Weakest Link in the Chain, Part 8

Chapter Eight: The Flim-Flam Man
By C.M. King


“What the crud?!”

The Falcon awakens to find himself in a bizarre imprisonment. He is suspended in a room by his hands, which are tied over his head to a length of rope that hangs from the ceiling and leaves him perched against the far wall. Under his feet, a small shelf is all he has to prop himself up on. Surrounding him are dozens of ceremonial-looking candles that burn intently and seem to be placed everywhere in the room. And most shockingly of all, upon the far wall rests the painted symbol of a yellow circle with a deathly skull within and six tentacled-limbs protruding from it.

“Either this is this most F’ed Up dream I’ve ever had, or ..”

A man with a rifle cuts him off who is dressed in the familiar green and gold-trimmed garb of Hydra. “Shut up, you vermin! You now serve those that the whole world shall shortly serve!”

“Oh my god, you guys again?! Since when did morons like you get into the Asgardian kidnapping game?” and who they hell were those costumed bozos?”

“The fate of the Avengers are none of your concern. You should worry about remaining alive. For even if you could even manage to cut off one of our limbs…”

Sam interrupts him. “Yeah - yeah, I heard that dumbass record before, and it gets no easier to listen to each time.”

“Stupid, mongrel!” The henchman exits the room and slams the door in disgust.

Alone once again in his confinement, Sam Wilson plots a path to his freedom. A row of burning candles on a shelf above his head and to the right give him an idea. He uses his great acrobatic skill to climb the wall with his powerful legs while his hands hold the rope for support. When he has gained enough altitude, he kicks out in a small swing just far enough to knock over one of the burning candles. Through painful contortion, he manages to position part of his rope over the displaced flame until it has burned through one end. Five minutes later the Falcon is completely free of his bonds. A quick check of his own person turns up his Avengers communicard, although it is in a very damaged and bent condition. Luck holds out for Sam as he is able to send a signal that is answered by the Avenger on monitor duty, Wonder Man.

“Simon, am I so glad to be talking to you! I’ve been captured by some Hydra goons who were incidentally powerful enough to capture Thor as well. I tried to contact you guys before, did you get my message?”

“We received a message from you last night, but it was too badly garbled to decipher. We’ve been trying to call you back ever since with no luck. Glad to hear you’re still alive, bro.”

The Falcon relays all the details that he has quickly. After the conversation, he tries to formulate a plan on what he will do until the Avengers arrive. He fails to make contact with Red Wing, which worries him not a little. Then he finds a piece of wood he intends to use as a club. However, before he can do anything more, the room is flooded with a thick knock-out gas that sedates him instantly. After the fumes have dispersed, a section of the wall rolls up to reveal the presence of the entire Malevolence Union.

Othello changes his form from his Hyrda lackey disguise, to his true identity. “And so the trap is set. It is crucial to my plans that the entire active roster of the Avengers be destroyed within the next 12 hours. After that, the risk is too great that one of the disappearances will raise an alarm.” He points a menacing finger at the fallen Falcon. “And this intruding imbecile gave me exactly what I needed to bait the mousetrap. I can only impersonate appearances with my Lamprey Stone, not voices. But with him …” Othello switches on a small tape recorder in his hand. The Falcon’s voice plays loud and clear: “Bring everyone you got to the address given, or follow my card’s signal.”

The villain continues his explanation. “So I decided to relay his previous message as indecipherable to allow the troops to be concerned enough to gather. Then I let this fool be able to escape long enough to relay a message full of only enough information to lead his friends straight to slaughter.”

“Damn, you’re sneaky, Big O! I’d definitely rather be with ya than against ya,” chimes in a happy Dymium. “But why all the theatrics in there?”

“I find your practicality particularly appealing, my dear. And I want the Avengers unprepared for what awaits them. They now think they only have an unsuspecting Hydra battalion to deal with. And after their deaths, we will make sure that Hydra gets all the blame.”

“Thulkon scratches his head. “But why wouldn’t we want the credit for what we did? And why not just dispose of the ones we already have before the others get here?”

“Because Hero deaths’ will be poured over closely. If we want to get out of this blameless, we need to make sure they all die together in one great big accident. I estimate that a state funereal for several fallen Avengers will cause all the others to turn up. While they deal with their grief and pursue the hopeless Hydra lead, we will finish the unsuspecting lot.”

In the following silence, Othello walks over to the corner to pick up a hence unnoticed item sitting in the shadows. The armament looks like a high-tech rifle that has a small, parabolic-shaped dish at its end. “And to do that ... I’ve prepared to greet the Avengers properly when they arrive.”

NEXT: Lucky Break.