THUNDERBOLTS: Babysitter
by Mike Smith (mike_p_smith@hotmail.com)

Old School Disclaimer: This story  features the Thunderbolts, who are trademarks of Marvel comics and are being used without permission. This is an unauthorized work and no profit is being made on this work. This story is copyright of me.  Download it if you like, but pleasedon't archive it without my permission. 

Human Continuity Note: This story takes place between THUNDERBOLTS #5 and #6. 

[TECHNO]

"As much as I hate worn out cliches, I'd have to say that 'read 'em and weep' is inescapably appropriate here." 

Paul Norbert Ebersol waved a hand over the five cards he had just laid on the table.  Jack of Clubs, Six of Diamonds, Seven of Hearts, Eight of Clubs, and the Four of Hearts.  The other four men at the table rolled their eyes at the array while he scooped up a pile of plastic chips in his hands. 

"Straight," Conrad groaned.  "I had a freaking Flush and I tossed it out like yesterday's trash..."

Norbert grinned pleasantly as he began carefully organizing his winningsby color.  "Well, it was your idea to make Jacks wild," he noted. 

"You sure you aren't using some kinda gizmo, Fix?" Benny snorted.  The burly man gathered up the cards and began shuffling them in his fat fingers with deceptive ease. 

"You wound me, Benny.  I left all my gadgets at home when I retiredfrom being the Fixer," he explained.  He tapped a finger at his baldhead.  "_This_, now this is the real moneymaker, gentlemen.  Iplay poker for the challenge, you understand." 

"Yeah, well you could always find some entertainment in cooking up new ways to cheat, huh?" asked Fuller between puffs of cigar smoke.

"Not likely," Norbert replied.  "I figured out how to rig a poker game when I was thirteen years old.  Once you realize the simplicity of tapered decks and coded markings on the backs, it's just a quick exercise in cryptography."

He paused to toss in his ante for the next hand.  "Oh, I _could_ rig up a micro radio transceiver in the Ace of Spades, but why run up my electric bill?  No, I'll be quite content to lose a few hands now and then if it keeps me from dying of boredom.  After all, if I couldn't affordthe disposable income, I'd still be out in the field, right?"

To Benny's left, Jackson snatched up each of his cards as they were dealt.  Finally he threw a pair of red chips into the middle of the table. "Yeah, about that, Norby," he said.  "You said before that you werestill in the consultation business, right?"

"Call," Fuller mumbled, donating a matching pair of chips to the pot. 

"Two," Conrad announced, adding two red chips, "and two more." He supplied a second pair. 

"Call," Norbert acknowledged, putting four chips in.  "Yeah, I guess you'd call it semi-retirement to be honest," he answered.  "Shuffleboard isn't my game, and I guess I've still got the Fixing bug from time to time.  But I'm done with the green suit and the Weapons Pack." 

It was true enough, Norbert decided.  Technically, he was retired from his old identity of the Fixer.  Since then, he'd traded his green suit for red and black.  As for the consultation, well... that was all it had been in the beginning, when he hooked up with Baron Zemo to recruit a new lineup of the Masters of Evil, only to reinvent the villainous team into the Thunderbolts, a group of heroes secretly plotting to betray the world.  The agreement was for the team to maintain their new identities as oftenas possible to reduce the possibility of being discovered, but Norbert figured he was careful enough to play a few hands in his spare time.

"Ah, forget it," Benny grumbled, laying his cards face-down on the table.  "I'm out."

"I call," Jackson said.  "Well, that's what I was wondering about actually."

"Uh...call.  And gimme three cards, Benny," Fuller said. 

"That bad, huh?" Conrad asked.  "Two."  Benny laid the cards in front of him and took back the couple he removed from his hand.    

"Ah, one, please," Norbert finally decided.  "Why?" he asked Jackson. "Did your employers have a job for me?" 

"I'll take two," Jackson said.  "As a matter of fact, we did, but it's been taken care of already.  We had to get a stash of artillery across the border, and the higher-ups got in touch with a guy calling himself the Fixer." 

Norbert swallowed hard.  "What?!"

Jackson put a blue chip in the pot. 

"Call," Fuller mumbled.

"Raise you three," Conrad said. 

"Yeah, guy rigged up the crate with a hologram, so anyone who opened it would only see action figures," Jackson said.  "Even installed an anti-grav disk to keep the weight from giving it away.  The works." 

This was bad.  Zemo would have his head if he found out a new Fixerwas in the business--and possibly allowing his clients to mistake him forthe original. It was a weak lead to exposing the Thunderbolts, and it wasdoubtful that anyone would think to pursue it, but there it was.  He'dhave to deal with this.

"Hey, you in or not?" Fuller demanded.

"Oh, right.  Call."  Norbert tossed his bet in and redirected his attention to Jackson.  "So who is this guy?  How'd you get in touch with him?"

Jackson raised the stakes and produced a business card from his pocket.  "He sent one of these to us.  I swiped that from my boss' desk, so I'll need it back." 

Norbert reached across the table and took the card in his hand.  The card had no text, save for the words "Press Here" beneath an image of a thumbprint.  He pressed it and a holographic image appeared a few inches off the surface of the paper. 

"Call," Fuller said. 

"Forget it.  Fold," Conrad sighed. 

"Looking for technological support?  Have a problem that you just can't seem to solve?  Wish you could just get a situation fixed once and for all?  Then you're looking at the solution to your troubles!  Just dial 349-48-669 on your phone.  That's FIX-IT-NOW.  Call now and kiss your worries good-bye!" 

The image dissipated and Norbert simply stared at the card.  The man was wearing a variation of his old costume, but not an exact duplicate.  So at least he hadn't stolen the original.  What little of his facethe outfit exposed didn't look much like his own face, but then he didn'tlook much like himself since he joined the Thunderbolts.  He wasn'twearing his bioplasmic disguise now, but when it was activated, it gave hima whole new face, complete with hair and a ghoatee.  Besides, most ofthe people who had enlisted the Fixer's services never cared what he lookedlike.  That was the whole point.  If this impostor’s talentswere there, it was likely that no one would ever notice the difference. 

"Today, Norbert?!"

"Sorry," he said hurriedly.  "Uh, I'll call.  You can have this back, Jackson, but I'm definitely going to have to look into this."

"Four of a kind, folks."  Jackson proclaimed, laying the cards out for all to see. 

"I knew it," Conrad said.

"Oh, for the love of--" Fuller moaned, trailing off into misery. 

Norbert looked down at his own hand.  He had two pair.  "What?  What... just happened?"

"A worn out cliche," Jackson explained with a grin.  "You were saying something about looking into this new Fixer..."

"Right," Norbert said.  "I'm gonna have to cash out early, folks.  Let's do it again some time." He put on his coat and got up from the chair.  Benny started totaling up his chips and pulled out a wad of cash to replace them.  Norbert quickly stuffed it into his coat pocket and headed out.  Once he was safely out of sight he touched an invisible device on his neck which reactivated the bioplasmic disguise.  

He was Techno now, but he was still dressed in the same clothes, and driven by the same motivation. Someone was ripping off his reputation, and he had to put a stop to it. 

But first he'd have to get some personal time.

[CITIZEN V]

The media perception of Citizen V was good.  Better than any of them had hoped, really.  The outside world saw him as dashing, a modern day swashbuckler in the vein of Zorro or the Scarlet Pimpernel. 

Indoors, and in private, he was considerably less appealing. 

Literally.  Norbert was used to seeing his face, but he supposed that if the adoring fans of the Thunderbolts could see Citizen V without his mask--scarred and disfigured from exposure to caustic chemicals--a good three-quartersof them would throw up.  If they were allowed to discover that he wasHelmut Zemo, son of the Nazi scientist and leader of the dreaded Mastersof Evil, the other quarter of them might join in. 

And that was what had surprised him the most about how adeptly Zemo had played the role of Citizen V.  He was the oldest, most jaded of the new Masters, and yet he seemed to be the one who had made the easiest transition fromone identity to the next. 

It was probably a matter of people seeing what they wanted to see. When the Thunderbolts debuted as the new team of heroes filling the voidleft behind by the defunct Avengers and Fantastic Four, the public acceptedit without question.  Zemo's arrogance became V's heroic confidence. His stubborn obsession became his sense of duty and honor.  His maskwas a symbol of anonymous charity where it was once a heirloom of shame. And maybe that irony was what fueled his performance.  Zemo was doinga dead on parody of the milk drinking, straight-shooting superhero that hedespised. 

Indoors, of course, he was all-business. 

"I said, no, Techno," he muttered as he scanned over a pile of documentson his desk. 

"Come on, Baron," Norbert chided.  "This guy's using my name, my gimmicks!  He could blow the lid off this whole scam!  Don't tell me you're gonna sit there and do nothing!"

"Need I remind you, Techno," the Baron answered impatiently, "that it's not 'your name' any longer?  You retired the identity of the Fixer.  If someone else wishes to pick up the name, so be it."  He looked back down at his work.

"Oh, and I suppose if some joker started calling himself Baron Zemo, you'd be completely fine with it?" Norbert taunted.  "For that matter, you were just as hot as the rest of us when that new Masters of Evil popped up a while back.  How is this any different?" 

"It isn't," Zemo replied.  "In fact, those would-be Masters aided our ruse in the long run.  By keeping the concept alive, and by us confronting them as the Thunderbolts, the public is far less likely to guess at any deeper connection.  The same goes for this new Fixer you discovered. And, if we can find the time, I'd be interested in pursuing him." 

"Then what's wrong with me doing it now?" Norbert demanded.

The German nobleman shoved a pencil to the desktop and glared at him.  "This: The Thunderbolts are not in the business of... volunteering our services unnecessarily.  We are confidence artists, weaving an elaborate deception.  Our primary focus is in plotting our exploitation of that confidence, asI am attempting to do now.  We will investigate the Fixer matter whenand only when it best suits our purposes, and not your singular agenda.  Is that clear?"

"Crystal, Baron," Norbert snorted.  "So what's so important that you can't spare a single man today?  We aren't scheduled to run any patrols, and you never asked for my help with whatever this is..."

"As it happens, I do have a job for you, Techno," Citizen V noted. "The child, Hallie." 

"What about her?" Norbert asked.  "I tested Jolt's powers a while back.  Nothing to worry about." 

"I'm not concerned with that," Zemo remarked flatly.  "She has visited me three times today, apparently looking for something to do.  I want you to keep her occupied while I work." 

Norbert rolled his eyes.  Only Zemo would invite him onto the biggest scheme in the history of super-villainy to send him on a babysitting job.  "You're putting me on, C.V.  You're keeping me off the Fixer case for this?  Hallie's harmless.  Let her see what you're working on.  If she doesn't faint from shock, I'll give you good odds she'd be happy to go along with this gig.  We let her join the T-Bolts, right?" 

"Only under certain conditions," Zemo explained.  "One of those being that we would keep her occupied while we plotted our true intentions.  Today, that's your responsibility."  Norbert was about to make an objection when Zemo cut him off to speak again.  "Techno, I am not asking you.  Do it."

"Fine," he muttered, and proceeded to the door.  As it slid shut behind him, he pondered his options.  Zemo wasn't going to be of any help,but he hadn't gotten to where he was today without learning to slip arounda few walls.  If the Baron didn't want to be disturbed, that meant hewouldn't venture out to check on how his orders were being carried out. So long as the kid was out of his hair, that would be enough.  And ifhe could delegate the responsibility to someone else, who's to say he couldn'ttake a little personal time in the city...?

[ATLAS]

A small missile rocketed toward him, seeming to grow more menacing as itapproached.  Suddenly, but not unexpectedly, it veered away at the lastpossible second. 

This training session was for Atlas alone.  The automated weaponry wouldn't squander itself on anyone else. 

Norbert looked on as his teammate swatted away the same projectile that had just barely avoided his own person.  He was a sight to see in battle--unlike some of the other Thunderbolts who had to readjust to the new powers which came with their new identities, Erik Josten had been able to change his size for years, and during his career as the gargantuan Goliath, he had gotten pretty good at it, too. 

A trio of armored robots lunged after him, and he shrank down to six feet to scurry between them and avoid their attack.  The robots were caught off guard, and by the time they had turned around to bring their stun lasers to bear, he had already grown back to twenty feet, making him large enough to withstand their shots. 

"So how'm I doing?" he called out to his one-man audience.

"My instruments don't care if you win or lose this one, Erik," Norbert explained. "As long as you rapidly change from one height to another, and keep physically exerting yourself, I'll have all the data I need."

His tech-pac, an array of cybernetic components which he could reconfigure through mental command, was currently serving as a sensor array, monitoring Atlas' biological systems as he fought.  Norbert sat on a bench on a far wall and watched while the equipment sprawled across his shoulders and chest did their work.  Soon enough, he'd have sufficient data to figure out exactly what had happened to the Thunderbolts' resident big man.

On the surface, Atlas seemed no different from any other size changing hero.  It was the bio-chemist Henry Pym who discovered the particle which allowed living things to grow and shrink, and its properties were well documented.  When a man grew bigger via Pym particles, he grew proportionally stronger and more resistant to injury, insuring that the man wouldn't simply collapse under his own weight.  Twice as big meant twice as strong, and twice as invulnerable, and so on.

But Atlas wasn't a textbook case.  During his super-villain career,he had also been exposed to ionic treatments, which had made him super-strong even at normal size.  As Goliath, Josten was nearly unstoppable because of this, and yet recently his powers seemed to be altered somehow. Norbert hadn't gone over the data yet, but casual observation suggested hewasn't all that strong at normal size, and yet he was far stronger at giantsize than the Pym particles would have allowed.  Could the two effectshave interacted in some way?

"..easy for you to say, Tech!" he heard Atlas shout back, breaking his train of thought.  "But us guinea pigs, we got a vested interest in how the experiment turns out!"  He expanded himself to sixteen feet and struck a robot in the head with a massive right hand, pulping its main CPU.

"Seriously though, I wanted to ask you about all the tests you've been running," Atlas said as he weaved between jets of flames. 

"I'm not done with them yet, Erik," Norbert said.  "I don't want tosay anything unless I can back it up with evidence."

"I know," he admitted.  "I was just wondering... and I--I guess I'mconcerned is all."

Norbert looked up from his work.  "About what?"

"Well, you know me and Dallas are gettin' kind of serious... at least I'd like to think so," he began.  "Well, If my powers are changing, I just wanna be sure I'm not dangerous to be around, you know?" 

Norbert nodded understandingly.  As the liaison for the mayor's office, Dallas Riordan had been one of the few civilians to interact with the Thunderbolts on a regular basis since they debuted in New York.  She and Atlas had taken an immediate liking to one another, and they had become quite an item in the last few weeks. 

"I see," he answered, pausing to think.  "As far as being radioactive, or growing a big red ant head," Norbert finally explained, "I think we can safely eliminate any of that.  Your social life isn't in any dangerthat I can see, Erik." 

"That's a relief," Atlas said, quickly ducking a swinging battleaxe.  "But you are _sure_, right?" 

"Would I be sitting here breathing the same air as you if I weren't?" Norbert asked with a grin. 

"Well shoot, what am I hanging around here for, then?" Atlas said with astart.  Without hesitation, he grew to forty feet--the maximum heighthe could achieve without damaging the ceiling--and waded past the trainingautomatons as they tried in vain to hold back his boots.  Once clearof them, he flipped off the program and returned to normal height, makinga beeline for the door.

"Hey!  Where are you going?" Norbert asked.

"I gotta get to a phone, and quick!" Atlas replied, already halfway downthe hall.  "I turned down an offer to go to the movies with Dallas soI could get this taken care of first.  But if I'm not a biohazard oranything, maybe I can still--"

"Hey, hold on!" Norbert called.  But it was too late.  Better to let him go, he decided.  He had enough to go on for the time being,and Atlas probably wouldn't have agreed to take Hallie off his hands, anyway. 

"Ah, well," he mused to himself, "there's plenty of other Thunderbolts in the sky..."

[MACH-1 and SONGBIRD]

Norbert was greeted with the fresh scent of pine as he entered the room.  It hadn't been long since the upper floors of Four Freedoms Plaza had been refitted to serve as the Thunderbolts' headquarters, but even in that short time, the den had become one of his favorite rooms. 

After all, he helped furnish it.

"Greetings, sir!" chirped a small robot as it wheeled underfoot.  "May I prepare some refreshment for you?" 

He waved his hand casually.  "Not today, Rosie.  Nice work with the climate controls, by the way.  I'd swear we were in a cabin somewhere out in British Columbia if I didn't know better."

"Thank you, sir," the robot replied.  It was a roundabout way of complimenting himself, he had to confess.  After all, he built the robot who maintained the ambiance of this place.  But he was hardly one to play down hisown accomplishments.  He strolled across the room and found his partners in crime (literally) sitting on one of the overstuffed couches in the room. 

"So how's New York's hottest couple?" He asked cheerfully.  The twoof them looked up from a pile of pamphlets and smiled at him. 

"Hey, Techno, what's up?" Abe asked. 

"Wait, back up.  What did you say?" Melissa asked. 

He pulled a newspaper out from under his arm and tossed it to her. She caught it in her right hand and unrolled the Sunday edition of the DailyBugle. 

"Magazine section," Norbert explained.  "Somebody wrote in and asked if your relationship was something more than... professional.  Apparently you guys tend to stick together when we're in action.  And somebodymust have overheard Abe getting upset when you took that bump from the Growing Man a while back." 

"Aw, man!" Abe sulked.  "I was just concerned, that's all... I mean, I'd have done the same for the rest of you.  Geez, now the press isgonna start all these rumors and we'll never hear the end of it!"

"When did you start worrying about the media, Abe?" Norbert asked. 

"When they started to respect me," he replied. 

"I think it's sweet," Melissa finally said, never lifting her head from the article.  "I mean, it _is_ the truth, Abe.  And it's not like they're saying anything bad about us."

"Well..." he relented, "but what if it, y'know, blows our cover?"

Norbert laughed at this.  Of all the Thunderbolts, MACH-1 seemed tobe the most defensive of his new identity.  Maybe that was because hehad the most to lose if it ever went sour.  His old persona, the Beetle, was a multi-time loser, but now he was a champion of champions, and apparently a media darling.  If this sort of thing kept up, he'd have to hire a press agent by the end of the year.  Norbert patted him on the shoulder and clicked his tongue.  "You wear armor, Abe," he said gently.  "Unless you two start making out in public, there's nothing to worry about." 

"Oh, yeah.  Right.  I don't know, I guess I'm not used to all this scrutiny."

"Well, I kinda like it," Melissa said.  "It's not often I get to date a public figure." 

They started making kissy faces at each other, and Norbert decided to cut to the chase.  "Listen," he said, "I need a favor.  Are you guys doing anything today?" 

"No," Melissa answered. 

"It's Sunday, Techno.  That's the point," Abe added.  "I was thinking about running some diagnostics on my MACH-1 suit, maybe watch some football.  You know, nothing big." 

"And we're doing some research for a field trip," Melissa added. 

"Is that what all this is?" Norbert asked, waving a hand over the paperson the coffee table. 

"Yeah, the National Air and Space Museum invited us to come down for thededication of a new wing," Melissa said.  "Typical publicity affair. Say a few words, some aerobatics stunts, ribbon cutting, nothing major." 

Again, Norbert couldn't help but chuckle to himself.  Time was whenall of that would have been a big deal for her.  It was he who outfitted her with sonic powered wings, and for a while that seemed like a mistake, since she was immediately terrified to use them.  With a little coaching from Abe, she'd since become a lot more confident about using her powersas Songbird.

"But what were you gonna ask?"  Abe reminded him. 

"Well, the Ba-er-Citizen V, asked me to keep Hallie out of his hair while he's working today.  I was hoping to pass the buck along to somebody else.  Interested?" 

They looked at each other and at last Abe turned back to him.  "Ahhh... I don't think that'd be such a great idea, Techno.  I haven't been too high on C.V.'s hit parade since that whole Spider-Man fiasco.  If it's all the same to you, I'd rather not risk digging any deeper."

Norbert sighed.  He knew what being in hot water with Zemo meant, and he knew there wasn't any point pushing the matter with him.   Songbird either, since she and Abe had been inseparable since they'd moved into Four Freedoms.  So that left him with one last hope.

"Hey, why don't you ask Karla?" she asked.  "I bet she'd love to take Hallie off your hands." 

Norbert nodded in agreement.  She'd better, he thought.

[METEORITE]

"No, I won't do it." 

"What do you mean you won't do it?" Norbert asked in astonishment. He was pacing back and forth in the quarters of his teammate, Karla Sofen,the criminal psychologist currently called Meteorite.  Her powers hadgiven her the ability to transform her costume at will, and since joiningthe Thunderbolts, she had designed a flashy red and orange uniform. Even now, off duty and in private, she was wearing it, which prompted himto wonder if it was more comfortable than it looked.  "You're the onewho won't go more than a few hours a day without seeing the kid.  Helpingher decorate her quarters, those late night gab sessions--and don't presumeto think I don't know you're talking about me, by the way--I mean, why _wouldn't_you jump at the chance to spend some more quality Mother Hen time with Hallie?"

Karla Sofen crossed her arms and smirked.  "Because I think she needs to spend more time with the other members of the team, that's why," she replied clinically.  "I've already explained this to everyone before, Techno.  The best thing for Hallie is for one of us to focus on her emotional well-being, and I've taken up that responsibility."

Norbert rolled his eyes, but she continued in spite of this.  "However, it falls to the rest of you to support her, get her to feel used to us, and give her a sense of family.  If I'm going to be her 'mother figure'as you put it, then I'll need the rest of the Thunderbolts to play the fathers and brothers and aunts.  Is that so much to ask?"

"Oh, come off it, Karla," he snapped.  "We all know this isn't evenremotely related to our master plan!  That 'family' crap may fly withAbe or Melissa, but I can read your psychobabble like a poorly encryptedpassword record, and it's just as repetitive."  

He smirk emerged as a full fledged smile.  "Well, then why not simply kill her off, Techno?" she purred.  "You're the big bad super-villain you say you are, I think you can handle it." 

He snorted a laugh. "Sure, right.  And while Citizen V reprimands me for the next century, you can buddy up to him and come up with clever little ways to punish me some more.  I don't think so, Karla.  Maybe you think you can get away with murder, but when I sign on for a job, I do it to the letter.  That means Jolt stays alive until two seconds afterthe Baron says otherwise.  Simple as that."

"Well, then," she conceded, "I suppose your mind's made up, then." 

"Does it show?" he asked, stroking his ghoatee in satisfaction.

"All right, Techno, you win.  If you won't follow along with my plans for Hallie, I guess it's up to me.  Maybe it's better off that I handle things more... personally."

He glared at her accusingly.  "What are you talking about?  What 'plans'?"

Her sharp-edged mask did nothing to betray the look in her eyes, but herlips told the whole story.  "I already told you, Techno.  I knowyou don't buy into my 'family crap', but I really mean to see Hallie raisedright among the Thunderbolts.  Now _you_ might not believe me, but--"

"Oh, no you don't!"  he broke in, aiming an itchy index finger at her.  "You don't fool me, Karla. Not for a second.  You just want me to stay away from Jolt so as not to risk whatever it is you've got in mind for her.  What's the matter, Meteorite, afraid I might loosen that little finger you've got wrapped around her?" 

"Please, Techno," she said, absent-mindedly playing with a length of herblonde hair.  "It's nothing like that, really.  I just wouldn'twant to see you give her the wrong idea.  I mean, you seem to have ahard time keeping our heroic codenames straight.  I'd hate for you toaccidentally blurt something out in front of her and expose our master plan..."

"Or maybe something about what a manipulative witch you can be, hmm?" Norbert added.  "Well, I guess you'll just have to trust me then, won't you, Karla?" 

Her features returned to a more solemn demeanor.  "What do you mean?" she asked.  "You're not actually going to take her along, are you?"

"Looks like I don't have much choice, do I?" he sneered.  "I'd be atotal fool to leave her here with you, now wouldn't I?" 

With that, he turned on one heel and made his way out the door.  "Nice try, Karla," he said without turning around, "but you'd better take yourlittle dime store headshrinker act somewhere else.  Ta-ta!"

The door slid shut behind him and he grinned from ear to ear.  It could be a wonderful thing to win an argument with a woman like Karla Sofen, and even if it meant letting the kid tag along after all, the look on her face alone had been recompensation enough.

[JOLT]

The look on his face was surely that of utter dread.

What did he know about looking after some kid?  It wasn't that he had anything against Jolt, and sure, she had come through in a pinch for himand the others.  But come on! 

Well, maybe she liked video games, he hoped.  Something to pass thetime.  With any luck, Zemo wouldn't have him do this for long.

He heard a rhythmic thumping against the door.  Norbert taped a finger on the comm panel on the wall.  "Hallie?  You in there?"

"Oh, hey, Techno.  Come on in," the chipper voice replied through the electronic speaker.  Steeling himself, he pressed the button that slid the door open and walked inside.  He was greeted with a small sphere that struck him right between the eyes. 

"What the--hey!" he cried as he instinctively brought his hands up a second too late. 

"Whoops, sorry," Hallie gasped as the ball went careening under her bed.  "I thought you were gonna catch that." 

"Some fair warning might have been nice," Norbert sulked, sitting on thebed next to her to massage his aching forehead. 

"What's the matter, Techno?"  she asked.  "Is something wrong?"

"Ah, nothing," he said.  "I just--" 

Oh swell, he thought.  What was he supposed to tell her?  The fascist world-beater wanted somebody to keep an eye on her?  He wanted to make sure the soap opera shrink didn't get her claws into her yet again?  Norbert wasn't about to give Moonstone the satisfaction, but she had a point about him being careless with the scam.  He'd barged right into this assignment without even considering a cover story. 

Which said a lot about the dynamic Jolt had introduced to the team.  Hallie Takahama was given super-powers by the mad geneticist Arnim Zola.  She escaped, seeking help to save the other unwilling subjects of his twisted experiments, but wound up stumbling onto the Thunderbolts instead. 

It had been Norbert who'd installed cameras to alert the media of their battle with Zola, and by the end, the press had found their favorite heroes standing side by side with a photogenic teenager.  And so Zemo let her join,if only because any other action would have seemed incongruous with the public perception he wanted to build.  The fact that she got along so wellwith the team was an added bonus. 

But it was a calculated risk.  If Hallie were to become privy to the Thunderbolts' true motives--or any of their secrets for that matter--shecould conceivably blow the lid off the whole caper without realizing it.And given how intimately familiar she'd become with the team, it was gettingharder and harder to remember that Jolt was really the least trustworthyThunderbolt of all. 

And that was saying something.  After all--

"Techno?" 

"What?!" he blurted out with a start. 

Hallie put her hand on his arm.  "Something must really be bugging you for you to be this quiet, huh?" 

"Excuse me?" he asked. 

"Well, don't take this the wrong way, but from what I've seen usually you're going on at a mile a minute!  You've barely said more than three words at a time since you came in.  What's on your mind?" 

He could have slapped himself.  He was so wrapped up in chiding himself for not outguessing Hallie that it hadn't even occurred to him that he was overthinking the matter.  She was a Thunderbolt.  This was herfamily.  For her, it was a simple as that.  Techno wasn't a superiorofficer making a snap inspection, he was a big brother with a load on hismind.  And, to be perfectly honest, that wasn't too far off.  Inhindsight, there were about a dozen ways he could have intercepted that Super-Ballwith his Tech-Pac.  He was just too wrapped up in himself to think ofthem. 

"Well, now that you mention it, I am kinda bummed out," he began.  "See..."  he paused to think of the best way to put this without blowing his cover.  "You know how there's more than one Yellowjacket?" 

"Oh, sure," Hallie replied.  "Hank Pym was the first, and then he retired the name after he started having mental instabilities that forced him off the Avengers.  The second one was Rita Demara, and she stole the costume for criminal purposes, but eventually reformed and joined the Avengers herself.  I can't remember if that was an honorary admission or not, though--"

"What I'm getting at is that there's a lot of name trading in the super-hero game.  Villains too," Norbert went on. "You'd need a scorecard to keep track." 

"Tell me about it," Hallie laughed. "I've been following the Avengers since I was a kid, and it gets pretty complicated from time to time."

"But it doesn't end there," Norbert said.  "Equipment, technology, all of it's fair game.  And I'm betting you've heard of a lot of Avengers' cases that started with some helpless scientist or inventor having his life's work stolen by some crook." 

"Now that you mention it--but what's this got to do with you?"  Jolt asked.

"Well, I just found out that there's a guy calling himself the Fixer," Norbert answered.  It was getting hard not to lay this on too thick, he noticed.  "And I think he's stolen some of my work." 

"Hey, I've heard of him!" Hallie said, her eyes lighting up.  "He used to work for the Masters of Evil.  You think he's hooked up with that new group the Crimson Cowl started recently?"

Wrong Masters of Evil, Norbert chuckled to himself.  He decided to play it simple.  "Beats me, Hallie.  I didn't even know he was partof the Masters... it might not even be the same guy.  But the pointis that one of my informants told me that he's been hiring himself out tocriminal organizations and using special devices to help their operationsrun smoother.  What makes it worse is that from the descriptions I'vegotten, some of his gear sound a lot like a few patents I made before I joinedup with the T-Bolts." 

"And this guy's using _your_ work to help break the law?!" Hallie cried.  "That's awful!  No wonder you feel so down.  Well, we can takethis to Citizen V, and I'm sure he'll want to--"

"No, I already tried that," Norbert sighed.  Whoever said half-truths made the best lies didn't know the half of it.  "He nixed the idea.  For one thing, it's pretty circumstantial evidence, so he can't really understand how personal this is to me.  And he's kind of a direct approach type.  As far as he's concerned, the best way to ferret this Fixer out is to put his clients out of business.  Which would be fine, except I just can't wait that long." 

"Yeah, that sounds like Citizen V," Hallie admitted. 

"Right.  Meantime, he doesn't want to commit manpower on a single investigation.  The Thunderbolts have bigger fish to fry you know?"

"Well, there's no reason to send _all_ of us, yeah."

"So that's what's bugging me," Norbert finished. 

"Well, why don't we handle it ourselves?" Hallie proposed.

"What?"

"We've got the day off pretty much, right," Hallie explained.  "AndCitizen V could spare the two of us for a little while, anyway.  I betwe could have the whole thing resolved by tonight!" 

Norbert rubbed his beard.  He knew he liked this kid for a reason.  "You know, that's not such a bad idea," he finally said.  "In fact... I'm feeling better already!"

***

He wasn't really obsessed with outside appearances.  Norbert Ebersol was a dumpy man whose best date ended with the lady telling him how dullhe was.  It didn't bother him... much.  As long as he had his skill and intelligence, he could find all the respect and admiration he wantedas an outlaw.  Given that, he never had any motivation to maintain hisappearance.  He never exercised, and he only kept as fit as he was thanksto a special device he had invented to tone his muscles for him.  Hewas bald, which meant he didn't have to fuss with his hair. 

Now, however, sitting behind the wheel of a cherry red hovercraft, with the wind blowing tufts of wavy brown strands behind him, he started to realize just how much he was enjoying it all.  Maybe it was just sour grapes.  Until the Thunderbolts, he'd never had any motivation to change his look.  Now, given a chance to revamp himself, he thought he looked like quite the lady killer.  He checked his reflection in the rear view mirror just to be sure.

Yep.  Still got it.

"I just noticed," the girl in the passenger seat said, "there's rear view mirrors in this ride.  What for?  You've got the radar equipment?" 

Well, he had improved, sure.   But seeing as the best he could do was a fifteen year old tag along, there was still a long way to go.  Hewondered if there were any Techno groupies by now. 

"Mostly for show," he answered.  "I built this little convertible number shortly after we moved into Four Freedoms.  Old car parts, atomic power cells.  Stuff I found lying around.  And of course, the city was thrilled to give us more special equipment that we could ever use. That's why C.V. had me put this baby in mothballs.  Wasn't practicalwith only four seats." 

"So he won't miss it while we're out, eh?"  Jolt chided.  "I still don't think it was a good idea to do this without permission, Techno.  If we'd asked, I'm sure--"

"He would have said no, Hallie," Norbert finished, rolling his eyes.  "Look, in the first place, I asked him once today, and in the second, it's not like you going with me would have convinced him.  C.V. likes you, Jolt, but the strategist in him still thinks of you as an unproven property.  Given a choice, he won't send you into action without a lot of consideration."

"Well, yeah," She admitted.  "But you're willing to take a chance on me, right?" 

"Sure, but I'm the devil-may-care gadget guy," he said.  "It's up to guys like V and Meteorite to keep me in line.  And you too, I guess."

"If we let them," Hallie smiled. 

"If."  He concentrated, and the Tech-Pac he wore around his upper body responded, shifting and changing it's components into a headset.  "Now, the first step is to make a little phone call.  According to my sources, this guy can be reached at 349-48-669."  The Tech-Pac responded to his command and dialed the number.

"What?  That's eight digits!  That can't be right," Hallie mused. 

"This guy's a technical wizard," Norbert replied.  "How hard would it be to hack into the phone lines and rig up an eight digit number?  Best of all, it makes a perfect contact for the underworld.  If you didn't know what the number was for, you'd never suspect it was for a telephone.  So nobody can accidentally stumble across it."

"So how did you?" Hallie asked. 

"That would be telling," he said.  Now that he thought of it, this would have to be a quiet operation.  Not only did he have to make sure Jolt didn't connect him too closely to the Fixer, but he had to keep his poker buddies from finding out as well. 

On the headset he heard the phone ring on the other end, and finally there was a click as it was answered.  "Hi, you've reached the Fixer!" itbegan, obviously a recording. "If you'd like to enlist my services for certain--extralegal activities, press one!" 

"Got a trace?" Jolt asked. 

"No," Norbert muttered.  "And the other ends a teleprompter.  Let's hope the recording lasts long enough..."

"If you have a question about a bill for previous services, press 2.  If you are attempting to trace this call, please stay on the line, and you will be killed shortly." 

Before Norbert could ask about that, the apparatus on his head crackled with electrical shorts and began retreating back into the rest of the Tech-Pac.  "What on earth--?!" he asked, stopping short as he realized he had been distracted from piloting the convertible. 

"Whooaa!" Jolt exclaimed as he put the vessel into a hard right turn to avoid the edge of a skyscraper.  "I'm starting to see why certain people shouldn't be allowed to have cell phones!" 

"He was prepared," Norbert said hurriedly.  "He was expecting someone to trace his line--which makes sense if he was giving out his number so freely.  Sent some kind of feedback into my tracking equipment!" 

"This guy _is_ good, huh?  So what do we do now?"

Norbert shook his head and willed the Tech-Pac into a new configuration,this time extending a mechanical arm holding a display screen.  "I saidhe was expecting it, Hallie, but he wasn't _prepared_.  Not for me,anyway, and that's a big difference.  Seems that he beamed a signalacross the connection, a viral contamination designed to knock out anythingmore sophisticated than an ordinary telephone.  _But_ that was likea beacon for my tracers, and it led them right to the source before my callwas so rudely interrupted."  He turned the display to Jolt.  "Righthere." 

"Viral infection?" Hallie asked.  "You mean like a computer virus?  But won't that mess up your Tech-Pac?" 

"Relax," Norbert assured, pointing his thumb at the machine on his back."Remember, this is as vital to me on the field as Citizen V's sword, or Atlas'sgrowing powers!  I take good care of it, so naturally it's stocked upwith the latest in cutting edge anti-viral software."

"If you say so," Hallie conceded. "So where is this place again?" 

***

He couldn't believe it.  He'd seen gall in his day--mostly from himself--but this was too much.  His last base of operations had been a house inAtlanta, Georgia.  He had secured it thoroughly when he had decidedto work with Baron Zemo long term on the Thunderbolts scam.  And now,somehow, the new Fixer had commandeered the place. 

"Man, can you believe this heat?" apparently, Jolt was just as incredulous.

"They don't call it 'Hotlanta' for nothing, Hallie," Norbert said. It had been a pretty warm summer in New York before they left.  In thesouthern United States, it was downright stifling.  "Look on the brightside, this is perfect weather going into a fight." 

She pulled the translucent goggles from her face and wiped the sweat from around her eyes. "How do you figure that?" 

"The convertible has solar panels," he replied.  "There's a master storage cell, and it hooks into the Tech-Pac.  Not to mention your own bioelectric powers are fueled partly by the sun.  So we'll be at full power when we get there." 

"If we don't melt first," she groaned. 

"Hang in there, Thunderbolt," he chuckled.  "You'll have all the action you can handle in a minute.  We're here."

He found the old house just where he left it.  On the outside, it appeared to be just another home in a residential area of the city.  Bushes,trees, and grass were the only defenses one could see. 

"Hmm.  Nice place he's got here," Jolt commented. 

Norbert set the convertible in the backyard and jumped out.  Nothing had been changed on the outside.  It was the inside that concerned him.  He approached the back door. 

"I want you to go around front and hit the doorbell," he told her.

"You smell a trap?" she asked. 

"Something like that," he said. 

She turned and proceeded to the other side of the house.  Once he was sure that Hallie couldn't see him, he pulled up a shingle next to the door to reveal a keypad underneath.  "Hmm..." he said to himself. "Now let's see if someone's been redecorating since I've been gone."  He unscrewed the face of the display and pulled a metal tube from his Tech-Pac. Carefully, he inserted it into a port inside the device. 

He could hear on the other side of the house as Hallie rang the bell andscreamed as the doormat gave way to a trap door.  If the visitor hadbeen deemed friendly, she would have been allowed to enter and find an elevatorjust inside the door.  At least, that was how he had built it. Hallie would be fine--at least he was relatively certain--and she would providean invaluable distraction while he hacked his way into the house's computers. Once the interior defenses were shut down, the so-called Fixer would be ather mercy--case closed.

At least, that was what he thought before the Tech-Pac began wrapping itself around him.  "H-hey!  What in--!?" was all he could say as themechanical array strapped itself around his arms like a straight-jacket,then fired eight thin spines into the ground.  These turned out to bea crude mode of locomotion, as the spines hoisted the man six feet into theair and began walking him into the back door as it opened itself to welcomethem. 

Norbert started swearing to himself under his breath, but as he noticed the decor, he had to admit that the house was largely unchanged.

***

"Well, well, well.  Look what the virus dragged in.  I've beenexpecting you...Techno, isn't it?"

Norbert stared at the man in front of him.  He was dressed the sameas the image on the card.  Green suit, with a belt and tunic lined with pockets and panels for technology.  His helmet was a variation on the design he had used, and the only part of his face it hadn't covered was the smug sneer on his lips. 

"Paul Norbert Ebersol, alias the Fixer," Norbert said contemptuously.  Things had gotten out of control the second his Tech-Pac had turned on him.  Now he had to fall back the basic necessities, and that meant insuring the Thunderbolts deception wasn't at risk.  Step one was to make sure the Fixer didn't know who Techno really was. 

His captor sat in a lounge chair and leaned back to relax.  "I suppose you've read the reports and did your homework like a good super-hero should, eh?  Well, I'm afraid that was a waste of time.  You see, I'm not really the same Fixer who did all those things.  I didn't escape from prison by forming a crude laser out of a light bulb.  I didn't cripple S.H.I.E.L.D. for a good hour or so.  I didn't break into Avengers Mansion and brutalize its inhabitants.  No, I'm the new Fixer.  And I didn't do those things, because I plan on doing even bigger things to prove myself to the world.  So you'd better get ready to read a lot bigger report the next time you peruse through your files." 

Norbert chuckled.  "Big time, huh?  Like wasting state of the art equipment on a two-bit illegal weapons shipment?  Why didn't you just bribe customs and save everybody a lot of time and money?  Or are you that desperate for clients?" 

"I'm that driven, Thunderbolt," he replied.  "Reputations aren't built overnight.  That was why I stole this identity.  It wasn't that difficult to track down the Fixer's old haunt.  And once I discovered that he'd been out of sight for several months, I realized that this wasthe perfect opportunity to take over his operation.  My only regretis that he was much less ambitious than I would have preferred." 

"Why?  Because he didn't leave flashy business cards and toll-free numbers for people to beat down a path to his door?" Norbert asked.

"Oh.  Those.  Actually, that was bait for a very elaborate trap.  I knew that if the real Fixer ever discovered what I was doing, he'd naturally come back here to reclaim his identity.  From there, it would be a simple matter for me to overwhelm him, and take even more of his technological wonders in addition to what I've already found in this house.  Let me show you..."

He touched a button on the arm of the chair, and a projection appeared on the far wall.  Norbert watched as the image displayed Jolt as she slid into the room, and found herself surrounded by a gang of strange troll-like creatures. They lunged after her, and her super-human agility was quickly put to use, dodging their lumbering attacks and striking back when the opportunities arose. 

"Genetic engineering?" Norbert asked.  That wasn't really part of his resume. 

"A pet project of mine," he replied.  "But since exploring the Fixer's trinkets I've found a way to make the troll-beasts more effective. Watch."  He pressed another button and spoke into it a single word:"Tigger". 

Suddenly, the trolls seemed to double in speed and reflexes, and their moves became far more deliberate and effective.  The change very nearly took Jolt by surprise, and for a few moments she seemed to be in considerabledanger. 

"You see, I found a great deal of martial arts videos," he explained.  "And subliminal programming devices.  It was a simple matter to teach the trolls how to imitate those moves, and unleash that training when I give the code word.  It's a small application, but I'm just getting started.  I _was_ expecting the Fixer, but your friend here should be a nice compensation.  I can find all sorts of enjoyment in testing out weaponry on her super-powered constitution..." 

"And what about me?" Norbert demanded.  "Unless you plan on hangingcoats on me up here." 

"It had occurred to me that one of your kind might attempt to find me aswell.  And seeing as you happen to be a tinkerer in your own right,I imagine I could find a use for your own toys." 

That pretty much settled it.  If this guy knew he was really the original Fixer, he wasn't letting on.  The rest would be up to Jolt now.  Already on the viewscreen he could see her holding up a small transceiver he had given her before they landed.

"You mean you plan on making off with the Tech-Pac, huh?"  he said,trying to distract him for a few more seconds. 

"I already have, friend," the faux Fixer gloated.  "And once I've figured out how to use it, it'll be child's play to add that convertible of yours to my collection." 

Norbert saw her leap clear of the trolls and press the red button on thedevice.  He looked back at the Fixer and grinned.  "Well, the firstthing you might want to know before you take it for a test-drive... is justwhat it converts into!"

Before the Fixer could react the entire edifice shook to its foundations.  He leaped out of his chair and activated the security cameras at the front door.  A holographic display showed a hulking twenty foot robot straddling the doormat outside.  With ease it bent over and tore the trap dooroff it's pneumatic rails and tossed it aside like so much garbage. Then, positioning one hand over the opening, it stood in place until a pairof little hands clad in black and yellow reached up and grabbed hold of it. 

"Escaping?!  But--" the Fixer objected.  Suddenly the front door was blown in with a blast of energy. 

"Nice roommates you've got here, Fixer," Jolt shouted as she rushed inside.  "But I think that doorbell of yours is gonna need some work!"

The robot began forcing its way in as well, only to be met with laser fire from every direction.  It was beginning to look like a stalemate onthat front.  Jolt, however, was having better luck. 

"You might have escaped from my holding cell, Thunderbolt," the Fixer admitted, "but I still have your partner, and I can still finish you off."  He drew a futuristic firearm from his weapons pack, but Jolt simply ducked to one side, then kicked it away from his hand when she was close enough. 

"Yeah, I guess your defense systems think the same thing, Fixer," Jolt said, while leaping and tumbling around the man in green, looking for an opening.  "Think that the robot is the real threat, so they focus on it and leave me alone!  Well, let me show you something, mister--you may be pretty sold on all your gadgets and doo-dads--but there isn't a thing in this house that can stop me!  Not while I can do _this_!"

Finally, she grabbed the flanks of his weapons pack and a burst of yellow energy crackled from her hands.  The Fixer screamed, but in secondsit was all over.  He fell to the ground and smoke wafted up from hisbody.

"Nice work, kid," Norbert congratulated her.  "Now, you think you could give me a little of the same over here?"

Hallie smiled and looked up at him.  "Thanks, but how on earth did you get in this mess?"

"I guess my Tech-Pac wasn't as well protected as I'd hoped.  I was sort of expecting it to return to normal when you put down our humble host, but no such luck.  A quick electrical surge should at least get me down." 

"But what if I damage it," she asked.  

He sighed.  "Oh ye of little faith.  I was looking for something to do tonight anyway." 

She chuckled and put her hands on two of the spindly legs of the Tech-Pac and once again, the bioelectric jolt did the rest.  The Tech-Pac buckled and loosened, and Norbert slid free and clear to the floor. 

"Ah, not bad for a day's work?  Not that it went _quite_ the way I'd planned, but who can argue with success, eh?"

"Counting your chickens before they're hatched, are we?" 

The two Thunderbolts turned to see the Fixer getting up again... and flickering.  "Oh, you may have irreparably damaged my image inducer, stripling, but that hardly means I'm defeated."  At last the Fixer image dissipated, revealing a much different figure wearing the shorted out weapons pack.  "What's the matter?  I figured you heroes got a kick out of seeing the villain unmasked.  Don't you like my face?" 

Norbert swallowed hard.  He was a she.  She was now decked in what appeared to be a lavender bathing suit with matching gloves and boots.  Oh, and one other minor detail.  She had a shiny red sphere where her head should have been.  It was more than enough to identify her conclusively.  "Ruby Thursday," he groaned. 

"Yes, Ruby Thursday, fool!"  she cried, although how was anyone's guess.  "Not that the name as met with any real acclaim!  But that will soon change, once I've destroyed the two of you!"

Norbert was about to act, but Hallie shoved him aside.  "Stand back, Tech!" she ordered. "With your Tech-Pac out of commission, you're helpless against this... lady."  Before he could argue, she was already jumping after the bizarre woman.  "It took me a minute to remember the name, Ruby.  I read somewhere that you fought the Wasp, Moondragon and Hellcat in Las Vegas, but you had some monster giving you a hand at the time.  And seeing how you never popped up in the news since then--well, I figure that makes you something of a pushover now!
 
Her lunge for Thursday was cut short as a crimson tentacle swatted her away like a gnat.  Jolt went crashing into a control panel.  "Idiot!  As if media coverage were proportional to ability!  Fermi was just as instrumental to nuclear physics as Einstein, but the public chooses to acknowledge only the one with the ridiculous hair who stuck out his tongue for an insipid photo op!"  The tentacle retracted back into the sphere and a menacing pincer took its place.  Without hesitation, she turned it against Jolt and just barely cut her in two before she dodged. 

"Is that why you tried to pass yourself as someone else, Ruby?" Jolt asked.  "Because you couldn't hack the P.R. of a super-villain?" 

"Don't trivialize me, girl!  I am one of the finest scientific minds of this century!  I developed the organic plastic--developed and refined its computing power to the point where I could use it in lieu of my own head!  But I was ridiculed and overlooked for being a woman in a traditionally man's field!  So I became a 'super-villain', confident that I would be appreciated for my ability rather than my sex or appearance, but it was more of the same!" 

Jolt was doing pretty well against the pincer, but a second one started emerging from Thursday's head, and now she was starting to get boxed in.

"My head represents the ultimate marriage of organic material and artificial technology!  I've held my own against the Hulk with its power!  But time and again it was incompetents like the Fixer who received offers to join the Masters of Evil, or lucrative contracts to develop special weapons for criminal organizations like HYDRA and A.I.M.  Well, once I reveal myself to the world as the woman who defeated two of the famous Thunderbolts, everyone will have no choice but to take notice of what I can do!"

Norbert stood up and watched the battle unfolding before him.  He'dheard of Ruby Thursday, just as Jolt had.  And he'd heard of the organicplastic she'd used, and the computing power it possessed.  That gavehim an idea.  Standing behind Ruby, he signaled Jolt by twirling hisfinger in the air.  If this would work, she'd have to keep Ruby busylong enough for him to set it up. 

"Two?" Jolt taunted.  "Way I see it, you've still got your hands full with just the one of me!"  Apparently, she got the message.  Ruby thankfully played into his hands.  Jolt was fast enough to evade her so far, but he'd have to work quickly just the same.

Norbert ran out the back door, scooping his ruined Tech-Pac into his arms as he went, and raced around the house to the front door.  It occurred to him that this was probably the longest he'd ever been on the lawn at one time--but with all the renegade gadgets inside, this was the safest place to be at the moment.  He stopped just inches away from the convertible robot, deadlocked as it strained its motors to advance past the internaldefenses of the house.  It was a critical distraction, since all ofthat ordinance would be turned against Jolt without the robot to pose a greaterthreat.  But given Ruby's focused mad-on for Hallie, it was tellingthat she didn't simply reach out to the weapons with the remote controlsof her computer head and finish the girl in one quick stroke. 

And when Jolt zapped her, cutting out her image inducer, the Tech-Pac remained in the configuration she had put it in.  Telling indeed. 

He carefully approached the robot from behind so as not to catch a strayrepulsor ray, and flipped open a panel on its back.  Pressing a fewbuttons on the computer display on the inside, he quickly pulled loose afew wires from the Tech-Pac and plugged them into the robot's backside. 

An eternity later, the display informed him that the virus program infecting the Tech-Pac had been extracted and copied into the convertible's database.   Norbert read the multitude of lines that represented programming code for the virus, and he quickly isolated the piece he wanted. 

"Hmmmm... not bad, but I think there's some room for improvement.  Open directory Programs/biomodem/subroutines/proselyte.exe, and display," Norbert ordered.  The computer obeyed, and a second column of programming code appeared.  He ran a finger down this new one and tapped the first twice to cut and paste, and then hit the "execute" button to run the modified virus.  Norbert then backed away from the robot and waited. 

It didn't take long.  The hulking machine suddenly stopped its efforts and simply tore open the wall surrounding the doorbell.  Finding a mess of wiring underneath, it opened one of its hands and a shifting mass of small tools emerged, cutting open the wires and connecting them to the robot itself.  The defense systems pounded away as before, but then suddenly stopped and stood down. 

Satisfied with his handiwork, Norbert sidestepped the convertible and sauntered into the building.  There he found Jolt was having better luck against its current occupant. 

"--Get you..." Ruby gasped, bringing her claws to bear for another attack.  This time, however, she was beginning visibly slow down.  "I--I--"

Jolt held out her hands in a defensive position, but after a few secondsshe relaxed as her face twisted in concern.  "What's going on?" sheasked. 

"I think she's gotten a little too busy to keep playing, Jolt," Norbert chuckled.  Thursday collapsed to her knees and fell over on one side. The crustacean appendages from her head fell limply to the floor as well.  "What.... what have you done... to me?" she asked in a low moan.

"I gave up," Norbert explained coyly.  "You can have the house, Ruby.  My Tech-Pac, my ride, all of it.  I did a little editing on that virus that you use to blow up phones and I found it lets you control hardware from that big red marble of yours.

"So I figured that your organic plastic computer must be pretty sophisticated to run the functions of the human body--to duplicate the operations of your original brain.  There's even enough RAM for those shape changing tricks of yours.  So I thought I'd just fix it so the house is under your direct mental control, and everything it can interface with--well, it'll infectit with the virus too, and so on, etc." 

"Wait," Jolt asked, "wouldn't that give her control of everything eventually?" 

"Oh, certainly," Norbert laughed.  "But not the way she'd want it.  See, Ruby used her head to interface with the Fixer's house, but she couldn't control it directly without slowing down her other bodily functions.  So she just reprogrammed it to obey her commands but to carry out its original programming otherwise. 

"Buuuut," this was the part he enjoyed, explaining it to the masses, "Ruby's just like any other computer. The more tasks it has to handle the slowerit runs.  By switching her virus to patch computers _directly_ to hermind, I've pushed her computing power further than it's used to.  Bychanging the virus so infected systems are compelled to _spread_ it, theeffect will only get worse."

He turned his attention to Ruby.  "So what's it gonna be, Thursday?  Right now you're in control of the house, the convertible, and my Tech-Pac, and you can't raise a lobster claw to stop us.  In... oh, I'd say half an hour, you'll be hacked into the Atlanta airport terminals and you're kidneys will start to fail.  Not that I _want_ to play good cop/bad cop, but you'd make it a lot easier on yourself to just power down to sleep mode and let us show you a nice room in Seagate..."

Whatever part of Ruby's sphere was responsible for her speech was slurred but still audible.  "Eeeeeeenouuughh... yooouuuu winnnn... forrrr...."

"Y'know, seeing how it takes you that long to say it," Hallie quipped, "I think I can live with 'for now'." She nudged Thursday's right arm with her toe.  "How do we know when she's...?"

"On standby mode?"  Norbert pointed at the convertible robot, now standing at attention waiting for its next command.  "Like I said, the edited virus put things in Thursday's thrall.  With her inactive, they'll all resume normal operation until she's back online.  Plenty of time for us to get her properly restrained for the authorities so I can safely administer the counterprogram."  He smiled at her warmly.  "Not bad for a'helpless' guy, hmm?"

She snickered in reply.  "Heh, sorry about that back there.  Iguess I'm still used to guys like Citizen V who rely on their physical training, or Atlas with a power that doesn't turn off.  After all this, though, it'll be a long time before I underestimate you again!  That was great!"

He looked around at the battle-scarred surroundings of what had once been his home, and back at the sincere admiration in Jolt's eyes.  "Yeah, it was, wasn't it?" he beamed. 

***

The loose ends were just that--nothing serious or time consuming.  Apparently several law-enforcement agencies had devised a way to humanely imprison Ruby Thursday years ago.  They had just been waiting all this time for someone to successfully capture her.  Ironically, since she had abandoned the scientific community to demonstrate the power of her invention, the technology she had used has long since become obsolete.  Norbert hadn't paid much attention to what the FBI did, but apparently it involved locking out most of her computing power with passwords and encryption programs, leaving her with just enough to keep her body functioning. 

Needless to say, the authorities were thrilled that the Thunderbolts hadsucceeded--if only so they could test their new toy.  It would makethings easier when he would inevitably have to explain things to Zemo. As a rule, most transgressions within the team were forgivable as long asthey brought about good press.  Of course, he'd still be upset for goingafter the "Fixer" outside of his precious timetable, but he who hesitates...

At the moment, it was Jolt's approval that was making all this worth it.  He'd come here to save his name from someone else, and now he was holding a detonator set to destroy his entire house, all for the sake of the scam. 

"--just too dangerous to let the police in there!" Hallie explained to the members of the media gathered around the two of them.  "We convinced them to let us take care of the Fixer's hideout and make sure no one else tries to use his weapons for personal gain!" 

It was the price he'd paid for bringing her in on this, he realized.  If he had taken down Thursday on his own, he'd have kept the police out of it, and the contents of his estate would be halfway back to New York by now.  Of course, he had to admit that Jolt had held up her end of the collaboration, and if it hadn't been for her, he might not have survived this entire affair.  So when she suggested destroying the entire place as a safer alternativeto impounding all the devices inside, he reluctantly agreed to let her haveher way.  If nothing else, it would prevent anyone from discoveringsome connection between Fixer and the Thunderbolts.  And Jolt had apoint.  He should have cleaned out this old dump before he became Technoin the first place.  It was nothing more than a liability now, and besides,the Thunderbolts was quickly becoming far more satisfying to him than anythingthe old house had offered. 

"All set, Techno?" Hallie asked him in between signing autographs and answering questions. 

"Hmm? Oh, yes.  I just wanted to make sure everyone's cameras were in working order." 

She cocked an eyebrow under her translucent red eye piece.  "Well, shouldn't we be moving these people out of harm's way?" 

"And make them miss the show?" he asked coyly.  "Nonsense!  I put up a force field around the offending house after I rigged up the charges inside.  Figured it'd be the best way to demolish it thoroughly without hurting any of the surrounding property.  All we have to do now is sit back and..." he clamped his thumb onto the red button, sending a remote signal that was instantly responded with the flash of combustion and the violent snap of rapidly expanding gases.  As if by magic, the wave of destruction ended exactly twenty feet from the walls of the building.  The crowd of onlookers didn't even feel the slightest increase in temperature.  Even the noise was muffled by the field." 

Already the fire department was preparing to move in on the rubble as the fires inside died off.  "I wouldn't worry too much, gentlemen," Norbert said cheerily.  "The oxygen in the force field is long gone, so you'll just need to hose the entire place down to cool it off after I deactivate it."  Now he turned to the reporters, drinking in their awe.  "Folks, all I have to say is that the _real_ Fixer--wherever he may be--better take notice of what the Thunderbolts can do!"  He took Hallie's hand andshook it firmly.

Oh, there'd be hell to pay for all this.  Zemo liked his good PR, but he'd probably have to take issue with two Thunderbolts speaking for the team without his knowledge... but Norbert didn't care. 

No, he was satisfied to let Jolt have her moment.  She'd supported him more than anyone else on the team had, so why not let her play the superhero game for a little while.  Sham or not, she was enjoying herself andit was the least he could do.  "What do you say, kid?" he asked. "Ready to head home for some downtime?"

Her face reflected the daring grin on his own face.  "Hey, it's still light out.  I'm sure we can find some action when we get back to New York, right?"

He nodded.  Definitely, he knew he liked this kid for a reason.

THE END.