When asked, he would just grin and wink at the curious, never denying nor confirming the rumor.
He had the physique of a champion - a winner. It was more than just his size and strength; it was the way he held himself, the way he moved, the way he spoke. He had an absolute economy of movement, without any of the jittering or hunching affectations that most individuals show. He gave the impression that he was a man in total and complete control.
Growing up in the mean back streets of Greater San Antonio, a town known before Armageddon for its military bases and science research centers, Joseph had come to discern the good from the evil at a young age. His hatred towards the Mutant race qualified him for the job as a Mutant Killer extraordinaire, but he didn’t despise all Mutants – just the bad ones. As a matter of fact, his best childhood friend was a Mutant.
Although Jenny Martinez was declared human at birth, it wasn’t until she hit puberty that she started showing signs of being a Mutant. She discovered she could open portals to her worst nightmares and get lost in them for days. When her parents discovered this, they tried to get her help – but her tests always came back 100 percent human. It was around this time that she was screened for being autistic. She never used her powers for evil… only to hide from all the hate and bullying that came with being a misunderstood autistic Mutant.
Jenny's autism would cause most people to feel awkward and uncomfortable around her, but not with Joseph. She rarely smiled but she often reacted to Joseph’s wry humor and gentle kidding with a small smile or a shake of her head.
They had grown up together, though she was a few years younger, taking care of one another like brother and sister on the streets of Greater San Antonio. Martinez used her powers for good, which Joseph greatly appreciated since he had chosen her to be his Mutant Killer partner. He trusted no one like he trusted Jenny, especially now that they served together on the Mutant Kill Squad.
The government cruiser halted at the GSA City Hall's twin doors, as Joseph and Martinez exited from the vehicle, both gripping their Mutant Strike shotguns. Their weapon of choice was a three pound, 350-round magazine Mutant Strike shotgun that could stop most Mutants dead in their tracks. Their Mutant Strike body armor was a lightweight solar-powered body cast shield that acted as a defense against most Mutant powers that were intended to harm the human body.
As the pair of Mutant Killers circled the area, the Punks from Hell were wreaking all sorts of havoc from within the walls of City Hall. Dizzy caused the city council members that did not cooperate to fall to their knees, therefore making them easy targets for Static's heat-draining energy beams. The Gecko Twins caused fear and confusion by running around the hall chanting Mutant hymns - underworld nursery rhymes - satanic rubbish they chanted right before killing all their victims.
Joseph crept slowly into the building, alert for the slightest sound and the faintest movement. He turned to meet Martinez; their eyes encountered in silent understanding. No words were necessary as they telepathically communicated between them. They heard a slight sound and turned towards the hall doorway. Bursting forth, they entered the hall firing their shotguns simultaneously.
In the blink of an eye, Rico Gecko’s chest exploded in a mist of red viscera. It caved inwards, in a tangled bloody mess of tissue and cartilage. Outraged, his twin brother Chico created a powerful concussive blast, forcing the Mutant Killers to be jerked straight back off their feet, giving his twin brother time to heal his wounds. As Rico struggled to mend his wounds, his entrails and ribcage fused back together, regenerating almost perfectly.
Joseph quickly helped Martinez to her feet as he again fired at his Mutant assailants. Particles of steel, shards of glass, and new age plastic sprayed down from the walls and ceiling as Martinez joined in on the fire fight. City Council members and innocent hostages ran for their lives unnoticed among the chaos between the two warring parties.
Joseph and Martinez halted their gunfire, listening intently, as they squinted and tried to see through the fallout. Gun smoke and dust hung heavily in the air.
The room had become completely silent.
Suddenly, two beams of energy shot from a cloudy corner, hitting Martinez in the chest. She groaned in agonizing terror as the beams tried to penetrate her body armor.
“Jenny!” Joseph yelled, as he flung her body from the path of the beams. He again fired his shotgun, hitting Static squarely in the middle of her chest. Blood and bone withdrew from the core of her back.
As the Mutant lay, bleeding to death, Rico stepped in to heal her wounds, but before he could accomplish his task, Joseph fired a shot that glided straight through Rico's forehead. He would never heal anyone ever again.
Chico shrouded himself in a force field bubble and made a run for Joseph chanting a Mutant hymn, as Dizzy crept up behind him trying to telepathically disorient his balance. Joseph braced himself for the onslaught, raising his weapon for defense. He blinked, and when he opened his eyes he caught a glimpse of a hot, deserted, and unsightly world. He blinked again in disbelief; its horizon was a dark-red to purplish-black. Slashed by canyons. Studded with volcanoes. And blanketed with lava rock and boulders. Almost as instantly as it appeared, the vision was gone and so were the two punks.
They had vanished into thin air.
“What the...?” said Joseph, looking around the room amazed.
Then, glancing over at Martinez, she smiled at him, her hands raised in front of her as if she were trying to stop an oncoming vehicle.
“They're gone. Won't bother you again.” She lowered her hands.
“What did you do to them? Where did you send them? What was that I saw?”
“Let’s just say now they are truly Punks from Hell. Their Satanic hymns should come in handy.”
Martinez rarely joked. Smiling, Joseph replied, “Damn, you're good.”
The pristine castle perched on the side of a magnificent mountain. The people of the Celestial capital strolled calmly down the streets, stopping to gaze and warm their faces in the warm sunlight, going about their daily operations.
It was a day like any other for the Celestials. That was, until a drizzle of plasma appeared in the center of the grand city and five Earth Mutants appeared in the main square. The gorgeous, anthropomorphic creatures of Celestial World watched in horror as the evil miscreant - Syn, with Michele draped at his feet and gripping a frighteningly modified sawed-off pulse rifle, grinned at them maliciously. Three massive neosapien body guards stood behind them, covered in assorted armor.
“Hello, Celestials. I’m Back,” Syn said in a slow, raspy voice.
From the top of her beautiful white palace, Elissa observed the invasion of her glorious city, and raced over to a control board. Quickly pressing a button, she sent out a distress signal alerting all other Celestial leaders of the return of the Headhunters.
Syn calmly strolled into Her Majesty's royal bedroom, his long dark cloak sweeping the palace's floor. Michele and another Mutant weren’t too far behind.
Pointing at the computer and display screen, Syn spoke to Rocket, “Detect where that signal was sent. Then scramble Her Majesty's communications systems.”
Turning towards Elissa, he looked her up and down and said, “If that was to signal your lover Joseph Blades, he is occupied at the present.”
“How dare you show your ugly face here again.” Elissa lifted her chin in defiance. “You Mutant pig.”
Michele growled at the insult, stepped forward and struck Elissa with a closed fist, and exclaimed, “How dare you speak that way to your Emperor!”
“Help is on its way. My people will prevail, and you will perish,” Elissa sneered.
“I sure hope so. Especially one certain Mutant Killer,” jeered Syn. “I have plans for him.” He turned to consult Rocket for confirmation on the signal’s destination.
Michele raised her fist again and Elissa braced herself for the blow, but instead Michelle elevated a small metallic object, lying on the opposite side of the room
and shot it across the angelic white space, striking the Empress in the left temple.
As Elissa fell unconscious to the spotless white, tiled floor, Michele spoke. “I'm sorry for my hostile actions, my lord.” Her voice reflected no regret.
“Be careful, Michele. I need her alive to lure Joseph to me.”
“I'm sorry, my lord. Let me make it up to you,” she purred suggestively.
“No.” Syn never let her seductive designs get to him, “I have a reputation to uphold.” Then, turning to look at the city below, he finished, “Besides I have just received word that the Punks failed to slow down the Mutant Killer. Joseph Blades is on his way.”
The distress signal reached Joseph and Martinez on route back to his GSA office. A hologram flickered to life on the cruiser’s dash.
“I'm sorry, Mr. Blades,” the dispatcher said as he came to life in the hologram, “but we just intercepted a distress call from Celestial World. We checked and our sources tell us the Headhunters have invaded once again. They have taken the palace hostage.”
Martinez looked at Joseph. “I'm going with you.”
“Send word we are coming!” He yelled at the hologram before it faded away.
“Jenny, vamanos! We're going to need help on this one.”
The activities of Bad Guy Eddie were well known to the British Secret Police. Also the Israelis Mossad, Interpol, French Intelligence, the CIA, and the MKS. Bad Guy seemed to restrain his activities essentially to the Eurasian continent, Middle East, and northern Africa. A consummate professional, he excelled in keeping his identity secret so that practically nothing was known about him. Whenever he appeared, death and mayhem spontaneously followed, and then he would merely disappear without a single trace, dissipating like a ghost.
It was almost midnight when the silhouette of a figure appeared on the roof of the Houston Crime Lab. The figure wore a hood and dark fatigues, keeping his identity a mystery. He quietly moved past the on-duty security guards inside the building and stealthily proceeded until he came to a windowless cell. There, the figure saw the Hellfire IV - an ultra-fragmentation explosive, with an impact of 1000 pounds plus. It was a beauty, the ultimate in electro-magnetic explosives.
The figure calmly picked the bomb from its display, and placed it within a long, duffel bag. He then turned to exit the cell avoiding any confrontation with the security guard on duty. He snickered at the ease with which he had acquired the Hellfire. However, for the first time in all his years of being a professional thief he had overlooked one minor detail, the newly installed security system... the “Assault” system.
A figure in green and black armor, leaped from out of the shadows, spun to his left, and executing a flawless helicopter kick, landed a huge boot into the right cheekbone of Bad Guy Eddie. The villain's head jerked to the left as he released a dull moan.
Quickly shaking off the effects of the kick, a compartment on Eddie's chest shot open, ejecting a sharp circular weapon, a disc of some sort. It whistled through the air at a rapid pace, on a direct course for Assault's torso. He dove out of the way as the exotic weapon orbited over his head and struck the wall behind him. Then, getting a clean shot at Eddie’s chest, Assault began to pump him full of uranium and steel with his combat rifle.
Bad Guy Eddie’s body began to convulse, and with one final jerk - he crumpled to the floor in one bloody heap.
Assault straightened himself up, and replied cynically, “Say hello to the real bad guy, Eddie.”
Back at the Houston Military-Security Complex, Assault was called into the briefing room. He had successfully completed one mission and he had a distinct feeling he was about to embark on another.
“Officer 0563, Damu,” he said to the CIA suit, who was waiting for him within the room. “You wanted to see me, sir?”
The suit was struck in awe by the presence of the man. Assault was well over six feet, with a weight of about two hundred and eighty pounds. He was one of the few respected black men in his line of work, with the size and agility of a heavyweight boxer. Everything about him commanded self-respect and confidence, which was all the more emphasized by his dramatic fatigues and the way he wore them. His sleek speech had richness and timbre. He moved with grace and power. It was almost impossible to be in his presence and not feel admiration.
“Yes, Officer Damu, are you familiar with the notorious Mutant gangster Syn?”
“Yes. Leader of the Headhunters.”
“Exactly. We need him terminated.”
“What? Why me? Doesn't the agency have their own organization to do their dirty work?”
“Yes. But we've been told you are the best.”
“What fool fed you that line of bull?”
The wall directly in front of them slid open with a slight hum. Joseph and Martinez calmly strolled into the complex.
“I guess I'm that fool,” the Mutant Killer smiled.
Surprised, Assault replied, “Why, you double-crossing, Mutant-loving, no-good son-of-a...” He stepped forward menacingly.
“I thought he was an old friend of yours.” The suit took a quick step backwards as he whispered.
“Look, old friend. I can explain everything,” Joseph interrupted, holding up a hand pleadingly.
Joseph and Assault along with one other fellow, Johnny Mo, AKA Crazy, had been a part of an elite commando group of Solar SeALS, in their younger days. Their friendship had grown into a brotherly bond. Upon leaving the military, they were going to pursue a life of fighting crime and cleaning up the old neighborhoods. Joseph had formed the Mutant Kill Squad with Assault and Johnny Mo, but when Joseph also recruited Jenny, the other two objected. They wanted nothing to do with a Mutant in their squad, and Joseph would not discuss firing her from the team. The two guys quit.
Assault never forgave Joseph for teaming up with a Mutant. Crazy, on the other hand, became a paid assassin for a group of Martian Guerrillas. He was now incarcerated at the Third Maximum-Security Penal Colony for Sentenced War Criminals. It was in continuous orbit around Mars.
“Assault, I need your help.”
“What is it this time?” He snarled.
“Syn and his men have taken control of Celestial World.”
“Is Elissa all right?” His brow furrowed.
“I don't know. We've lost complete contact with the city. Will you help us?”
“Is she coming with us?” Assault nodded towards Jenny.
Joseph nodded yes.
“Then you know my answer.”
“Jenny?” Joseph called to his Mutant partner, making a silent request of her. He had no other choice.
Her eyes began to flinch; she then squeezed them shut to concentrate.
“What's wrong with your partner?”
Knowing Mutants, anything could happen next.
Assault's presence began to fade. “Wait a minute. What's wrong with me?” He yelled, startled at what was happening.
Seconds later, Assault was in a weird and fantastic world, a Mutant dimension of nightmares. He began to survey the area, unsure of what to expect. Damn, this is why he hated Mutants. They messed with your mind. Turning he found himself face-to-face with an eight-foot tall, hideous, blood red creature. An abomination with fluorescent eyes, six-inch horns above its brow as dark as night and teeth that were equally unsightly.
The beast opened its grotesque mouth and hissed, “You should've said yes. Now, you’re mine for all eternity.” It laughed. Then, using its long and jagged, black fingernails, it reached out and pierced Assault's neck.
“No! Stop!” Assault shut his eyes knowing it was just a dream but feeling the pain and horror just the same. Upon reopening his eyes, the monster penetrated his brain, bone and flesh with its impressive teeth. He heard the words explode over and over in his head – ‘You should've said yes... You should've said yes...’
Squeezing his eyes shut once more, Assault cried, “Yes! Yes, I'll help you!” The pain began to recede, and he began to moan. He found himself on his knees. It
took a lot to get to Assault, but somehow, using her Mutant powers, Jenny had accomplished what no man or Mutant had ever been able to do – gotten into his psyche and found Assault’s worst childhood fear – night monsters.
“Damn it, woman. I was gonna say yes. I just wanted him to beg a little.”
A shuttle docked at the penal colony's spaceport. Droids, escorting newly sentenced war criminals, exited the ship - along with wives, husbands, and children of convicts visiting for the day.
A beautiful brunette wearing military issue jungle camo and gripping a charcoal colored attaché case hurried her way through the crowd and entered the Penal Administration Sector. She sat in a metal visitor's chair in front of an angular steel desk, in the center of a deserted and cold corridor.
A man, wearing a spotless white jacket, walked into the chamber and sat behind the desk. “How may I be of service?”
“I'm Parole Officer 192-50. I have a Special Prison Parole Release form plus all the required parole orders.” She opened her case and a holographic image illuminated to life. “I'm asking that War Criminal Number 450-50: Mo, Johnny be released at once.”
The gentleman examined the classified hologram as it scanned across his retinas.
“Everything seems to be in order. I'll initiate his release at once.”
“Good.” She stood. “I'll be waiting in the lobby.”
A huge, chrome door hissed open as she made her exit.
Moments later, in the Administration Sector's lobby, she greeted a tall, well-built individual, wearing his old civilian clothes, covered by a long, leather trench coat, a black beret, and thick, leather combat boots. He was accompanied by two burly guards. As soon as the guards turned back up the hallway, she smiled at him.
“Crazy!” she yelled, embracing the war criminal.
“Lieutenant Morales. How'd ya' get me paroled? I'd a couple more years to go.”
Joseph and the Mutant Killers Page 2
