AVENGERS

#445 - June, Year 4 - MV1

"Big Apple Addiction, Part One"

written by Mark Bousquet

"I have found the explosive device, Ms. Marvel," Vision announced, holding up a small vest, loaded with explosives. The Avenger stood in a quarantined subway terminal, just off the platform. Mere hours ago a terrorist attack on the Avengers had been thwarted when the mercenary Deadpool, on a freelance assignment from SHIELD and new Avengers government liaison Dum Dum Dugan, shot two would-be suicide bombers at the Mansion's front gates. Captain American, unaware of the motives of Deadpool's attack, had taken the merc down before Deadpool could neutralize the third terrorist. "I will disable the bomb now."

"Excellent work, Vision," Ms. Marvel said from the street above, as a crowd of people, pressed against one another behind police ropes, waited impatiently. "Any sign of the two vials containing the biochemicals?"

"No. They are still unaccounted for."

Ms. Marvel looked at the crowd of people gathering behind the yellow police tape, wondering if any of them realized the danger the city of New York was now in.

Around the Avengers large oval table, a majestic 'A' emblazoned in its center, stood team Chairman Captain America, Ms. Marvel, Vision, Yellowjacket, Namor, and Dani Moonstar. Thor had been at the Mansion, but was called back to Asgard on duty, much to the displeasure of Captain America. Steve Rogers wanted this team righted at once and Thor's here-one-minute / gone-the-next reserve status would be a problem.

The question that he didn't want to answer was whether it would be better to keep Thor on as a reserve, or ask him to leave so the team didn't start leaning on someone who may or may not be around.

Tensions ran high in the remaining members as they listened to the briefing from the government's team liaison, Dum Dum Dugan, one-time second-in-command of SHIELD. He'd asked them to sit down several times, but other than Dani and Namor, the team was too agitated to remain seated.

The Avengers anger had descended on Dugan several times over the past two hours, but they were professionals and knew that whatever complaints they had would best wait until a better time. The news Vision and Ms. Marvel brought back with them - that the missing bomb-jacket had been found and neutralized - helped ease the tension, but the missing vials did not.

"It's called Überlegen," Dugan explained. "Intel believes it to be part of a program called Reich-schöpfer, but we're unsure exactly what this program is, or who's behind it. Though from the names, it looks German, and most likely neo-Nazi."

"Why?" Dani asked, unafraid to speak during this, her first formal operation with the Avengers.

Cap answered the question for Dugan. "'Überlegen' is German for 'superior,' and 'Reich- schöpfer translates roughly to 'empire maker'." Cap turned back to Dugan, "Any connections to the usual suspects: Zemo, Red Skull, Hate Monger, Arnim Zola?"

Dugan shook his head. "None that we have been able to establish, but so far most of our intelligence comes from our operatives in the Middle East, which isn't exactly a hotbed for neo-Nazis. It wasn't until late last week they we even had a name for the drug."

"Can you be certain of the intelligence, Dugan?" Yellowjacket asked from his chair.

Dugan let out a deep sigh. "Reasonably certain. One of our field agents in eastern Europe, an agent named Theodore Daniels, was attending an exclusive party in Symkaria. Silver Sable spotted him, of course," Dugan groused, "but not before he'd been offered a drink from one of Sable's guests. The drink was called Überlegen. He told the woman he didn't need a drink at the moment - he was already drinking a glass of champagne - when the woman removed a vial from her purse and emptied it into his glass. 'Now it's Überlegen,' she told him. That's when Sable escorted him off the premises." Dugan shook his head. "Of course, Sable being Sable, she ordered the agent to turn the drink over to her before he left. 'Valuable glass,' she told him."

Namor asked, "So we do not know the effects of the drug?"

Dugan rubbed his pudgy hands across his equally rounded face. "Oh, we know all right. This agent told Sable she could keep the glass but the drink was his. He downed it in one gulp. When SHIELD picked him up, the drug had taken hold. He was raving at everyone that they had taken too long to find him, that his mission failed because of them. Started demanding promotions and ordering everyone around. The best our scientists can figure is that the drug heightens one's sense of self-importance, makes them feel superior to everyone around them."

"Überlegen," Dani repeated.

"Exactly," Dugan replied.

"Long range side-effect?" Ms. Marvel asked.

"Devastating," Dugan said. Walking over to the room's wall-length computer console, Dugan inserted a DVD disc and cued up the image. "This is taken from the agent's cell as the effects of the drug were waning."

The Avengers watched as the agent slammed his fists onto the padded walls of his cell, his eyes bloodshot and his breathing haggard. "More! I must have more!"

Dugan hit a button. "Thirty minutes later."

The agent was now on his knees, crying and pleading to anyone who would listen. "Please dear God bring it back! I am worthless, worthless! When I was ten I killed a frog! Oh please someone kill me! Why am I such a miserable person? I steal cable! I stole five small cameras from SHIELD storage and placed them in my neighbors house where I watch them take showers!"

"Thirty minutes after that," Dugan said, and the feed jumped forward again. This time the agent was sitting in a corner of the cell, bags under his eyes from the stress he was under, rocking slowly back and forth. "Another thirty." The agent was sleeping. "When he awoke he was tired, hungry, but otherwise okay," Dugan explained. "We kept him under observation for two days, during which time he regained his status as an apparently normalized and functioning agent. His debriefing was solid and professionally handled."

"So he was high?" Dani asked. "That's it?"

"Not quite, Moonstar," Dugan said gruffly. "The next day we brought him to the med-lab for blood work. He snapped, attacked the doctors, killed six guards, and ended up escaping back into the field. Twelve hours later he broke back into Silver Sable's Symkarian castle and killed three members of the kitchen staff. The one survivor said the man kept repeating 'Überlegen' over and over again. By the time Sable returned home, Agent Daniels had left." Dugan reached into his folder and tossed a picture of a middle-aged woman onto the table. "Sylvia DuValle. Wife of one of France's wealthiest businessmen. Tangentially a member of a royal British house. She was at the party in Symkaria, on vacation, as it were." Dugan tossed a second picture on top of it. In this one, Ms. DuValle's face was bruised and bloodied. "Agent Daniels tracked her down at her hotel, killed all four members of the security force hired to protect her, then beat her into unconsciousness. His current whereabouts unknown."

Catching everyone by surprise, Namor erupted. "Are we actually supposed to get involved in this, Dugan? Certainly this is a tragedy, but this is not Avengers business. It’s more suited for black-ops or SHIELD. We shouldn't waste our time with this."

"Stopping drugs is beneath the Avengers?" Dani asked, challenging Namor.

Namor turned, glowering at the newest Avenger. "Do you know what this is about, girl?"

"You call me girl one more time and you'll wake up with clipped wings," Dani replied, rising to her feet.

Namor wasn't about to back down. "What kills me about you surface mutants is how quickly you throw around the word 'war.' Xavier and Magneto's factions discuss the oncoming 'war' between mutants and humans with such frequency that the word has barely more significance than it does when used during a football game. Make this clear in your mind, girl," he emphasized the last word purposely, "you are not at war with the humans. You are in a political struggle that, on occasion, is given to erupting in violence. And most of it is mutant against mutant."

"Is there a point to this, old man?" Dani asked, refusing to back down.

"Only this, child," Namor fumed, the muscles in his arms tightening. "There are three men in this room who have lived combat. Not against a singular villain, nor a team, but against the armies of nations. During World War II I fought against the Nazis. As did Captain America. As did Dugan. In case you missed the Avengers appearance before the Committee on Super Human Affairs, let me educate you on the opinions of Senator Kastings. He wants this team under the control of the United States government, and he is not alone in that sentiment. You saw the signs those protestors held this morning, calling the Avengers un-American."

"Did you skip a beat or does this have something to do with your war stories?"

Namor was fully enraged now, slamming the table with his fist. "In World War II, heroes fought under the flag of the United States government. Do not forget that this man," he said, pointing to Cap, "was created under a 'super soldier' program. There are those in the government who consider him to this day to be property of the federal government. There are those in governments around the world who strive to this day to build super soldiers. Governments would love to have us under their control! And that is what this, all of this, is about! Control! Dugan isn't a lawyer, he's a soldier. Second in command of SHIELD. What has he done since he arrived? He's given us a new headquarters, part of which was funded by the federal government, and now he's got us on the verge of undertaking a mission that is, by all rights, a SHIELD mission."

"Namor, please, take it down a notch." Captain America tried to calm the Sub-Mariner, but Namor wasn't finished.

"Have you noticed where Dugan is sending us? What locales has he mentioned? Symkaria, France, and the Middle East." Namor spun on Dugan, but found an irate Captain standing in his path. "I'd be willing to bet-"

"Stand down, Namor," Cap said forcefully enough that even an enraged Namor received the message. "I don’t like this anymore than you do, but somewhere out there in this city is a young woman with a vial of this Überlegen substance, a drug that encourages a superiority complex and causes a user to erupt in violence. Somewhere out beyond this nation's borders, in lands that we fought to free so long ago, is an organization funding this drug. Possibly neo-Nazis. You know what that means. Zemo. The Skull. Sruker. Zola. We're likely to find our old enemies in new clothes, pushing a drug that causes people to act just like them. No, this isn't our typical mission, but it's the one we have before us."

Captain America turned to Dugan. "We need a complete list of everyone at that party, their current whereabouts, and SHIELD's full dossiers on all of them." He turned to Vision, "Get Deadpool out of lock-up. He can identify the third bomber. I don’t approve of the Avengers working with mercenaries," he said forcefully, turning his head back to Dugan, "but he's involved and he knows more than we do so he's going to help."

Dugan shook his head, "Cap, he's probably gone by now. He's got a short-range teleportation device that-"

Cap reached down for an object beside his chair and tossed a belt with a broken round buckle onto the table. "You mean this teleportation device, Dugan? He hasn’t gone anywhere." Steve turned back to the group. "Henry, take the four vials of Überlegen we pulled off the dead terrorists and start analyzing them. Carol, start analyzing the complete version of the Agent Daniels tape. Vision, once you've gotten Deadpool to talk, plug into the security and intelligence systems and try to find out the bomber's identity, then attempt to locate her. Scan all bank, airport, federal building, and public transport security cams. Namor, take Moonstar up to the hangar. Give her a full rundown of the Quinjet's operational systems. We're most likely going to be using them before this mission is completed and I don't want anyone inside one of them that can't fly it."

Cap looked around, his face hard and serious. "Any questions? No? Good. Get moving. Dugan and I need to have a long talk about the Avengers relationship with the federal government. I want everyone back here for a briefing in 90 minutes, and then ready to move to the field in two hours. I'm sick of sitting around talking. "

"How are we feeling, Agent Daniels?"

The escaped SHIELD agent tried to focus his eyes in the darkened room to make out his captor, but no form solidified before him. "I … I'm better … but why, why do I hate … Asians … so much …"

"Of course you are getting better," the man - Agent Daniels could tell it was a man and … German, perhaps? - said to him. "This is a hospital, is it not?"

"I … I need …"

"Überlegen," the man replied. "Yes, I know. The nurse will administer to you the daily dosage. It is less than yesterday's dosage, of course. We want you to get better."

Agent Daniels watched on expectantly as a nurse approached him with a needle. The needle plunged into a vein in his arm, and Agent Daniels' eyes rolled back in his head as a sharp clarity descended upon him. The nurse exited the room and Daniels' captor waited for the drug to take effect. He watched Daniels' eyes flutter rapidly, then relax, then focus. "How are you feeling?"

"Never better," Daniels replied. "You. You're like me."

"How so?"

"Above the mongrel cultures of the world," Daniels said arrogantly.

"I am," the man in darkness agreed. "We are a cut above. Now tell me, Agent Daniels, what do you think of Asians? Are they like us?"

Daniels' nostrils flared. "Never."

"Why do you dislike them so?"

"My father was an auto worker. Lost his job when the auto company closed it's doors to start producing cars in Japan."

"So do you hate all Asians? Or just the Japanese?"

"What's the difference between one dog and another?" Daniels replied, his hands clenching and unclenching in anger. "Asians, blacks, Jews, mutants, the poor. I think I may hate the poor more than anyone."

"Even the white poor?"

"Them especially," Daniels raged.

The man in the shadows laughed. "You are coming along quite nicely, Agent Daniels."

"I want to be free!" Agent Daniels yelled, straining against his bonds. "I want to strike against the mongrels!"

"Soon, Agent Daniels," the hidden man replied. "Soon."

Jarvis exited the kitchen, a large tray in his hands, filled with food. The long-time butler to the Stark family had seen many nights like this over the years, nights filled with tension, with frayed nerves, with heated arguments. At the moment, they were all buried deep in the activities Captain America had given them.

They would all, of course, forget to eat.

Moving first to the lower levels, Jarvis entered the laboratory of Henry Pym, where he found the scientist hard at work analyzing the awful drug the team had recovered off the bodies of the two would-be suicide bombers. 'What is this world coming to,' Jarvis thought to himself, 'when ordinary citizens seek to wreak the same havoc on the world as the would-be world conquerors?'

"Master Pym, I have brought you a small bite to eat," Jarvis announced, setting the tray down on a workbench.

"Thanks, Jarvis," Henry replied, his head buried in a microscope, "but I don't really have the time."

"It is only a ham-and-cheese sandwich, Master Pym. Extra mayonnaise. Wheat Bread. There is milk, coffee, or water to drink."

Pym pulled his head away from his work. "Well, if you insist," he smiled. "Can't save the world on an empty stomach, can we?"

"No, sir, you cannot," Jarvis replied. "Your choice of beverage?"

"Coffee, please," Pym said, biting deeply into his sandwich.

Jarvis poured the drink, then picked up his tray. "Will there be anything else?"

"No thanks," Henry answered, his mouth full of food. "Thanks, Jarvis."

Down the hall and to the right, Jarvis entered the Mansion's main Communications Room, where the Vision, Ms. Marvel, and the mercenary, Deadpool were busy trying to identify and locate the third bomber.

"Thanks, Jarvis," Carol said, eagerly digging into her pasta salad.

"Mister Deadpool, sir," Jarvis addressed the merc, "I was unaware of what food you would prefer to eat so I-"

"Is that a lobster roll?" Deadpool asked enthusiastically, grabbing one off the tray and taking a bit bite. "Iff dewiffish!" he enthused through a full mouth, giving the butler a thumbs up.

Jarvis looked at the merc angrily. "That was for Master Namor, good sir," he scolded.

"If wuzh?" Deadpool asked, swallowing his large bite in one gulp. "Should I put it back?"

Ms. Marvel couldn't help but smile. "Thank you again, Jarvis," she said, escorting him out of the room.

"How goes the search, madam? Has … Deadpool been of any assistance?"

"Plenty," Carol answered, the gravity of the situation returning to her. "He may have a shady background and an even bigger mouth, but beneath the gruff exterior is a man trying to change for the better. He was a great help to me in rescuing Tigra." *

"Of course, madam," Jarvis nodded. "If there are any who can help a man turn his life around for the better, it is the Avengers."

"If you see Steve, you can tell him we've identified the third bomber."

"Of course, madam," Jarvis answered, then moved on down the hall and into a staff elevator. "Hangar," he said plainly, and the elevator moved silently up through the Mansion to the Hangar level, where Namor and Dani Moonstar were busy working on a Quinjet.

"Two lobster rolls, Jarvis?" Namor asked. "Are you placing the Prince of Atlantis on a diet?"

"My apologies, Master Namor," Jarvis bowed slightly, feeling the tension between the two heroes. "I hope you can forgive an old man his failures. My tray accidentally hit a bench in the laboratory-"

"It's fine, Jarvis, just fine," Namor waved the apology away. "Have you been formally introduced to Dani Moonstar, yet?"

"We met only briefly last night when I prepared her sleeping quarters," the butler said. "I hope they were adequate."

"They were," Dani smiled politely, then turned her attention to the tray of food. "I see you remembered my favorite munch-food," she said, picking up a grilled roast beef sandwich, smothered in seasoned barbecue sauce. "I thought you were just asking me last night what kind of food I liked to be polite."

"I hope it is adequate, madam." He paused, letting her take a bite into the sandwich. From her instant reaction he could tell she approved. "Furthermore, let me welcome you to the Avengers, and Avengers Mansion. I know this is not the best day to be inducted, and I can assure you that when there is a moment a more formal welcoming will be given by Captain America. If there is anything you require, please do not hesitate to ask. Food is ordered twice a week, although an order can always be placed if there is a pressing need. Master Namor," he nodded in the Sub-Mariner's direction, "was most displeased by the high amount of beef and chicken products we had in the storage, and an order for fresh fish was placed immediately. If you have any possessions that need to be shipped to the Mansion, simply present to me the particulars and I will make it happen. In regards to laundry-"

"I believe she understands, Jarvis," Namor announced as he finished his lobster roll. He couldn't help the slight smile that made its way to his face. "Thank you, old friend."

"Of course," Jarvis nodded, and began to move away.

"And Jarvis," Namor called, "you can tell whoever took my third lobster roll that I will be checking breaths at the upcoming meeting."

"Or course, Master Namor," Jarvis replied.

An image of the third bomber - a young, white female - was on the wall screen before them as the Avengers, plus Dugan and Deadpool, sat around their main table.

"Her name is Katarina Strucker," Ms. Marvel informed them. "And yes, it's that Strucker family. German birth records indicate she is the younger sister of Andrea and Andreas Strucker, also known together as Fenris. No criminal record. She's enrolled as a sophomore at Yale-"

"Is she enrolled under a pseudonym?" Henry asked. "Yale would accept a Strucker?"

"They accept Bushes, don't they?" Dani asked.

"Silence," Cap ordered. "And leave your politics at the door, Moonstar."

Ms. Marvel continued. "Straight A student. Member of the Young Democrats club. Reprimanded earlier this semester during a rally against sweatshops. Apparenly Ms. Struker walked across campus naked."

"My kinda girl," Deadpool mumbled, but not low enough to avoid a stare from Captain America. "Um, except for that whole 'blow up Avengers Mansion' thing, I mean."

"There's nothing to indicate terror on this level," Ms. Marvel finished.

"Could her brother and sister be putting her up to this?" Henry Pym asked. "Could Fenris be behind this entire operation?"

"Highly unlikely," Vision answered for Carol. "Andrea Strucker is dead. Killed during a riot at the Vault. Her brother Andreas was transferred to a lower security prison when he no longer possessed any superhuman powers, and has become embroiled in the Enlightenment Foundation."

"What’s that?" Henry asked.

Vision answered, "A religious front for the Olympian god Pluto. The Fantastic Four recently uncovered Pluto's plot and put an end to the EF's central body. We have been unable to determine how this has affected Andreas, but we do know that he is still in custody. I have placed a call to- excuse me."

Rising, Vision walked across the room and pressed several buttons on the computer wall console, and the image of Katarina Strucker was replaced by the cable channel SCN.

"-looking live at the Governor's Ball and what can only be described as unthinkable. We don't know what sparked this apparent riot but - my God, is that the Mayor?"

As the SCN reporter continued to relay information, the Avengers watched as some of the wealthiest and most prominent people in the state brawled with the waiters, waitresses, and bartenders of the Grand Hotel. The ballroom was already thoroughly trashed.

"There," Vision pointed to the one person in the entire room who wasn't involved in the fight and was, instead, watching and smiling as the chaos built. "Katarina Strucker."

AVENGERS ASSEMBLE!

Mark Bousquet

25 May 2003

Northern Bear Productions