Justice Like Lightning

By Michael Weyer

A one-shot here that will be building up to bigger fun down the line…

Earth-19999

Los Angeles

Unlike New York City, Los Angeles had managed to avoid some of the rather bizarre events of the last several years. Despite rumors of such things as mass earthquakes caused by some sinister cult, the city was free of the super-powered battles that seemed to occur regularly in New York. That also meant they were unprepared for when some wild events occurred. Which was why the forces of Los Angeles were rocked by the current events happening.

Screams echoed as people ran about in terror, trying to avoid the huge creatures abounding. Each appeared to be a misshapen form of various colors. One was nothing but pure flame that burned its way through a police car. Another was white, another silver and several had various other colors. Each was warping around, their bodies easily stretching and folding and standing up to any bullets fired at them. Onlookers were trying to escape while news cameras were catching the horror.

"Run, humans!" their leader, a thick black form with a solid face called out as it tossed a bus into the air. "This city shall be the first to fall to us! Welcome to the age of the Elements of Doom!"

A pair of police officers ducked the bus with one yelling into the radio. "I don't care how long it'll take for them to get here, we need the Avengers now!"

"It ain't gonna be enough," his partner gasped as he saw one of the Elements transform into a tentacled monster to attack with arms of copper. "Not now!"

"Don't worry officer," a deep voice echoed. "Help is already here."

The two men turned to see a costumed figure standing before them. He wore a dark blue bodysuit that fit over his body with a red sash around his waist and red boots and gloves. His cape had shoulder pads that resembled the American flag along with a long cape. His face was covered by a solid mask that seemed to be designed like a large "V". His right hand held a long and sharp sword.

"Who the hell?"

"Call me Citizen V," the man stated as he stepped forward, assessing the ten creatures around. "Hmm…Elements of Doom. I suppose we should be fortunate it's not all 109 of them."

A cop gaped. "Are you nuts? You can't face them alone?"

"Then it's a good thing I'm not alone." The man lifted up his sword. "Thunderbolts….attack!"

A shimmer flew through the air and behind the man a large wing-shaped platform appeared out of nowhere. Upon it was a set of costumed figures that immediately sprang into action. In the lead was a woman with long blonde hair clad in a complex suit of orange-golden armor that fit across her shapely body well. Her hands glowed with energy that she unleashed upon the fire element. It cried out as it fell back under her assault.

"Meteorite, stay on him," Citizen V snapped. "MACH-1, Songbird, to the other three there!" Two figures leapt off from the platform. One was a man in a mostly blue suit with white armor atop most of its body. From his back, a pair of wings extended as the large helmet with red eye-slits made him look like a fighter jet on a human body. Next to him was an attractive young woman with long white hair streaked with red and pink. Her costume was dark blue with a white pattern matching a bird on her chest and leggings. A large golden collar and shoulder brace were attached to her and as she leaped, what sounded like an odd trill came from her throat. The carapace shone and around her, a pair of pink wings emerged from nowhere to carry her.

Next to Citizen V, a handsome man with a goatee was hopping off the platform. He wore a red and black suit with a bandanna around his head, a complex metal pack on his back. He furrowed his brow and the pack seemed to grow around him, crafting a large cannon. One eye was covered by a red eyepiece that was scanning the Elements. "Yep, each one is just like a real element!" He called out. "Let's see, Gold may look pretty fancy but it's actually a soft metal at its base sooo…."

He adjusted his controls and the cannon emitted a beam of energy. It struck the gold-plated creature dead on, causing it to scream. It shook about before melting slowly into a pile of golden liquid. The man laughed as he headed forward. "Yep, Techno does it again. Now, as for Iron…"

He was cut off by a cloud suddenly covering his body. He gasped out, choking at the thick poison about his head. The cloud seemed to form a female face that was grinning wickedly. "Chlorine can be odorless until it chooses otherwise," it hissed. "And deadly to you…"

Meteorite cursed as she sent out a blast, just striking the head of the creature. It hissed as it flew back, letting Techno fall gasping to the ground. He was still on his knees when a huge block form began charging at him. "Cobalt will crush him like an ant!" it bellowed. Behind him was another large white figure that appeared to be even heavier. "Unless Vanadium beats you to it!"

A shadow fell upon them and they both looked up in wonder. Above them was a huge black-skinned man with an afro haircut. He wore a white and navy blue costume with his forearms bare and a blue mask covering his face. He smirked at the two stunned Elements. "Cobalt and Vanadium. Normally, two heavy Elements. But to a guy called Goliath…." He reached to pick both of them in his huge fists and then slammed them together. They both yelled in pain before the figure calling himself Goliath tossed each in a high arc to splash into the ocean.

The reddish form of Copper was growling as it tried to charge at Citizen V, who easily cut one of its arms with his sword. "You have no powers, human. You're nothing but a clown with a sword! You think you can defeat me?"

"Perhaps," V stated. "Or merely distract you."

Copper was frowning before it felt something flow into him. An arm cut through its body and began slicing outward, causing it to cry in pain. A female form stepped into Copper, her white armor notable as was the hood and mask covering her completely. Copper gasped out more as the figure continued to cut away, her body flowing in and out of solidifying. With one final cry, Copper was literally torn inside out.

Citizen V nodded to the woman. "My thanks, Ghost." She nodded back.

Songbird was twisting herself in the air to avoid the fire blasts of Prosperous. MACH-1 was dodging the attacks of the Element called Bromine, its orange body unleashing long tentacles of corrosive liquid. One managed to strike the edge of one of MACH-1's wings, sending him spinning around. On instinct, Songbird let out a cry and a solid cushion of pink energy flowed to catch MACH-1. "You ok?" she managed to call out over her trilling.

The armored man nodded. "Yep, I…watch it!" He lifted his gauntlets to fire a barrage of small missiles. Songbird dodged them as the missiles hit the form of Mercury who had just been about to attack the woman. The creature yelled in agony as it fell back. Songbird looked to MACH-1 and let out a slow nod of thanks.

Citizen V moved to where Techno was getting back to his feet. "We need more of a plan to deal with them for good," he intoned. Above him, Meteorite was firing off more of her energy blasts from her hands to slam down Prosperous as the other Elements were slowly regrouping. One blast struck a building to send a pile of debris down at onlookers below. Songbird saw it and unleashed another sonic cry to create a shield to protect the civilians.

"Checking…" Techno looked around with his scanner. "Okay, can't see it but I'm getting traces that they do have helium around here somewhere about that pack.

"Helium," Goliath muttered. "With Prosperous and Chlorine, and touches of Iron and Nickel…."

Techno grinned. "Oh yeah, that'll work all right." He began fiddling with his pack, the metallic devices creating a set of cannons aimed at the Elements. "Songbird, get ready to throw a bubble when I tell you! Meteorite, fire at my back."

The blonde woman grinned. "Oh, I've been waiting to be able to shoot at you." She unleashed a blast that struck a special battery that had formed from nowhere. Shivering, Techno managed to adapt its power into the glowing cannons. The Elements had gathered together, preparing for a strike, all making intimidating howls. "Steady…steady….now!" Techno unleashed a huge blast from his cannons, the energy pouring out into the Elements. It struck Helium first, causing a huge eruption of flame. It connected to Prosperous, creating a chain reaction of energy flowing from one Element to another. They screamed in pain as Songbird let out another cry, creating a huge bubble of pink energy. It covered the group just as a massive explosion erupted. Songbird gasped as MACH-1 flew behind her, grabbing her for support. With his help, she was able to handle herself as she kept the bubble going until the explosion subsided.

The two lowered themselves to the ground as the others gathered, taking in the burned remains of the Elements. Behind them, Goliath had shrunk down into a normal-sized young man. "So what were those things?" Songbird asked. "Aliens? Some twisted experiment?"

"Right now, there's barely ash," Techno mused. "We should get someone to study that."

"We can handle that later," Citizen V stated. "Right now, we have another issue at hand." He nodded at the swarm of people coming toward them. The reporters were first with cameras flashing as numerous questions were thrown that them. "Ladies and gentlemen," he called out, raising his hands. "Please, please. We will address you one at a time."

"Who are you?" was the obvious question thrown out. "What was that name, the Thunderbolts?"

"Indeed," the man stated. "To begin, I am Citizen V." He held up a finger as if to correct someone before they spoke. "That's V as in 'Victory', not the Roman numeral. I would not classify us as 'heroes'. Heroes are the police and firefighters who risk their lives every day without special powers or equipment. Consider us more like volunteers who are simply doing our part to aid the planet. The Avengers do their best, of course, but there's always room for more people to help in this world."

He waved to the others. "First, allow me to introduce the rest of my team." He nodded to the blonde-haired woman in armor. "Meteorite, my second in command and a powerhouse in a fight who burns as bright as her namesake…."

Central California Women's Correctional Facility

Four months earlier

As the door opened, the blonde-haired woman looked up. Her gaze was cool and professional and even the drab prison clothing couldn't conceal her remarkable beauty. But it was a beauty marked by a sense of danger and a woman used to always being in control. She merely raised an eyebrow as Ross sauntered in, reading the file in his hands.

"Karla Sofen," he began. "Usually, when people use the term 'criminal psychiatrist,' they don't mean it in both senses of the term." He sat across from her, settling into his chair inside the small interrogation room. "Top of her class at Harvard, a formerly successful practice until the lawsuits for unprofessional behavior came rolling in."

"You can't please everyone," Sofen said in a cool voice laced with a dark humor.

Ross was flipping through the file. "A woman who suffered a complete breakdown because you made her believe her husband was having an affair just to keep her as a client. The accusations of using your wiles to get financial information from them. Oh and even selling some personal information from a few for financial gain. You may have set a record for how fast your license got yanked." He looked over her. "You're a selfish woman who sees others as pawns to use and no problem with manipulation."

Sofen fixed him with a gaze. "My father was a butler who gave his entire life to a producer who treated him like dirt. When he died, his boss kicked us out before the funeral. My mother worked three jobs to put me into college and died before my graduation. I promised right then I'd never put someone's needs before my own."

Ross raised an eyebrow. "I shouldn't be surprised a shrink is able to pull out a Freudian excuse." He looked at the glow shimmering slightly under her shirt. "But somehow, you got hold of that alien artifact. A 'gift' from your last client as I understand it. He discovered it at a dig site, perhaps extraterrestrial in nature. Whatever it is, its power drove him mad and to your care where you managed to con him out of it."

Sofen reached to touch her chest, the tight metal gloves around her hands clinking. Those, combined with the collar around her neck, were suppressing the power of the gem. "Is there where you threaten to cut this out of me? Because that's the only way I'm giving it up now."

Ross nodded. "Because you like the power, Sofen. That's all you've ever liked. You're already smart, now you've got the power to really back it up. Too bad you couldn't control it at first so got caught when the power overload knocked you out." He crossed his fingers. "I've got an offer, Sofen. A way to do some good in this world and cut down on your sentence. And a way you can use that power for someone other than yourself."

Sofen mused it over as she studied Ross. "There's more to it than that, isn't there?"

"This project will have some…unique individuals. People who aren't quite team players, folks who need to be taught on…public perceptions. Your background indicates you can help there." His eyes narrowed. "Make no mistake, Sofen. You screw this up, and that gem will come out. What happens to you…"

Sofen tapped her fingers for a moment before nodding. "Very well, I'm in. But make sure I can get a good outfit and salary out of it first."

Ross smirked. "You enjoy playing with people's heads, Sofen. I think you'll enjoy the great personality study I'm going to be giving you."

"This is Ghost, who can live up to her name as a specter for justice. With her is Goliath, the team's powerhouse…"

Abandoned SHIELD Facility

Northern Virginia

Three Months Ago

Ava Starr collapsed from the chamber, holding her sides. She wore a simple white leotard instead of her usual suit which clashed with her dark skin and hair, her attractive features racked in pain. Bill Foster was at her side in a moment, helping her to her feet, the elderly scientist always prepared to help his charge. Nearby, a handsome young man was going over the readouts on a nearby computer and letting out a sigh. His afro haircut offset his intelligent face as he studied the data in front of him. "We're seeing changes, Uncle Bill but not quite what we hoped for."

"Damn," Bill muttered. "I really thought we had it that time." He helped Ava sip from a glass of water. She had been improving since the Dusting but was obviously still feeling the effects of her past accident.

"We're making much better strides," Tom Foster stated. He adjusted his glasses as he spoke. "A few weeks ago, she was still having trouble maintain her corporeal form but can do it easily."

"But it's still painful," Ava sighed as she slowly got to her feet. "I may have much better control now but we don't know how long the reversal shall last."

"The fact you stayed rather than be Dusted does indicate a shift," Foster mused, stroking his chin. "Damn, if I just had a better lab..."

Tom sighed deeply. "Uncle Bill, I know you don't want to hear this…"

"You're right, I don't."

"God, you and Hank are both so damn stubborn but he can be a help…"

"No chance in Hell I work with him again."

"Fine, Tony Stark. Or even Reed Richards." Tom leaned on the console. "Look, Uncle Bill, you've been my mentor and my teacher. It's thanks to you I got as far as I did…"

"The fact you're smarter than me in understanding the growing particles and quantum realm is a key reason," Bill interrupted.

Tom waved it off. "But we need more help for this. I'm good but we might as well be working out of your basement with our lack of resources. She needs state of the art equipment to try and crack her problems. If you really care about Ava, find a way to swallow the ego and help her!"

"The kid's a lot smarter than you there, Foster." The trio started at the deep voice as Ross sauntered into the room. "At least he doesn't let his ego get in the way."

Foster blinked. "Secretary Ross? What are you doing here? How did you find us?"

"I keep track of former SHIELD bases just in case someone shady tries to use them," Ross stated. "Fury probably knows too but lets you use it because he knows you're trying to help her." He waved to Ava. "Which is something I can do much better."

Foster crossed his arms. "Ross, I have three Ph.D.'s, numerous awards and a master of theories you couldn't even pronounce. Which means I know there's no way you're offering this out of the kindness of your heart. What's the catch?"

Ross nodded. "Quid pro quo, Foster. You have Ghost here help me out and I make sure she gets the best treatment she can."

Ava scowled. "I was already used as a killer. I won't do it again, even if it means my life."

"It won't be like that," Ross quickly assured here. "There's no killing involved. In fact…this can make you a public hero."

The trio seemed unsure as Ross sighed. "It's this or I report you all. Sorry to get brutal but I am on a clock."

Foster was quiet for a long moment. "One condition."

Ross raised an eyebrow. "You believe we're negotiating here, Doctor?"

"She does this, it won't be alone. I help and so does Tom."

Ross was quiet as he looked to the young man. "Hmmm….Tom Foster….Former decathlete before you went into sciences." He cocked his head. "Tell me, young man…Just how involved are you with your uncle's use of Pym Particles?"

"Techno, our resident technical master who can create almost any device at a moment's notice. And MACH-1, whose flight suit makes him a one-man fighter jet."

Atlanta, Georgia

Three Months Ago

Abe Jenkins howled as the flame-retardant foam engulfed him, dousing the flames across his suit. He tore off the makeshift jetpack to let it flop to the ground like a pack of half-melted metal. He tore his helmet off to reveal his handsome face which glared hard at the man before him. "That was your best, Ebersol?"

Paul Norbert Ebersol just raised an eyebrow. His thinning hair couldn't take away from his handsome features and a wicked gleam in his eyes as if always enjoying a joke on the world. He was clad in a dark red suit that was protected against any of the wild experiments around him as he brushed at his coat. "I warned you a bit of trial and error, Jenkins."

"Nearly blowing me up is not trial and error, Fixer!" Jenkins snapped. "I gave you a good design on the jetpack…"

"Which wasn't good enough," Ebersol snapped. "I made a few…improvements."

Jenkins glared at him as he pointed at the hunk of burnt metal. "Clearly."

Ebersol threw up his hands. "What do you want, Jenkins? Listen, just because we were cellmates does not make us friends. I'm doing my best to help you out since we escaped in the whole Dusting but it's not as if we're rolling in major equipment." He waved around the half-empty warehouse. "You wanna make a splash with some fancy suit for crimes, ok, fine. I like a challenge but even I have my limits."

"I'm just trying to make something of myself," Jenkins snapped. "I was ignored in the army, ignored in school, I made a few mistakes and shortcuts but I still want to be more than some minor crook."

"Maybe I can help there." The two men spun around to see Ross slowly stepping into the room. "Abner Jenkins," he began in a calm voice. "Expert mechanic in high school, Army corps of engineers, could have worked out, only suffering serious financial issues after parents got divorced. A term in prison for armed robbery where you met Paul Norbert Ebersol. Brilliant designer, child wunderkind until it came out he'd made his money in the tech world selling to Hydra and then trying to cover his tracks with embezzlement. Both were in Atlanta penitentiary when the Dusting happened and escaped."

Abe was moving to grab a wrench while Ebersol held up a hand. "Hold up, Abe. A guy like Ross doesn't show up in person alone." He narrowed his beady eyes. " He also doesn't come to two guys like us unless he needs something."

Ross nodded. "It's more like what you need. Both of you. A second chance to do something better with your lives." He motioned to the burned-out jetpack. "I have possession of the original flight harness developed for the Falcon as well as a secondary suit used by a criminal. I'm pretty sure you two can find ways to make it even better. And Ebersol, I've got a lot of toys I'll think you'll enjoy playing with."

The two were wary but obviously interested. "And…what's the price?" Ebersol asked.

Ross smiled thinly. "Not much. Just the two of you becoming heroes."

Abe rubbed his chin. "You have a plan? Something big? Something that will wipe the smiles off people's faces?"

"And something that's a challenge?" Ebersol added.

Ross' smile grew. "Is there any other kind?"

The two looked at each other, then back to him. "We're in," they said in unison.

"And finally, there is Songbird, whose voice can work wonders…..

Malibu, California

A month ago.

The once-lavish mansion now looked like an unused movie set. Gaps on the wall showed where expensive artwork had been hung along with the spaces for six gold records. A once-glistening trophy case was now down to just a few minor awards. Much of the furniture was already gone and if one went upstairs, they would see the cleaned out closets and drawers whose contents had been sold off in a desperate attempt to pay off bills. It was obviously futile judging from the realtor's sign on the front lawn the size of a small basketball court.

In the main living room, slumped on her couch, the artist once known simply as Mimi sat dejected. Instead of one of the countless wigs or hair dyes that had been copied by scores of artists and performers, her black hair was a tousled mess. Instead of any of the outrageous outfits the public knew her by, she wore only a simple blouse and jeans. She took another spoonful of ice cream from the carton before her as she watched the coverage on the huge TV on her wall.

"…And in other entertainment news, the rumors are confirmed that Melissa Gold, the artist formerly known as Mimi, has officially filed for bankruptcy. The one-time Grammy-winning darling, known for her fantastic concerts and stunning style, has seen her career nosedive after confirmation she had stolen the lyrics for several of her hit songs and then bilked the original writers out of profits. This came immediately after a video of her bad-mouthing her fans in a drunken rant hit along with proof of her copying the dance routines of a high school club. Combined with her infamous party lifestyle and her flop last album and it's little wonder the diva is on her way down…"

Cursing, Melissa hit the remote to turn the TV off. She slumped back on the couch, trying to mull over her thoughts. All her hard work to escape that one-stoplight town, to make herself into a star, to be a huge deal….All gone thanks to listening to an ex-manager who hadn't hesitated to throw her under the bus when the lawsuit of the writers hit. It wasn't fair that she had to suffer for it. Sure, she went along with it but it wasn't her idea. She was a good singer but now slammed as nothing but a fraud and her life over. At only 26.

She heard the door open but barely looked up as she heard the footsteps. "I still have until tomorrow to vacate," she announced. "Let me just have one night in an actual bed before I go to that crappy motel."

"A pretty big come down," Ross said as he stepped into the room. "My granddaughter was a fan." He was clearly emphasizing the "was" part of the sentence.

"So no autograph?" Melissa sardonically said. She chewed another bite of ice cream. "Listen, my lawyer handles any more complaints and such. Just leave me alone."

"Is that what you want, Melissa? Sink down into the morass and turn into another music has-been? From what I can gather, you couldn't get a job singing at a shopping mall these days." He looked her over. "Too bad. You had potential. An athlete in high school before you fell into music. And that voice…that very special voice, that truly is one of a kind."

She looked up at him. "I know," she said in a flat tone that still had a bit of pride left. "Listen, just who are you anyway? What do you want?"

"I want to offer you a chance, Melissa. A chance to avoid a spiral into drugs. A chance to make something of your life with that voice of yours in a way you could never think possible."

She returned to her carton. "Not interested, don't let the door-"

"A chance to be a star again."

The spoon froze halfway to her mouth. She slowly looked up at him, seeing he was dead serious. She put the spoon into the carton, placed it on the table and motioned to a chair opposite her. "Okay, old-timer. Sit down and let's talk turkey."

"I gathered together these individuals in hopes of helping where we could," Ctizen V told the reporters. "We will be keeping our identities a secret but believe me when I say our intentions are always to help."

A reporter spoke up. "Goliath, your growing, is that much like Ant-Man's?'

Goliath coughed. "Well, kind of…I mean…We sort of have to keep a bunch of stuff secret. To give us an edge on the bad guys, you know?"

"Are you affiliated with any groups?"

"Do you have funding?"

"No to the former," Meteorite stated. "As for the latter, we make do but again, we are keeping some things quiet. Unlike the Avengers, we don't want to broadcast our true identities or too much about ourselves. Both for our own safety and those close to us."

A female reporter raised a hand. "Will you be operating out of Los Angeles?"

"We must keep our exact headquarters a secret location for now," Citizen V stated. "But we will be focusing on the West Coast itself."

"What's the meaning of the name?" another reporter called out.

"'Justice like lightning, ever should appear, to few men ruin but to all men's fear.' Thomas Randolph." V motioned to the team. "We are that lightning. We are that justice. Whenever we are needed, we shall strike like a thunderbolt."

He held up his sword, the cameras focusing on him. "This is a warning for anyone who plans criminal activity in Los Angeles or nearby. We will find you and we will stop you. We may not be true heroes, as of yet. But we are dedicated to protecting this city, this state and the entire world if need be. From the most powerful mob bosses to the lowly street criminals...We will be watching you. And there is nowhere you will be able to hide from us."

He moved back onto the large floating platform. "Now, if you will excuse us, we do have to unwind following the battle. But rest assured, you will be seeing us again." The platform slowly rose up and, to the surprise of the reporters, shimmered before vanishing from sight.

"And so it would appear the West Coast finally has a team of heroes to call its own! Reports are already coming in of 'Thunderbolts' trending online and no doubt merchandise is being prepared to be sold on the streets at any time. While we still don't know much about this team, it does seem they are as much true heroes as the Avengers…."

Bill Foster clicked the TV off as he heard the T-Wing (as Techno had insisted on calling it) flying in, the cloak fading. Behind it, the large doors leading into the underground chamber sealed themselves. Foster strode out to meet the group, nodding at them. The underground chamber was loaded with various scientific devices which were much more advanced than what had been at his old lab. "Looks like you guys made a big splash," he announced. He gazed with concern at Ghost and Goliath. "You two all right?'

"I told you, Uncle Bill, I'm fine," Tom assured him, peeling off his mask. "We spent weeks making sure the growing wouldn't affect my physiology like it would Lang."

"Hank never could crack that quite right," Foster mused. "I guess he needed a fresh set of eyes."

V was pulling off his mask to show the face of Helmut Zemo. "You did well today," he said. "But there is much room for improvement." He pointed at Techno. "For example, you need to follow orders and not get in the way. And Goliath, try not to speak as much in public, especially on science matters."

Goliath sighed. "I'm still not happy you want me playing at being dumber."

"Two reasons," Zemo stated. "First, it distances you from your other identity. Second, it'll make enemies underestimate you. They think you're nothing but dumb muscle, you can take them unawares with how smart you are." He nodded to Songbird. "You were quite good in the field but you still need further combat training. You can't rely on just flashy moves."

"Hey, I'm a performer, being flashy comes naturally," Songbird defended herself. She waved to Ross. "He's the one who picked me!"

"Actually, I did," Techno intoned. "That voice of yours is just distinctive enough to make my carapace work, you can't just slap it on anyone."

"Yes, yes, Techno, you invented her device, you helped craft MACH-1's armor, there is no end to your genius," Zemo sarcastically said. "But if you ever ignore my orders in the field again, you're going to need that brain of yours to craft a new arm." That actually made the arrogant man shut up.

Zemo turned to Meteorite. "As for you, Sofen, I understand your need for control but that doesn't excuse you also ignoring civilians."

"I saw a chance to take down that beast," Sofen snapped. "What was wrong with that?"

"We're supposed to be heroes, Sofen. Heroes care for the lives of innocent people. I understand that's a foreign concept to you but you have to work on it."

She sniffed. "You're going to lecture me on morality, Zemo? After all you did?"

Zemo was moving right up to her, his own face hard. "I did what I felt was right at the time for my family. Not out of purely selfish reasons."

Sofen rolled her eyes. "Right. Blow up a conference, create mass chaos, and tear apart the world's greatest super-team simply out of a warped vengeance. The fact that your actions contributed to things becoming such a mess with Dusting really should have been a warning sign, Zemo. You can add that flag to your outfit as Ross insists but you're no patriot. Classic projection with attempts to compensate for the loss of your family."

In a flash, his sword was stuck right in her face. "Never. Bring up my family," Zemo coldly stated. Meteorite just narrowed her eyes, which crackled with power.

"Oh, great, they're trying to kill each other again," Techno muttered.

Songbird waved a hand. "Ah, this is nothing. I've seen Katy and Taylor going at with Ariana and Gaga, this is minor league beef."

"If you two are going to start fighting, we might as well shut this all down now." The group all turned to see Ross stepping into the room in his usual suit. "You did a good job today. You made a big splash and got the media on your side. It's a good first step but there's a lot more work to do."

"Just what were those things?" Jenkins asked as he pulled off his helmet. "They were just some wild monsters, that's really more Avengers territory."

"We'll be checking on that," Ross assured him. "As I said, it's a good debut. Hopefully, your next missions will be a bit quieter." He put down a tablet. "That contains information on various crime operations on the West Coast. This Maggia group has been making more inroads but I figure you can be a good match for them."

Zemo crossed his arms. "The deal was that we decide our jobs, Ross. Not be totally beholden to you."

"The deal is what I say it is," Ross said in a hard tone. "Don't forget, one word and you're all back in jail." He looked to Songbird. "Or the poor house."

"Poor house, who says that anymore?" Foster muttered.

Ross looked back to Zemo. "You want some new focus in your life, Zemo. You want a sense of purpose with your old one gone. I'm giving that to you but don't mistake this for a charity case. You refuse my orders and it's right back into an even worse cell." He looked to the others. "I know you have your issues with him but he is the field commander. So what he says, it goes for me until I tell you otherwise." He pointed at Sofen. "That includes you too, Doctor."

Ross crossed his arms as he looked them over. "Let me make this clear one last time. This base, this team, your freedom, all rest on me. Which means if any of you screw up, it's going to go badly. By which, you hold the bag. There are no official records of this base or any of the aid received. As far as others are concerned, you might as well have all escaped jail. Any of you remember Mission Impossible? I am the secretary who will disavow all knowledge of your actions. You get caught or exposed, I don't care if I'm under oath, I will claim to have never met any of you." Ross gave them a final hard look before turning on his heel. "I have to get back to Washington. For now, rest up and get ready. Your little 'hero' trip is just beginning."

As he exited, Foster shook his head. "And I thought Hank could be full of himself."

"It is interesting," Sofen mused. "The Ross I've seen on TV doesn't seem quite that domineering." She shrugged. "Ah, people can be quite different in person, I know that."

"He is correct in one regard," Zemo addressed them all. "We do not like one another. But we must engender a level of trust if this is going to work. Which means at least putting on the semblance of teamwork in the field." He began to walk toward the exit. "Get some rest now, combat training begins at 0800."

"Huh?"

"Eight in the morning, Songbird."

She rolled her eyes. "Ugh, and I thought some of my tours had rough schedules." She began walking off with MACH-1 falling behind her. She looked at him and sighed. "Listen…thanks for helping me out back there. I'm not…used to owing people."

"Same here," he intoned. "You paid me back so makes us even. Hey, we gotta work together, might as well make the most of it." He adjusted his suit. "You could still use some pointers flying, I can help there."

"Huh. Maybe. Not like I can share on Instagram anymore. Or hit a studio."

"Too bad. I liked your last album."

She smirked. "Hold up. You're a fan?"

"You have a very large following in prison."

Songbird frowned. "Really not sure how to take that…."

Ghost adjusted her own suit as she followed Tom and Bill. "I felt…something when that creature struck me. Like some sort of buzzing and then a break in my quantum field."

"We'll check that out," Bill said, leading toward his small lab on the side of the underground chamber. "I do want to look over the readings on those creatures, it was as if they were somehow jamming up the scanners."

"This is what we get tangling with other-dimensional monsters or aliens," Tom sighed out as he followed them with Techno falling in behind.

Zemo and Sofen were still glaring at one another. "If this blows up, I will come after you first," she stated, holding up a glowing fist. "I want this chance myself so I'll play out Ross' little game. But don't think I'll just let myself be commanded by a murderer."

"I've read your file, Sofen. You have no room to talk on my own actions." Zemo didn't seem at all intimidated. "You shall have one shot, Sofen. Don't waste it." With that, they both turned on their heels to head to their respective rooms.

The private plane was far more expensive than what would expect from a military general turned Secretary of State. Ross entered it, brushing at his coat as he headed to the large office set in the rear. He stepped inside as he saw the figure standing before the desk amid the elegant furnishings. He wore a strange greenish costume with a long cape and what appeared to be a huge opaque bowl set over his head. His arms were crossed in a dramatic fashion as he was clearly putting on a pose.

Ross glared at him. "Are you not going to take that ridiculous disguise off?"

With a chuckle, Mysterio allowed the suit to flow off him, revealing the handsome and smirking features of Quinten Beck. "I could ask you the same thing."

After a pause, Ross reached to his neck and pressed down on it. His fingers seemed to dig into his flesh before slowly peeling off what appeared to be a strange electronic mask. As it pulled away, the features of Thaddeus Ross had vanished. Instead, there was a younger man with an odd weave to his hair and a smirk on his lips. He brushed a hand through his face to cleanse the last traces of the nanotech mask away. He headed over to the nearby bar to pour himself a glass of bourbon. "At least that doesn't itch as much anymore," Norman Osborn stated in his real voice as he poured his drink.

"Glad it worked out," Beck noted. "I know, it was tricky taking the old SHIELD mask tech and mixing it with my own additions but it did great." Beck shook his head as he poured himself a drink. "They really bought it. Every one of them, hook, line, and sinker." He laughed. "Damn, Osborn, you do a great Ross."

"It's not hard," Osborn replied as he sat in his plush seat to sip at his own drink. "I just act boorish, overbearing and pretend to be someone who thinks he's a lot smarter than he really is."

"And you know nothing of that?"

"The latter one doesn't fit. I am smarter than most people."

"Still, it's incredible." Beck chuckled. "I mean, sure, the government does crappy stuff. But they really think the Secretary of Defense, a four-star general, is going to get them to allow a terrorist, a pack of cons and some pop princess to become sanctioned super-heroes on secret missions? Not to mention financing them on a government budget?"

"Old line the real Ross gave me once," Osborn stated with a smirk. "Folks who buy government conspiracies make two huge mistakes. First, they think the government is competent. Second, they think the government can keep a secret." He sipped his drink. "Ever since SHIELD fell, folks are used to some dark stuff abounding so not too hard to sell them on this. Sometimes, the more outlandish stories are the ones folks are ready to believe the most."

"It's a risk," Beck pointed out. "Sure, they keep up the act for now but if it goes badly, it can backfire on you. Especially if the Avengers get involved."

"I can handle it," Osborn confidently replied. "Right now, they've got the public on their side and I can cover the funding up. The big fake attack was needed to make a splash but the great thing about L.A. is that there's no shortage of crime for them to fight. Worse comes to worst, I'm sure you can supply some sort of threat for them to fight."

"I might be able to," Beck smirked. "Just be careful, Osborn. Stretch it too far…"

"Again, I'll handle it." Osborn fixed a glare on Beck. "Just be sure you can handle your part in things."

"I did my part with those 'Elements', didn't I?" Beck replied. "Even those guys didn't realize they were faked. I can still supply anything you'd want. I even fixed it so they made minimum damage, I could have easily upped the body count. More casualties, more coverage."

"I don't need a monster body count," Osborn stated. He paused and shrugged. "Well…not yet."

Beck sat across from Osborn, sipping at his drink. "You know, for a brief bit, before you found me for this whole deal, I'd actually considered playing the hero. Fake some threats, cook up a wild backstory and then battling those very monsters to get attention. To show up Stark and make my mark on the world, be the real stand-out star."

Osborn smirked. "And just how long until Stark found out you were a former employee let alone the guy who helped create the holographic tech? It's why I'm putting them in L.A., the further from the Avengers' direct eye, the better to make this all work." He shook his head at Beck. "The hero thing? That's not where the money lies, Beck. Not where the power lies. No, we're going to make our own mark in our own way."

"But you're letting them be the heroes," Beck mused. "It took me a while to figure it out but I get it. You've got your own team out there, getting the attention, winning the public trust. A team that thinks they have no choice but to go along with orders and that the government is backing them up. A team who will take shortcuts and go a bit more extreme." He smiled. "Just the team to take on the Avengers if you want them to…"

Osborn gave a tap to the forehead in a "you got it" reaction. "All it takes is one little spark, one little thing to go wrong…and when the public turns on the Avengers, the Thunderbolts will be there to take up the slack."

"Yeah but head-to-head fight, Avengers have the edge."

"For now," Osborn noted. "That can change down the road."

Beck studied him. "So you got more plans but you're not going to tell me." He shrugged as if it was no concern. "Fair enough. Like I said, as long as it screws over Stark, I'm in for the long haul."

"That's good," Osborn said. "Because I had another plan for you with a squad I've got cooking."

"Another team?" Beck raised his eyebrow.

"This is different," Osborn said. "It won't be public. Not yet at least. Unlike the Thunderbolts, I plan on keeping it small and tight. For…special jobs."

"Small huh?"

"Yes." Osborn smiled softly. "I think around…six."

He and Beck leaned forward to clink their glasses together as the plane took off for New York City.

Now, my plan was straight up, the Thunderbolts as Ross' team. Then the use of Mysterio in Far From Home got me thinking about that guy and how, with Tony still around, his plans for "fake being a hero" would have to be different. Which led me to think about how the T-Bolts were always best as "villains in disguise" and that led me to Osborn as the mastermind for his own private agenda.

Originally, the Vulture would be MACH-1 but decided to go for someone younger and leave Vulture for Sinister Six. Ghost was always in the plan in exchange for helping her condition and tossing in Tom Foster as Goliath just fit.

For some "castings":

For Osborn, I'll go with the flow and agree Matthew McConaughey would be great for the part.

Meteorite/Moonstone: Evan Rachel Wood

Goliath: Jharrel Jerome

MACH-1: Josh Hutcherson

Songbird: Victoria Justice

Techno: Andrew Scott

Obviously, more setup for the future and yes, a T-Bolts/Avengers confrontation is down the road.