"A Friend in Need"
Part One: "Dirty Little Secret"
by
Aaron Storck
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The Forte Museum Grav sat quietly staring into the cup of coffee in his hands. Except for the three people in the Curator's office, the Museum was empty. It would be closed until the morning of the 26th, just over a day from now. Dyna Girl had a sinking feeling that unless someone spoke up, the three of them might just be there until then. "You should have let UNCLE prosecute," Grav muttered. "At least then it would all be brought to light." Both Dyna Girl and her father looked over at their friend, waiting for him to continue. He looked up at the father and daughter with a strange, helpless smile. "The thing is... I'm dying." "What?? That's impossible..." Holly said, stunned, nearly shouting. "Dying?" the barrel-chested Texas native asked in his slow deliberate soft-spoken drawl. Wally Wood took a deep breath and leaned forward. "What are you talking about, son? And what does this have to do with you breaking in to NRG Labs last night?" "It's a long story," Grav confessed. "I'm not sure where to begin." "Maybe you should start at the beginning," the older man suggested. Holly took a seat next to her father as Grav set down his coffee and leaned forward. He began to speak. "Let me tell you about Miguel Garcia..."
Olympic Auditorium "Let 'em fly Miguel!" "He's tired, kid!" The crowd surged forward as Miguel Garcia circled his opponent carefully, watching for an opening. He threw a jab every now and again to see how quickly Hernandez could get his gloves up to block the shot. He IS tired, Miguel thought as his last punch was barely blocked. Now! Quickly, Garcia fired off two swift jabs. He too was tired, but this was the final round and he only had a few seconds before the bell sounded. His opponent, Javier Hernandez, was letting his gloves drop. He blocked the two jabs but moved too slowly to counter-punch, instead leaving himself open to Miguel's blinding right cross. That blow, which connected just after the bell rang, sent Hernandez spiraling back into the ropes, blood seeping from his mouth. The crowd in the auditorium roared as Miguel held his gloved hands aloft in victory. After a few moments, Miguel crossed the ring to Hernandez' corner and touched him on the shoulder. "Good fight," he said to Hernandez and his cornermen. The referee beckoned both young fighters to his side at the center of the ring. Each man took a place on either side of the official, who in turn raised one glove of each boxer aloft. The crowd politely applauded each of the amateur contestants while the ring announcer climbed in through the ropes. "Ladies and gentlemen, THIS is what amateur boxing is all about," the older man in the black suit proclaimed as he collected the scorecards from the referee. "I've been involved with Los Angeles County amateur boxing for nearly forty years, and this is without a doubt one of the finest bouts I have ever seen. Let's give both fighters another hand!" The crowd responded with applause and whistles for a couple of seconds and then quieted. The referee still held both fighters hands aloft and would do so until the winner was declared. "As you know, in Golden Gloves competition there is no draw allowed and our three judges HAVE selected a winner." The ring announcer consulted the scorecards and then looked back up at the crowd. "Ladies and gentlemen, after three rounds of boxing, the winner by decision and the new Golden Gloves champion is... Javier 'Hammer' Hernandez!" The referee dropped Miguel's hand and continued to hold Hernandez' high. The young fighter raised his other glove in victory and smiled at the crowd with blood still oozing from the corner of his mouth. Several in the crowd cheered enthusiastically, mainly those from Hernandez' circle of friends and family. The majority, however, either clapped politely or outright booed the decision. Miguel politely congratulated the new champion and went off to his corner where his team proceeded to tell him that the decision was a sham. As he climbed out of the ring and passed several of the audience on his way to the locker room, a number of them stood up clapped him on the shoulder or told him that he was the real winner. Miguel politely smiled, said 'Thank you,' and continued toward the showers. He swung the door to the locker room open as the bell sounded for the next fight to be announced.
"So you lost a fight," Holly said, interrupting her friend's story. "I don't understand what that has to do with you dying." Grav smiled and shook his head. "That fight was the turning point. The catalyst for the rest of... well... everything. "It was after the fight that he showed up..."
"I think you were robbed in there." Miguel Garcia turned toward the sound of the voice and saw a tall, distinguished-looking black man, who, Miguel noted, was dressed a little too sharply for a regional East L.A. boxing event. Maybe he's a promoter, he thought, noticing the big-knuckled, beefy fellow in a suit standing next to the rented Town Car. "T'at seems to bee the h'opinion, man" Miguel answered in his Spanish-accented English. "I also think you didn't go on the offensive quickly enough," the man observed. "And you are too gracious a loser." "What's th' point in arguing. It wouldn'a changed th' decision." "You would have MADE them love you. 'The fiery boxer who was robbed.' The CROWD felt as cheated because YOU were cheated. You might even have gotten away with a cheap shot after the decision. They would have been talking about you for weeks. "As it is now, they won't even remember your name tomorrow." "Wha' do chu know about boxing?" "I know about winning, and what it takes to win." The man paused and looked hard into Miguel's eyes, "Are YOU a winner, Miguel?" "Who are chu, man? Are chu a promoter? A trainer?" The distinguished man smiled slightly, "In a sense, I suppose." "What do chu wan', man? 'Chu wan' to promote me?" Miguel asked, growing impatient. "I can make you a very popular and powerful man, Miguel Garcia. If you're smart, that can make you a rich man as well. But I am not going to waste my time, money and resources on someone that will not realize his fullest potential. So I will ask you one last time: Are you a winner?" Miguel returned the man's steely gaze with one of his own. "I won tha' fight. T'ose peeple," he said, pointing back at the auditorium with a snarl on his face, "took away my chance t' bee s'mebody an' make a name for myself. "No 'on es ever gon' to take wha's mine, again." Miguel stuck his hand forward toward the stranger. "I ham a winner, an' I'll bee a winner for chu." The stranger regarded the look on Miguel Garcia's face. The dossier that his people provided went into tremendous detail about the young man's past: broken home, father leaving, brother killed in gang activity, mother and two sisters in a rented East L.A. home. The report also discussed the impressive, but unmolded, intellect, as well as the natural and conditioned physical characteristics of the young fighter. All of this he knew forward and backward, and it was these details which helped narrow down the decision to approach Garcia. And why he had arranged for Miguel Garcia to lose the fight. He had wanted to look into Garcia's eyes and see what kind of a man that he was. That's why he made the trip all the way from Seattle to watch a local L.A. kid box in a meaningless tournament. Looking into those eyes, he saw what all of the reports and files could never tell him: the man would fight for him and his company, and more importantly, given the proper conditioning, he would be LOYAL. The stranger took the offered hand and shook it firmly. "Very well, Miguel. I'll take a chance on you." "You won' regret it, Meester ... um... I didn' get chour name." "Ravenscroft. Professor Maxwell Ravenscroft." ----------------- "The next day, Ravenscroft showed up in a car and explained to the Garcia family that while their beloved Miguel was in Seattle training with him, the family would be taken care of. And to Max's credit," Grav added, "he kept his word…about everything. Money was provided, and the family could finally afford to move out of that war zone they called a neighborhood. Elena even received a grant from the Calantha Ravenscroft Foundation for her college tuition." "It sounds like Professor Ravenscroft lived up to his end of the bargain then," Electro Man observed. "He did," Grav admitted, pausing to take a sip of his lukewarm coffee. "But one thing you learn quickly about Maxwell Ravenscroft is that any bargain with him comes with strings attached..."
NRG Labs "Professor, I have serious reservations. Will you please reconsider before it's too late?" Dr. Mark Kellerman waved a sheaf of paper in front of his employer. "These latest test results are only confirm what I've suspected all along: the human body cannot endure this kind of rapid genetic evolution and manipulation in such a late stage of development... if AT ALL." "Mark, I think you are overstating the results," Ravenscroft said, turning on the charm as he leaned forward at his desk. "I believe the results to be... inconclusive." He stood and walked around his desk where he took a seat on the edge of it. He smiled and took the stack of paper from his researcher, setting it down on the desk. "Look, Mark, we know from your own work with Shockwaive, Riptide and Triphammer that the human body is capable of some AMAZING abilities." "It's different, Max, and you know it. Beth and Neil were both apparently born with their abilities which just happened to manifest themselves in their late teens." "And Triphammer?" Max asked. "He wasn't born with his abilities." "No. But, Michael's body underwent a catastrophic change in a very short period of time. And that's what I'm talking about here. Time. We are taking too much time in administering the process and it's burning Miguel out!" Mark Kellerman threw his hands forward in frustration. "Maybe if we had started on a much younger person, we could have taken advantage of the natural growth and maturation process. As it is, I'm afraid that his body is just finished maturing and all we are doing now is accelerating his trip to the grave." "Obviously a younger subject WOULD have been preferable. I knew that from the start. But the legal and, of course, ETHICAL issues would have killed the project from the very beginning." Ravenscroft shook his head, "No, as long as I am the head of this lab, NRG will not cross those ethical boundaries. You have my word on it." "Of course..." Kellerman muttered, his voice trailing off. Ravenscroft stood up and put his hand on Kellerman's shoulder. "Mark, I think you are maybe a little too close to this project. Perhaps you should focus on the training and further development of Triphammer, Shockwaive, and Riptide. "I've been very impressed with all of your work there," the head of NRG added with a smile, once again turning on the charm. "You're kicking me off the project??" "Mark, really, you're overreacting..." "Forget it, Max. Just... forget it. Look, I've turned a blind eye to a lot of things going on here, but this is the last straw. This genetic-enhancement process you've developed has a STINK about it. "I've seen things, Max. Things like old research notes translated from German...and they look to be about forty or fifty years old, Max...you do the math! I've seen military memoranda dating back to the late sixties. There are classified documents that mention CANON. CANON, Max?? They're terrorists, for God's sake! And I'm not going to ask where you got S.H.I.E.L.D. research data from! "I turned a blind eye, Professor, because I thought that we were going to do something to benefit humanity," Kellerman admitted. "But I will NOT stand by any longer and watch you slowly murder an innocent human being, especially after you've been confronted with the facts that your research is a FAILURE!" Ravenscroft's genial expression turned grave. "Doctor, calm down and please lower your voice." "I quit, Max. I don't want any further part of this." "I accept your resignation, Doctor Kellerman. I will remind you, however, that you have signed a non-disclosure agreement with NRG. I would hate to bring any...LEGAL action...against you if you were to violate the NDA." "It's not the legal action I'm worried about, Professor, it's the ILLEGAL action. I know what kind of businessman you are, Max, which is why I want you to consider this: I have copies of the documentation I mentioned in a secure location with instructions to release them to the proper authorities in the event of any 'accidents' that might befall me. I'm sure that UNCLE would be very interested to find out how you got your hands on classified material from CANON...not to mention S.H.I.E.L.D. "I'll keep your secrets Max," Dr. Kellerman said, turning to walk out the door, " ... for as long as I live."
"Wait a minute, I'm confused," Holly admitted. "I thought Ravenscroft just helped release your powers. Are you saying that he created your powers?" "He did a lot more than that, guapa," Grav said, correcting his friend.
NRG Labs "I blew it out 'dere." "Nonsense, Grav," Ravenscroft assured the young hero. "If Forte hadn't shown up to get in the way, I'm sure you would have handled Proterra just fine. Besides, it seems that the attack was orchestrated by a handful of Forte's old enemies to lure them out into the open. We just got caught in the crossfire. “Unfortunately, the DuMont facility suffered quite a bit of damage. Couldn’t be helped, I suppose. Nonetheless, your job was to protect the plant. In the future, please pay more attention to the ‘protection’ aspect of the job and less to the ‘fighting,’ if it’s possible. “And one other thing,” Ravenscroft added, “the whole business of you getting thrown into jail along with the criminals. That is unacceptable! It was a minor embarrassment having to send the legal team down to UNCLE to straighten everything out.” “But I wa’ sunconscious...” “After you threatened Forte with incarceration and legal action, according to witnesses,” Ravenscroft stated, correcting the super-powered Latino. “As much as I dislike the idea of those individuals with their tremendous powers running around unchecked and unsupervised, I have resigned myself to the fact that they are beloved in this city. And, for the time being, there is nothing we can do about it. So in the meantime, try to get along with them and ‘play nice,’ won’t you?” "Still," the NRG head continued, "you did a nice job aiding Forte. The data we gathered from your uniform's onboard sensors indicates that you are getting more comfortable with your abilities. You seemed to have very little problem handling... um," he referred to some papers on his clipboard, "... Sonica." "It was still tough out 'dere, man," Grav admitted. "It's a lot faster in real life t'an in th' training." "Yes, I'm sure it was," the scientist said absently as he continued to review the data in front of him. "How are you feeling now, Grav?” “I’m fine, a little tired...and a bit of a headache.” “Go down to the infirmary and have Doctor Nidheesh give you an examination. We’ll talk later,” Ravenscroft promised. “Okay, I’ll.... ARRRRRRRRGH!!!” Miguel Garcia was unable to complete his sentence as he doubled over in pain and began clutching his head. Professor Ravenscroft dashed over to a phone on the wall and immediately dialed the infirmary, “Nidheesh, get a stretcher and a trauma team to the conference room! Grav is having an attack of some kind!” He replaced the telephone and turned to run over to the failing man’s side. Just as he was about to take his first step, the scientist was flung back against the wall and pinned there. Grav’s power was increasing and Ravenscroft began to feel the effects immediately as it grew harder for him to breathe. He was sure that his body was now feeling the pressure of three or four ‘gees’. And the force was increasing slowly. Dark spots danced in front of the scientist’s eyes and he realized that he was on the verge of passing out. He continued to hear the wet, guttural grunting of the super-powered man on the floor. It was a sickening choking sound punctuated by the occasional loud moan. “Sedate him,” a voice ordered beyond Ravenscroft’s darkening vision. Moments later, Maxwell Ravenscroft fell from the wall he was pinned to and onto his knees, gasping for air. His vision began to clear and he looked up to see Doctor Nidheesh and his team attending to Grav. One of the team rushed over to his employer’s side and helped him sit back against the wall. “Are you all right, Professor Ravenscroft?” the medic asked as he began his examination. “I’m…fine…” the man replied, gulping air. He looked up at Nidheesh, who had his back turned to Ravenscroft and was blocking his view of the incapacitated body on the floor. “Doctor, how’s...?” The doctor turned at the sound of Ravenscroft’s voice and anticipated his question. “Grav is dead, Professor.”
It was Wally’s turn to be confused. “What do you mean ‘dead?’ I’m not sure I follow you.” “Please, Miguelito, you need to tell us what’s going on here,” Dyna Girl pleaded with her friend. “We want to help you but...” Grav interrupted his former teammate. “Holly. Señor Wood. Please let me finish. You will understand very soon, I promise. “Now, Ravenscroft had to move quickly,” Grav continued his narrative. “He paid off Doctor Nidheesh and his team, swearing them to secrecy. El Profesor Científico had to make sure that no one knew what had transpired...”
NRG Labs - Site Echo Maxwell Ravenscroft continued to review the data on the computer screen in front of him, only glancing up occasionally to inspect the progress of his team in the medical bay below. Cellular, bio-chemical, nervous, and brain activity all optimal, the scientist observed once again on the reports in front of him. He had gone over this material dozens of times. Unfortunately, due to the circumstances, there would only be one opportunity for success. But what a success, Ravenscroft allowed himself to ponder a moment. A moment later he then was forced to admit that it would be a success he could never tell anyone about. “Professor? The woman is here,” a voice spoke over the intercom to his left. It was the agent in charge of Echo’s security forces. “You know the procedure we discussed,” Ravenscroft replied over the intercom. “If she doesn’t comply fully, you and your men are to use deadly force IMMEDIATELY. Is that understood?” “Yes, Professor.” “When she is ready, bring her to the medical theater.” The scientist keyed a microphone that forwarded his voice to the large white room that his observation area overlooked. “Ladies and gentlemen, for your own safety, please complete your preparations and vacate the theater. Sergeant McCord and his medic will escort you to the safe room. There you will take the necessary precautions that were outlined for you. Please move quickly. “And thank you all for your hard work.” Ravenscroft said, allowing himself to be magnanimous for the moment. He watched as his medical staff filed out of the room. He looked over his shoulder at the ACE Security medic standing at the ready behind him. Ravenscroft knew that the measures he had devised were necessary, but he still found them loathsome nonetheless. Touching the control that polarized the observation room’s window to match the walls of the medical theater, Ravenscroft then opened the rectangular flat box in front of him. Minutes later, a woman wearing a pair of jeans and a light coat was escorted by elite ACE Security agents into the large white operating room. Around her neck was a collar that had a flashing green LED indicating that it was operational. In front of her on an operating table was an unconscious Latino man in his early 20’s. Next to him was a portable tape player with a set of headphones. “Play the tape, please,” the security agent said politely, but firmly. The woman placed the headphones on her ears and started the tape. Ravenscroft’s calm, cultured voice began speaking immediately. “Hello Mindwarp. If you are playing this tape then you have accepted my offer. Let me start by reviewing what is expected of you, and what you can expect from me in return. “You have received a dossier detailing the life of one Miguel Garcia. It was a comprehensive file, complete with video and audio media, as well as hundreds of pages of personal details. You were paid a large sum of money as a deposit for your services and instructed to commit this file to memory. Having done so, you have been brought to this facility to complete the services for which you were commissioned. “You are to feed the knowledge that you have learned about Miguel Garcia into the sedated body before you. His mind is a blank slate. You are to mold that mind with the life experiences in that file, and you are to do it in such a way that these will become very real memories for him. For completing this service you will receive the balance of your five hundred thousand dollars in cash as specified in our verbal contract once the quality of the work has been verified. “To protect the lives and privacy of myself and my staff, you have been fitted with a collar containing an explosive device. Each of my security forces has been issued a trigger device. Only a few of these will trigger the collar. They have been distributed at random and none of the security team is aware of which ones will work. My men have instructions to trigger their switches and then open fire on you should you show signs of violence toward the people in this facility. “Lastly, myself and the senior members of my staff have been injected with a psychotropic compound. This is to prevent you from gleaning anything useful, such as bank account numbers, passwords, or operational knowledge of this or any other of my facilities, from the minds of my staff or myself. “Once you have completed your task, you will be escorted back to the helicopter pad. You will be in the air about three hours, during which time we will verify the work you have done. At which point, the pilot will be radioed and given your final destination. There, if you have done as asked, you will receive instructions on how to collect your money. “Time is short. Please begin.” Mindwarp took off the headphones and allowed herself a smile. This guy knows how to cover his bases, she thought as she proceeded to build the life of one Miguel Garcia of Los Angeles, California into the sleeping body before her.
The Forte Museum “... and when I woke up, Professor Ravenscroft and some doctors were looking me over, asking me questions about who I was and what I remembered. I knew nothing about being Grav. They had to tell me about that and about my powers. I spent the next several months training to use my abilities. “Ravenscroft told the rest of Armor Security that I had suffered some kind of seizure and was being cared for in a special facility. NRG circulated that cover story in case anyone asked around. Outside of my family, no one really bothered to ask mostly because I was pretty new at this. “The last thing I could recall clearly was meeting Professor Ravenscroft the night of the fight,” Grav admitted. “How do you know all this, son?” Wally asked. “About a month ago, we were hired to provide security for a big gala in New York. Lots of people there with lots of money. Mindwarp showed up with the intension of lifting whatever she could out of the minds of the attendees. When we confronted her she must have recognized me and put two and two together. She hit me with the memory of that day in the Echo facility. I guess it was her idea of revenge. “I started snooping around after that and I put the rest together on my own,” Grav said. “So... wait... are you saying that... you’re... I mean... you’re not really...” Holly stumbled trying to piece together this new reality. “So you’re telling me that you... one of my dearest friends... the man I love like a brother is...?” “A clone,” a voice said from the doorway. All three turned to see Franklin Richards standing there, looking exhausted. “Franklin,” Grav stood to rush to his friend’s side. Helping him over to a seat on the couch, he asked him, “What are you doing here?” “I just ‘rebooted’ the last five days. I’ve never gone that far before,” the young genius confessed, referring to his temporal powers. “Why’d you do it then? What’s wrong?” Holly asked, equally concerned for her newly arrived friend. “I had to.” Franklin turned to face Grav. “The cellular decay is occurring at a far greater rate than I originally projected. And unless I can figure out a way to stop it this time...” “What do you mean ‘this time,’ Franklin?” Holly asked, her lip trembling slightly knowing the answer. Franklin looked around at the others, and then at Holly. “I ‘rebooted’ five days, because that’s when
Grav is going to die.”
To Be Continued... |
