THE AVENGERS
“Practice Run“
Issue 440

Written by Gary Dreslinski and Dave Skorupa

AVENGERS MANSION : THE TRAINING ROOM

Forge ripped the repulsor blaster off the training wall, touched it to twin wires and a grounding line connected to a chemically powered circuit in his leg, and aimed the hastily-fashioned weapon at Captain America.

That is, he aimed it at where Captain America WAS. Forge turned around, trying to find his target, and just as his eyes locked in, the heavy round shield ripped the crude blaster out of Forge’s hand.

"Iron Man wouldn’t approve of the way you’re treating his technology," Captain America said as the shield rebounded off a steel wall and started its return.

Forge’s mind raced. After reading all of the files on Captain America, he thought he was prepared for a combat situation against him. The files only scratched the surface - pages of reports couldn’t capture decades of combat experience, no matter how well researched.

Captain America closed the gap with a forward flip, and landed with a right kick into Forge’s stomach. The wind left his lungs in a rush. Forge fought to regain his breath, gasping in short desperate heaves. He knew dealing with Captain America was going to be difficult, but he didn’t expect to be caught on the losing end of combat so quickly.

"Had enough?" Captain America said, offering a hand.

Forge grabbed the twin wires still dangling from his leg and stabbed them into Captain America’s arm. The power surge knocked the star-spangled Avenger off his feet and onto his back.

"No, - I guess - not," Forge said, in between gasps.

Captain America rubbed the back of his head.

"Clever," he said.

"Desperate," Forge replied, "but desperate - sometimes - does the job," he finished, finally regaining a handle on his breathing

"Your point is… ?" Captain America asked.

"I’m not sure there IS a point, really." Forge replied, "But I’m open to talking things out - if you are. We’ve been sort of going at each other ever since I got the appointment to join the Avengers. I sense we want the same things for the team, we just have different ideas of how to bring those things about."

"Maybe," Captain America said, "but there are some things you need to get straight first."

"Such as… ?" Forge asked.

"Such as, people aren’t ‘appointed’ to join the Avengers - they prove themselves in combat and are asked to join. You are here as a liaison only. Take it from me, even if the person being ‘appointed’ to the team is a good friend, it can create problems," Captain America said as he raised himself from the floor.

Forge hesitated, and asked "good friend?"

"A man named the Falcon. You’ve read the files," Captain America said, and started to walk away.

"Still, we should talk about the team," Forge said.

"Not now. Maybe later," Captain America answered and continued to walk away.

"Take it down a notch, soldier," Captain America thought to himself. Yes, Forge was forced on the team by the government, but that didn’t make the man an enemy. Captain America laughed to himself - that power surge to his arm still stung a bit - did getting caught off-guard like that meant he was off his game, or that deep down he really DID trust Forge and didn’t expect such a questionably-timed attack?

There were other recent matters he didn’t expect. The whole team was deteriorating. They were getting their heads handed to them in battle after battle. Being "the Avengers" was supposed to mean reaching a certain training and working level as a team, but this latest group… well… something very important was missing, he knew that for certain. If this level of performance was considered "acceptable" then maybe the Avengers should just call it a day and shut down shop.

Captain America repeated the thought to himself: Shut down shop.

The reality of the thought jarred him. In all his years as an Avenger, he had never considered calling an end to the team. He remembered the day when he had to rebuild the whole team, with little-trained adventurers like Hawkeye, Wanda and Quicksilver. Something was wrong with this team of Avengers. Maybe it was the team…. Maybe it was HIM. Was it time to let someone else lead the team?

MEANWHILE, IN YELLOWJACKET’S QUARTERS…

The television weatherman’s hair was just a bit too perfect, Yellowjacket decided, as the evening forecast was announced. Clear skies, 68 degrees, and those staying up past midnight outside the city lights would be treated to the fireworks of a meteor shower filling the night sky.

"The meteor shower sounds interesting," Yellowjacket’s guest said.

"Big rocks from space traveling close to earth is dangerous, not ‘interesting.’ And speaking of dangerous, I gotta tell ya, being an Avenger these days is like being Bogart in Casablanca - you don’t know who’s gonna turn up holding a gun next!" he exclaimed.

"I don’t think I understand your point," his guest said.

"Well, it’s kinda like this: Since Dr. Amazing turned out to be a phony, who’s next? I mean, c’mon, the whole team is acting kinda crackers. Cap - he’s angry the team isn’t living up to his standard of excellence. Like anyone ever could… Quasar - he’s Dudley Do-right in tights, no talking to the man without getting some cornball speech. He makes Cap look like Dennis Hopper when it comes to the uptight department, for crying out loud. And Vision - Vision’s got a microchip loose or something. One minute he’s as detached as a preacher at a frat party, the next he’s all gushy like some soap opera star," Yellowjacket said.

"Should you leave the team, maybe get back to research?" the guest asked.

"Nahh, full-time research is for wimps. I like the action, you know that. But, I don’t like worrying that one of my teammates is going to stab me in the back while I’m tryin’ to save the day. For all we know, the government sent that Forge guy in to deliver the deathblow the next time we’re up against it. That, or one of the others has some sleeper program stuck in their heads, just waiting for Angela Lansbury to come out dressed as the Queen of Hearts - "

"I don’t understand the reference," the guest said.

"The Queen of Hearts - from the Sinatra movie, The Manchurian Candidate. This guy gets brainwashed by the commies during the Korean War. He’s programmed to play solitaire until he sees the Queen of Hearts. Once he spots the red queen, he flips a mental switch, pretty much loses his mind and becomes a killing machine. In the end, he nearly takes out a Presidential candidate with an army rifle right in the middle of a political convention. Man, you really HAVE missed out on pop culture over the years, haven’t ya?" Yellowjacket said.

"I guess you’re right. Sorry. Too much overtime, not much left for the movies. Speaking of going to the movies, what do you think about Ms. Marvel?" the guest asked.

"What about Ms. Marvel - you got designs on her, do ya?" Yellowjacket asked, as a devilish grin crossed his face.

"Maybe," the guest replied, somewhat sheepishly.

"Can’t say I blame you from a ‘looks’ standpoint. She’s a knockout, to be sure. Still, if a guy like Namor couldn’t turn her head away from Cap, how the blue blazes you figure a guy like YOU has a shot, huh?" Yellowjacket said, as a sarcastic grin crossed his face.

"Oh, I don’t know," the guest replied.

"Well, we’ll see," Yellowjacket replied as he looked down into the mirror and saw his guest, the diminutive Ant Man, staring back at him.

"Ant Man?" Yellowjacket thought, "that isn’t - right, is it?"

Yellowjacket rubbed a hand across the back of his neck and shut his eyes. Ant Man couldn’t be here, could he?

Yellowjacket opened his eyes. Ant Man was gone.

Yellowjacket wondered why he suddenly felt the urge to play solitaire.

THE MONITOR ROOM

The Vision was on monitor duty.

The Vision’s memory had long records of his shifts at Monitor duty. He often thought of erasing uneventful shifts to make room for other memories, but that was something a mere machine would do, not something a complex inorganic human would do. Early as an Avenger, he used to sit in the chair and use his optical receptors to view the television screens, and performed the task the same way as his teammates.

A few years ago, he learned he could wirelessly "plug in" to the security systems via an internal transmitter functioning as a modem. This connection left his optical receptors free for other activity.

That’s when he began to play solitaire during monitor duty.

He did not understand the appeal the game held for organic humans, but hoped that by playing the game, he might somehow stumble upon its charm, and thus connect with a small aspect of organic humanity that had - to this point - eluded him.

He flipped the cards.

Two of clubs. Eight of diamonds. Jack of clubs. Seven of spades. Queen of hearts.

He stared at the last card. The thought of a red queen suddenly reminded him of Wanda.

Without warning, he was suddenly crying. Not a simple tear, but a heavy sobbing, with painful heaving of chest and agonized wailing.

He shook so violently that he fell out of the chair.

And then, as suddenly as it started, the Vision stopped crying. He lifted himself off the floor, and returned to his seat.

"An emotional trigger, out of context with sensory input. Run correctional utility program on neural net sections 2117a9 through 5678c3, cross with all references to keywords RED, QUEEN, DIAMONDS and WANDA," He thought, sending the command to his internal programming for immediate processing.

The Vision returned to his game of solitaire.

MUCH LATER

THE OBSERVATION DECK OF THE EMPIRE STATE BUILDING

Membership had its privileges. Carol Danvers had known that most of her life, in one capacity or another, but it always seemed like the first time when the Avengers ID opened up a world foreign to the outside world. Such as an after hours view from atop such a historic structure. Certainly she could have just flown up and landed without anyone being any the wiser. But there was just something about a flash of a badge, and a hint of a smile that reminded her of the old days, reminded her of better times. Bringing their own folding chairs had been her idea, Wendell Vaughn , her teammate Quasar, tagging along had been his own. She didn’t mind the company, in fact she considered him to be fairly decent to hang out with, although a bit too dry at times for her own tastes. Granted, she was usually drawn to dry, boring men, or their exact opposites. There wasn’t very much in between it seemed. Captain America or Namor. The good solider or the raging Prince. Wendell though, hadn’t come along for any agenda that she had been able to detect. He just seemed to think that the idea of two beings capable of flying into the heavens themselves, breaking free of Earth’s atmosphere as easily as they breathed it in, taking the time to watch a meteor shower in the middle of Manhattan was funny. Considering that she felt the same way, she had let him join what she had planned as a step in getting her head clear once and for all. She felt a chuckle catch in her throat, she glanced over to Wendell to see if he had noticed. He hadn’t, being far too occupied with gazing at the night sky as if awestruck. There were times she felt so confident, so self assured. The moment when you realize that the time that you took to be by yourself to sort out your life beyond men ended up being the time when you said “yes” to yet another one finding his way into your personal space wasn’t one of those. It was funny though. She leaned over, almost letting the words out of her mouth. Wendell would probably think it was pretty funny too, but then again, maybe he wouldn’t. Perhaps he’d just decide to leave, to give her the space that she needed. That was a good thing personal wise, but not a very good one for the sake of team unity. The group had been through far too much of late for her not to give a little bit of herself, and her time, to the people she had to trust.

Trust. The word still wasn’t very firm on her tongue. There were so many variables now that there had been a traitor exposed. What if…

“What if we still have programming?” Wendell voiced for her.

She looked up, startled out of her own thoughts. “What?”

“I was just thinking, what if we still had some sort of programming left over from Amazing? Some sort of Trojan horse, just waiting for the right time to come out and get us.”

“Everyone’s been thoroughly checked over…”

“But what if it were something small, or something they weren’t looking for…”

“You’re awfully morbid tonight. That’s not like you.”

Wendell shrugged, “Then I guess you don’t know me as well as you think you do. Which is pretty scary isn’t it? That maybe none of us knows the others the way we think we do.”

Carol nodded thoughtfully, “That’s how they win though.” she suggested. “The more suspicion that exists between us, the more it can be used to tear us down from within as easily as without.”

“True… I can’t help but think though…”

“While you’re doing all that thinking, maybe I can pick that brain of yours.”

Wendell flashed his literally dazzling smile. It was a trick of light of course, and didn’t really work all that well with the ladies over the years, but it had become force of habit. “Sure thing”.

“What do you think of the team?”

“Um, well I…”

“Honestly. If it weren’t for Forge hanging around, and of course the Vision I highly suspect that people would have a hard time telling that we weren’t named the Aryan Avengers.”

Wendell started to comment, but then looked into the blonde hair blue eyed Ms. Marvel’s eyes. She was serious. He too fit the profile. As did Captain America, and Hank Pym, Four out of six wasn’t a very good stats to argue a case against something being true. “You think that we should set out to recruit a more diverse membership?”

“I think that it might be a start. We’ve got to get things shaken up somehow, otherwise…” she didn’t have time to finish her sentence before the first of the meteors streaked by in the sky. She watched the first train vanish before it struck her. The rest of the shower wasn’t where it was supposed to be. Quasar seemed to realize it at the same time, his usual awareness having been tuned down so that he could enjoy the spectacle the night had promised to offer. This sort of spectacle though was one of a different sort.

Ms. Marvel was barely in the air before reports started coming in from the Vision about meteorite strikes all over the planet. They hadn’t just been ripped off of their usual course it seemed, they were being hurled against the planet by some unseen force. Quasar was halfway around the globe before she could even start seeing the end of his energy trail. The first priority was to stop the meteorites from hitting populated areas. The rest of the Avengers were already preparing to launch a ship to investigate the cause itself. All they had to do was to keep things from getting worse.

AMID THE CHAOS

So far things were working out exactly as he had planned. It was almost more than he could believe that he was so close to his goal after living on hate for so long. Hate, and the desire to do something with it. He had managed to outwit those who wanted to keep him confined, and then had found a way to get to where he needed to go - Earth. That was where they were after all. He needed to go to their planet to order to humiliate them, in order to kill them once and for all. The meteor shower had been the proper cover, who would be looking for one more object in a swarm of them. Flinging them toward the Earth had been a last minute idea, but one if his ally was to believed, had caused the Avengers to flee the safety of their home and venture forth as “heroes” so often do, to confront the unknown.

His cloaked pod ship landed on the grounds of the Avenger mansion softly. He expected to hear the tell-tale sounds of a set-up, the alarms going off that would tell him that his communications had been for play and nothing more. But none of them came. He was grateful for the time he had been able to spend in space, over the months he had slowly changed the atmosphere inside the vessel to one that matched that of his target planet. Had he just stepped off from home, it would have killed him. But given time he had been able to adapt. That was what he did after all - adapt from the old into something better.

He had to be fast, there were certainly other personnel to worry about detecting him than the super-powered kind. If one of them were to sound an alarm before he was ready to let them know of his presence… things seemed to be well in hand though. The personnel he encountered had been taken out by some sort of “knock out” gas, most likely part of the standard security procedures. The mansion turned against them, they were certainly nothing to worry about. Sooner or later, the Avengers would run out of meteorites, or manage to shut down the machine he had placed to cause the distraction in the first place. They would gather together and find a way to win, then they would come home, into his awaiting arms.

His tail swished with excitement.

The Avengers would die, at long last, at the claws of the Star Stalker.

NEXT: The Avengers vs. The New and Improved Star Stalker!! But there’s a traitor in their midst, again. Who is it and what will the Stalker leave any of them alive to find out???