4F for Freedom!

[Mark Chance]

Seventy-two hours passes like the blink of an eye. By 1000 on Thursday, 11 December 1942, the four newest American metahuman recruits are in a military transport plane, having stowed their duffles and other gear. PO3 Gaines is with them. He hands out itineraries after the plane reaches altitude.

"We'll be at Fort Lewis being briefed by 1300," he explains. "We'll get mess at the same time. We're done by 1400. The plane'll be refueled by then. We depart Lewis at 1430, destination Adak Island. That's a longer flight. Probably around 2000, we'll land at the airstrip on Adak. I'm sure the commander there will want to talk with you, so dinner's going to be late."

The flight to Lewis is somewhat dull, but conforms to Gaines's schedule of events. As soon as the plane taxis to a halt, Gaines leads the group to the nearest building. Inside are three long folding tables set up in a U, surrounded by more chairs than are necessary. A portable field kitchen is set up. Steam rises from the mess. Salisbury steak, baked beans, boiled carrots and broccoli, and buttered yeast rolls are tonight's menu.

"Grab a tray and serve yourselves," says a burly man in Army uniform. His ranks denotes him as a major. "I'm Major Hazard. Once you've grabbed your chow, have a seat."

 

[Kevin Perrine]

Mustang Sally

The flight to Lewis is somewhat dull, but conforms to Gaines's schedule of events.

The flight over was REALLY bumpy, Sally had begun to sweat and nearly had to use the "barf-bags" on re-entry...
She loved flighy but not like that ... the big airbus was to confined and a touch of claustrophobia mixed with the fact that she just couldn't control the flight made her sick to her stomach...

uuughhh, okay gotta think - my wings are in the cargo hold ... if the plane started going down, how would I make it to.....
Sally glanced around ever more nervous looking for the exit toward the hold. She caught the eye of a few of her new "teammates" and nervously tried to waive - to play off her fears...
great...!! they're gonna think I'm a lousy scarey-cat.....
As she turned to grip the arm rests a little tighter for the duration of the flight...

As soon as the plane taxis to a halt, Gaines leads the group to the nearest building. Inside are three long folding tables set up in a U, surrounded by more chairs than are necessary. A portable field kitchen is set up. Steam rises from the mess. Salisbury steak, baked beans, boiled carrots and broccoli, and buttered yeast rolls are tonight's menu.

"Grab a tray and serve yourselves," says a burly man in Army uniform. His ranks denotes him as a major. "I'm Major Hazard. Once you've grabbed your chow, have a seat."

Sally hoped the others hadn't seen much of her actions on the plane - she didn't want to let anyone down...
I mean they ain't even seen me be able to do anythin' special... all of them are special on the inside out - me I'm only special if I can get locked and loaded into my........ Oh MAN!! gotta make sure they unload my Angel-Wings from the cargo crates. I hope nothin' got bunged up in flight...
snapping up a tray without paying much attention, Sally's attention comes back to the present as the wiff of the food hits her nose.
yuuuummmm, she thought.....
The perpetual youth allowed her to go from sick and nautious from the plane trip to starved and straight the next.
"just like daddy used to make... errr... Uncle Sam anyway... she giggled sitting down and showelling a mouthful bigger than a girl her size should be able to handle in her mouth.

"Umnumum...." Sally's mouth full of food as she begins to talk (growing up with 4 men will hanker your habits a bit - but it was mildly cute) .... numummn... ummm Lily... she looks around a sec to confirm the name, she hadn't really talked directly to the other woman yet - but she thought that's what Paul had called her, or was it Atlas... oh man, she was bad with names...
.... numummn... wanna maybe... ummm look at my Cosmopolitan with me a little later... heheh are you a cosmo girl like me... Sally fumbled her thoughts trying to make ideal conversation with her new teammate... desperately wanting to be liked, she obviously didn't know much about the most lady-like trends... Anyone knows that Harper's Bizarre is "THE" magazine.
But Sally glanced up, semi-nervously as she looked to the bigger Atlas and then to Paul to see what they thought of her attempt to reach out...
As she pushed some mashed potatoes in her mouth...

 

[Synchronicity]

Paul O'Reiley, aka Bulwark!

The flight to Lewis is somewhat dull, but conforms to Gaines's schedule of events.

Part way through the flight, Bulwark wanders to the back of the plane, out of sight of the others, muttering something about 'changing into a more comfortable outfit.' When he returns, he's wearing a shirt and trousers, both neat but of no real quality; very blue-collar clothing. Now that his face can be seen properly, it can be noted that Paul has short brown hair and that he is handsome in a clean-cut way. His age is easier to judge, too; you'd hazard a guess at early to mid twenties. His easy smile remains.

"Well, that feels a lot better. That uniform's good for hiding my identity, but I admit I prefer other clothes. 'Sides, I don't reckon I need to be keeping secrets from you people; we're going to be working together for a while. So in the spirit of disclosure, I'm Paul O'Reiley, and I'm fighting this war so that my parents and sister can grow up in a free world without the swastika of those Nazi rats flying overhead."

His brief speech over, Paul sits near his team-mates on the flight, chatting easily and breezily with them. For such a large man, he's very personable.

"Grab a tray and serve yourselves," says a burly man in Army uniform. His ranks denotes him as a major. "I'm Major Hazard. Once you've grabbed your chow, have a seat."

"Thank you kindly," replies Paul to the Major. Paul takes a large helping of food, sits down, and began eating with the methodical gait of a man who's used to eating for sustenance rather than pleasure; not fast and not slow, but resolutely unhurried. He catches the eye of the young girl cramming potatoe into her mouth and smiles, obviously amused by Sally's attempt to fit the entire potatoe crop of the USA in her mouth in one go. Careful chewing and swallowing, Paul spoke.

"Go easy there. I'm sure it won't be that long until your next meal." Paul breaks off and chuckles slightly, a memory striking him.

Heh..you remind me more and more of my kid sister. She eats like there's no tomorrow as well, and she's got the energy of a whole batallion! Nothing I say makes her slow down, and I'm thinking my words aren't going to have much effect in this situation, either.." Paul accompanies his words with a wink, obviously meaning them only in jest.

 

[Karl Green]

Atlas

During the flight Atlas is a bit uncomfortable as he does not shrink smaller then 8 feet tall. When he notices Bulwark changed into civilian clothing and announce his name he signs and 'changes'. Now barely over 5' tall clean-shaven and rather skinny, 'Atlas' also has a full head of blond hair and blue eyes. He is wearing normal civilian clothing and says… "Well I guess this is a bit more comfortable… but as soon as we are off this thing, back to my 'real form' right"

True to his word, when they arrive at Fort Lewis, he changes instantly back into a 8-foot tall, bald man with a thick white beard and a smile. He also gets a large helping of food at the Café and sits with the others (if there are any chairs that look like they could support his weight)

 

[Velmont]

.... numummn... wanna maybe... ummm look at my Cosmopolitan with me a little later... heheh are you a cosmo girl like me...

"We can say like it. I have been raised in a circus, so I have visited almost all the big cities of america and even some of Canada. I am used to big cities. And I've lived in Los Angeles since the starts of the wars, as I was playing for the Dodgers."

"Heh..you remind me more and more of my kid sister. She eats like there's no tomorrow as well, and she's got the energy of a whole batallion! Nothing I say makes her slow down, and I'm thinking my words aren't going to have much effect in this situation, either.."

"So, you have some family? Can I know a bit more about them, or I should keep my questions for me?"

 

[Synchronicity]

Paul O'Reiley, aka Bulwark

"So, you have some family? Can I know a bit more about them, or I should keep my questions for me?"

"Well, there's not that much to tell...it's just me, my Mom, Dad, and Jennifer - that's my sister. She's the clever one; I always figured that she got the brains, and I got the brawn."
Paul smiles as he speaks, obviously proud of his sister's intelligence. "The men in our family have a long history of working in construction, and I'm no different, but Jennifer's something special. We all reckon she could really do great things, if she had the chance. We're hoping we can get her a good education, if we can find the money somewhere, but since..."
Paul falters and looks down at his plate, his carefree expression shifting into a frown. He stares at his half eaten food for a moment before he speaks again, still not looking at any of the others.
"Well, that isn't important. Like I said, not much to tell."
In contrast to his earlier manner, Paul's words this time are terse, and he seems...angry? or is it unhappy? - but not with Lily, rather with..himself? The big man begins to pay determined attention to his food, avoiding eye contact, and a frown creases his brow, his usual smile absent.
'Dammit, Paul. What's past is past. You've got to stop dwelling on it. Of course, that's easy to say and much harder to do..especially when it was all my fault.'

 

[Velmont]

"I'll understand if you don't want to talk." Lily looks at Paul and smiles to him, seeing he prefers not to relate what happen, she quickly shift the discussion. "So, Sally, what did you wanted to know. I think you have another question in mind. Am I wrong?"

 

[Mark Chance]

Fort Lewis, Washington

After the assembled recruits, Gaines, and the Major have had time to chat and eat, the Major taps his glass of orange juice with his knife.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he says, "everything I am about to tell is classified top secret. None of it is to be repeated within earshot of anyone not already in this room. Your particular part of the Metahuman Military Detachment is being assigned to Port Cruden on Adak Island. Cruden is a facility presently conducting vital war research of a highly speculative nature with the potential to turn the tide of the war not only in the Pacific but in Europe as well. I'm not able to got into detail about this research because, to be honest, I don't have the need to know much about it. I do know this: the research, dubbed Project Nemo, has something to do with rapid mass transit of troops and equipment. I have been instructed to tell you that Project Nemo's success means the U.S. will have the ability to insert troops and equipment well behind enemy lines with great rapidity and minimal chance for enemy interference.

"As for your part in all this, that is simple. We have reason to believe that the Japs have learned that Cruden is the site of war-related research. How much they know, or even if they actually know anything, isn't entirely clear, but we're not taking any chances given recent events in Siberia. Gaines, please distribute these."

Gaines takes a short stack of manila folders from the Major and hands them to Bulwark, Atlas, Mustang Sally, and Eagle. Inside is a single sheet of paper paperclipped to several grainy black-and-white aerial photographs. The first photograph shows some sort of port. The others show the same port, but after some sort of attack. Buildings are leveled. Docks collapsed. Trucks are overturned. A freighter is mostly submerged.

The Major continues, "Intelligence from the Chinese indicates that the attack on Port Potemkin was conducted by five Jap super-soldiers. These same five have been reported active in other areas of northeastern Asia. We don't know much about them. What we do know is summarized on that page."

The Major pauses a moment to give everyone time to read the brief report:

Japanese super-soldiers, designated Rising Sun, apparently include the following personnel:

1. Aji-Suki-Taka-Hi-Kone. Known meta-abilities: able to project lightning; capable of flight.

2. Bishamon. Known meta-abilities: hyper-combat skills in Japanese sword-fighting and judo, a form of wrestling.

3. Kintaro. Known meta-abilities: super-human strength and speed.

4. O-Kuni-Nushi. Known meta-abilities: insufficient information.

5. Oni. Known meta-abilities: insufficient information.

All Rising Sun personnel must be considered extremely dangerous. Treat as maximum threat.

"We're putting two and two together here, and coming up with an answer we don't like," the Major says. "These super-Japs are active in the northern Pacific theater. Adak Island is in that theater. We have reason to believe that the Japs have taken an interest in Cruden. This time of year, the north Pacific is too rough to easily transport conventional troops or make long-range bomber runs. If the Japs are planning on hitting Cruden, they've either got to wait for spring, or send in Rising Sun. For this reason, we want our own metahumans on the ground at Cruden ay-sap."

The Major takes a sip from his orange juice.

"Any questions?"

 

[Mark Chance]

Port Cruden, Adak Island

Unknown to the heroes on Fort Washington, the Major's worst fears are being realized.

"Kintaro! Oni! Find the girl!" Aji-Suki-Taka-Hi-Kone growls in Japanese. "Be careful! The Americans may have other metahumans hidden among the staff!"

Kintaro and Oni race from the mess hall as Aji-Suki-Taka-Hi-Kone turns back to the captives. Bishamon, his bloodied katana in hand, stands behind them. O-Kuni-Nushi, eyes glowing in dim interior, stands near Aji-Suki-Taka-Hi-Kone. The captive scientists, tied to chairs, frightened and helpless, shudder from more than just the cold. In the middle of them is an empty chair. Coils of rope hang slack on the chair. Just a moment ago, project historian Elisa Cameron was bound to that chair.

But then she simply vanished, much to the surprise of everyone present.

In English, Aji-Suki-Taka-Hi-Kone says, "Bishamon, before we continue this interrogation, please demonstrate to our captives the seriousness of our questions."

Bishamon makes a slight bow, his brow knitted into a scowl, and then he raises his katana for the strike.

Elsewhere, Kintaro and Oni are outside the mess hall. The blizzard rages around them, driving snow and ice into their faces, whipping Kintaro's long black hair. Kintaro grins, reveling in the raw ferocity of the storm. If Oni feels anything, the monster does not show it. Kintaro, a youthful Japanese lad no older than sixteen, drops into a crouch and runs ape-like toward the barracks, where he judges the missing girl is mostly like to have gone. Oni follows, the monster's slow pace frustrating the quick-limbed Kintaro. The youth hits the doors into the barracks so hard that they twist from their hinges. He immediately drops to the floor, sniffing like a hound. He knows the girl's scent, and he picks it up quickly. As he races down the corridor and up the stairs on her trail, Oni scrambles up the wall and skitters along like a giant bug, its claws clacking against the concrete.

Elisa Cameron sits on the floor of her room, wedged between her bunk and small nightstand. She is terrified and exhausted. Escaping from the chair seemed simple enough, but Elisa had not reckoned with how much of a toll teleporting blindly over such a distance would take on her body. Her legs and arms tremble as she struggles to her feet, brain racing in a near panic. Getting out of the mess hall was one thing. Getting away completely is an entirely different problem. She knows she would die of exposure in the blizzard long before any help could possibly arrive. She also knows there is no way for her to get off the island. Even if she could pilot a plane or navigate a ship, the Japs' initial attack removed those possibilities.

When she hears the soft footfalls of Kintaro and Oni's hard clacks in the corridor outside her room, Elisa knows that her time is running short. Another teleport would surely knock her out, leaving her unconscious, probably in the snow. Maybe, just maybe, she thinks, they'll pass by the room, but this hope dies with a barely suppressed whimper when she hears the dog-like snuffling outside her door.

There is no reason to remain silent any longer. Elisa lets the tears come. By the time Kintaro tears the door open, she is sobbing uncontrollably, begging for her life in utter desperation. She screams when Oni slides into the room, its compound eyes glittering in the dark, its mandibles dripping brackish fluid. The monster isn't moved to even the remotest vestige of pity or mercy as it lashes out at Elisa.

She barely feels the claws that slice thin, crimson lines across her chest, but the venom! Oh, how the venom burns! As if her guts and lungs had been set on fire!

Kintaro dashes forward, saying something in Japanese to Oni. The monster only shrugs. Kintaro catches Elisa as all strength flees her limbs. The youth grins down at her as her arms and legs contract into a sort of fetal position and the fire within her organs continues to rage.

Elisa Cameron hears the snap of her neck the instant before she dies.

Kintaro lifts her body and gently lays it on the bunk, brushing her hair out of her eyes. He turns away, eyes flashing angrily at Oni, but the monster remains unconcerned. The pair then leave the room to search the rest of Port Cruden in order to ensure there are no more unpleasant surprises.

 

[Synchronicity]

Paul O'Reiley, aka Bulwark

Fort Lewis, Washington

Gaines takes a short stack of manila folders from the Major and hands them to Bulwark, Atlas, Mustang Sally, and Eagle. Inside is a single sheet of paper paperclipped to several grainy black-and-white aerial photographs. The first photograph shows some sort of port. The others show the same port, but after some sort of attack. Buildings are leveled. Docks collapsed. Trucks are overturned. A freighter is mostly submerged.

Bulwark seems to have recovered from his earlier brooding, and his natural friendly personality has reasserted itself by the time the Major calls the group to order. He lets out a low, quiet whistle as he views the contrasting pictures and half opens his mouth, but silently shuts it again as the Major continues talking.

The Major continues, "Intelligence from the Chinese indicates that the attack on Port Potemkin was conducted by five Jap super-soldiers. These same five have been reported active in other areas of northeastern Asia. We don't know much about them. What we do know is summarized on that page."

The Major pauses a moment to give everyone time to read the brief report:

Japanese super-soldiers, designated Rising Sun, apparently include the following personnel:

1. Aji-Suki-Taka-Hi-Kone. Known meta-abilities: able to project lightning; capable of flight.

2. Bishamon. Known meta-abilities: hyper-combat skills in Japanese sword-fighting and judo, a form of wrestling.

3. Kintaro. Known meta-abilities: super-human strength and speed.

4. O-Kuni-Nushi. Known meta-abilities: insufficient information.

5. Oni. Known meta-abilities: insufficient information.

All Rising Sun personnel must be considered extremely dangerous. Treat as maximum threat.

"We're putting two and two together here, and coming up with an answer we don't like," the Major says. "These super-Japs are active in the northern Pacific theater. Adak Island is in that theater. We have reason to believe that the Japs have taken an interest in Cruden. This time of year, the north Pacific is too rough to easily transport conventional troops or make long-range bomber runs. If the Japs are planning on hitting Cruden, they've either got to wait for spring, or send in Rising Sun. For this reason, we want our own metahumans on the ground at Cruden ay-sap."

The Major takes a sip from his orange juice.

"Any questions?"

Paul sits for a moment, pondering. He seems about to speak several times, but each time shuts his mouth again, frowning. Eventually, he speaks up.

"Well, I'm sure if I was a soldier I'd have some. But it all seems kinda straightforward to me. We go to Adak Island, guard the facility, slam the super-Japs if and when they turn up, and then wait for new instructions. Oh, hang on...I think maybe I do have a question. It talks about 'known metahuman abilities'..is there any information on the..I dunno, - the power, or level, or extent, whatever you want to call it - of these guys' abilities? For instance, it says 'super-human strength'..do we know if that's 'as strong as two men', or 'able to lift a tank', or just that he's stronger than normal people? I just guess I'd like to know if we have any better information on what we might be having to deal with."

Paul sits back after he's finished, taking a drink and looking a little self-conscious.