Part 2: THE COLONEL
3 days Earlier.
The Stygian Archive hummed with a low, mechanical thrum, a constant reminder of the darkness that resided within its depths. Colonel Martin Shaw, his face etched with the lines of years spent in service to his country, paced restlessly in front of Viktor Storm's office. He'd been summoned, and the air crackled with a tension that had nothing to do with the impending storm raging outside.
He knocked, a low, measured sound against the heavy oak door.
"Enter," Viktor's voice boomed from within.
Martin pushed open the door, his gaze sweeping across the room. Storm sat behind his desk, a mountain of files scattered across its surface. The man was an enigma, a shadow figure who operated on the fringes of legality.
Martin, a man of rigid discipline and unwavering loyalty to the nation, often found himself at odds with Storm's methods.
"Colonel Shaw," Viktor acknowledged, his eyes fixed on a file. "Glad you could make it... Please, have a seat." He gestured to the open chair.
Martin sat, his gaze sweeping across the room. The Stygian Archive, a place of shadows and secrets, was an unsettling environment for a man who preferred the open air and the camaraderie of his men.
Viktor smiled cheerfully at Martin before asking "Do you know why I called you in today?"
"Not really... Why did you?" Martin replied, while finding Viktor's cheerful smile to be quite strangely unsettling as he is barely ever smiles. "Is he trying to find a reaction from me? Maybe the rumors are true, Viktor going soft..." Martin questioned himself as Viktor started explaining.
Viktor: As you know, the world is changing, Colonel, [he spoke with his voice a low, hypnotic rumble as his smile shifted into a frown.] The old rules of living no longer apply. The… unexplainable… is no longer confined to the fringes. It's here. Now. And we must be ready for it. [Viktor slid a document to Martin.]
Martin adjusted himself on his seat before having a look at the document. "What is this?"
Viktor leaned forward, his eyes gleaming. "Our first Assets..." He said as Martin's brows furrow as he scanned through the contents, Viktor continues "Each one unshackled by the limitations of morality, unburdened by the weight of conscience." Martin's eyes widen before his face changes from surprise to disgust after seeing the individuals listed on the pages: Jacob Carlson Drake, Ezra Darhk, Silas Voight, Jasper Braddock. With the crimes they have committed that led to their imprisonment here on the archive. "Together they are a unit that you will be leading."
Martin slams the file shut on the desk with his face etched with a mixture of disgust and disbelief. He glared at Viktor Storm, whose expression remained impassive. "You want me to... to lead a team of… of these?" he spat, gesturing towards the file with a trembling hand. "Pardon me for saying this but... have you lost your freaking mind?! These are criminals!"
"With unique abilities that separates them from the rest, Martin." Viktor added with his hands steepled. "These individuals can out run bullet trains, survive close missile strikes, pull stunts that you wouldn't believe. THEY are the ones that can help keep this world balanced."
Martin scoffs and shakes his head, not believing what he's hearing. "They are in the archive for a REASON, Vik. Convicts that have the power to take Nobody's orders."
Viktor leaned forward "UNLESS... You give them a reason to follow orders." He stared at Martin coldly, unsettling him with goosebumps as all Martin does is stare speechless at Viktor as he stood up his chair and walked to the window overlooking the drizzled weather, his gaze fixed on the grey clouds. "We now live in a world where mutants, fairies and others can live among us, overpower us, PROVE that they can burn this world to a crisp and there's nothing that we humans can do about it... and you, I'm Right, Martin. I mean you've seen it first hand, no?"
Martin clenches his teeth as the rain outside now mirrors the storm brewing within him. He stood up from his chair and Viktor commands him immediately with a grim expression now present on his face, "SIT. Down." Two words... that was enough to have sent shivers down Martin's spine as he obeyed and sat back down on his seat.
Viktor scoffed, before turning to speak to Martin from where he stands.
Viktor: After what you just did, you nolonger have a choice to make... Colonel. Go home, gather your thoughts and once done. You will be getting your team ready with those four listed for your first mission. Fail... and you will be taken somewhere WORSE than the archive, I'll make sure of it.
Martin: I.. Understand.
Viktor: [Grunts] You can leave now...
Martin nodded, following orders as He turned and strode out of the office, his rage a palpable force.
The rain continued to lash against the windows of the Stygian Archive, more violently as time passes. Martin walked down the long, sterile hallway, hearing a constant ringing with his teeth clenched, veins showing on his hands and temple. His mind replayed the argument before striking the concrete wall on his right with a tight Fist, a heavy thud is heard from the impact. "I mean you've seen it first hand, no?" The only words that had triggered Martin the most as a chilling flashback washes over him.
Afghanistan, 2012 (Flashback)
A much younger, leaner, Martin Shaws stood on the edge of a desolate ravine,leading a crack team of twenty soldiers on a covert mission deep within enemy territory. The air was thick with anticipation as his best friend, Lieutenant James Vances, prepared to lead a ten-man squad into a seemingly deserted building.
Martin: Ready for this, James? (Martin asked over the radio, a grin splitting his face.)
James: Born ready. (he had replied, his eyes gleaming with caution.)
James assault was swift and silent. They infiltrated the compound, moving with the precision of a well-oiled machine. Then, chaos erupted. An explosion is heard coming from the compound and a barrage of enemy fire rained down on Martin and his team, forcing them to take cover. Martin, pinned down by a hail of bullets, frantically tried to contact James, his voice crackling over the comms.
Martin: James! Report!
Static crackled on the line.
James: ...Artin… am... we're… tack… something…
James's voice Reilly's voice trailed off, replaced by the sound of explosions.
Martin: James? James!?!
Martin watched in horror as the building where James and his men had entered erupted in a blinding flash of light and from its wreckage, a hulking figure of grey emerged, soaring into the air with unnatural speed. Its monstrous roars are heard as It crashed into the ground near martin and his men, sending a shockwave through the earth blasting everyone back.
On the ground surrounded in dust, Martin groaned, turning his body to the side to see a few of his men dead and scattered around with no signs of injury visible outside their bodies. He turns again to see the monster roar but all that could be heard is the buzzing in his ears.
Martin witnesses as a rocket propelled grenade exploded on the monster's back, drawing its immediate attention towards the enemy forces firing at it.
The monster leaped to the forces with a heavily earth quaking launch, crashing into most of its unlucky victims as all there can be seen are splatters of red matter.
The remaining soldiers from both sides unleashed a barrage of fire at the monster and when given a chance at one another again.
The fight was brutal, a desperate struggle for survival. Every men fought valiantly, but the creature was a force of nature. Tearing through their ranks, its movements a blur of motion.
"Sarge...! Sarge!" A yell fallen on deaf ears as an allied soldier ran ans dropped to Martin's side, seen visibly panting, face covered by the dust risen.
Martin: Private Reilly.... (He whispered as he watches Reilly's lips move with his expression intensed with fear. "What could he be saying?" Martin wondered before Reilly got Martin up to his feet.)
Martin: Urgh... (He groaned, wrapping his arm around his mid section while Reilly had his other arm around his shoulder.)
Private Reilly: Come on Sarge!
"Heeey! Over here! Come on!" Another survivor of the allied forces yelled from a safer distance away from the fight.
They'd make their way to the soldier, Martin having been limping with Reilly being his support.
Reaching the soldier, he runs up to Martin's other side to place his wrapped arm over his shoulders. Martin groaned having his arm been removed from his mid section.
Private Reilly: We gotta get outta here!
Private Howard: I've called in air strike...
Martin's vision blurring with his breathing being the only thing heard besides the buzz, he shuts his eyes slowly and reopens them to see an explosion meters away where they once were and missiles being dropped by 3 more fighter drones in the air, making their quick exit as they first appeared.
In the aftermath. Once were the twenty men who had entered the battle and now in the aftermath only three remained their faces etched with the horror of what they had witnessed.
Martin stood over the bodies of his fallen comrades, the rain washing away the blood, the silence broken only by the mournful cries of the wind.
The flashback ended as abruptly as it began and Martin found himself standing in a cold, sterile cemetery, rain falling softly upon the gravestones in rows each one with a name of a fallen comrade but there's one in particular that he looked down on, with his impassive expression falters, trying to hold back his tears amongst the rain that mirrors a turmoil within him.
Martin: James... (he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.) They said you died a hero. But I always thought… I always thought you deserved better. (He knelt before a weathered stone, tracing the inscription with his finger.)
Martin: You wouldn't have wanted this, would you? To see me turn my back on everything we fought for... (A bitter laugh escaped his lips.) Honor, duty, loyalty… all meaningless words now, aren't they? In this new world. (He closed his eyes, the rain washing away the dust of the past.) But, what if… what if he's right? What if these… these individuals… can help us reclaim what we've lost?
The memory of his fallen comrades, their faces etched in his mind, flickered before his eyes. He thought of the fear, the desperation, the helplessness he had felt that day.
Martin: Perhaps, (he murmured, a chilling resolve hardening his features,) perhaps it's time to embrace the unexpected.
He rose to his feet, a newfound determination hardening his gaze. He would join Storm. He would wield these "miscreants" as weapons, a dangerous gamble, but a gamble he was willing to take. For himself. For his fallen comrades. For the future.