The Beetle and the Beast!

Dynamic Disclaimer: This story features the Defenders who are all trademarks of Marvel Comics. This is an unauthorized work and no profit is being made on this work. This story is copyright of me. Download this story if you like, but please don't archive it without my permission. Don't be shy.

 Continuity Note: This story takes place between DEFENDERS #124 and #125.
 
 

Abner Jenkins lay in his cot.  He had been back in prison for only a few
days and he was already sick of it.  He hated prison.  Well, that was the
general idea, he supposed.  But he still hated it, no matter how obvious
the notion was.  

It wasn't so much the confinement.  There were times when he found the
relative isolation relaxing.  Many of his armor refinements had been
inspired on lonely  nights just like this one.  No, the most stinging
thing about incarceration was the sense of defeat.  Every sentence he
served was an echo of a failed plan, a misstep in a carefully laid out
scheme, a small error in judgement in the heat of battle.  Each stay was a
monument to just how big a loser he really was.

This stay was no different.  All he could think about was how he had been
a total idiot to join the Masters of Evil.  Egghead had promised him
money, power respect--all the things people promised him when they wanted
to get his attention.  Instead it wound up as a big ego play for their
glorious leader.  For all his posturing, Egghead's master plan was a
simple revenge ploy: Ruin the reputation of Hank Pym, then recruit him for
the Masters of Evil.  Then pray he didn't turn on them. Stupid, stupid,
stupid.  

Abner had learned the hard way that revenge ploys never work the way you
want them to.  Not long ago he had found out that the Thing had been
checked into a hospital, and he decided to take the opportunity to pay
back the big dumb freak for the way he humiliated him back when he was
first starting out.  Simple right?  Too simple.  Everybody and his uncle
got the same idea, and it wound up devolving into a superhuman war zone. 
From then on, Abner had tried to keep his emotions from getting in the way
of his work.  It wasn't always easy, but he was trying.

Not that Egghead would ever benefit from his shining example.  No, he
actually went through with his inane plan, and got himself killed in the
process.  And Egghead's team?  Well, the others could hang, but Abner was
captured in short order by the Avengers, and he'd been stuck here ever
since, reminiscing over the loss.  Nice piece of work, Egghead.  Bad
enough he had to get himself dead, he had to drag down everybody else
too.  And now Abner Jenkins could enjoy lunch on a steel tray and public
showers instead of all that money and respect he had been offered.  

And that had been the summary of his thoughts for the last several days. 
Constantly replaying events in his head.  Abner realized that his first
mistake had been to even get involved with the Masters in the first
place.  And now he was paying for that lapse in judgement. He hated
prison.  

And so when the wall of his cell blew apart, Abner wasn't quite so much
shocked as relieved.  Clearly this was either an escape attempt or an
attack, and either one would take his mind off of matters.  Still, he put
a pillow to his head to shield himself from the debris.  

"Come with me!"  the man said.  He had stepped through the hole and
extended a hand to Abner.  Abner remembered that his cell was at least
five stories up.  

"How did you get up here?" he asked.  Of course, there was probably a
reasonable explanation for that.  After all, in his Beetle armor, Abner
could easily have accomplished this.  But if this unassuming man in street
clothes had super powers, he wasn't telling.  

"No time for that.  We have to get out of here."

"But my armor," Abner objected.  The police probably had it in some
evidence storage somewhere.  He didn't like the idea of leaving it behind.


"I've already taken care of that.  Now let's go."  

Now he knew he had no choice.  It was either freedom, or he'd be stuck in
this hole wondering what this nut was doing with his armor.  Abner took
his hand.  The next thing he knew, he was holding on for dear life as the
man leaped out of the hole and began floating away, suspended by a helium
balloon.  

It was probably another crackpot offer, Abner thought, as they floated
over the search lights.  Another agenda, like Egghead's quixotic revenge
plot.  Still, all things considered, this guy had already given him more
than Egghead ever had.  
  
***

Hank McCoy was laying peacefully in bed.  It was one of those lazy
Saturday mornings that you just had to sit back and take in.  Well, it was
actually a lazy Saturday afternoon, but that was pretty much the same
thing, only you watched golf instead of cartoons.  Zen prevailed.

At least, until the giant talking head showed up.  "Hank!"  it boomed
while materializing over his bed.  

Hank raised his head and peeked over the covers to see who was calling
him.  The voice had been familiar but the image certainly wasn't. 
Shocked, Hank instinctively pushed his body away from the intruding
visage, and in doing so, bumped his head against the headboard.  

"Are you all right?" the giant talking head asked.  Hank rubbed his aching
skull and squinted his eyes.  Finally he screwed up the courage to open
them.   

And there before him floated the disembodied head of his old comrade, the
Vision.   Only one reply could be appropriate.  "Oh, my stars and
garters!"

At once the Vision realized his mistake.  "My apologies, Hank.  I did not
intend to startle you."  

"Uh... no, that's OK, Vizh, old bean," Hank stuttered.  "I must have hit
my cranium a little harder than I thought, though.  I could have sworn
that I saw your translucent detached noggin floating in front of me!  But
that's just-"  he looked again, only to find out that he hadn't imagined
it.  

"Again, I must apologize," the Vision said.  "I had neglected to inform
you of my condition.  Since I sustained recent injuries while aiding the
Avengers, I have linked my systems to the computers of Avengers Mansion
and Titan's I.S.A.A.C., in order to facilitate my recovery.  As a
side-effect, I have become able to project holographic images of myself
throughout New York."  

"Uh-huh," Hank replied.  He was still shaking the cobwebs.  "Oh!  I got it
now!  You're still back in the Mansion.  So I take it you're on the road
to recovery?"

The head nodded on a nonexistent neck.  "My self-repair is proceeding
quite well now that I have regained consciousness. However, I am afraid 
that I have projected this image for more important reasons than a mere
social call."

Hank sat up in his bed.  "Just as long as you don't tell me that I'm going
to be visited by three spirits," he warned.  "I gave at the office."

The Vision paused for a moment.  "Ah, yes.  Most amusing.  I admit that I
have found people's reactions to my holograms very interesting."  

"Anyway, do I take it that you're looking to call in some reserve
Avengers?" the Beast asked.  It had been a while since he had served
alongside the Vision on that team, but he knew that they might call him
back to duty if they needed his assistance.  

"Actually," the Vision answered, "This is more of a Defenders matter.  I
considered contacting Patsy Walker, but I remembered that she had recently
left your ranks."

"Right.  So what's up, Vizh?   You wouldn't be reconsidering that offer I
made you and the missus to join up with our merry band, by any chance?"

"I am afraid not.  I have come to inform you that there has been an
unusual series of prison breaks in the last several days.  I have reason
to believe that they are related to the Defenders."  

Hank leaped out of the bed and balanced himself on one of the posts. 
"Yeah?  Related how?"

The giant head continued.   "Thanks to my interface with the Mansion
computers and Titan, I now possess immediate access to the Avengers
database and the sufficient computing power to cross-reference them in
seconds.  I noticed that the escapees were all related by a single file in
our computers, a case logged in by Patsy Walker."

Hank put the rest of the puzzle together.  "These guys were part of some
scheme from Patsy's days as Hellcat in the Defenders.  And like the good
little ex-Avenger she is, she sent in a report for you guys.  So what's
that got to do with us, now?"

"Of that, I am uncertain.  All I know is that the modus operandi of the
escapes were similar, and that the only connection between them lies with
the Defenders.  I tried to find more details in the logs but Patsy is-"

"-Patsy, I know," Hank finished.  The happy-go-lucky Hellcat was never one
for Avengers  protocol, like meticulous casefiles.  "Well, I'll ask around
but I'm not sure I can get you a lot of information, Vision.  We're not
the same Defenders from when that file was written.  Anyway, I'm sure the
Avengers can handle this..."

"I'm afraid not, Hank," the Vision broke in.  "I was hoping that the
Defenders could take care of this matter.  Since my interface with
I.S.A.A.C, I have been taking many measures to improve the efficiency and
effectiveness of the Avengers.  To that end, I would like to rely on other
groups of heroes to create a web of interdependency."

Now Hank was really confused.  "Ooooookaaaay.  Whatever floats your
proverbial boat, pal.  But I gotta tell you, the Defenders aren't exactly
seaworthy right now.  In fact, while we're on the subject of nautical
matters, I'll paraphrase a famous captain and tell you that the Defenders
are a disaster.  I don't even know where most of our gallant gang is right
now.  Are you sure you can't squeeze a little time into your busy
schedule?"

"I would appreciate it..." the Vision trailed off.  If he weren't a
synthezoid, Hank would have sworn he was begging. 
 
Hank frowned for a moment.   Finally, "Awww, how can I resist those big
holographic eyes, anyway?  OK, sugarplum, you talked me into it.   Fax me
Hellcat's logs and I'll see what I can do."

The Vision's features seemed to lighten.  "Thank you, Hank.   This means a
great deal to me."

"Just do me a favor and tell that wife of yours that the bouncing blue
Beast sends his love," Hank chuckled.  "And Vision?  Don't let all this
RAM go to your head."

"Oh... yes, of course," the Vision responded.  The head began to fade
out.  "Good-bye, Hank."

Hank McCoy frowned.  "Darn, darn, darn..."

***
 
Abner Jenkins flexed his fingers inside the gloves of his armor.  It felt
good to get back into his Beetle togs again.  It was a feeling of
security, and that was what he wanted after getting kidnapped from his
cell.  Whatever happened next, he was in a much better position to deal
with it.  

Apparently, his guess had been right.  Standing around him were four other
professional super-criminals.  One of them, Whirlwind, decided to strike
up a conversation.  "The Beetle, right?  I heard you were part of
Egghead's gang after I got busted."

That was putting it mildly.  Whirlwind made a pre-emptive strike against
Avengers Mansion before Egghead was ready to put his plan into motion. So
when he got captured, Egghead brought in replacements, people who he could
trust to be a little less... obsessive. "Yeah. You didn't miss much," he
muttered in reply.  

"Yeah, well whatever this is all about, I wanna get back on the streets as
soon as I can." He grinned under his helmet.  "Let's just say I got a
special lady waiting for me on the outside."

Abner rolled his eyes under his Beetle mask.  Whirlwind's delusional crush
on the Wasp was pretty widely known in prison circles.  He was one of the
least popular cellmates simply because he never shut up about her.  And
for some reason, Egghead thought Whirlwind's personal issues were
detrimental to the team, but his own were somehow useful for plotting
strategy.  He caught himself dwelling on the past, and he decided to try
to ignore Whirlwind.  

"So what's this all about anyway?" another man chimed in.  Electro,
judging from the colorful lightning bolt pattern of his costume.  "Some
guy just waltzed into Project: Pegasus and busted down my cell.  Anybody
know who he is?"

"Nobody I recognized," Abner answered.  "But then there wasn't much
remarkable about him.  He was just dressed in a shirt and blue jeans. 
Could be anybody."

"Brother, he ain't nobody," said another, the Porcupine from the looks of
it.  "I told him I wasn't interested in his little offer, and he just up
and knocked me out!  While I was wearing my armor."  He raised his arms to
illustrate the point.  Covered from head to toe in thick spines, he looked
more like a hay bale than a porcupine, but Abner agreed that he wasn't a
tempting target either way. 

"Your questions will all be answered soon, my friends!" shouted the man as
he came out from behind a stack of boxes.  Abner noted the empty
surroundings of this typical abandoned warehouse hideout.  Whoever this
was wasn't exactly an ingenious criminal mind.  He was half surprised that
the cops weren't waiting for them when they got here.  

"So who are you, and what's all this about?"  Electro demanded.  

"So... it seems you don't remember me," the man said, in a failing attempt
to build suspense.  "Well, perhaps this mask should help refresh your
memories.  Behold!" he said as he donned the mask.  "I am--the Meteor
Man!"

"The Looter," Abner sighed as the others stared on in disbelief.  The mask
was a dead giveaway.  He'd read enough old newspaper reports on Spider-Man
to recognize even a third rate crook like him.  

"No, Beetle," he corrected.  "I have changed my name to-the Meteor Man!  I
decided that it better reflects my abilities, since I gained them by
inhaling mysterious gas from a meteor!"  

"Fine," Electro said.  "So what's the deal, Meteor Man?  Why bring us all 
here?"

"In due time, Electro!  But first, I'd like to present the next man to
join our little meeting, Batroc!"  Indeed, the French master of savate was
waiting behind him to join the group.  

"Batroc, the Looter... wait, this is starting to fall into place..." Abner
mused.  

The final surprise came when a sixth man came from a back room.  "Did I
miss anything?" he asked.  Abner recognized him immediately.

"Plant-Man!?" he asked, dumbfounded.  "But you were in prison with me!  I
bumped into you on the way to my cell!  But why would you make two trips?"
he turned to ask Meteor Man.  

"Hey, that was all just one of my plans," Plant-Man answered.  "That guy
you saw in jail was a plant duplicate I set up so I could keep the law off
my back.  Anyway, I'd have really gone to Rykers' if the Meteor Man here,
hadn't busted me out of the prison bus."  The grateful man gestured to the
self-appointed master of ceremonies.  "So what's the deal?  You got some
kind of offer to make?"

Meteor Man was happy to answer.  "Indeed I do.  Gentlemen, I propose that
we reunite... the New Defenders!"

"Oh, swell..." Abner grumbled under his breath.

*** 

"The what?!"

"The 'New Defenders', Dolly," Hank answered.  "Or the 'Bogus Defenders' or
just the 'quote-unquote Defenders'.  Whatever makes the distinction
easier."

Dolly Donahue was still perplexed, Hank could tell.  "So there were super
villains in the Defenders, too?"

Hank sighed.  This whole thing was ridiculous and Patsy's poorly written
casefile hadn't helped things either. Neither was his trusty dog,
Sassafras, for that matter.  "As near as I can tell, the Defenders held a
recruitment drive a while back, and everybody in New York with a pair of
long underwear signed up.  Twenty, maybe even thirty people--down,
boy--Patsy's report doesn't specify."

Dolly nodded slowly.  "Go on."

"So apparently the recruitment drive was brought on by this TV documentary
on the Defenders, and a bunch of super-villains saw it.  According to
Patsy, they were trying to use the Defenders' name to create confusion and
panic.  When the police arrived on the scene of one battle, they very
nearly arrested everyone on the premises.  Sheesh, and I thought we had it
bad these days!"

"And now those particular criminals have been reunited?" Dolly asked.  

"Looks that way," Hank said, studying the printouts the Vision had sent
him.  "Or at least some of them."  He paused for a minute to address his
pet.  "I love you too, Sass, now get down!  Anyway, Patsy wasn't too
specific about who was who and where, but there were at least twelve
people in on this.  Only four have been accounted for. Of course, that
might have been just the four who happened to be incarcerated at the
time." 

"Twelve?!  Henry, how are we supposed to stop a dozen super-villains?" 
Dolly asked.  

Hank smiled at the elderly housekeeper of the Defenders' brownhouse. 
"Well, unless you're thinking of borrowing the Hellcat's bodystocking, I
think you're going to just have to sit this one out, champ!" he joked.  

"You know what I mean!"  Dolly prodded.

"Look, there's nothing to get upset about, Dolly.  I mean, I'll just get
in touch with some of the other Defenders and we'll be ready for
anything.  Let me see... Valkyrie is still MIA, right?"

Dolly nodded.  "I haven't seen her since she vanished in that flash of
light.  To be honest, I'm not sure if she was planning on coming back or
not."

"Then what about Dr. Strange?" Hank thought out loud.  

"I tried to call him a few days ago," Dolly said.  "Trying to find out if
he knew something about Valkyrie leaving.  All I got was his servant, and
he said that he didn't know where the doctor had gone either."

"Great," Hank said sourly.  "Well, Clea went to her home dimension a while
back... Devil-Slayer turned himself into the authorities... well that just
leaves me Bobby and Isaac!"  

"But Bobby told me he was going to look up some friends in town today,"
Dolly added.  "And I sent Isaac to get groceries... he said he was going
to take some time to himself, too!"

"And I've been hibernating all morning like Yogi Bear on Thanksgiving,"
Hank continued.  "Too bad the bad guys didn't get the memo about us
Defenders taking Saturday off."  

"Well," Dolly suggested, "maybe I ought to put a call in to Patsy and
Daimon.  Maybe see if they can help-"  

"No!" Hank objected. "That won't do us any good.  Besides, I don't want to
drag them all the way over from Future Marital Bliss, California to help
us out of a jam.  They left the Defenders, remember?  Let's let the little
lovebirds be."

"Yes, I suppose you're right," Dolly conceded.  "But what are you going to
do?  Won't the Avengers help you at all?"

"Calm down, Dolly," Hank said.  "It's not so bad, really.  If this is a
revenge plot, then it'll be against the earlier Defenders.  And they're
all safely out of the way, right?  It doesn't get much safer than the
mythical lands of Asgard or Valhalla or Frisco, right?"   

Dolly nodded slowly.  "That's true."

"And we've got nothing to worry about because they probably don't even
know who the current Defenders even are.  Assuming they'd even care, or
that this isn't just a random series of unrelated escapes."  Hank watched
as Dolly's worried features began to lighten.  

Of course that just made him wonder why the Vision even passed this along
to him in the first place.  This could simply be nothing at all, or a big
deal.  It didn't seem like the Vision to just pass the buck like that. 
"Besides, I don't want the Avengers to help.  Not unless they have to,
anyway.  I'm only doing this as a favor, and I want to show the Avengers
that we're a force to be reckoned with.

"So," he continued, "That just leaves the matter of me being cooped up in
here.  So what I'm going to do is scout the city and try to get some more
information.  I'm feeling a little restless anyway."  He jotted down some
addresses on a notepad.  "Here, if Bob or Ike come back, tell them to look
for me around one of these places."  

"You'll be careful, won't you, Henry?" Dolly asked.  

"Verily, milady," Hank replied, "Trust me, you have nothing to worry
about.  You happen to be looking at a distinguished alumnus of Professor
Xavier's School for Gifted Youngsters and Standardized Superhero
Nonsense.  I'll be back--in one piece--before you know it."  And with
that, he leaped out the nearest open window. "Just make sure that canine
o'mine goes on the paper!"

***

"That's a crock and you know it, Meteor Man."  Abner Jenkins was trying
very hard to keep those emotions of his from interfering with his work. 
"The 'New Defenders' was just a ploy by Libra and Sagittarius to preserve
some sort of cosmic balance.  They wanted 'bad' Defenders to even out the
'good' ones.  Not that that made any sense at all, but why would you want
to go and further their own crazy ideas?"  He was racking his brain trying
to figure out what was going on here.  The Looter was strictly small time,
and yet here he was, making four flawless jailbreaks, and now declaring
himself to be the grand master of a glorious scheme.  What had happened to
this guy?

"Yeah, actually, where are those guys?" Whirlwind asked.  "I remember some
other guys... Shocker, Boomerang, Toad.  What happened to them?"

"I saw no reason to include them, Whirlwind," Meteor Man said.  "Libra and
Sagittarius saw fit to split us into two squads, and I decided that ours
was the better one.  As for the two Zodiac members, I would have recruited
them, but I couldn't find them anywhere.  And as the Beetle points out,
they were a little preoccupied at that."   

"It's still a stupid idea!" Abner insisted.  He prided himself on keeping
up to date on his enemies, and their enemies by association.  He knew the
Looter had battled Spider-Man a few times, but he couldn't recall where
he'd last shown up.  Then again, his recent exploits may simply not have
been newsworthy.

"Why, Beetle?" Electro snapped.  "Are you trying to say that we don't cut
it as a team?  Look at us.  We've all had some experience with other
groups.  I've worked with the Sinister Six, you and Whirlwind were in on
the Masters of Evil bandwagon, Porcupine and Plant-Man here are longtime
partners, right?"    

"Ah-ah! Don't forget Batroc's Brigade," Batroc piped in.  "I am equally
familiar with the nuances of teamwork!  And as for our... rotund comrade
over there-"

With that, the Blob, silent until now, decided to join the conversation. 
"Yeah, I've been in on some teams.  What's the big deal, Froggy?"

"My point is that we've all had lots of experience with this sort of
thing," Electro continued.  "So instead of going back to all those other
groups, why don't we pool our experiences and form a new team?  Carve our
own niche in the underworld."  

Abner wasn't impressed.  "You're forgetting the Meteor Man, Electro.  He's
been a loner almost his whole career." That much he knew anyway. Other
than the motley crew before him, the Looter had never been part of
anything.  "How does he fit in to your grand scheme?"

"I have the vision, Beetle," Meteor Man replied in his own defense. 
"You're right.  The only team I ever worked with is right here.  But
doesn't that say something?  I saw the potential we had back then as we
battled the Defenders.  And I wanted to see that potential come to
fruition.  So what do you say, gentlemen?  Are you with me?"  

It wasn't a negative reply from the crowd, but then it wasn't exactly a
resounding "yes" either.  Still, Abner realized that he was the only one
against the idea altogether.  And Electro did make a few points.  

"All right," he finally said, "I'm in.  But we're still gonna have to
discuss what we're gonna do with this new team spirit."  He'd play along,
he decided, at least until he could figure out what was going on here.

***

"Look!" He noticed a woman on the sidewalk below shouting to her husband.
"Leon, it's some kind of gorilla swinging around on that flagpole!"

"A blue gorilla?" the man repeated.  "Must be some kind of animal act!  You
know how Letterman always does stuff out in the street to see how people
react."

Hank let that slide.  It was one of the perks of being a Defender that
everyone kind of forgot that he was a mutant.  Dolly once told him that he
was just about the most normal person she had met in the last year or so, 
and comparing himself to the Silver Surfer and Val, he could believe it.  
In the brownhouse on the Upper West Side of his heart, he was just Henry 
McCoy, gadabout of New York.

Besides, form a distance, he really did look and move a little like a blue
gorilla.  A talented one, at that.  What really got his goat was when he 
was once described as a flying bear.  That was simply ridiculous, and he 
actually singled out the onlooker and told him so.

Where had it all begun, Hank wondered.  He had been swinging around from
lamppost to statue to supermarket and so on for the last fifteen minutes.
Really, he hadn't been so much looking for crooks as much as he just wanted 
an excuse to get some fresh air and perspective.

It hadn't been all that long ago that he showed up at Dr. Strange's Sanctum
Sanctorum in Greenwich Village.  Then, he had just been looking for a way to
revive his girlfriend Vera from a catatonic spell brought on by a dose of
Skrull poison.  And in the end, thanks to the combined efforts of Strange 
and
Reed Richards, with a big assist by Daimon Hellstrom, Vera was indeed 
brought back from the brink.

After that, well, he just sort of hung around.  Not for any real reason.
Certainly, he had been grateful for the help he had gotten, and the 
Defenders were all a nice enough bunch of people, but he also felt a 
certain kind of sympathy for the group.  Where they had once been the jolly, 
care-free "non-team", they had become a battle weary support group with a 
big raincloud over their heads they couldn't quite shake.  Hank didn't know 
exactly how that had happened, but he did decide that he might try to help.

And so he had wound up working alongside them, sometimes by circumstance,
sometimes by request, all the while trying to lighten the mood and striving
to make everyone feel better about themselves.  And in the end, he became
like one of the family.  He never forgot the day that Val, Patsy, and Ike 
let him move in with them.  It was about as official a ceremony for joining 
the Defenders as there ever could be.

And for all his efforts, it still wasn't easy.  Strange had become very 
mopey over time, and probably for good reason.  Meanwhile, folks like 
Devil-Slayer, Hellcat and Daimon were able to finally find happiness, but 
they wound up leaving their friends in the process.

And then there was the little matter of his own problems, he considered as 
he performed a dizzying vault over a quaint little double-decker tour bus. 
While he was busy trying to turn the Defenders into his own little place in
this world, he had let Vera slip his mind, and finally she dumped him like
the heel he was.  There was probably some kind of quotable quote to describe
that irony, but he wasn't in the mood to think of it.  Determined to move 
on, he resolved to reform the Defenders into a legitimate team, something he
could depend on a little more.  And where had that gone?  Hank wasn't sure. 
At the moment, it seemed that every Defender there ever was had been wiped
off the face of the earth, and all he had left was a faithful housekeeper 
and an incontinent dog.

Oh, there was the venerable Robert Drake, his lifelong pal from the old 
X-Men days.  And Isaac Christians, a senior citizen transformed into a 
reluctant Gargoyle, was practically a Defenders mainstay by now.  But were 
they really Defenders?  Sometimes, he wasn't sure if Bob just hung around 
because he wanted to relive his glory days as Iceman along with his good 
buddy in the super-hero biz.  And the Gargoyle--well, it was his house!  
Hank was just living in it. Really how could he be sure that Isaac wouldn't 
be just as content living a quiet life making time with the housekeeper?  
They were friends, as good as friends could be, but would they continue to 
be Defenders?

He was really going to have to find some way to pin that down.  Hank made a
mental note to find out where he could get some Defender ID cards printed 
up. If the Hulk wanted to keep using it in his resume, he chuckled, then 
he'd just have to carry a wallet like everybody else.

His train of thought was suddenly interrupted by the sound of voices coming
from a nearby warehouse.  "Hel-lo," Hank said out loud.  He had finally 
come to a seedier part of town, a place where a lot of small time hoods had 
tried to eke out a life of crime.  "Nah, it'd be too easy," Hank said, 
thinking out loud. But then again, he decided, it wouldn't hurt to look.  
He crept up to the roof and, hanging by his prehensile feet on a gutter, he 
held his ear to a broken window and listened.

***

"Forget that," Electro said.  "I've had my fill of the Avengers, thank you
very much!"

"I'll go along with that," Abner agreed.  "They're just to powerful right 
now.  And to be honest I just don't have that much experience fighting 
them."

"Oh, please!" Batroc protested.  "Don't tell me that the famous Beetle is
afraid of the Avengers!  I have heard the tales of how you defeated Captain
America in combat!"

"Well, it's not Captain America I'm worried about," Abner said, trying to
play down the quasi-legend of his success.  Not that he minded his
reputation, but he didn't want the story to get old and forgotten either. 
"What I'm saying is that a lot of us have gotten our butts handed to us by
Avengers recently.  If we went after them again, they'd not only be ready 
for us, they'd be expecting us. Besides," he added, if only to get under 
Batroc's skin, "you could never come close to beating Flag-boy.  What makes 
you want to take on his whole team?"

Batroc was livid.  "Gutter swine!  What honor is there in your victory?  
You and your insufferable armor!  I would take a dozen of my worthy losses 
to the Captain over your solitary fluke of a win!"  That got him, Abner 
thought.

"Fine, fine, so we don't go after the Avengers," Whirlwind interrupted.  
"What about ganging up on our individual enemies?"

"What do you mean?" the Porcupine asked.  Abner noticed that his tone of
voice was suddenly more optimistic than before.  As if he saw a chance to
pick an easy fight he could win.  In fact, he hadn't seen the Porcupine 
since Justin Hammer hired both of them as part of an army of super-villains 
to attack Iron Man. Apparently that loss had done something to his self 
esteem.  For Abner, it had just given him an excuse to redesign his Beetle 
suit.  He was pragmatic that way.

"Well, we each have our grudges," Whirlwind explained.  "I bet the Beetle 
and Electro here would like a chance to finish Spider-Man for good, right?"  
Abner couldn't argue with that.

"And I'd like to show those X-Chumps once and for all.  So what?" the Blob
asked.  He was eating out of a bucket of what appeared to be cooking lard.

"So this.  What if we just all ganged up on Spider-Man while he was by
himself? He'd never be able to stop all of us!  We could even take out the
X-Men one by one.  It might be a little harder, but it sure beats playing by
their rules. Last time I checked, guys like us didn't play fair."  Whirlwind
crossed his arms, confident that his was the best plan.

Abner wasn't terribly impressed.  For one thing, he'd heard this line of
reasoning before.  The Sinister Six tried it and it didn't work.  He hooked
up with other criminals to attack the Thing in his sickbed and that
backfired.  And of course, Whirlwind was only proposing this for one reason.

"Let me guess.  You'd like for us to reunite you with your beloved Wasp,
right?" Plant-Man said, voicing Abner's thoughts.  "I think we could do
better."

"Gentlemen, please!" the Meteor Man broke in.  "I brought us all together so
we could break new ground.  All you're doing now is just rehashing the same
old plans and approaches that got you defeated in the first place!"

"So what's your big idea, Fearless Leader?" the Blob spat out in between
heaping handfuls of lard.

"Very simple, Blob," Meteor Man replied.  "I propose that we capture the
Defenders!"

"And we're supposed to be rehashing old plans?" Electro mocked.  "We 
already fought the Defenders, remember?  And we got our clocks cleaned!"

"Ah, but times have changed, Electro!" Meteor Man pointed out.  "I've been
researching this.  The Defenders have changed rosters since our last
encounter, and I'm certain that they've become fractured and disillusioned. 
If we attack them now, I'm sure we can win!  And once we have Dr. Strange 
and the Hulk in our power, we can do whatever we want!"

"The HULK?!" Abner cried.  "Now we're talking about beating up the Hulk?  
How are we supposed to imprison him, put him in one of those wooden crates?  
We can drill air holes for him and feed him carrots every morning!"  He had 
had about enough.  This had been curious for a minute, but now the whole 
scene was becoming a pipe dream.  "Listen, Looter, Meteor Man, or whatever 
you call yourself, you're off your rocker, and you're even loonier than I 
thought if you think I'm going to work with this half baked team of yours, 
much less with you in charge.  I'm out of here!"  And with that, he 
activated the shell on his back to open, revealing the wings on his armor 
which would carry him out of the building.

The Meteor Man's response was far more direct.  In a single bound he 
pounced onto the flying Beetle and struck him in the head, knocking him 
silly even through the armor.  Dazed, Abner careened through the room, 
finally  crashing into a pile of long unclaimed freight.

"Now, Beetle," Meteor Man said as he regained his composure, "I think you
should spend some time in the Time-Out Corner until you've reconsidered your
disruptive influence on the group.  As for the rest of you," he turned to 
his six other partners, "I would remind you that my power is the power of 
the meteors, borne of the secrets of the universe itself.  Only my genius is 
able to understand their mysteries, and that is enough to put me in charge.  
Any questions?"

Electro frowned for a moment.  "You may be eccentric, Meteor Man, but I've
worked with Blackout, and after him, you're a regular Ben Stein to me.  So
I'll play along, and if you can get us the results, you've got yourself a
deal."  The rest of the team agreed to that.

"Good," Meteor Man said. "Now, we've got a lot of planning to do, so let's 
get
to work."

***

It wasn't as bad as he thought, Hank realized.  It was much, much worse.

Of the four confirmed escapees, there were four more mooks working alongside
them.  Porcupine, the Blob, and Batroc hadn't been heard from in a while, 
and it was something of a surprise to see them here in this already bizarre
group.  As for their self-appointed leader, he had never heard of him. 
Hellcat never mentioned a Meteor Man or a Looter in her report, suggesting
that if he had been involved, he was a bit player at most, probably with an
unimpressive track record.

And yet, here he was, with six super-villains eating out of the palm of his
hand, and a seventh beaten senseless in one blow.  Clearly he was a force to
be reckoned with now, if never before.

To top it all off, he was plotting an assault on the Defenders, and it 
seemed that his intelligence was largely accurate.  Of course, if he 
expected to find Dr. Strange and the Hulk, Hank decided that he'd have to 
take a number.

And that was the beginning of his advantage.  Meteor Man didn't know exactly
who was part of the Defenders, so he wouldn't be expecting the Beast.  Also,
he seemed overconfident that he could just waltz over to the Sanctum and 
just hog-tie the Sorcerer Supreme, not to mention the Hulk.  The Beetle had 
been right: Meteor Man was insane.  That spiel about having communion with 
the universe after a chance encounter with a rock was the proof.  Finally, 
there was some obvious dissension in the ranks.  Granted, he took the Beetle 
by surprise, and the others were siding with him, but it had been a lucky 
punch, and most of these baddies were just grateful to be out of prison or 
they were starry eyed with a chance for the big time.

So, all Hank McCoy, biochemist extraordinaire, had to do now was exploit his
opening.  He'd fought some of them before, and Captain America had trained
him enough that Batroc shouldn't be a problem, but he was still badly
outnumbered. He considered waiting for Iceman and Gargoyle to show up, but 
he knew it would only be a matter of time before these ersatz "Defenders" 
moved out, and then it would be a question of finding them before they found 
the house-assuming they didn't already know about it.  He began wondering 
how Dolly and Sassafras were holding up.

And then he wondered if this is was what he had been doing all along.  Was 
he any less delusional than the folks down there?  At least the Meteor Man 
had more recruits.  Was Hank just as obsessed with forging a team of his 
own?

He listened in, hoping to find some more information that could help him 
make a decision.

***

Abner Jenkins arched his back, popping the kinks out of his spine.  He 
wasn't pleased.

The Meteor Man stood next to him waiting to offer any assistance.  "Feeling
better?" he asked pleasantly.

"Lots," Abner lied.  "Look, you convinced me.  I want in on your idea."  
This was little more than lip service of course.  Meteor Man had made it 
clear that he wouldn't let anyone walk out on him alive.  Better to play 
along with the gag, he decided.

"That's great, Beetle," Meteor Man beamed.  "Listen, I thought I might make 
a suggestion about improving your armor.  I've drawn up a few equations that
might enhance your capabilities."

"What?" Abner was dumbfounded.  "I didn't know you had engineering skills."

"Oh, it's a hobby I indulge in between my scientific endeavors.  A lot of my
experiments require equipment I have to invent myself."  He handed him a
binder. "Tell me, have you heard of the Fester Coefficient?"

A quick glance over the contents of the binder explained why he hadn't. 
Abner had no formal training in engineering; he just happened to be talented
enough to get by.  But he did have enough smarts to recognize that Meteor
Man's equations were pure nonsense.  Greek letters (and a few Cyrillic ones)
were tossed in at random, U.S. and metric units were used interchangeably,
and imaginary constants were created to suit the needs of the fantasy.  
Where text commentary was written, every third word was misspelled.  Abner 
wondered if he had even graduated high school.  When he remembered that 
"Fester" was probably the Meteor Man's own name, he decided that he hadn't.

"Uh... very enlightening," was all he could say.  He handed the book back to
the proud author.  He had to get away from them and plan a way out.  He 
could figure out this nut later.  "Listen, I need to take a trip to the 
little beetle's room. Where--?"

"Oh, it's behind that door on the far side," Meteor Man answered.  Now that
Abner was pretending to cooperate, he seemed to be getting more permissive. 
He headed for the lavatory.

Bars.  He had actually put bars on the windows.  Abner swore under his
breath. Of course, he could always blast through with his electro-bite
weapon, or simply punch through a wall, for that matter. But then Meteor Man
would sic his "Defenders" on him and who knew what he'd do to punish a 
second escape attempt. Abner was starting to think he was better off in 
prison.

"Psst!"

At that sound, Abner climbed up onto the toilet and put his face as close to
the window as the bars and his mask would allow.  The blue, upside-down face
on the other side startled him into slipping off the seat.

"Sorry. I get that from a lot of people," the face said, it's voice muffled 
by the glass. If I weren't so rambunctious, I might stop doing it."

Abner finally recognized his visitor.  "The Beast, right?" he spat.  "Well,
that's all I need!  What do you want, Avenger?  As if I couldn't guess."

"Defender, actually," the Beast said with an apparent look of distaste.  
Abner could care less what he wanted to be called.  "And I came to ask you 
for a favor."

"Sure, I'll turn myself next week," Abner muttered.  "Now do me a favor and
drop dead." He turned towards the door to show how disinterested he was.

"I've been watching, Beetle," the Beast said.  "I've been watching you
challenge Meteor Man's authority.  I watched him deck you while you weren't
looking.  I'm no Pavlov, mind you, but it seems to me that you're not
planning on falling into line anytime soon.  Otherwise," he smiled, "you
would've called your friends and told them there's a fuzzy prowler on their
roof."

Abner stood still for a moment.  Finally he turned around, slowly.  "All
right, what do you want from me?"

"Help," the Beast said.  "I'm by myself, and your exalted leader's been
plotting against my team.  From the sounds of things, he might pull it off,
too.  I need to take them down, now.  And all I've got is my blue 
underwear."

"So you want me to help you out?" Abner asked incredulously.  It suddenly
occurred to him that he should lower his voice.  "What do I look like, the
Human Torch?"

"You look like a man who'd rather talk to me than work with his fellow
highwaymen," the Beast answered.  "You can't cut out of this little reunion
by yourself.  I'm offering you a chance to escape, in exchange for helping 
me put Looney Tunes away.  Of course," he teased, "being the rugged 
individualist super-hero I am, I could always make a daring frontal attack 
on them by myself, and get the fur beat out of me.  Naturally, Meteor Man 
would want to have a pleasant conversation, and your name might come up..."

Abner knit his brow underneath the Beetle mask.  He didn't have much choice,
but then again, it was the best bet he had to get out of this place.  Of
course, he didn't have to like it.  "Save your breath, Aveng--Defender.  I
know an extortion racket when I see one.  What do I do?"

***

"Beetle!  Are you about done in there?"  Electro barked.  "What did you do,
rust your codpiece shut?"

Right on cue, an explosion rocked the entire warehouse, knocking Electro off
his feet.  Electro was mystified. "Beetle?!" he stammered.

And the entire gang had now turned around to see what had happened.  It was
the perfect opening, Hank surmised as he perched himself in the windowsill 
of the opposite wall.  In one powerful leap he flew across the interior of 
the building and kicked both the Plant Man and Batroc to the ground.  Before
anyone could react, he waved a massive azure paw at Whirlwind, knocking him
out instantly.

There, he thought, that took care of the quickest of them, as well as Plant
Man. Admittedly, the only reason he went after him first was just because he
hadn't read his file very closely.

"What in the--!?" Meteor Man yelled as he noticed the noises of Hank's
strike. Well, he figured, nothing could last forever.  Hank leaped from the
backs of the two villains and was airborne again.

"You said you wanted to tango with the Defenders, Meteor Man, m'boy!" Hank
taunted, hoping to rattle the remaining four of them.  "Well, you got the
Defenders, buddy!  All ONE OF THEM!"  And with that he did a backflip over a
stack of crates and disappeared from their view.

"Get him!  Get him!"  Meteor Man shouted in a panic.  "He must have set that
explosion as a diversion!"  His men quickly fanned out around the crates,
hoping to trap their assailant.  Meteor Man, however, was now alone, and
completely unprepared for what happened next.

"Afraid not, Leader-Man!  That was courtesy of the Beetle!"  And before 
Meteor Man could react, the source of the voice tackled him from behind, and 
carried him off the ground.

So far everything was working pretty well, Hank thought.  Already, the 
others were looking away to call the Beetle back to their aid.  By having 
him attack Meteor Man, they all assumed that he was just trying to settle 
their grudge.  And so, they all still thought he would help them capture 
Hank.  Instead, the Beetle was leaving them wide open for--

"This," Hank laughed, "is the problem with your powers, Electro!"  He had
emerged from his hiding place and did a cannonball dive into his back.  
"They only work if you're paying attention to what you're doing!"  Electro 
wallered on the ground, trying to regain his bearings.  Now the Porcupine 
and the Blob were advancing toward him. He had officially given up the 
advantage of surprise if the two slowest members of this bridge party had 
caught on.  Now it was all a matter of skill.

***

Abner swung wildly at Meteor Man's face.  For a few seconds, the force was
enough to keep him in the air, but finally he dropped like a stone and 
landed head first on the concrete below.  It didn't hold him for long, 
though.  As much as he over-hyped his meteor-spawned powers, they were 
pretty impressive at that.

"Zut Alors!" Batroc shouted at the top of his lungs!  "Beetle, would you put
your petty personal differences aside for a moment?  We have more pressing
matters at the moment!  There is a common foe in our midst!"

So far, the Beast's plan had been pretty successful.  Instead of openly
assisting the hero, Abner just seemed to be attempting another escape from
the warehouse, followed by some payback to the Meteor Man.  As far as the
others knew, he was just being short-sighted instead of treacherous.  And 
so, he decided to keep up the act.  "Back off, Frenchy," he growled in 
between punches, "I've got a score to settle here, and I don't care who 
tries to stop me!"

That seemed to do the trick.  Having seen the situation was hopeless, 
Batroc left them to go help the others.  That would discourage further 
distractions, he hoped.

"You fool!"  Meteor Man struck him in the gut with a roundhouse right.  
"I'm not going to let your arrogance ruin my plans!  I won't!"  Abner felt 
some of the impact through his armor.  Enough to hurt him anyway.  One of 
the advantages to this plan was that he could focus on one opponent, while 
the Beast handled six, but that still meant he had to deal with the Meteor 
Man's strength. He had figured that an electro-bite from his gloves would 
take him down, but he had used that to blow apart that hole in the bathroom 
wall, and it would be a few minutes at least before they recharged.  Until 
then, it was a matter of matching him blow for blow, and he wasn't sure how 
long he could keep that up.

He tossed the Meteor Man over his shoulder, giving him a short breather.  
Then he noticed his silent partner trying to muddle through.  Beast was 
cornered between the Blob and Porcupine.  Well, at least the Blob was 
getting a shot at the X-Men, he figured.

"Show's over, Little Boy Blue," the Blob muttered.  "Nothing can move the 
Blob by himself!  Fat lot of good you can do when I've got partners!"

"Who says I don't, Freddie?" Beast shot back as he leaped over one of the
Blob's portly arms.  "Why, the Porcupine here was just telling me how he was
going to shoot these gas grenades from his armor--" he waved a hand to the
opened panel on the Porcupine's armor as three metal globes fired out of the
aperture, "--and aim them directly into your waiting maw!"  Beast dived out
of the grenades' trajectory and let them indeed, enter the Blob's mouth.  On
impact they burst open, releasing enough knockout gas to put even the Blob 
to sleep.  And as he passed out, the massive mutant collapsed on top of 
Electro, covering all but his head.

"ARRRGGGGHHH!!!" Electro screamed in agony.  "Get him off of me!  Porcupine,
you idiot!"

It was a brilliant move, Abner thought, and one he'd have to remember the
next time he tried to take on the Thing.  However, he had become distracted
from the battle at hand, and the Meteor Man struck him in the jaw.  Funny
thing was, it seemed to hit him harder than the last time.

***

"Oh man!  I'm really sorry about this, Electro!"

"Just... get... him... off!" Electro snarled.  Porcupine began hopelessly
yanking at the Blob's unconscious arm, trying to free his comrade.

Hank just snickered.  "Don't bother, Porcupine.  He was right: Nothing can
move the Blob.  But don't worry, pard, we took care of him, didn't we?"  And
to add insult to injury, Hank extended a hand to the Porcupine.

"Ruffian!  Scoundrel!  How dare you attack us with such skullduggery!   Turn
now, and face a master of savate!  For Batroc wishes to meet his opponent 
face to face, however unpleasant that face may be."

Hank turned to see Batroc standing behind him poised for single combat. 
Behind him, Plant Man was still trying to recover from the first blow. 
Behind Hank, the Porcupine was stupefied, probably still trying to think of 
a way to free Electro.

"Just take him out!  You idiot!" Electro screamed from the ground.  "Shoot 
him with your quill gun or something!  Just do it, stupid!"

"No!  Honor demands the rest of you stay back!" Batroc commanded. 
Apparently, while Meteor Man was struggling with the Beetle, he had decided
to take charge. "What do you say, mutant?  Care to fight fairly for once?"

"Right," Hank said as Batroc opened with a swift kick to his nose.  Hank
dodged it with inches to spare.  "I'm not the one who threw in with seven
other guys to go exact some kind of perceived 'revenge' on three or four
people!"  He flipped into a handstand and swung a foot at Batroc, who raised
his own leg to block it. Hank just grasped the Frenchman's ankle with his
prehensile foot.  "I'm also not the guy who figured it'd be a fair fight to
kickbox a guy who practically has four hands!  Buddy if that's honor, you 
can have it!"  And with that he tossed the shocked Batroc into the Plant Man 
and sent them both to the floor.

He pressed the advantage.  "You know, I was pretty steamed at the idea of 
you knaves trying to hurt Bobby or Isaac, but now that I think about it," he
leaped on top of Plant Man and pulled a pouch from his costume, "I'm
beginning to think Dolly could have handled you all by herself!"  He quickly
jumped over to the Porcupine and stuffed the contents of the bag into the
holes in his mask.

"Wha--?  What did you do to--GAAACCHHHOOO!!"  The Porcupine began to sneeze
uncontrollably.

"Ragweed," Hank replied.  "I figured you might have an allergy or two. I
guess I could tell you the scientific nomenclature for it..."

"Shut UP, just SHUT UP!" Electro fumed.

"But then I suppose I'd be wasting my breath."  Hank looked around and was
satisfied that at least the hard part was done.

***

Abner blocked the Meteor Man's next punch and gave him a kick to the knee. 
Fun was fun, but he was starting to get worried.  Several systems in his
armor had been damaged during the fight, including the electro-bite he was
planning to use to save himself.  For a moment he considered just ducking 
out and letting the Beast deal with them, but then he noticed that there was 
no one else left standing.

"Looks like you've already lost the war, Looter!" Abner proclaimed, shoving 
a finger towards what was left of his "Defenders".  He was counting on the
revelation to rattle his imbalanced foe, and he was right.

Maybe even too right.  "NO!" the Meteor Man shrieked.  He clutched his face
in abject horror.  It seemed melodramatic even for him, Abner thought.  So a
bunch of would-be teammates stuck out before they even went to bat.  He had
seen it often enough.  But to the Meteor Man, this appeared to be a grievous
personal loss.  "You can't do this to me!  They were my last chance!  My 
last chance!"

The Beast had been standing triumphantly with one foot on the Blob's back,
posing like a big game hunter, Electro swearing a blue streak from 
underneath.  Now, his smile lessened with concern.  "Uh, come on, Meteor 
Man," he said, trying to console the fanatic.  It-it'll be OK.  A little 
trip downtown and you'll be back on the street in ten to twenty--"

"NO, IT WILL NOT BE OK!!" he screamed.  His fingers were now ripping at the
mask on his face.  "It's happening!  All over again!"  And with that, he
began to light up with an eerie glow, then increase in size.

Abner just stared and watched.  He had managed to fight him to a standstill
before.  Now things had become out of hand.  He mentally plotted out the 
best escape route, but he was too shocked to act on it.  The Beast stuttered
something, but clearly he was just as perplexed.

"I-I took too much power from the meteors!" his enlarged vocal cords boomed.
"Stole too much power from the universe!  Now cosmic... balance is being
restored!  I... needed help!  My team... the Defenders... needed their help
to control the energies I've absorbed!  But now--NOW!"  Finally, he floated
through the roof (apparently becoming intangible somehow), and his voice
became fainter.

Abner raced behind the Beast as he threw open the door to see where their
enemy had gone.  All they found was an explosion at least half a mile in the
air.

"He-he's gone," was all Abner could say.

"Who WAS he, anyway?" the Beast asked.

Abner suddenly put it together.  "I remember now...I... read some news
clippings on him.  He started out as the Looter, and he fought Spider-Man a
couple of times.  I forgot the last time I heard about him, but well... that
explosion. How could I not remember?"

"What?" the Beast asked.

"He's supposed to be dead!  He rigged up some doohickey to increase his
powers... then he grew and exploded--just like now.  I forgot all about it.
When he showed himself today, well, it never occurred to me that he'd be
dead!"

"Then it looks like he's fluctuating," the Beast concluded.  "He's out of
control, reverting to his superhuman state, then blowing apart.  Stars and
Garters... no wonder he wanted the Defenders.  Maybe Strange or Dr. Banner
might have been able to help him... Jehoshaphat, I could have helped him! 
If he'd just asked--"

Abner snorted under his mask.  The entire night had left a bad taste in his
mouth.  The Looter was crazy, whether the Beast blamed himself for it or 
not.  Instead of checking himself into Project: Pegasus or even trying to 
explain his problems, he just pretended like it was another job for his 
warped ego.  The worst part was that in his twisted mind, the only people 
he could turn to were his "trusted" allies from the "Defenders".  It was a 
farce from the start.  And he had nothing to show for it but the worthless 
gratitude of a superhero and whatever respect an undead lunatic had to 
offer.  Less than a month after the Masters of Evil went bust and here he 
was back in the same situation.  Abner stared at the point where the 
explosion had happened and he wondered to himself if he'd ever get out of 
this vicious circle.

***

"Gotta admit, Hank," Bobby smiled, "I sure am glad the Defenders don't have
you collecting back dues!  You don't mess around!"

Hank was sliding home on a sheet of solid ice, care of his friend's mutant
powers.  It wasn't the most comfortable way to travel, but it was still 
great to be doing it again.  He could hardly feel his arms wrapped around 
Iceman's waist as they rode, but after that last loop-de-loop, he thought 
better of letting go.

"Looks like we may as well retire, Bobby," Isaac chuckled as he flew past
them, "With Henry here beating seven in one blow, we'll be lucky to play
clean up crew after this!"

"Ah, it was nothing, really," Hank remarked.  The job was done so he decided
to be jovial about it.  "You just pick your spots, a little psyche-out job
here and there, and Viola!"

"Sure, and after you were done, you just decided to send up that giant flare
to let us benchwarmers drop by to see your handiwork," Bobby smirked. 
"Modest one, huh, Gargoyle?"

"So, do you think that poor man could still be alive, Henry?"  Isaac asked.

"Who knows?" Hank answered glumly.  "I know so little about what happened to
the guy--Reed Richards couldn't detect any abnormal signatures after a few
hours. And the worst part is that if he is alive, he may not be sane enough
to get help.  At least this time the Avengers database will be up to speed 
on the problem."

"Aw, come on, Hank!" Iceman joked.  "Don't tell me that you're still filling
out reservist logs like a dutiful Avenger!  I thought we hooked up with the
Defenders to get away from all that paperwork!"

"Not if I have anything to say about it, Mr. Drake!"  Hank retorted.  "So
enjoy it while you can!  Now, back to Defenders Central Command, on the
double!"  he said in a blustery tone as he pointed a commanding finger.

"Aye-aye, Fearless Leader!"  Isaac said.

And Hank McCoy relaxed, or at least as well as he could sliding on a floe of
ice.  Maybe this team thing would work out one way or another. If nothing
else, he'd seen the worst case scenario.***

Abner Jenkins lay in his cot.  At least it hadn't been a total loss, he
decided. When the Defenders turned him back in, they were good enough to
point out that he had been abducted from his cell, and he had assisted in
breaking up the Looter's gang.  So now he could bask in the solace of having
reduced his sentence, and getting a day's worth on the outside, if nothing
else.

Yeah, the hero had lived up to his promises, and that was the best deal he'd
swung in a while.  The problem was that the reputable ones always seemed to
have the least to offer.  It was the nature of the game, he supposed, but he
was still holding out for the next big score, and he just hoped it would 
come through this time.

But for now, he had gotten a little break in the monotony, and he was 
content to just go to sleep in his cell.  For once, he could go over the 
events leading up to his arrival and not wince.  He didn't accomplish much 
this time, but at least he came away with more than empty promises.

THE END