I don't need no arms around me
And I don't need no drugs to calm me
I have seen the writing on the wall
Don't think I'll need anything at all!
Jacqueline paced through the deck of the ship, the screaming, rage filled tones of Another Brick in the Wall (Part III) pounding in her ears. It set the mood quite nicely. She was frustrated, angry, filled with utter contempt as she looked upon her soldiers, moving quickly about to complete their assigned tasks. It had been a few hours of preparation so far but the leeches that comprised the Skeleton Crew were moving too slow, like a bunch of bloated slugs, for her liking.
I see now what has undermined the Skeleton Crew, She mentally snarled to herself. These leeches. I thought they were well trained but SOMEONE dropped the ball there and badly! These idiots have crawled about like roaches, contributing nothing. Without me, they'd all fall apart. I took me a long time to see it but I can see now how useless they all are. They aren't even fully prepared to go yet, despite several hours of prep time! Fools! Morons! Bastards!
Jacqueline stopped next to a technician's work station, glaring daggers at the man seated behind the computer. The man glanced up at her and visibly paled, before removing his receiver.
"Y-y-yes ma'am?" He choked out. Jacqueline snorted. What a sniveling toad. She entertained the notion of smashing his face through the computer and splattering his brains everywhere. Instead, she just leaned closer and hissed at him:
"Whatever you're doing? Do it faster." With that, she stopped off, leaving the cowering moron at his station. She noticed several faces looking at her, who quickly returned to their work as she stomped past.
Don't think I'll need anything at all
No, don't think I'll need anything at all!
Jacqueline stopped at the center of the bridge, watching sunlight stream in through the massive windows. Her eyes turned to the televisions set up in the corner, reporters droning on and on. The Skeleton Crew now dominated the news cycle. Fear was gripping America, strangling it. They wouldn't be expecting another attack so soon, oh no.
San Francisco. Soon it would burn, soon the city that haunted her, tormented her,would be gone. The metahumans would burn with it. Her enemies would be destroyed. She would be free and ready to start again, stronger than before.
The Skeleton Crew would be rebuilt after San Francisco. Yes indeed. She'd purgethe incompetents after they'd served their purpose one last time. With any luck, most of them would die in the putrid city. But she did want to kill some herself.
Yes, she could see it. Calling them together to offer a congratulation speech. Lower their collective guard with pretty words and a few pats on the back. Then, at the apex of the speech, she'd open fire. Gun them all down like animals. Crush their skulls. Rip them apart. Use what remained of their pathetic corpses as airship fuel.
Then she'd be alone, with her pack of metahuman dogs, ready to build the Skeleton Crew again. She'd do it right this time, better than before. Her genius would see her through, it always did. She'd find actually competent subordinates this time, men and women bred for the tasks at hand, unlike the buffoons that scurried around her now. It was all she could do to avoid slaughtering them all, right here and right now. But no...first...first San Francisco. The metahuman freaks needed to die first, as did the city. It all had to die. All of it. Then she could finally live again. Free of the Agency. Free of Amanda. Free of her father.
No! Don't think I'll need anything at all.
All in all it was all just bricks in the wall.
All in all you were all just bricks in the wall!
"Ma'am'..."A woman's voice ripped her from daydreams. Jacqueline turned, eyes finding a female technician not far away. The woman visibly cringed as she adjusted her headset but pointed, with a trembling finger holding a lit cigarette, at the television monitors. "We're picking up a new signal...its on all the televisions."
"A signal?" Jacqueline snorted, tapping her chest. "Must be some sort of emergency broadcast system. Probably in response to us. Don't be stupid, if we stopped to gloat at every miniscule development of the current situation, we'd-"
"Hello Jacqueline," A voice crackled suddenly. Jacqueline froze. That voice. She slowly turned, her suit expelling bursts of steam, her lips quivering with rage as she faced the television monitors. And sure enough, a familiar leered at her from all of the television screens, having replaced the drone of chatter of every single news station.
The face belonged to a black girl, her hair a mess, a domino mask covering her face but it wasn't able to hide her sunken, tired eyes. But despite all that, she wore a smug, almost taunting grin on her stupid face. It was one of them. This one was Salamander, real name Laureen something.
The camera zoomed over out, revealing three other metahumans around the girl. The Urban Spider, Tuatara, and the Urban Spider. All looking in similar states of tiredness, all looking about ready to keel over, but they weren't. They were all standing together, staring almost defiantly at the camera. Jacqueline felt they were looking right at her, their four gazes cutting through her like knives.
"Sup America," Laureen said with an insufferably smug smile. "We're the Metahuman Agency. Sorry for interrupting whatever the fuck you were watching but this is pretty damn important. We've got a message for the bitch who blew up our base, has been trying to kill us, and attacked Quincy last night. Her name is Jacqueline Prescott. You listening, Jacky?"
Jacqueline's fists tightened as she stared at the four freaks, her entire body shaking with rage, her suit rattling. The rest of the room had gone dead quiet. Besides the television, all that could be heard was the synthesized sound of her furious breathing.
"So we got a message for you, you fucking bitch ass cunt," Laureen continued, the smug grin never leaving her disgusting face. "We're in San Francisco. Yeah, that place you threatened to blow sky high. And we're gonna stop your bitch ass, you fucking bitch. 'Cause although you succeeded in blowing up our base, killing the Director, and a lot of our fucking friends, I'll let you in on a little secret."
Laureen leaned close to the camera, her face filling the screen. She tapped it and say, her voice sickeningly sweet like she was addressing a child, "You're incompetent, Jacky. Fucking incompetent. You got, what, a whole army? A bunch of powerful metahumans on your payroll? A suit of power armor that lets you be as strong as us, plus its loaded with tons of weapons? Man, that stuff might be actually scary if you were, you know, competent. But I'll tell you, sister, you sure as shit ain't. Even with all your fancy toys and your crazy ass weapons, you ain't killed a single one of us yet." She whistled. "Must be humiliating, a bunch of so-called kids stopping you repeatedly, huh? Even though we're all exhausted, we've been on the run, and you're supposedly so much stronger than us. Its why I think you're a fucking shitty ass opponent. 'Cause you're unable to kill us, even with all you got. Maybe if you were a little smarter, a little better, but sorry Jacky...you ain't."
"That's right," Another voice piped up. The camera zoomed out, moving over to Jason MacQuil standing nearby. He looked horrendously smug too. "You're nothing, Jacqueline. Just a pest, at best. Oh sure, you can squash innocent civilians no problem. You can murder helpless old women. But when you're up against us, people who can actually fight back? You're nothing. Just a bully with a lot of high tech gadgets." He cracked his knuckles. "And I really like beating up bullies, you pathetic terrorist. So I'm looking forward to when you show up to try and 'blow up' San Francisco. All that's gonna blow up though is your face when I smashed it to pulp."
Laureen smirked. "What we're saying is, Jacqueline, we're gonna kick your tin-plated ass. Oh sure, you scared us before, when you got the drop on us. But guess what you've lost?" She tapped her chin and looked at Tuatara. "What's the word, Max? I'm sure there's a technical term and shit."
"Element of surprise." The one-eyed Hispanic kid grunted, his arms folded impassively.
Laureen snapped her fingers. "Yep! That's it. You've lost your element of surprise, you fucking crazy ass fucking bitch. Without it, you're nothing. Fucking nothing, you here? So come on. I dare you."
"I dare you too," Jason snarled to the camera. He cracked his knuckles. "I'm looking forward to tearing you out of that suit and finally getting to see your ugly face. Maybe that's why you haven't been coming after us personally. You're too scared. Scared that you'll lose."
"And you're going to," Max said quietly. His voice stern and fierce. "Because you can't beat us. You know that."
"Prove us wrong!" Jason snarled to the camera, tightening a fist. "Come on! Come and get us, you piece of shit. Come and squash us, if you can. We're on Alcatraz, just waiting for you. You want us? We're right here. But I bet you won't come. I bet you'll send your troops again. And we'll beat them. Just like we kicked their asses a million times before. And you'll fail again, you cowardly fuck."
Laureen and Max both nodded in tandem. Laureen turned to Hiroshi, the silent teen having been just staring at the camera like a deer in the headlights. "Anything to say, dude?" Laureen said, nudging him.
Hiroshi swallowed before looking at the camera. The boy tightened his grip on the helmet he was holding. "We're going to stop you," He said defiantly. "Because you're the villain. And we're the heroes. You're a monster! But monsters always die. So come get us. We'll kick your ass-"
Jacqueline screamed. Her fist smashed through the screen, the television exploding in a shower of sparks. Howling, she lifted the entire display of screens from the floor, it coming loose with a grinding rip. Jacqueline then hurled the display across the room. Multiple technicians scattered as it went spinning through the bridge, before smashing down hard into a series of computer terminals. The television displays thumped to the floor, their broken screens smoking and sparking.
Jacqueline spun, still absolutely mad with rage. She grabbed the nearest computer console, tearing it loose and smashing it to the floor, before violently kicking it away and sending the thing flying hard into the wall. She rounded on more terminals, unsheathing her claws before she fell upon them. She ripped through keyboards, computers, and the desk itself, chunks of machinery flying around her. The desk cracked in half, smashed computers and ruined keyboards crashing to a heap on the floor.
Jacqueline raised her gatling gun, still screaming. She opened fired on the floor, her bullets shredding through metal like butter. Her continued screams were drowned out by the barrage of gunfire, the chunks of the metal floor exploding, flashes of her gatling gun bursting across the room. All her thoughts were lost, giving way to pure, unfiltered rage.
Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, her gatling gun clicked dry. The chamber kept spinning fruitlessly as Jacqueline continued to wave it mindlessly at the floor, dozens of punctured holes smoking around her. She became slowly aware of her surroundings again, of her own labored breathing. Like a machine resetting, her thoughts came back into focus and she lowered her hand, the gatling gun spinning to a halt.
She turned around, recovering her breathes, mind buzzing. It was hard to think. She was so angry. She could see her technicians cowering around the bridge, hiding behind desks and overturned chairs. Jacqueline raised her shaking hands, barely resisting the urge to surge forward and tear apart everything around her.
"Wormhole..." She hissed. "Where is...Wormhole?!"
The technicians didn't answer, continuing to cower. Jacqueline took a step forward. "WHERE IS HE?!" Her voice sounded more like a roar and exploded through the bridge.
A technician pressed a computer console and summoned Wormhole to the bridge. A moment later, Wormhole appeared before Jacqueline, stepping out of a portal. He furrowed his brow as he took in the destruction to the bridge, looking distastefully at the overturned television display screens.
"What is-" He started to say but Jacqueline jabbed a thumb at the window.
"San Francisco." She hissed to the old man. "Alcatraz. Transport us there. Now."
"Ma'am..." Wormhole said with a sigh. Jacqueline's eyes narrowed. "Ireally don't think its wise to go now. The crews are still getting prepared, the airship is being checked, and if we rush this, it could blow up in our faces just like last-"
Jacqueline seized the old man by his collar and yanked him off the floor. Wormhole's eerie blue eyes went wide with shock as he dangled in her metal fist, whatever stupid words he was going to say dying in his wrinkled throat. Jacqueline pulled him close until their faces were almost touch and snarled right in his face: "NOW. Or I'll rip open your insides and splatter your worthless organs all over the control center before TOSSING WHAT'S LEFT INTO THE ENGINE TO USE AS FUEL!"
Wormhole visibly swallowed. For once, he genuinely looked scared. Good, Jacqueline thought. You've been too uppity for too damn long. Do your job, you sniveling little worm. DO IT.
Wormhole finally spoke out, his voice slightly hoarse: "Y-yes man." He closed his eyes, muscles in his brow straining. Blue light filled the room, enveloping it in a glow. Jacqueline turned and saw a massive portal open before the front of the airship, swirling it in midair, ready to receive The Inferno.
She unceremoniously dumped Wormhole to the floor and turned to the window. She stared at the portal for a moment, before snapping her fingers. "Forward!" She barked. "FORWARD!"
The Inferno's engines roared and the mighty airship surged into the portal. The portal swirled around the thing, as it swallowed the airship in a burst of blue light. Then the portal blinked out of existence, sweeping The Inferno and its crew thousands of miles away to San Francisco.