[FFML] Try this again. Avenging act 4 chap. 8 Forwarded for DB Sommer

[peter]

Try posting this again.  Tried to space out the formatting so it's not a 
solid block of text but likely missed a few parts. So that's on me.

Peter


Avenging
Act IV
The Hate Monger and the Peacemaker
Chapter 8


Any and all C+C appreciated. You can contact me at:
sommert at consolidated.net

All the previous chapters and my other works are stored at:

At fanfiction.net:
http:// www.fanfiction.net/

Standard disclaimer: I don’t own any of the Marvel characters or other 
characters from the numerous animes which are within.

Here’s a great reference guide for many character and objects in the Marvel 
Universe.

www. marvunapp.com/Appendix/index. htm

What happened before: Mesmero tried freeing himself from Biko’s clutches by 
using Thor, Wasp, and the Hulk to kill her. After an inconclusive fight with 
her protector, the Super Adaptoid, Biko’s hired assassin, Hitman, killed 
Mesmero.

And the reporter, Abe, was from Act 3 Chapter 8, so I didn’t bother 
reintroducing him.
xxxxxxxxxxxx
Ranma leapt over the wall surrounding the backyard of the Tendou grounds, 
mindful that no one saw him. It was the dead of night, the street was dark, 
and he had doubled back on his route twice. One could never be too careful 
about a secret identity. Considering all the mishaps in his life, it was 
probably lucky that only Nabiki knew and was sympathetic to him. Or at least 
as sympathetic as Nabiki could manage.

Night patrols always carried a large degree of security. He’d leave with an 
oversized gym back with his equipment and headed for a park. He’d change in 
some bushes, then leave the bag with his normal clothing in the trees. Bird 
droppings were the only thing that could reach something that high. Now if 
that American hero, Squirrel Girl lived nearby, he might worry about its 
discovery, but otherwise it was a fine location. Upon his return it was a 
quick change in some bushes, exiting the park as a normal teenager who was 
out and about in the dead of night. Nothing suspicious about that at all.
Ranma made his way into the darkened house, slipping into the room he and 
his father shared. He stripped off his clothing, then caught a whiff of his 
body odor. While he had only taken down a couple of muggers, he was sweaty 
enough a bath would be a good idea before going to sleep. Luckily he had 
superior stamina and didn’t need as much sleep as a normal person. Otherwise 
between school, feigning a normal life, training, and super heroing he would 
have been too burned out to do anything.
Since everyone would be asleep, he went about only in a pair of boxers. Now 
that he was ‘off duty’ he considered the meeting with the Avengers from a 
few days ago. Not only had they failed to find the hypnotist who had 
ensnared Thor, Wasp, and the Hulk, but they couldn’t decide on what to do 
about Biko Stane. While it seemed certain she was up to something, they had 
no actual proof and couldn’t do anything other than keep an eye on her. At 
least they’d talked about her emerald robotic companion in case they crossed 
paths with it again. Robots that were an amalgamation of super abilities 
that could hold off those three simultaneously was nothing to sneeze at.


Thoughts still distracted Ranma as he opened the door to the bathroom. As he 
entered, he wondered why the occupied sign hadn’t been up since it held one 
Kasumi, which qualified it as ‘occupied’. As she turned at the sound, he 
noted she sported a serious black eye. The kind that was so big, if one had 
a puppy with a mark like that, you were legally obligated to name it Spot. 
There were no other marks of any kind, though. He knew that for a fact since 
she was naked.
Kasumi stared dreamily at him. “Hello, Ranma. Did you need to use the bath?”
Ordinarily, Ranma couldn’t move at near light speed-- super soldier serums 
didn’t bestow that-- but naked Kasumi’s could take him to a whole other 
level. It was all in the reflexes. He was out in the hall and shutting the 
door at the same time. He had nearly closed it on himself, he was so quick.
Kasumi stared at the door in confusion. Really, he hadn’t needed to be so 
rude. She would have shared it with him.
xxxxxxxxxx
Ranma darted into his room and shot under covers. That was not his fault. 
The understanding was, either you put the occupied sign up, or what happened 
to you was your own fault. No sign; no foul.
At least Kasumi hadn’t seemed angry. In fact, she had seemed pretty casual 
about him just popping in while she was naked. Clearly she was interested in 
him, just like the other girls. Perhaps she was upping the ante in the 
fiancée sweepstakes by offering to jump his bones. That made perfect sense. 
He just hadn’t seen a move like that coming. Women were… kind of 
complicated. Sort of like a super-villain who was trying to steal all the 
cream cheese in Japan, but wouldn’t explain why.
Damn that Baron Von Blimp anyway.
While Ranma couldn’t blame Kasumi --he was a heck of a catch-- the timing 
was just way off with his curse, his being a superhero, his mother hating 
him, his not actually wanting to be engaged. That was one full plate. 
Although thinking about it, Kasumi was definitely a very healthy girl. Not 
quite as healthy as his own cursed form, but who was? And if he married 
someday, he had nothing against someone that…healthy.
He shut his eyes, and drifted off to sleep, having some very…healthy dreams 
about one of his potential female suitors.

xxxxxxxx
The alarm went off and Kasumi rose from her bed. As she blinked a few times, 
she realized the cobwebs that had been in her head were now gone. That was a 
relief. She really had been sloppy letting some mere normal goon smash a 
chair into her face. The piece of furniture hadn’t broken either, like they 
did in movies. Luckily, he had been the last opponent who she dispatched 
with a minimum of fuss, but she had probably been concussed. Everything that 
occurred afterward had taken a dreamlike quality. So much so she wasn’t sure 
what had been awake and what had been a dream after the blow to the head.
It was a good thing she recovered from injuries at what was clearly 
superhuman speed. Not true regeneration like Tigra, but normal people wouldn’t 
have been able to take the beatings she did and bounce back by the next day. 
She loved her super powers so.

As she yawned and stretched her arms, Kasumi realized she had slept naked. 
She’d never done that. It had always been very conservative pajamas for her, 
which her friends had made fun of by calling them, ‘Granny wear’.  There was 
a time she’d been defensive about it, but not so much she had changed her 
wardrobe. Now she had gone and slept in the buff. Then again, what 
difference did it make? It wasn’t like she didn’t go about in public in 
skin-tight outfits, some of the more colorful ones showing, well, certainly 
not Tigra like skin (or fur, in the felinoid’s case), but an arm or leg cut 
out, sometimes they were a bit low and showed off the top of her bust. And 
she liked them. Once she considered it, she was amused at the change. There 
was a time she wouldn’t have gone out in anything but an ankle-long dress, 
unless she was going out at the beach. And even then it would have been one 
pieces only. Now she was less inhibited, and it felt wonderful.

Her dreams were becoming more risqué as well. She’d just had one about 
Ranma, dressed only in his boxers, coming into the bath while she was 
washing and she had made him an offer to join her. Sadly it was not one of 
her… naughtier dreams, and he had refused. That made her smile. Had she done 
that in real life, she doubted he would have been able to refuse the 
invitation. While he was no Casanova, she was certain he was at least a 
little interested in her. Even if she really wasn’t interested in him. Well, 
interested in the way the fathers were insisting she be interested in him.
Although, she had never lived under a roof so closely with a man that was so 
near her age. And he was, okay, hunky. She could admit that now. And quite 
pleasant, if a bit rough around the edges. But it was clear even if he was 
uncouth at times, he meant well. So he was sort of interesting in a way that 
was similar to what the fathers wanted, but not quite what they wanted. And 
there was nothing wrong with that. Actually there was a lot right with him, 
especially if her dream was any indication of her subconscious desires.

Kasumi shook her head free of the thoughts. It was time to make breakfast. 
She yawned and went out into the hall.
Then went back inside and got dressed.

xxxxxxx
Nabiki came downstairs to the smell of sizzling meat. Her older sister had 
taken to making breakfast more protein laden than in the past, which was 
just fine with her. Practicing in the art always made her hungry, but now 
that she thought about it, her sister was packing down nearly as much food 
as her. She really needed to watch the caloric intake. If she wasn’t 
careful, she might fatten up a bit, which would make pawning her off on 
Ranma all the more difficult. And she had to ditch his do-gooder posterior 
on one of her siblings. Although he was good in a jam and had her back on 
more than one occasion. And not even charged her for it. He was actually 
very tolerable for a guy.

Not that she was interested in him. But she had to admit that while she wasn’t 
the least bit heroic, it wasn’t to say she couldn’t get along with someone 
like that. As long as they didn’t try to make her uptight like they were. 
But there was the whole, “I’m a superhero and people try to vaporize me on a 
regular basis,” which was a relationship killer as far as she was concerned. 
She still had occasional nightmares of her father finding out and making her 
become not just a fiancée, but also a superhero sidekick, despite him 
already having one in the form of Bucky. She had visions of being called 
something awful, like, Private Okinawa, The Terminatrix, or something 
ridiculously girly like, Starlight Shimmershine. She wouldn’t do it even if 
she could become one of those ‘Heroes for Hire’ she heard about, and 
actually got paid for her good deeds. She would have chosen to become a cop 
if that was her sort of thing. Best to get him foisted off on Akane or 
Kasumi. Then they could sew his costume when it got slashed to ribbons by 
every nut with a set of claws.
But that one recurring image came back to her. That one time she had barged 
in the bathroom and seen he was generously endowed with more than a giving 
nature. Sometimes she wondered if she wouldn’t like to at least sample the 
wares. It wasn’t like she was a kid anymore. She could handle an adult 
relationship of that nature. And it wasn’t like she’d even had a real 
boyfriend in her life.
Hormones were still giving advice to the higher processes of her mind as she 
entered the kitchen and greeted Kasumi. Her older sister turned and returned 
the greeting, which was when Nabiki spotted the slightly dark ring around 
one of Kasumi’s eyes. “What happened to you?” she asked suspiciously.

“What happened to me what?” Kasumi asked.

“The black eye?” Nabiki pointed at it.

Kasumi was confused, then felt around the area. “Oh, yes, that. I opened a 
door into my face. Quite embarrassing, really.”

“I see.” Nabiki turned and headed towards Ranma’s room. Without knocking, 
she threw open the door and just as he pulled up his pants, father already 
absent. In hindsight, had it been Genma in that position, it would have been 
nearly as unfortunate as seeing Fred J. Dukes in his G-string.

Well, no, nothing was as bad as that. But still a horrifying sight.

Getting back to the matter at hand, she said, “I’m calling in one of my 
markers, Cap.”

Ranma crossed the room in near Speed Demon-like velocity. His hand slapped 
over her mouth as he looked nervously in every direction all at once. “Sure, 
you can marker up my cap any time.”
Nabiki rolled her eyes. He had no ability to improvise. She removed his 
hand. “Something’s seriously wrong with Kasumi. She’s got a black eye and 
lying about it. Since the most physical thing she does is hang up laundry, 
something is going on.”

Ranma scrunched his nose at that. Now that he’d seen Kasumi naked, she 
looked way too athletically fit for someone that supposedly never engaged in 
physical activity. Maybe her new job had a gym the employees could use and 
Nabiki didn’t know her sister had a training regimen, which he then 
imagined. He tried really hard not to envision her jumping rope since, when 
he now thought of Kasumi, it only invoked clothing 50% of the time.
“She’s been getting home pretty late the last week or so,” Nabiki added. 
“Follow her around. Maybe she’s got herself a boyfriend that plays rough. In 
any case, report back to me and I’ll decide what to do.”
If that was the bottom of the mystery, Ranma would take care of the matter 
himself. He didn’t need to be a paragon of virtue to dislike guys who 
roughed up women. Unless the woman was a costumed lunatic that was trying to 
kill a guy, then you could beat the living heck out of them. He was big into 
equal rights that way.
At least this sounded like a simple task. He probably should have thought it 
himself since Kasumi had shown up with the shiner last night. But there had 
been some distracting distractions at the time. He wouldn’t even need his 
costume or shield. No, what he needed was an impenetrable disguise, like 
when he was Kodachi Kunou’s bodyguard at the party. That had been fun, 
except for Letha getting away. He so wanted a decisive rematch one of these 
days.

He began making a list of what to buy to make him unnoticeable.

xxxxxxxxx
Kang was concerned. In a lesser man it might have been fear, but Kang was a 
greater being. He had to be to accomplish his goals. He had been so careful, 
or so he thought. This timeline was still intact for what he needed to 
accomplish. It was the only one he found that could do the job. She was 
still alive, and still on course to meet the ‘him’ of this timeline. When 
the version of him that already existed in this ‘past’, left, Kang could pop 
up and take his place in this timeline as the one and only ‘him,’ now and 
forever.

Until he discovered the anomaly that would prevent this version of him 
meeting his love.

Kang had been probing the secrets of the Citadel of Time he resided in. He 
thought there was a chance he could kill the Avengers here while leaving the 
timeline perfectly intact. During his calculations he stumbled onto 
something dire. He wasn’t sure why it was about to happen: it didn’t even 
involve the Avengers. It was some minor detail, yet it represented a single 
domino in a chain that, if toppled, would ruin everything.
This was another issue. Kang knew he should have studied time more 
thoroughly, but there was a damning problem. No matter how much time travel 
he did, he continued to age normally. Even in places like this ‘Limbo’ where 
the Citadel resided, where the universal laws were different, every minute 
he existed was another minute he aged. Eight years had passed since his 
arrival, and soon he’d be too old to ever be accepted by her. He had to do 
this now, or lose the opportunity to be together forever.

While he could intervene directly to solve the matter, his mere proximity to 
the anomaly might worsen it, or create more until everything spiraled out of 
control. Best to operate through intermediaries and maintain a safe 
distance. Once back in the timestream he had to move fast.

His holographic disguise in place, he entered time at the exact moment his 
‘Senator Timely’ robot vanished back to the Limbo he had been in.
In his guise, Kang entered the waiting area of the office of John Smith. 
While officially John was a lower echelon advisor, Kang was one of the few 
that knew the difference. Being a confidant of the president, thanks to his 
well-timed advice on getting him elected, he knew Smith was the ‘go to guy’ 
for difficult problems. The kind the president happen to mention in Smith’s 
presence without officially telling him to do anything. Plausible 
deniability was a plus when called upon to testify, should the need arise.

Kang strode past the secretary, who stopped in mid-greeting and moved to 
intercept him before entering the office proper.

Kang said, “You have a tracking app on your husband’s phone. Use it to find 
out where he’s spending his afternoons.”

By all rights she should have ignored him, but the confidence in his voice 
made her hesitate only a moment before doing so. Just as Kang’s hand fell on 
the door handle he heard her screech, “That bastard!” and stormed out. Kang 
had looked ahead. Her husband would be surprised when he went home and his 
wife initiated their divorce with twenty stab wounds to the chest. Smith 
would have to hire a new secretary, but that wouldn’t change anything 
important.

As Kang entered he heard Smith stop talking mid-sentence. Kang didn’t see 
anyone in the office nor a phone or earpiece. Perhaps he had been using a 
recording device out of sight.
Smith was disconcerted but collected himself instantly. Smiling, he rose and 
walked over to Kang. “Senator, this is a surprise. I didn’t think you had an 
appointment.”

“I didn’t, but it’s very important or I wouldn’t have barged in here like 
this.”

“Well, you’ve certainly earned a barge in or two.” Smith indicated he should 
take a seat. Kang did so.

“This involves an issue with one of our overseas associates. The one we were 
hoping might start up certain initiatives which we could point to when the 
time came for us to start our own programs. In a nutshell, if this is not 
taken care of, they won’t start. And without them, it would make things that 
much harder for us.” And Kang told him the problem.

Smith brought out one of those long cigarette holders popular in the 50’s. 
Surprisingly, he didn’t bother lighting the cigarette in it. Kang wouldn’t 
have objected. He still smoked, a holdover from his pre-time traveling days.
After several moments of consideration, Smith nodded. “You were right in 
coming here. Don’t bother anyone else with this information. I’ll deal with 
it personally.”

“My lips are sealed.” And his eyes watching from above.

xxxxxxx
Ranma followed Kasumi at a good distance, though he probably could have been 
right behind her and she’d never notice. His disguise was that perfect. He 
had a beret and false goatee along with thick, black plastic framed glasses. 
His buttoned up yellow striped shirt was tight across his chest, but it was 
all the store had that would fit him. He wore a vest with a clip on bow tie 
and bell-bottomed acid washed jeans which the clerk assure him was quite 
fashionable. He thought he had this ‘hipster’ look down. He’d blend in to 
any crowd.

The surveillance had gone off without a hitch thus far. He’d waited at home 
until Kasumi departed to supposedly meet some co-workers, and wouldn’t be 
back until very late. Nabiki delayed her long enough for Ranma to don his 
disguise and slip out. He then followed his target at a discrete distance. 
Though curiously he had caught the eye of a number of people. He couldn’t 
imagine why since his disguise was impenetrable. Perhaps they hadn’t seen 
someone who worked out like him.

Kasumi walked a direct course, determined and with no side trips. It was as 
if she had to be somewhere promptly. Ranma followed as she entered a tram 
station, but then finally veered off course to a coin operated locker. She 
pulled out a key and removed a bag, then entered a women’s restroom.

Minutes passed by. Ranma became impatient as Kasumi took forever. Surely if 
she had to use the facilities for this long she would have used the ones at 
home. Unless she had mistakenly eaten some of Akane’s cooking. That could 
mess up the digestive track for days, as he found out firsthand. She had 
even gone so far as to say if they were ever officially engaged, she’d make 
every meal for him herself.
He’d rather go ten rounds with the Battling Bantam and the Gamecock again 
than subject himself to that torture.

Finally the door opened as Ranma prepared to take up the chase once again. 
Except it was some other woman dressed in a revealing top that 
simultaneously showed off a lot of cleavage and a lot of midriff. Her skirt 
made it past the curve of her bottom, though not by much. Thigh high leather 
boots were the only piece of clothing that covered more instead of way less 
than average. Given how little her clothing covered, he noted she was in 
great shape. She even had an angel tattoo on one shoulder, and a devil on 
the opposite one.

As he returned his attention to the door, something nagged at him. That girl 
had been familiar. Yet he was certain he’d remember someone who looked like 
that. But the feeling worsened. He examined her again (like most of the men 
she passed). Definitely familiar. It wasn’t the clothing, it was that body…

Of course! He pictured the girl naked and it was a dead ringer for Kasumi. 
And since the odds of her doppelganger using the same bathroom at the same 
time she did were astronomical, that meant it was her in disguise. Clearly 
she was on some surveillance mission herself. Or was it something more 
sordid?

He observed her return the bag to her locker and board a train. Ranma 
followed as well. They traveled a good distance before she finally 
disembarked. The section of town there were in was not the nicest, and to 
his surprise she went into the most not nicest part of the not nice section 
of town. Either she had developed Ryouga’s direction sense on her way to the 
market, or something else was going on. What had she gotten herself into?

xxxxxxxxxxxxx

Kasumi wondered when her tail would make his move. She was more than a touch 
delighted someone, probably a molester, was stalking her. Life had gotten so 
boring lately she had taken it upon herself to seek out excitement. She knew 
where ‘bad people’ tended to congregate in Tokyo, so she decided to dress 
like a girl looking to show a guy a good time, the kind that received 
monetary compensation for it. She had even gotten some press on fake 
tattoos, and pierced her belly button in addition to the risqué clothing. 
That look gained her entry into seedy establishments where seedy men would 
buy her very alcoholic drinks and offer her money, sometimes considerable 
amounts, to show them a good time.

Instead she convinced the men she wanted to go out for a good time, 
preferably the illegal type. She always implied the better the time he 
showed her, the better a time she’d show him. And that was how Kasumi had 
found herself in a number of places run by the criminal element. Gambling 
dens, fighting pits, bootleg video shows (some guys tried to impress women 
the wrong way). One man took her to a brothel with a floor show involving 
two very flexible people who, if contortionism was a super power, would have 
given the entire Avengers roster a run for the money.
Of course she never did anything with the men afterwards, other than thank 
them for a good time. The smart ones simply complained. The dumb ones tried 
to do something about it, and Kasumi ended up having an exciting night. The 
guys, not so much. Except the one who had enjoyed it. He even thanked her 
for the freebie.
Not all weird people dressed up in spandex.

The last few nights the Wasp paid a visit to the operations. None of them 
had super-powered muscle, but she was flying solo and there were enough 
hired guns to get her blood flowing. All had gone well until last night, 
when she had gotten sloppy and someone had landed a shot on her. She’d have 
to be more careful.

Now it was time for more reconnaissance, so she was hitting the ‘Harpooned 
Man’, which was the name of a bar that had come up often on her previous 
missions. To her delight she had someone following her, and she hoped for a 
hors d’oeuvre to whet her appetite. Most guys would have hit on her by now, 
but occasionally she hooked one who was up to no good and he received a 
sound thrashing. But this one was acting really oddly, and not just his 
bizarre fashion sense. He was making no effort to close the distance, 
content to remain well away.

Ultimately, it didn’t matter. If he tried anything, she’d deal with it. In 
the meantime she had business to attend.

xxxxxxxxxxxxx
“Councilwoman Ariyoshi, thank you for meeting me on such short notice.”

“It’s my pleasure.” Arjuna had to admit, this John Smith did cut a dashing 
figure in his suit. But then again, as one of her ex’s was fond of saying, 
‘Armani makes everything look better.’ Rolex on the wrist, manicured hands, 
flawless complexion, all spoke of large sums of money spent on impressing 
people who took note of such things. While she cared little on a personal 
level, she knew how the game was played.
And now it was a volley to her. “<I must say, your Japanese is quite good,>” 
she said in near-flawless English.

Smith smiled. “It could be better. Now I am fluent in German, Italian, 
French, and Romansh. I learned the last just so I could talk to anyone in 
Switzerland and ask them if they understand what the concept of ‘sides’ 
 are.”
Juna laughed, not because she thought it amusing, but because it was 
expected. Fine, he won the pissing contest. Time to move on to important 
matters.

“I admit, I was surprised when you were insistent on meeting on such short 
notice. But when you say it’s vital to my political future, well, let’s just 
say I hope you didn’t use that term lightly.”

“’Hyperbole is a refuge for the intellectually dishonest,’ is what I would 
like to say, but let’s admit it’s useful come campaign time. And no, it’s 
not hyperbole.” He pulled out a long cigarette holder and put one inside it.

“There’s no smoking here,” Juna informed him.

“Don’t worry. It’s not a real cigarette. I don’t even smoke. It’s an oral 
fixation I have. I used to chew through pens before I took up this. There’s 
little more undignified than having something that looks like an animal 
chewed on it on your desk. This at least looks a bit more distinguished.”

She had to admit, it almost looked natural there, even if she was a staunch 
anti-smoker.

“Now, I’ll cut to the chase since we both understand the stakes involved in 
this business. We hold the future of everything in our hands, or seek to, 
and when things jeopardize that, decisions must be made. Character making 
decisions.

“I have it on good authority that your campaign manager is about to go to 
the press regarding a certain government program you’re planning on 
instituting eventually. The one the American ambassador suggested given 
Japan’s recent issues, which also plague my country. We want to see it 
carried out, but there is the matter of timing.”

Juna’s mind barely took note of the words after the first sentence. “That 
can’t be. Ayako would never betray me. She’s been with me from the 
beginning. I wouldn’t have won my first local election if not for her. A lot 
of what I am I learned from her.”

Smith remained unmoved. “Is there any reason she’d turn on you? Think. It 
might be something you regard as insignificant but is important to her.”

Juna suddenly felt chilled. “We’ve had arguments over that project you 
mentioned. Normally she’s as much a visionary as me, but for some reason she’s 
been reluctant to embrace it. I just assumed she’d get over it. She knows 
everything I do is to improve this country and its people. She’s been on 
board with everything else. It was just a matter of time.”

Smith took the holder in his hand and sighed. “I’m afraid some people remain 
irrational when it comes to certain things. Disagreement is fine, even 
healthy from time to time, but outright betrayal to the cause, as well as 
those who have helped you attain what you have, is quite another.”

Juna could feel her insides shifting. It was obvious Smith was being 
manipulative, but she was being manipulated in the direction she was 
naturally gravitating toward. Perhaps he knew it too, and was simply 
reinforcing the thought. It depended on how shrewd he was. Given the 
position he held, it would probably be best to assume the latter in large 
quantities.

Seeing he had her attention, he continued. “Now I’ve discovered the location 
of the meeting. It’s possible your career might survive the release of this 
information. We both know there’s no chance it’ll be favorably received now, 
and it would be a major setback—“

“An unacceptable one!” Juna was seething. Damn the woman! How dare she 
betray everything they had worked towards. Ayako was… had been her closest 
confident and friend. But to ruin all the plans Japan needed to ensure it 
would be perpetuated under the proper guidance that only Juna could give? 
And Smith was right. The timing would be disastrous. The public hadn’t yet 
been enlightened to the necessity of it, though it was being encouraged in 
the right direction thanks to her and those like her in positions of power 
and influence. The events happening every day had to be cast in the proper 
light to be understood by the well-meaning, but all too linear thinking, 
people. Certain ideas that at one time might have worked no longer did, 
which meant it was time for change. Some people were reluctant to embrace 
change, clinging to antiquated notions and had to be guided by a strong hand 
for their own good. It wasn’t their fault their vision was limited and they 
needed people like her to rule.
Juna intensely disliked the concept that calling people sheep was 
derogatory. Leaders were shepherds, and shepherds looked out for their 
flocks. It was an apt comparison. One she would never be stupid enough to 
give voice to, of course. Much like her plan, people wouldn’t understand.

And now, one person threatened the future of all. “What can we do?”

“I have people in position to see to it you’ll never have to worry about an 
exchange of information taking place. However, I will do nothing without 
your permission. It’s up to you to decide how far you’re willing to go.”
So that was what it came down to. Did the ends justify the means, or did the 
means justify the end?

She shook her head. People whose lives revolved around pithy sayings 
deserved failure, and she was above such nonsense. To Smith, she said, 
“Traitors should never be angered at their fate when they are dealt with as 
such.”

Smith made the call.

xxxxx
Abe Kosaka, journalist extraordinaire (okay, no one actually called him 
that. It was mostly just curse words added to his name) entered the drinking 
establishment. It was a dingy place, but when the campaign manager of Japan’s 
fastest rising political star said they had a story for you, you’d show up 
at a PETA convention covered in animal pelts if that was what it took to 
meet them.

Luckily nothing so drastic was called for. In fact all she had asked for was 
a private place to meet. He had suggested the Harpooned Man. It was not the 
place the politically active hung out. Or even decent human beings for that 
matter. Most people didn’t call him one of those either, at least the ones 
he did stories on.

The bar was called that due to the prop designed to look like a human 
skeleton that was impaled to the wall via harpoon. Oh, the bartender who 
owned the establishment claimed it was real, and that he was there the night 
someone named Creed got into a disagreement with another guy who called 
himself Harpoon (naturally) and the fight escalated until Creed ran Harpoon 
through with one of his own harpoons (because someone named that just had to 
carry them) and pinned him to the wall. Creed then told the bartender to 
leave the body there. Which he did.

It was so absurd, but at least it made a good conversation piece.

Now it was time to wait. Juna’s campaign manager had the pedigree to go 
straight to the head of any media conglomerate for what she wanted to say. 
That she asked Abe privately, well that probably meant it was highly 
sensitive, and she was concerned about whatever she wanted to talk about 
being… sanitized. Or being buried outright.

Abe had never pulled any punches, which was why he had never moved beyond 
beat reporter. Higher ups always wanted someone who would play ball rather 
than being uncompromising. Or more appropriately being uncompromising toward 
the ‘right’ subject matter. In fact, his attitude rubbed some opinionated 
higher ups wrong. A couple of times said higher ups suggested it was time 
for Abe to retire, since he had been in the business for decades and was 
‘behind the times’ (as though human beings hadn’t always been human at any 
age). Abe responded by saying he could always freelance, and with his newly 
freed up time look into some company that was rumored to have questionable 
dealings with certain people in the media. He’d then name the company. Then 
the higher-up’s let the matter drop, though Abe never was considered for 
either promotion or anything but the most minimal of raises.

The most hilarious thing was they were convinced he knew everything and only 
hadn’t revealed it for leverage and job security. It was how they operated 
and they assumed everyone else was like that. Well, they did surround 
themselves with people like that. But it highlighted their inability to 
truly understand him. If he had anything worth publishing, he would have 
done it without hesitation. But all he had was rumor and innuendo. Sometimes 
that was enough to keep the dogs at bay.

Abe nodded at the bartender, who was not happy to see him. He knew Abe’s 
profession and viewed reporters in the same vein as snitches. But a number 
of Abe’s contacts and informants were of the shady variety, and liked the 
Harpooned Man since every kind of shady business was conducted there. So in 
order to be allowed into the bar, Abe had to give his word everything that 
happened there would be permanently off the record. He made the deal. As far 
as Abe was concerned, a reporter that couldn’t keep his word wasn’t one 
worth listening to.

He ordered a drink and waited for his contact to appear. She had sounded 
hesitant on the phone, and he only gave her half a chance of showing up. He 
was on his third glass of watered down swill (and considering how awful the 
drink was adding water made it taste less awful), when Ayako appeared. She 
was approaching middle age, a point he’d hit a decade ago. There was 
definitely a haunted look to her eyes. Years of interviews, that probably 
ran into the thousands now, had him peg it as her conscience drawing her 
here.

Ayako ordered hard liquor, then downed the drink in one gulp and ordered 
another. He wondered if the second would disappear as quickly as the first, 
but after one sip, she placed it down and became pensive. Being in no hurry, 
and knowing how best to deal with the matter, he waited for her to initiate 
the conversation.

Finally she spoke. “This isn’t easy for me.” Perhaps she waited for a 
response, but Abe said nothing. She had come because she had to, not because 
she wanted to. A wrong word might silence her: a perceived slight drive her 
away altogether. Any excuse could be jumped upon considering the shape she 
was in.

Eventually the silence gave way again. “Juna’s a true visionary. She really 
does want to help everyone. She has a brilliant mind and is one of the most 
observant people I know. She has the pulse of the people. She’s a once in a 
lifetime leader.”

Abe wondered if she was one of those campaign managers that had no off 
button and gave their sales pitch to anyone that came into her line of 
sight, or if she was drinking the Kool Aid by the pitcher. Once in a 
lifetime? He’d heard Juna speak. Self-important elitists were not an 
endangered species. He considered himself lucky if he met less than a 
handful in the span of a day. The only special thing about the councilwoman 
was she was more charismatic than most.

Then again, he never understood how people could get excited over 
politicians in the first place. It was like getting excited over fast food. 
You ate it out of necessity because you were hungry and the alternative was 
worse, not because it tasted great.

Politicians were the fast food of humanity.

Again Ayako continued. “But now she’s fixated on this plan that’s wrong on 
every level. It’s the exact opposite of what we stand for. For god’s sake, 
it’s like something the Genoshans would come up with! She keeps saying it’s 
not the same thing, uses different terminology, but it all boils down to the 
same thing.” She took another sip, then said in a quieter voice. “My nephew 
has an Alice. He shouldn’t… no one should be subjected to what she has 
planned.”

Abe felt his heart race. This was going to be big. Ayako, despite her 
contention, was rebelling for personal reasons, but if the reason was bad 
enough she’d turn on her own boss, the public’s reaction would be several 
magnitudes worse. And if it involved Genoshan-like plans and super powers, 
he might get a Pulitzer this time around.

He couldn’t wait for her to get to the specifics.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxx
A cowboy, a dapper man, a sea captain, a ship’s first mate, a guy dressed 
like he was from out of the 20’s, and a guy that was as built as a gorilla 
were sitting at a table in a bar.
And it wasn’t the beginning of a joke.

“I heard the Hood’s dead.”

“No kidding?”

“Fished his body out of the Hudson. Been there a while. Bullet to the back 
of the head.”

“Ah thought that hood of his was magic and bulletproof.”

“Maybe someone used a magic bullet?”

There were several moments of silence.

“You know, he was a real jerk.”

“Yeah, he made everyone join his ‘army’ or he’d kill you. Then he’d threaten 
to kill you if you didn’t do what he wanted. Or if you failed him. Or if you 
talked back.”

“Indeed. What sort of boss treats you worse than your foes? They never go 
about killing you, except for the occasional accident.”

“Yes, like Firestar killing Piranha Jones. How was she to know the 
experimental radioactive isotopes he was carrying would react that way to 
her radiation blasts? He could just as easily have turned into an actual 
piranha man instead of dying in a radioactive flash.”

“Gyar. You shouldn’t go playing with experimental radioactive isotopes 
anyway, unless you have radiation based powers, like Radioactive Man.”

“Or y’all can absorb energy, like that Sapper fellow.”

“Who’s that?”

“Operates out of Seattle with that guy with the sword hand. Don’t remember 
his name.”

“Oh yeah, I heard about them. Not many heroes to deal with in Seattle. But 
then you’d have to relocate to Seattle to operate out of there.”

“I don’t like the Seahawks or their fans.”

“Exactly my point. In any case, I say the Hood was a jerk and I’m happy he’s 
dead. Here’s a toast to whoever whacked him.”

All six men drained their glasses and ordered another round.

“You know what else I hate? That song, ‘Just Somebody That I Used to Know.’ 
I can’t feel any sympathy for the central character since, by his own 
admission, he’s glad the relationship’s over. Then he gets all worked up 
because his ex has the audacity to leave him in the past and move on. That’s 
nothing more than hurt pride. I was glad for my ex-wife when she moved on 
and got remarried.”

“Didn’t know you used to be married there, Pinstripe”

“I confess a certain reluctance in talking about it.”

“Gyar, three ex-wives. Lucky for me I don’t have regular, I mean legal, 
employment and have to pay alimony.”

“Well, you are a professional criminal. I’d say even if you did, skipping 
alimony payments is part of your career.”

That made the sextet laugh.

“Hey, check out the babe that just came in.”

“Gyar, I wouldn’t mind her cleaning my bilge pumps.”

“But that’s my job, Cap’n Skragg.”

“Sexual innuendo, Onionhead. Not literal.”

“Oh. So I can still clean out the bilge pumps?”

“Always.”

The largest of the sextet rose and interposed himself between the woman and 
her path to the bar. “Hey there, babe. Want to party with us? We’re 
important guys back in the States. I’m Joe the Gorilla. That there’s Cap’n 
Skragg.” He pointed to the man wearing a sea captain’s hat. “The fellow in 
the wool knit cap is Onionhead. The guy in the duster and chaps is Pecos. 
The guy in the pinstripe suit is Pinstripe. And--”

“--And I’m Sweet William. Named after a flower, which I am as gentle as.” He 
rose, bowed, and then smiled at the girl.

Joe was a bit annoyed at being interrupted. “Anyway, we’re known as the 
Split Second Squad.”

The girl considered that. “I’m not sure that’s something to brag about.” And 
continued on her way.

That left Joe beyond surprised. It transcended mere astonishment. He went 
full tilt into flabbergasted.

But men of violence rarely stayed that way, since violence was sort of the 
go-to thing to reorient themselves. “Why I’ll—, “ Joe was prevented from 
going after the girl when Pecos laid a firm hand on his shoulder.

“We’re heah on business, Joe, and business always comes first.”

“Yeah.” He sat down and went for simmering with accumulating violence 
underneath a thin veneer.

It was at that moment Cap’n Skragg’s phone rang. He answered it, then hung 
up and rose to his feet. “We’re on.”

The Squad rose from their chairs and approached the woman whose picture they 
had been shown. And since she was with a man, he would be taken care of as 
well.

xxxxx
Abe became aware of their table being surrounded by a number foreigners, all 
of them with very intense looks directed at them. He was old enough, and had 
been in enough tight situations, to tell bodily harm was imminent. And his 
old bones didn’t heal the way they used to. Actually, judging by the looks 
of the men, administering internal organ failure might be at the top of 
their list.

Ayako asked them what they wanted, but Abe already knew the situation had 
gone totally south. He gave an imploring look at the bartender, who shook 
his head. Great. The Harpooned Man’s policy of, ‘None of my damn business,’ 
was in full effect. At least he had positive confirmation this story was 
big. Perhaps fatally so.

But the best ones always were.

Just as the fellow in the pinstripe suit placed a hand on Abe’s shoulder, 
someone tapped his. A very attractive hooker, especially for this 
establishment.

“Excuse me. I wanted to test something,” she said.

The man got off a, “Not now,” a moment before her fist met his jaw and he 
collapsed to the floor.

“You only last a split second, all right.” Kasumi Tendou confirmed.

xxxxxxxxx
“Pinstripe!” Pecos’s surprise at the unusually violent hooker only lasted a 
moment as he went to lay her out. She might have gotten the drop on his 
partner, but she was just some cowpoke who got lucky. He wouldn’t even need 
his gun.

He swung, only to have her dodge slightly to the right, then spin in a 
circle and unleash a thrust kick into his gut, doubling him over. A knee to 
the jaw finished him off.

“I do so detest violence,” Sweet William bemoaned as he pulled out a gun and 
aimed it at Kasumi.

“No firearms!” The bartender ducked behind the bar, which was so heavily 
reinforced it could (and had) take a stream of .50 caliber bullets fired at 
it. He hoped this guy was using a low caliber. Some spackle could fill in 
the holes. Larger ones would destroy wood paneling, and that always took 
time and cost a lot.

The sight of the firearm caused all the patrons to flee in a panic. But 
before Sweet William could pull the trigger, a piece of furniture slammed 
into him with the force of a relatively heavy wooden chair thrown by someone 
at peak human strength for his age. When the laws of gravity, force, and 
inertia were applied to the equation the result was: one unconscious human.

Ranma struck an intimidating pose as he pointed at Gorilla Joe. “All right, 
pal. You and the rest of the Village People need to settle it down.”

“I hate their music!” And Joe lunged for Ranma.

Ranma swung at him, but despite his size, Joe moved well enough to only 
receive a glancing blow. He proved he could do more than evade a punch as he 
maneuvered behind Ranma and wrapped him up in a bear hug, pinning both arms 
and lifting Ranma off the ground. “No one gets out of Gorilla Joe’s Killer 
Grip!”

Ranma found it difficult to breathe. This wasn’t good. His foe had all the 
leverage and was even stronger than he looked. And he did look gorilla sized 
in the chest and arms. He probably could kill people with this grip, as well 
as his breath. Up this close, Ranma had gotten a whiff of it and it was 
lethal. He’d have said it to Joe but oxygen had to be consumed for things 
like talking, and he didn’t really have any to spare.

But this was Ranma and he couldn’t help himself. “Breath mints,” he gasped, 
and was about to flex his chest to see if he could outmuscle his opponent 
when the grip faltered and Joe hit the ground. Ranma turned and saw Kasumi 
had dispatched his foe.

He was about to reassure her he didn’t need any help when she released a 
stunned, “Ranma.”

Shoot. She had somehow pierced his disguise. She was more perceptive than he 
had given her credit for. Further conversation was cut off as the two 
remaining members of the Split Second Squad confronted the duo, belaying 
pins in hand.

Ranma said, “I can handle the Skipper. You take Gilligan.” But to his 
annoyance, even as he said it, she went after both men.

She deflected Onionhead’s pin and used her other arm to catch Cap’n Skragg’s 
wrist as he tried to swing at her. She followed up with a palm strike that 
sent him flying much farther than it should have. Ranma could have sworn he 
saw a flash of light as she connected with his jaw, but wrote it off as an 
optical illusion in the heat of battle. It wasn’t like the lighting in here 
was worth a damn anyway.

Ranma ended the fight with a simple two hit combo on Onionhead. Seeing none 
of the participants were going to be vertical any time soon, he thought 
about the matter and became deeply concerned about what had happened.

How had Kasumi gotten four to his two? It defied rational explanation. The 
only good thing was he had figured out what was really going on thanks to 
Kasumi’s behavior. But it had been inevitable. Once Ranma Saotome was on the 
job, no mystery went unsolved.

xxxxxxxxx
Once the euphoria of the fight was over, Kasumi felt panic return. Ranma had 
followed her in disguise. He had known something was wrong and was 
suspicious of her. In hindsight, it was obvious. How could she have been so 
blind?

As if reading her mind, Ranma said, “Okay, Kasumi. The jig is up. I know 
what you’ve been doing evenings, and why you’re doing it. Really, how long 
did you think you could get away with it without someone noticing?
Kasumi felt her heart leap into her throat. She should have known. She had 
gone from mild-mannered housekeeper to kickass superhero and thought no one 
would put two and two together? Especially when she had added a ‘sting’ to 
the shot to the Captain’s jaw. How naïve she had been. Now her dual life was 
blown. Ranma knew she was a superhero. All that was left was the pleading at 
keeping it a secret.

‘Ranma, I—“

“Don’t bother explaining. I get it. Nabiki’s disgracing the Tendou School of 
Anything Goes by only using it for money. And as the eldest child, you 
couldn’t live with the disgrace and practiced it in secret until you 
mastered it. Now you use your martial arts to help the weak and helpless as 
a form of redemption.”

She stared at him in shock. How on Earth had he come to that conclusion? 
Wasn’t her becoming a superhero more reasonable? Then again, it was better 
than anything she could come up with. “Um, yes. That’s exactly it. You 
figured it out. You’re so unbelievably… perceptive, Ranma. Nothing gets past 
you.”

“You got that right.”

Ranma placed his hands on her shoulders and looked her in the eye. Kasumi 
actually trembled a bit since he was, well, quite masculine. And he had 
never been so physically familiar with her. There was her adrenaline high 
still affecting her. And she was dressed very risqué. And he was dressed 
very tacky, which did off set it a bit. Still, this was somewhat unfamiliar 
territory for her.

She suddenly discovered Ranma was extremely alluring.

He said, “I know better than to talk someone out of restoring family honor. 
But you got to do this sort of thing in safer places. These guys had guns. 
Go after smaller fish. Stick with pickpockets and molesters, like the butt 
pinchers on trains and stuff. These guys could have killed you.”

Now she was annoyed, which finally countered her initial response. She had 
helped save Japan, the entire world, on a number of occasions, but since 
explaining she was probably a hundred times more capable of handling herself 
than Ranma, or just stinging him, would be counter-productive, she verbally 
agreed.

“And we’ll keep it between the two of us. Nabiki was worried about you so I’ll 
make up some other story so you can keep redeeming the family name and 
whatnot.”

That was more than she dared hope. He would actually run cover for her and 
she could go out and have fun. Of course she had no intention of only 
stopping to pick such low hanging fruit. It was career criminals for her, 
the more dangerous, the better. But Ranma meant well. He was definitely a 
very nice guy. On impulse she hugged him.

Ranma froze when Kasumi hugged him. Mostly because it had caught him 
off-guard, but also because she wasn’t wearing much, and he could feel her 
womanly attributes press against his body. He discovered certain parts of 
his anatomy reacted with a speed that put his super soldier serum reflexes 
to shame. He hoped Kasumi assumed he kept a large roll of coins in his 
pocket or he’d get hit with a ‘pervert’ faster than he could blink.
Luckily, she broke it off before she noticed anything. At least that was 
what he assumed since she didn’t accuse him of being a pervert. Though she 
was giving him one heck of a smile.

“Let’s get out of here.” Besides, he needed time to come up with a story 
Nabiki would believe.

Then again, he was as imaginative as he was a master of disguise. It would 
be easy.

xxxxx
Earlier:

The moment the fight broke out, Ayako ran for it. Male pride made Abe hang 
back as concern for the young lady of the night interceding on his behalf 
made him want to reciprocate. Then his higher functions kicked in as the 
most he could do would be damaging one of the thugs knuckles with his face.

He saw Ayako dart toward the back, since the action was between them and the 
entryway. Abe fell behind as other panicked people evacuated the bar, 
getting between them until he lost sight of her. He followed a number of 
people out a back exit and into the area behind the bar.

He caught sight of Ayako when she suddenly fell to the ground. No one 
bothered to check on her, opting to run around her prone form and head to 
safety. As Abe got to her side, he saw she wasn’t moving. He turned her 
over, and the sight caused even him to gasp.

There was a shuriken buried in her throat. Blood had already pooled beneath 
her, and her eyes looked upward to the sky, unblinking.

He let go of her body and continued running off, like all the other patrons 
and staff. The story wasn’t going to die with Ayako. Oh no. He was getting 
to the bottom of it no matter what.

The biggest stories always had a few bodies in them. It was a reporter’s 
responsibility to not become one of them.

xxxxxxxxx
“Let me get this straight.” Nabiki looked Ranma right in the eye. “You’re 
saying my sister is into Live Action Role Playing with a group of people 
pretending to be superheroes and villains. And she turned up with a black 
eye because someone inadvertently hit her with a prop?”

“Yeah. She’s a Thor fangirl, of all things. Who would have guessed?”

Now Nabiki gave him a suspicious stare. “That sounds totally made up.”

“Okay. I confess. She really dresses up like a hooker, goes to seedy bars, 
and beats up people that come on to her for kicks.”

Two seconds of silence were followed by side-splitting laughter. “Point 
taken. I guess I was being incredulous there.”

Ranma gave an inward sigh. No one ever believed him when he told the truth, 
which was why he had used it. “Anyway, she’d be really embarrassed if anyone 
found out.”
“I’ll say. That LARP stuff is for geeks. Never had sis figured for one. I 
thought she was more book club or knitting circle material. Ah well. You’ve 
put my mind at ease, Saotome, Thanks. I don’t owe you anything, of course.”
“Of course.” Now that things with Nabiki had been settled, he reviewed the 
events of the night. To his surprise, he realized he now looked upon Kasumi 
in a new light. She had gone from ‘just there’ to interesting, and had far 
more depth than he realized. For the first time he felt an actual bond with 
her since they had shared an experience together, one that was just between 
the two of them, and quite enjoyable.

And he was also discovering that regular and naked Kasumi were now joined by 
hooker Kasumi when he envisioned her. He really needed a cold bath. Maybe as 
a girl he’d clear his head. At the very least the body parts reacting to her 
would be gone and that would surely calm him.

xxxxxxxx
John Smith was irritated. Not as badly as he could have been, but he had 
anticipated a happy outcome. Typically, the Split Second Squad could handle 
a simple ‘disappearance’ job, since they had done so before. And he had 
hired that Taiwanese assassin, Razorblade, as backup despite her costing 
four times as much as the entire Squad. But this had been very important to 
the plans and worth the investment. Clearly the Squad was losing its touch 
if two random strangers could take them out. At least Slasher had eliminated 
the primary target. But since she had been outside she had no idea events 
had picked up a secondary one and inadvertently let him go. Did the man 
Ayako had been talking to learn anything? The Squad had their eye on her 
from the moment she’d entered the bar, and claimed she hadn’t the time to 
tell him much of anything. But if he were dead, there was nothing to worry 
about.

Unfortunately, an ‘older Japanese guy’ was not much to go on. This was Juna’s 
home turf, and she had the most to lose if the story leaked out, so she’d 
already swore to move heaven and earth to track the man down. Smith assured 
her if she needed help to conclude the matter, she could ask. He’d probably 
stick with Razorblade, though. The Squad was in the doghouse until they 
could prove their worth again.
Now it was time to get back to the States. There were plans there that 
needed his oversight, and miles to go before everything would be in place.
But he would do what it took to get the job done.

xxxxxxxxxxxx
Limbo:

Kang looked over the information a third time. The anomaly was indeed gone. 
For the moment, time was as it should be. But it had to be monitored 
constantly. It shifted so. It was like trying to calculate a single wind 
during a typhoon, at times.

There was more good news as he was more convinced than ever that, if the 
Avengers could be lured to Limbo, they could be killed here with no 
repercussions. But to challenge them directly, alone, would be akin to 
folly. Allies would be needed, but special ones. A legion. Drawn from time 
and manipulated in such a manner that they would be beholden to Kang, for 
mind control was not in his inventory of weapons.
Perhaps plucked from time a moment from their actual deaths? Threatened to 
be sent back should they fail? A Legion that was almost dead, residing in 
timeless limbo where death was enigmatic.
A Legion of the Unliving.

Yes, the seeds of a plan took root. Perhaps, at last, the Incident itself 
could be stopped.

Time was wasting.
xxxxxxxxxxxxx
End chapter:

I’ve gotten the writing bug back. Hopefully it stays for a while. And they’ll 
be more Avengers. 
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