RKMBs Forums .::Important::. Writer's Block Strikeforce 3: picking up the pieces

A few weeks ago...

White sails dot the far reaches of the lake Lemano, vanishing in the reflections of the snow capped peaks of the Swiss Alps. The willows on the shore bend gently at the breeze coming from the mountains.

Jack Merlin glances at them while walking toward the office of the General Secretary of the United Nation Organization, in the new seat of Geneve, Switzerland. And as he steps over the stairs, he wishes he could be on one of those sailing boats, or anywhere else, instead of that place.

An envelope is in his right hand. Soaked in sweat.



"My resignation" says Jack. He wears a costly Italian suits, and his jeweled topped cane is in his left hand. Gone is the Strikeforce suit, and the medals on the chest. He leans the envelope to the man behind the desk.

The corpulent man takes it, look at it, play for a moment with it, and then, without opening, put it on the desk. His chair rotates, and the man looks outside. The white clouds towering over the mountain are quickly enlarging, becoming dark, and taking up all the blue sky dome.

"How it was?" the man asks, with a heavy Russian accent.

Merlin sighs. "It was... a mistake".

The clouds have totally covered the sky. The breeze is taking up force, becoming a strong wind. White foam appears on the now grey water of the lake.

"It was a failure. A total failure" says the newly elected General Secretary.

Merlin grimaces, as the man is giving him the back. But his voice his totally devoid of his usual bold tone. "Yes, sir. A failure".

"A total failure!"

"Yes. A... total... failure".

The man continues. "Your pathetic organization... your pet army... has proved once again to be just a bluff. Like in Antarctica. Like in Mandelovia. Like in Burundi, Sri Lanka, Afghanistan before!"

Merlin grunts, biting his tongue.

On the glass of the large window overlooking the lake, big drops began to break apart, and tearing down.

The large man continues: "Hundreds of millions of dollars burned in your stupid idea. A whole spaceship destroyed before any of our scientists could reverse-engineering it. Some of the best minds our nations had to be sacrificed on the altar of your presumption."

The rain was now poring down hard. It was almost dark, as it evening had come with half a day of advance. Only the occasional lighting, suddenly followed by windows-shaking thunders, illuminate the lake under a spectral, shadowless light.

Without a notice, the Russian turns on his revolving seat, facing Merlin. Standing up, his closed hands on the desk, he shouts: "What have you to say in your defense, General?" The last word is pronounced with a sarcastic tone.

Jack Merlin instantly opens his mouth to answer, then he stops, his mouth still half open. He coughs, a hand covering half the face. And then: "The only thing I say is that I assume all the responsability for the failed repossession of the island. And that is why inside that envelope there is my resignation. I have nothing else to add".

The large man let himself to fall back on the armchair.

His face expression softens. "Good. I like a man that knows when to hold the tongue."

Merlin sighs in relief.

Outside, the rain has stopped.

The man takes a wooden box, full of Havanas. "Personal gift from Fidel" says, lending one to Merlin, and lighting it. Then, he takes one for himself. "Sit down, please". The General Secretary puffs some smoke. "Soldiers from my country took part in the Antarctic War. I read their report about what went there... quite different from what you had the world believing..."

Merlin's mouth stiffens.

"Fascinating. I envy men with your skills to treat with the media world. A great job, really".

Merlin smiles.

"So, I reformulate my question: what there is in the island?"

Merlin takes a drag, and looks at rings of smoke leaving his mouth. Then he stands up, and goes toward another window. Outside, the sun is breaking trough the clouds, and its rays illuminate portions of the surface of the lake. Like spotbeams, they point out some sailing boats that drowned during the storm.

"There is too much power. Raw, untopped power, directed by a perfectly trained, experienced superior mind. I know just one person in the world that could stop him... but that one takes part only in war with menaces that come from outside, not from within the humankind..." The voice of Merlin is just a whisper.

"Sorry, I can't follow you" says the Russian, shaking his head.

Merlin look at the man, like being awakened from a dream. "Sorry" says, shaking his head in turn. "I was only saying there is no force on Earth right now able to resolve the situation. I suggest not to take any further action. The island has been given international recognition, leave it as is. More metas travel there? Let it be. There will be less metas around elsewhere. That is what the people wants, after all."

"Do you believe the island is all what they want? That they will be satisfied with it forever?"

Merlin shakes the head again. "Definitely not. They want the world. But to take the world, they'll have to exit their hole..." the voice lowers in tone. "There is more..." says Merlin leaning toward the Russian.

"More?"

"The head of the beast... is already outside the hole..."

The Russian frowns.

Merlin smiles: "They are still in La Perdita. They have been nowhere to be found for months, but they are back in the Carìbbeans. And Cicciotto is back with them."

The corner of the mouth of the Russian bend down. "The island government has said before that those people are benefactors of the nation, and are welcomed there..."

Merlin nods. "Ok, so reiterate the request. They can protect them on their ground, but not outside. So, if they stay on the island, they will not create problems elsewhere, if they step out of their tracks, and leave La Perdita, the Strikeforce will hunt them."

The Russian frowns again. "Why not attack them on the island?"

"Because the Strikeforce, right now, is unpaired. I have just the Academy cadets, and a few survivors from Strikeforce 1. I need to buy time for the third incarnation of the Strikeforce".

The Russian nods. "Ok then. But the American will not be happy about this resolution, we are talking of soil previously owned by them..."

"So what?" asks Merlin, smiling.

"They will leave the Strikeforce club. By the way, I have reports that their Indestructible Men project is advancing..."

"America has been badly destroyed on both its coast last year. They are embarking on wars they are losing, and the head of the nation has been detached from the body." Merlin's posture has taken back the vigor of the old days. "America is the most overrated country of this planet, tovarisch".

"My same tough" says the General Secretary of the United Nation, throwing the envelope that was on his desk into the bin. "My same though indeed."

Several thousand miles above the earth's crust...

The lights hum and flicker for several moments before finally staying on. Soviet-era technology has seen better days, but somehow everything is staying together.

Several moments later a humming sound can be heard -- that is, if there was someone there to hear it -- and an advanced tube in the center of the space station, which looks incongruous amidst all the 1980s-era technology, pulses to life.

Two figures step from the tube. One is an imposing-looking figure who appears to be human in shape but who is anything but. The other is a relatively normal-looking man -- that is, if he wasn't dressed in some kind of stretchable fabric.

They are in the midst of a conversation.

Let's listen in...

"--rlin thinks he's going to be in charge of every move we make, he's got another think coming. Huh. Since we're still alive, looks like the transporter's working. As far as I'm concerned, we ought to be able to make our own decisions about what we do in the field. And we should elect our own leader for each mission in order to keep any one, uh... person... from dominating the team. The artificial grav-unit seems to be in working order, too. Sure, Merlin is funding the team, but he's got to realize that it was his firm control over the past teams that led to their downfall. Am I right?"

The average-sized man in the stretchable fabric looks up at the godlike figure next to him, who wanders over to the large window overlooking the world.

"Something on your mind, there, El?"

"Pray call me the Elemental, sir doctor," the strange being says in a deep, rumbling voice like thunder on the horizon. "Aye, it is verily as you say. My mind is consumed by thoughts of mine enemy."

"Ah, right, right. Your brother?" asks the scientific genius Dr. Augustus von Braun, the man known as Graviton.

"Aye. My brother. My twin. My eternal nemesis. He is free once more, free to wreak havoc 'pon the globe." The Elemental's visage grows grim as he considers the implications.

"Don't worry too much about that," Graviton says with a grin. "Once the full membership of Strikeforce 3 is gathered together, nothing will be able to stop us. Not even the Entit--"

"Sayeth not his name, mortal!" the Elemental says in a booming voice unlike that of anything found in nature, his visage now as angry as a hurricane.

Graviton looks sheepish. "S-sorry about that, Elemental. I forgot about the name-thing."

The Elemental remains stern-faced for another long moment and then finally relents. "You are forgiven, sir doctor. Pray thee leave me to mine thoughts presently."

"You've got it," Graviton says with a humbled voice. "I've got quite a bit of work to do to get this place in shape, anyway. Let me know when Merlin and the others show up. I'll be on Deck 3."

"It will be as you say."

The tube glows again, and smell of ozone fills the station main room, before being depurated by the air recycling system.

"Ah, our Swiss friend!" said Graviton, which had not yet the time to leave for Deck 3. In the tube, a tall, robust blond man with a curly beard had just materialized.

Coming out of the tube, he nods in the directions of the two Strikeforcers. "Hafe been spottet somevhere, the Entit--"

The words died suddenly in his mouth, as he was incinerated by the sights of censure of the other two.

"Oh, sorry. I keep forgetting that name schould not be spoken..." apologized the newly arrived hero.

"Oh, don't have fear, Wilhem. I am sure here in the outer space our words should not be heard" said Graviton.

The towering figure of Elemental turned toward the doctor. "Don't be foolish, mortal. His ears can get across the vacuity of space".

A skeptical look crossed the face of Graviton for a moment. He seemed on the verge of giving a scientific lecture, but then he shook his head and turned his back to the imposing figure, looking for something to change subject.

"Whilem. Whilem Tell!" he said, to the Swiss. And then, as his head leaned on one side: "Don't you think its far-fetched? You are an archer, you are Swiss, and you choose the William Tell monicker? It's... it's kitsch!"

The blond frowned. "It's not a kodename. It's my true name".

Graviton eyebrows arched up. "Really? Are you a descendant of the real one?"

Then, it was the mouth of the Swiss to arch, down. "Not to my knovledge".

Graviton shrugged. "Well, I have that work to do on Dock 3. Call me if Merlin shows up".

On Deck 3, Graviton assembled his large pack of tools. At earthside he had miniaturized them through a method of his own invention which also reduced the mass by shifting a certain percentage of their atoms into the fourth dimension. It was not at all difficult to then retrieve that lost mass when it needed to be used.

Graviton's enlarging process works along similar lines, though instead of shifting mass into the fourth dimension, mass is actually taken from the fourth dimension to make something or someone much larger. Dr. von Braun discovered many years ago that the fourth dimension contains a kind of "X-element" which can adapt itself to any element. In practice, this X-element converts itself to duplicates of the atoms needed to make an object larger, while also strengthening the object to ensure that its grown mass does not cause it to collapse.

It was often easier to work in an enlarged form, even in cramped quarters such as this old converted Russian space station, but Graviton remained at normal size for now. The strange mixture of Soviet-era technology, modern Japanese electronics (supplied by the Nakamura Company, which was the primary funder for Strikeforce 3) and what could only be described as "alien" technology, was not at all simple to reconcile. Each type of technology seemed to want to "fight" the other kinds for domination, and it was difficult to get them to work together.

The worst part about the use of this old Soviet space station, however, were the constant air leaks. As soon as Graviton found one and patched it up and then reinforced it, another would be found elsewhere. It was very irritating. Especially since Graviton had no one to talk to.

***

"Vell, it's a goot thing that ve don't haff to live up here, ja?" Wilhelm Tell says to the godlike being next to him after several moments of awkward silence. "I mean, ve vill only be using this space station for vhen ve haff our regular meetings. There are old living quarters here, sure, but only for emergencies, I belieff."

Wilhelm Tell smiled up at the Elemental, who did't respond. After a few more moments he said:

"Vhoo! Vell, it's getting kind uf chilly in here, ja? Graviton needs to get that temperature control vorking a bit better, I think."

No reply.

"So... vhat made you join the Strikeforce? As for me, I haff vorked as a vigilante crimefighter for a vhile, now. It only seemed natural to eventually join up vith other crimefighters and gain some kind of legitimacy, you know? Plus, Graviton haff promised to improve the capabilities of my arrows. Some kind uf miniature 'acceleration' engine vill make my little 'rockets' fly faster and farther than ever, and with more firepower. It iss a very ideal arrangement."

The Elemental remained silent.

"I vonder vhy the Nakamura Company took such an interest in Strikeforce? I haff heard that a Nakamura employee iss even going to be joining us soon. A 'robot-man' of sorts, or at least some-vun in a robotic uniform. Should be fun, I guess."

Silence continued to hang in the antiseptic air.

"My, doesn't the earth look beautif--"

"SILENCE!" the Elemental boomed suddenly, his body tensing up as he seemed to peer even more intensely upon the world below.

"Iss... iss something wrong, herr Elemental?"

"Aye. There is indeed something wrong upon the world below. It is my nemesis, and he is on the move. Best you get to Graviton and gather ye all together quickly." The Elemental strode toward the transporter tube and said, "I will return in the morrow with news of the nefarious workings of mine enemy. Be thou ready to march into battle when the hour draweth near. Farewell."

"Farevell," the archer said as the transporter tube hummed to life and sent the god of elements back to earth. "Hmm. Vhat an interesting fellow."

But the transporter tube did not stop humming. Oh, no sir, there was much humming left for this transporter tube to humm. Well, just a couple of seconds actually.

A figure in an obviously homemade purple bodysuit -that covered him from head to toe, except for the eyes and the mouth- looked with confusion at Tell and Graviton.

"Is this... the Strikeforce 3?" the purple man asked.

"Indeed it is," Graviton said. "And you are...?"

"PHEW! I'm so glad. For a second I thought they had teleported me to another galaxy or somethin'..." the man stepped out of the tube and started walking around the place. "Nice place we got here. Yowza! Killer view."

Graviton and Willhelm looked at each other. "Excuse me, vho are you?" Tell asked.

"OH! I'm sorry..." he walked over to the pair and presented himself. "I'm Brian. Brian Dead."

"I'm Graviton and this is Willhelm Tell," Dr. von Braun said.

"Awesome. I'm your new classmate."

After an uncomfortable silence that lasted about three long minutes, Dead pointed at the arrows on Tell's back. "You obviously shoot arrows..." he looked at Graviton, "what do you do?"

"Well, I, um, shrink..."

"Groovy."

"And you?"

"I'm dead."

Again, the tube buzzed, and two new figure stepped in the station.

One was a robot-like metallic humanoid, sporting the letters ACK-2.0 and the logo of Nakamura company embossed on the left side of the silvery chest. The other was a very young big guy, with curly black hairs, wearing a turquoise and white costume, with the United Nation bullet on the back.

The robot pressed a button, and his head detached from the body, revealing it was just an armor, as the smiling face of a Japanese man appeared behind it. He bended forward, to greet the presents.

The other looked around, feeling out of place, and just said, shyly, "Hi".

"Brandon Mullarney!" exclaimed Graviton. "Hero! Don't be shy, man, the people love you!"

The young man looked away, at the big image of the Earth, trough the ample window. "The people loved my brother. He WAS Hero".

Brian Dead stood in front of the window that looked at planet Earth. "Yowza..." he repeated every couple of minutes.

"Impressive, isn't it?" came a voice from Brian's left. Someone had been standing there all along but Brian was so absorbed by the sight of the planet he didn't didn't notice until now. It was the armored japanese, A.C.K. 2.0.

"Yeah, never seen anything like that..." Brian said, "and I've seen some funky weird stuff in my death."

A.C.K. smiled. He seemed like a friendly person. "So, what's your story? No offense, but you seem kind of out of place between all these people."

"It's a long story..."

"I have nothing better to do right now. There's still some people that have to get here before we can have the meeting."

"Well, short version is, I died and got brought back to life by a gang of Voodoo Punk/Trash Rockers. They hoped I'd be evil and eat brains, but I turned out to be an okay guy... better than I was before dying, at least. I also discovered I have weird-ass precognitive powers. Sometimes I find myself living a couple of hours in the future, and when I realize what's going on I come back to the present."

"That's cool," ACK said.

"Sometimes. I can't control it, though. Anyway, since I have nothing to lose, being dead and all, I decided to make myself this suit and fight crime. I guess someone noticed what I was doing in my hometown, because I got a letter the other day saying the Strikeforce wanted me. Though all I've got till now is weird looks from the other members..."

"Well, to be honest I'm glad you're here," ACK looked at the rest of the team, talking about their nemesis and scientific discoveries. "I have very little in common with these guys. I feel like this is one big video game I got sucked into..."

"I know what you mean. This is all like a big B-movie to me. Except I'm the only zombie and there's no aliens or vampires..."

"Yet," ACK added. "You never know what we'll bump into in the future..."

The teleporter fired up again and a bright green lizard man dressed in black appeared. He was stanting on his hands. "Apparantly the teleportation process is not a hinderance upon my equalibrium." The lizardman flipped over, landing on his feet with a smile on his face. It was a very nice smile even though it had quite a few sharp teeth in it. "I suppose this where the new Strikforce is to meet. Unless I took a wrong turn and ended up in a new Las Vegas casino that is. In either case, I am Dr. Harvey McNeil, but you may feel free to call me Harv or the more colorful moniker of Freak."

"It would have been funnier if you would have run into us." Commented Brian Dead.

"I'm sorry?" Freak replied.

"Well, he just said 'You never know what we'll bump into in the future' before you appeared." Brian indicated A.C.K. "It would have been funnier if you would have bumped into us and then he could have said 'see what I mean?'

"Ah, yes. I can see how that could be quite humoprous. I'm afraisd I'm a bit too physically adept to go about bumping into people. I'll keep your suggestion in mind for the future however."

"Yeah, it's not a big deal."

Graviton walks up to Brian Dead. "Hey."

Dead flicks his eye around the room and smiles strangely, wondering why the strangely-costumed man is talking to him. "Uh... hi."

"I don't just shrink, you know," Graviton said.

"Oh?"

"No, that's just one of the things I do."

"Ah. Interesting. So... what else do you do?"

"I can, uh... grow, too."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. Really big."

"Oh. Well, that's cool. Um... how big?"

"Big. Really big. Well, not extremely big. I mean, I can't grow as tall as the Empire State Building or anything like that."

"Heh. Yeah, that'd be pretty big."

"Right. But I can't get quite that big. More like a three-story apartment building. Maybe four stories tall for a brief time. But not more than that."

"Ah."

"I just didn't, y'know... want you to think that all I can do is shrink."

"It's no problem, man."

"My assistant, Ursula -- she's female, but we're not... y'know, a couple or anything like that..."

"No?"

"No, she's just a lab assistant. It's platonic."

"Ah."

"And, uh... my crimefighting partner, too, I guess."

"Okay... that works out fine for you, then."

"Yeah. Anyway, my lab assistant and crimefighting partner Ursula shrinks."

"Oh. Cool."

"Yeah, she has these little wings that she can fly whenever she shrinks to a small size. Pretty fast, too. I invented them. The, uh... the wings, I mean."

"Very interesting..."

"Yeah, I like to think so. Anyway, I shrink whenever I need to, but I usually leave the shrinking to Ursula. Or Ladybug."

"'Ladybug'?"

"That's Ursula's code-name."

"Right, right."

"We make a pretty good team. Platonic, of course."

"Of course."

"I just wanted you to know that I can grow really big, too. Not just shrink."

Brian Dead sighs and says, "Look, Graviton, I'm flattered. Really I am. But I'm straight. I'm not into guys. I like the ladies."

"But..."

"Hey, maybe you should go talk to that Elemental-guy when he gets back. He looks like he might take it up the ass once in a while."

"But..."

"Anyway, it's been nice chatting with you. I've got to, uh... go over there, now. Seeya."

"But... but I'm not gay..." Graviton mutters to himself. "... am I...?"

Inevitably enough, the humming sound of the transporter tube begins once more.

Three figures materialize within the tube, and they step out. One man with two women.

"Great!" Jack Merlin says with a toothy grin as he looks around. "The gang's all here."

"Almost," Wilhelm Tell says. "The Elemental left suddenly because he sensed that the Ent... er, his evil tvin vas at vork down on the surface. He said he'd be back in the morning."

"Oh," Jack Merlin says. "Well, other than the Elemental, it looks like Strikeforce 3 has enough members to begin our meeting. For those of you who haven't met them yet, I'd like to introduce you to these two lovely ladies."

Jack Merlin places his hand on the shoulder of a young woman with red-and-black-polka-dotted wings on her shoulder. "This is Ladybug. She's Graviton's lab assistant and crimefighting partner."

"We're not a couple, though," Ladybug says with a wink and a come-hither smile. "I'm single and looking." Ladybug makes a mock pose as if she's a model.

"Right," Merlin says with a puzzled expression. He gestures towards the taller woman, an Indian woman dressed in an exotic costume from India. "And this is Sasikanta, our team's own sorceress."

"You may call me Moonstone if you wish," the woman says. "That is what Sasikanta means."

"Are you single, too?" someone shouts, causing everyone to laugh.

Moonstone does not deign to answer.

Jack Merlin speaks again: "All right, team, I'd like to begin the meeting as soon as possible. Hero, would you do us the honour of reading the Roll Call?"

"Me?" Hero says quietly. "But..."

"You'll do fine," Graviton whispers.

"Just try to project your voice a bit more," Wilhelm Tell adds.

"All right," Hero says, taking a eNotebook which has several names on the screen, each one next to a check-box. He moves the names of all those present to the top and begins to read them out.

"Uh... ACK? Am I pronouncing that right?"

"Yes, that is correct. I am here."

"Good..." Hero says, checking off his name. "Um... Brian Dead?"

"Right here."

Hero checks off his name. "And, uh... the Freak."

"Present and accounted for."

Another check-mark. "Okay, then... The Elemental? No, he'll be back soon. All right... Graviton?"

"I'm here."

"Hero. That's me. So, who's next? Looks like... Ladybug?"

"Right here, handsome."

Hero's Irish face becomes completely red, and he averts his eyes from the group for a moment. "Um... Moonstone, or Sasikanta?"

"Let us use Moonstone," the sorceress says. "Most people would seem to be more comfortable with that."

"I'll make a note of that," Hero says. "Okay, and finally... William Tell."

"Wilhelm Tell, actually."

"Oh, sorry. Wilhelm Tell. Got it. And Jack Merlin is here, of course, though he's not officially part of the team."

"Thank you, Brandon," Jack Merlin says. "You obviously have the same kind of potential that your dear, departed brother had. We'll work on your public speaking later."

Hero smiles uncomfortably and sits down.

"All right. The first order of business is our new headquarters. As all of you know, this is an old converted Soviet space station given to us by a grateful Russian government. This is where all of our team meetings will be held due to the security in its remote location. Although there are living quarters here for those who may have to stay for an extended period of time for some reason, this place is not your home. I want each of you to remain among the people, the countries, you serve with your powers. You will only use this satellite headquarters when we have a meeting or if you are scheduled for monitor duty."

"Monitor duty?" Brian Dead exclaims. "You're kidding us, right?"

"Not at all, Mr. Dead. We are connected to several satellite television feeds from around the world. Graviton can show you the monitor room after this meeting is over. It consists of several television screens and a highly-advanced communication system with which we can contact almost any government at a moment's notice through a dedicated line. It is imperative that we always have one Strikeforcer on duty at all times. After all, a crisis never arrives when we expect it.

"All Strikeforce 3 members have each been given personal communcation devices which will signal each of you whenever an emergency requires your services. Now, although it is left up to each of you whether or not to respond to a call, I ask you to seriously consider responding promptly to every call you can. Although the Strikeforce is much larger than the group gathered here today, not all of our members can respond at the same time, and some Strikeforcers may only be able to attend on a sporadic basis. I ask each of you to consider making a much greater commitment of your time, however. We have a world to protect."

Waiting for the return of Elemental, the meeting was disbanded, and the various members of the Strikeforce went to check the various spaces of the relatively small space base, ending quickly to regroup in the monitor room, wherea towering composition of monitors were feeding news from around the whole planet.

But not all where there.

One of them retired to a small, dark room, where Merlin was waiting for him.

"Well, what do you think of the arrangement?" asked Jack to the shadowy figure.

"Uhmm... it seems a tin of beans... what there is here better than in the Sahara base?" said the shadowy figure.

"It's obvious, no? The mistake I did previously was to threat metahumans like normal soldiers... I had them going trough training, I had them living all together in the Nibiru or the Northern sea oil drill base... In the end, I had a bunch of people ready to do anything I would have ordered... only that when they were cut away from me, got totally lost.
Superheroes... being them metas or not... are not soldiers... each of them is special... they are like those soccer stars... like Baggio, Del Piero, Ronaldo... Maradona... do you remember how Maradona was playing?"

"Sorry, I am not into soccer..."

"Well, it's not important. Just, those players can win a game on their own... but if you box them in fixed schemes, you nullify them... they become useless. The same is with superheroes... you can't build an army of superheroes. Each one of them is different... each one of them thinks to be better than the other ones. They don't believe their life depends on their other comrades... they believe to be perfectly able to provide for themselves in case of danger...
So, I have to give them freedom. They must believe I am simply managing the financial support of the team, but that for the rest they are on their own. see, I have even avoided to provide them matching uniform. I simply will give them improved version of their self-made costumes."

"You are telling me that they will chose the mission to perform, Merlin?"

"Yes. For now. what interest me is that team-play is born out of their missions. When they will be ready, I will manage to send them to la Perdita to apprehend the Vanguardians."

"And then, Merlin? You will have your vendetta, but the Strikeforce will be just another Vanguard. Indipendent, superpowered beings that will not support you in your schemes... they will stand in your way, I am pretty sure..."

"Eh, I know well. Just, you see, shortly after the destruction of Vanguard, this twenty-plus year old satellite will finally break apart... sadly, the complete lineup of the Strikeforce 3... minus you, obviously... will be assembled here, in that exact moment."

"Ehe. And then?"

"Then the Strikeforce 4 will emerge from the Sahara base. And will set its boots over the planet."

The end