"...back at Fenway, where the Sox are in a scoreless tie with the Royals. Bottom of the third with one out and a man on first, we come to the top of the batting order with J.D. Drew stepping up the plate. J.D flew out to center in his previous at-..."
CRASH!
The raucous clang of falling pots drowned out the radio, startling Bill Sampson into dropping his screwdriver into the middle of the half-dissembled air conditioner.
"Hey," yelled Bill, "Keep it down in there, I'm trying to listen to the game!"
The unruly mop of blond hair of Bill's younger brother Bart popped around the corner of the kitchen entrance.
"I don't know why you're even listening," Bart said, characteristic sarcastic smirk across his face, "They're gonna looooooose! RED SOX SUCK! GO YANK.."
Bart's blasphemy was muffled as the throw pillow hit him full in the mouth.
Bill's smirk mirrored his brother's.
"Just get back in there and finish those dishes, smart guy."
"All right, all right," Bart grumbled his way into the kitchen, "Dunno why I gotta do all the work around here, slave driver."
"Maybe if you'd get a JOB," Bill hollered, "you could get yourself off permanent KP. Until then, you're the maid, pal."
Bill smiled as he dug his screwdriver out of the pile of mechanical parts. It was good to have Bart around again, even if he'd had to pull every string in the book to convince the judge to release him into Bill's custody. Bart had a habit of getting into a little...trouble. He wasn't a bad kid, just a little wild and thoughtless. And his habit of "finding" things had gotten him into more than one scrape. But, then, occasionally that had its advantages. If only he wasn't a Yankee fan.
The job here at the residence section of the Burns Mini-Mall didn't pay all that well, but the work was steady and came with free housing. Bill had always been good with mechanical things and since his father had died his hands had been able to pay the bills. It was sometimes difficult without more than a high school education, but the internet was a treasure trove of manuals and schematics to help him along. It had been more than six years since those creeps at Crey had driven his father so far into despair that he'd taken his own life. It only seemed fitting that he used their cast-off equipment in his "special project".
He sighed as he removed the control board from the air conditioner. Mrs. Pfitzer had brought it to him three times already this summer, and it was only July. Bill wasn't sure how many times he could patch it up, but on her pension, he knew she couldn't afford a new one. She never paid him for it, but the steady stream of baked goods she brought over more than made up for it. Besides, growing up without a mother had given both Bill and Bart a fondness for the old lady's domesticity.
"...throw to first...and Ortiz grounds out to second, ending the inning. The Sox had no runs, one hit, one error and leave two stranded..."
This time the radio was interrupted by quite a different sound as the police scanner next to it squalled out a call.
"1-Charlie-15 to base! 1-Charlie 15 to base! Request immediate assistance! Holy crap, guys, no joke! I've got a convoy of Council vehicles coming out of the Talos Island tunnel and they're blasting away at everything that gets in their way! They've got a tank! Request immediate assistance! Request immediate assistance!"
"Copy 1-Charlie-15. Dispatching additional units and putting out the call for Special Powers Units."
Bill tossed down the screwdriver and control panel and stood up. It looked like Mrs. Pfitzer's air conditioner would have to wait.
Bart walked into the living room, tossing a dish towel back into the kitchen behind him.
"Sounds like a job for Nuke," he said, "right?"
"Let's go, Bart!"
He marched into the back closet and pulled out the false back wall, revealing the armor he used as Nuclear-Warhead.
"Help me with this breastplate!"
"Got it! Here's your boots! I'll get the leg units!"
"Where my right gauntlet? You know this won't work without it."
"Oops, sorry, here it is. Left it on the workbench this morning."
"Firing up the power! Detach the charging cables!"
"Clear. Boot assemblies connected."
"Suit sealed. All heads up displays reading green."
"Go get 'em, Bill! IT'S RADIATION TIME!"
Dust and loose papers swirled around the room as Bill activated his boot jets and soared out the sliding glass doors into the sky.
___________________________________________________________
The highway coming from the tunnel connecting Talos Island and Skyway City was a war zone. Explosions strewed rubble in all directions as the Council convoy made steady progress in their passage through the zone. Still more than three-quarters of a mile away, Nuclear-Warhead used his suit's capabilities to get a long-distance view as he sped toward the scene. The citizenry had fled soon after the convoy broke through the tunnel, leaving the highway littered with abandoned cars. Half a dozen armored personnel carriers accompanied by a slightly futuristic tank were busy blasting a path for the ten cargo trucks. Nearly a hundred Council troops crawled over the area, looking like ants as they pushed the convoy's way onto the southbound expressway.
The police band crackled in his helmet radio.
"All right! 1-Charlie-15 reporting help has arrived! Go get 'em, boys!"
In the distance, Nuclear-Warhead saw two small figures drop from the sky into the battle. He smiled as his on-board computer identified them. By the time he arrived, a red-bearded giant in a horned helmet wielding a massive war hammer had already pushed four of the trucks over the side of the highway and was in the process of cracking open the tank like it was a walnut. His gleaming hammer slammed heavily and repeatedly on the rapidly denting tank's armor as he screamed a war cry to Woden and Aesgaard. A metallic figure in the sky glittered in the failing sunlight as he flew behind the convoy, sending blast upon blast of energy into the rearguard, herding them in. Nuclear-Warhead waved to the Mighty Thunor and USAce as he positioned himself over the clustered group and sent waves of radiation down upon them, collapsing many of the troops and weakening the vehicles. The tank tore apart under Thunor's ministrations with an audible ripping noise.
"Ha!" cried Thunor merrily, "Your toys are sorely broke, my friends! Mayhap it was not in the stars today for you to travel."
He grinned as he rammed the two halves of the tank together lengthwise and slammed it to the pavement, using it as a plow to both truck and man before him. USAce's blasts made a similar barrier at the other end, fusing vehicles together to pen the fascist invaders in. Nuclear-Warhead flew above the crowd, selectively blasting apart any of the Council's weapons. Hemmed in and weaponless, the Council surrendered.
Nuclear-Warhead landed near Thunor, who was good-naturedly taking swings with the tank turret as if it were a baseball bat, while the local police wrapped up the rest of the now toothless Council.
"Thunor!" Nuclear-Warhead's electronic voice squalled, "Good to see you! Hey, I think the Sox could use you at the plate!"
The Storm God raised one eyebrow as he grinned at the man in the suit of green armor and completely let go of the turret on his follow through. It soared into the air and came down on the last intact Council truck with a CRASH!
"Friend Nuke!" roared Thunor, embracing his armored ally and lifting him off the ground, "'Tis indeed you! Your aid was most welcome. Surely I would have eventually torn yon tank asunder, but not with such efficiency!"
"But pray," said Thunor, setting Nuclear-Warhead down, "Where did USAce disappear to?"
"I'm right here, big guy!" Like a streak of molten steel, a metallic figure carrying what appeared to be a ranking Council officer joined the two adventurers. USAce, the human fighter jet, hovered a foot off the ground as he rifled through the officer's uniform.
"I remember guys like this from the war," he mumbled, casually tossing aside valuables in his search, "they don't do nothin' without orders, and they allllll got orders...AHA!"
USAce pulled out a packet of papers tied up with a string and casually dropped the Council officer to the ground. He opened the packet and began to shuffle through the papers.
"Do you remember USAce here, friend Nuke?," Thunor asked as he good naturedly dropped his hand on the top of USAce's helmet, "It seems he was our mysterious benefactor, the Avatar, at the climax of the Future-Man crisis! But said glory has faded and he is merely mortal again. He remembers naught since after the Great Nazi War, but he is one of us now, a hero born!"
"I dunno about all that, Red," USAce smirked, as he ducked out from under Thunor's massive paw, "It's mostly that I don't have much of anything better to do. Anybody speak Italian? I can't make head nor tails of this junk. Hey, Red, I heard back in the war that you can speak any language? How about it?"
Thunor clapped his hand down on USAce's shoulder hard enough to stagger him and let out a booming laugh.
"Ah, no, friend Ace," Thunor chuckled, "For centuries I was a wanderer and adventurer and such notions were for the scribes. I am late to this reading thing, only since the war, and only Danish. I may speak men's tongues only through the enchantments of Woden. Mine ears hear you speak in mine own language, and all hear my words according to their own speech. Reading I must learn like any mortal child."
Nuclear-Warhead grinned behind his faceplate and lifted the papers from USAce's hands. Always something new when you teamed up with Storm Gods.
"I can get it. I've got a good translation program in my on-board." He switched his faceplate to scanning mode and shuffled quickly through the pages.
"Looks like...some kind of shipping manifest. Bunch of spare robot parts from the early stages of their Zenith program. There's an address over in Faultline."
"Yon constabulary does seem to have these villains under their control," Thunor said, casually swinging his hammer around by its handle strap, "Naught need keep us from this investigation!"
He swung his hammer into the sky and flew after it in the direction of the Faultline tunnel. After exchanging shrugs, USAce and Nuclear-Warhead soared into the sky, following in the impetuous god's wake.