the shock of their termination. When that had passed, another moment was spent by the Jury in preparing for their leader's reaction--obscenity-laden tirades, airborne furniture, et al.

But if the USAgent was astonished by this sudden turn of events, he didn't show it. The expression on his face was twisting, not into a vindictive snarl, but a self-satisfied smirk. "Well now..." he finally mumbled, "the Thunderbolts may just be as clever as I'd been led to believe..."

***

NEXT BEST THING The fanfic that doesn't feature Madonna singing "American Pie"! by Jim Smith

Chapter Eight! "Two Sparrows in a Hurricane!"

***

The wind bristled through the down of his wings, and the blue-skinned mutant known as Archangel felt his weight being carried up off the world.

And wasn't that a fair exchange, since the weight of the world had been lifted from his own shoulders? His confrontation with his comrade from the X-Men, Wolverine, had been tense, but he couldn't help but feel he'd absolved himself of any wrongdoing. Perhaps he _had_ abandoned his lover during a personal crisis, and run off to hide here in the Colorado Rockies rather than face his responsibility to Betsy Braddock. But the troubled telepath called Psylocke had spurned his assistance, and if even Wolverine could accept that, at least the guilt wouldn't dog him anymore. The X-Men would find her, help her with her problems, and she'd probably get on with her life. All he had left to do was overcome the pain of failing her...

But he'd found ways to redeem himself! That was what he was doing out here, flying higher and higher into the Rockies, looking for a secret hangar leading into the hideout of the world's most wanted fugitives. The Thunderbolts had deceived the public and nearly conquered the world, but they weren't altogether rotten people, and deserved a chance to prove it. So he'd helped them out, and then joined their team when they were in dire straits. Why, just today, he had eliminated Cordco's threat to the team--with a little help from Songbird, of course. Perhaps she and the others would never earn the forgiveness of society, but Archangel would do his best to make sure his friends would at least get the chance.

As he flew into the hangar, he wondered how the Thunderbolts would thank him for everything he'd done for them...

***

"All right, Songbird, where the hell were you two all night?" Hawkeye was ordinarily as majestic and imposing as his temper, but a recent injury had left the archer and former Avenger unable to assert himself on his feet. As he barked his question, he staggered a bit. He'd been recuperating steadily, but Wolverine's ambush hadn't helped his recovery.

Soft, gentle arms caught him with a strength that could tear a tank in half. Moonstone had been making romantic advances towards Hawkeye since he became the Thunderbolts' leader, and although she wasn't sure what she felt for him--was he a lover or a pawn?--she wasn't about to let him fall over. "Easy, Hawkeye," she cooed, "I'm sure there's a reasonable explanation for all this..."

A hell of a lot more reasonable, Songbird thought, as whatever was going on between those two. She noticed the other Thunderbolts--Atlas, Jolt, and Charcoal--were just as disturbed by this little development as she was. "We went out...training," she replied--addressing Hawkeye but glaring at Moonstone. "We were attacked by one of those creeps from the Jury, and when Archangel realized they worked for Edwin Cord, he thought of a way to stop them."

"I'm okay, Moon--Karla," Hawkeye mentioned, and eased over to a chair. "Why didn't he bring it up with me, Melissa?"

"I don't know," she shrugged, "we had to go to his place in New Mexico to pick up some clothes, then we flew to Cordco--we actually convinced Cord that Archangel is the team's corporate sponsor, and if the Jury 'harasses' us again, we'll sue him. The moron _bought it_, Hawkeye. He may not really believe I was Wings's lawyer, but we showed him we could get one if we had to."

"I take it your disguise is what's in that luggage?" Moonstone asked. "I'm...impressed, actually. That might solve our Jury problem, if you really conned him..."

Atlas was less congratulatory. "But I bet that whole bit would have gone down smoother with Moonstone playin' the part of 'Dewey, Cheatem, and Howe,' Melissa. No offense or nothin'--you probably did good--but Karla's got more experience with that sort of thing."

"And Angel woulda _known_ that, if he'd bothered to run the idea by me _first_!" Hawkeye was almost fuming. "I like him too, T-bolts, but if he keeps doing things his way in the middle of a team effort, we may have to--"

"Somebody mention my name?" Archangel zoomed into the commons from the hangar bay, pleased with himself and expecting a hero's welcome. Instead he was met with five angry faces. Songbird, on the other hand, was too busy wondering why Hawkeye had implied that Warren Worthington had a _history_ of not coordinating with the rest of the team. He joined the team to lend a hand while Hawkeye's injuries healed--in other words, the two of them hadn't been "in the middle of a team effort" together since the Graviton incident. Hawkeye he couldn't be speaking from personal experience--one of the others had to have told him Archangel was causing trouble. And she had a good idea who...

Her train of thought was interrupted as the other Thunderbolts vented their frustrations. "Nice of you to show up, Wings!" Jolt snapped. "While you were out with Songbird, we've been up since dawn trying to convince your X-Man buddy not to kill Hawkeye, because we couldn't tell him where you were!"

"Look, I can explain about Wolverine..." Archangel offered.

"Yeah?" Atlas boomed. "How about explainin' why he staked me out for a couple of hours back in town, then trailed me to our base?* Who the hell is out lookin' to get you, pal? 'Cause we got enough trouble on our own!"

[* Back in Chapter 6.]

"If we'd known where you _were_, none of this would've happened," Charcoal tried to point out as reasonably as he could.

Songbird glanced to each of them, seeing the hostility in their eyes. They all had a beef with him...even Charcoal, despite his tact. And there was Moonstone--all but doting on Hawkeye as he leaned on her for support--wearing a subtle grin on her face. She wanted this to happen, and Songbird hated for Moonstone to get her way...

"SHUT UP!"

The Thunderbolts all paused to give their surprised attention to her. "How can you all stand there and chew out Archangel?" she demanded. "If it wasn't for him, the Jury would probably be crawling all over our base by now! And yeah, so he doesn't think like the rest of us do about working within a team--he's only _been_ on the team for a few weeks! Hawkeye, I've heard all about how it was when you first joined the Avengers--are you going to stand there and tell me it was a piece of cake for the first couple of months?"

Hawkeye took that as a challenge. "Hey, you don't know nothin' about that, Melissa," he shot back, pulling himself forward in his chair. "It was a totally different situation..."

"Now hold on, boss," Atlas objected, "I know plenty about those days, and seems to me the Avengers were disbandin' every coupla days--even a dope like me had you on the ropes when I was Power Man...*"

[* Waaaaay back in AVENGERS vol. 1 #21-22.]

"Awright, awright," Hawkeye conceded. The Avenger was as stubborn a man as anyone would ever meet, but he had no love for debating a losing argument. "I know when I'm licked. Sorry to be so rough on you, Wings, but it goes like this: We aren't the X-Men. Sure, we all have to keep on our toes 'cause everybody hates an' fears us; but when you're a T-bolt, everybody hates an' fears you for a _reason_. That's why Wolverine picked a fight with us--he didn't trust us."

Archangel could barely look the Thunderbolts in the eye...he wasn't used to having his teammates corner him like this. The very first X-Men--Cyclops, Phoenix, the Beast, Iceman, Professor Xavier--no matter what group he was affiliated with, he'd always had at least one of these closest friends nearby to give him some support. But in the Thunderbolts, he was the loner, and he had to prove himself to them. It was a new predicament, and his instinct was to fall back--rush to the safety of his old friends and let them watch his back.

But as he slowly worked up the nerve to face the others, the easiest to look to was Songbird. She'd stood up for him, and even though he knew he'd have to swallow his pride, somehow seeing the righteous fury in her green eyes made it easier to bear--"You shouldn't have to take this," her face seemed to say. But he would, for the team's sake.

For her sake...

"No, you're...you're right, Hawkeye," he responded, trying not to choke on the words. "I'm used to playing it fast and loose, but I'm also used to working with people who know what to expect from me. If you'll give me another chance...I think we can make this work." His eyes met each Thunderbolt, searching for some sign that his words had affected them. Atlas, Charcoal, Jolt, Hawkeye, Songbird, Moonstone--all of them were considerably calmer than a minute earlier, he noticed. What he didn't notice was Moonstone's impressed smile, amused at his ability to extricate himself from a trap of her design.

Songbird turned to the team's leader. "Hawkeye?" she said, almost pleadingly.

"Ahhh...awright," he muttered. "No harm done, Wings. Let's just try to make sure it don't happen again." He lurched up out of his chair and shook Archangel's hand. As far as both men were concerned, the matter was settled. "Now, if you folks don't mind," the bowman added, "I'd kinda like to get back to bed. I hardly got any sleep, between Wolverine and...um...anyways."

"Ditto," Moonstone added, innocently. "I'll help you back to your quarters, Hawkeye..."

The Thunderbolts gaped as the pair walked away, arm-in-arm. They'd been distracted by Archangel and Songbird's sudden arrival, but now their attention was refocused on Wolverine's snide remarks during the earlier brawl. "I can smell you all over your fearless leader," he'd said to Moonstone, and it wasn't hard for any of them to believe. Songbird had missed the scandalous comments, and even she was wondering about the way they were acting around one another.

Archangel, however, merely stood apart from the group and rolled his eyes--after a few years living with the X-Men, he hadn't been shocked at all to find Hawkeye and Moonstone in a compromising position earlier in the day.* He'd told them not to act guilty about it or try to conceal it, and this was why. Instead of having the team's gradual acceptance and support, all the new lovers had was the Thunderbolts' suspicion and contempt. Then again, sometimes suspicion and contempt seemed to be all the Thunderbolts understood.

[* Back in Chapter 4. Cripes, this day's spread across too many chapters, ain't it?]

"Look..." he offered to the others, "you see a couple of teammates suddenly getting close, it's no big deal. Happens to me all the time." He found himself tensing up as he spoke. "I don't suppose any of you were pursuing Hawkeye or Moonstone romantically?" The question was met by little more than scoffs and amused grunts from Songbird, Atlas, Charcoal, and Jolt, all of whom found the notion ludicrous at best.

"Then no harm done," he said with a tone of finality. "Could have been worse; let's move on."

And with that, the Thunderbolts began to go about their daily business: Jolt and Charcoal debated how to explain their tardiness from school, Atlas went to check for any local disturbances...and Songbird began to wonder what it was that had struck such a raw nerve in Archangel...

***

Cordco Industries' Denver offices were unusually quiet for the rest of the day--the staff didn't dare disturb the CEO as he sulked in his office. Edwin Cord hadn't left his inner sanctum since Warren Worthington had stopped by and essentially bluffed Cord into firing USAgent and the Jury. The secretarial pool began to whisper among themselves that Cord could have suffered a stroke and fallen over dead, for all any of them knew. They still preferred to leave him be rather than risk his ire, however.

Cord knew what his employees must have been thinking--he was too savvy in his business not to understand the mindset of his organization. He didn't care to let them be terrified, because they had every right to be terrified of crossing him. He hated losing. It was hard enough to take the Jury's failure to capture the Thunderbolts, but being forced to give up was even worse. The Jury would undoubtedly feel they deserved a better explanation than he'd given him that morning, but it was too nauseating for him to even look at the personification of his defeat. The last thing he wanted to think about was the Jury, let alone the...

"Sir? Sir, I'm sorry, I _tried_ to tell him you weren't seeing anyone, but he wouldn't--" The poor receptionist was pushed aside by the large man bursting into Cord's office. The American flag motif against basic black was unmistakable, but it was obscured by a splint on his arm, tape on his ribs, and a thick plaster cast around his wrist in place of a shield.

"Mister Cord, sir? I'm back," USAgent declared. "And I think we can take the Thunderbolts down for goo--"

Tendons in Cord's neck were pulled taut as he sneered. "Agent, I _told_ you already..."

He nodded to his ex-employer, not fully realizing the situation. "Sir, I know we agreed the Jury wasn't ready, but we've got the Thunderbolts at a disadvantage this time, I'm sure of it!"

"Didn't I fire you this morning?" Cord sighed, and then became fascinated by the vigilante's condition. "And...why are you bandaged up like that? What happened to you?"

"Fired?" The USAgent blinked. "Sir, I've been laid up in an Army hospital for weeks! That new shield I took with me to Ft. Colan--it blew up in my face, and busted me up pretty damn bad.* But I figured out...there was something unstable about the vibranium!"

[* As seen in CAPTAIN AMERICA vol. 3 #20.]

Cord rose from his chair. "Agent..."

"That's why we haven't seen Hawkeye on the networks, sir--he has vibranium in his arrows, and they must have gone off on him like my shield did to me! Only I'm suckin' it up and coming back on duty ahead of doctor's orders...and the Thunderbolts won't be ready for it with their leader still in traction! It can't miss--"

"If you've been in the hospital," Cord interrupted, urgently, "then who in blazes did I talk to this morning?"

He was no Captain America, to be sure, but the USAgent still didn't need a moment's hesitation to make the mystery sink in. "Dammit," he muttered. "Where's the Jury now? When did you last contact them?"

"That's what I've been trying to tell you, Agent--the Thunderbolts left me no choice...they should be packing up their things back and leaving as we speak..."

If there had been more time, John Walker might have stuck around and introduced Cord to the excessive force he'd just fired, but that wasn't a priority. He was out of the building and on his way to the Jury's (former) place of residence in minutes, racking his brain and trying to remember all the enemies he'd made over the years. All he knew for sure was one of them had found a way to impersonate him and taken his place. Until he knew why, the Jury--_his_ people, dammit--were surely as good as dead...

***

The Justifier was off and flying through the mountain air before 5pm that night--well before the Cordco security personnel would notice that the Jury had kept the armor that their former employer had supplied them with. Firearm piloted the craft nervously, still unsure about his leader's change of heart.

Ramshot voiced this concern. "I don't get it, sir. How can we keep this armor without hacking off Cord?"

"Relax, Ramshot," Bomblast piped in. "I see the man's plan. We'll have it back before he notices we took it, and the T-bolts' heads will put him in a nice, forgiving mood!"

The USAgent--at least, the man who appeared to be him--said nothing, and merely nodded as if to indicate Bomblast's inference to be correct. "Now, Wysper, if you would," he said coolly, "show Firearm how to get to the spot where you encountered Songbird and Archangel..."

The rest of the Jury was all to happy to comply with any orders that led them to redeeming their failures and collecting the million-dollar bounties on the Thunderbolts. Sentry, however, was still unsettled by the USAgent's change in demeanor since their termination. "Sir? I don't understand...this morning you said it was pointless to track the Thunderbolts from that site."

The imposter looked over to him aloofly. "Hm?"

"You said Archangel would find them a new hideout by now..."

"Oh...that..." he smiled. "Yes...merely a ruse, boy. I was not ready to face that brood then. At the time..." He trailed off, leaving Sentry's curiosity unsatisfied.

"'At the time?'" Sentry repeated. "Sir, all that's changed since this morning is that we no longer have Cord's corporate backing...we've stolen all this equipment...at this point, we could be locked away as easily as the skels we're after in the first place. What's different?"

The ersatz USAgent shook his head and beamed with amusement. The irony was lost on Sentry, so he answered his underling's question. "At the time, I had aligned myself with...dishonorable...people."

Wysper turned her head to the back of the Justifier and caught part of the conversation. "Who do you mean, Cord?" she asked. "Don't worry about it, sir. We may not have approved of the T-bolts saving San Francisco while we stayed at home, but at least those jerks kept innocents from getting killed. There's nothing for you to blame yourself for."

"Besides," Firearm added, "we sure don't hold it against you that you worked for Cord...hell, we don't even mind that you and Hawkeye used to go way back, in the Avengers."

"You see, sir?" Sentry concluded. "Just because you've worked with a lot of 'dishonorable' types doesn't mean you can't count on _us_ to stick right by you!"

The man chuckled softly and nodded. "It would appear," he seemed to agree, "that I _never_ learn from experience..."

None of the Jury caught the left-handed compliment...

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