His Stepping Stone, Their Entrance.

Marines bursted through the door, gunslinger took a door out the side, he saw a tank aimed right at him. The tank shot at him. Gunslinger already had his weapon readied, He took a shot and his bullet curved to intercept the mortar round The mortar exploded in the barrel, destroying the tank. Gunslinger took aim at the marines on the right. He did not need to aim, his bullets curved into the targets and dispatching them with ease. He worked his way to a helicopter. He did not have time to grab his weapons. Only what he could pick off the marines: An M4. He worked his way to a helicopter which was apparently deserted. Gunslinger hopped in and activated it. As the helicopter stirred up he continued to shoot people with the M4, Keeping them away from him. Soon he took flight and he could hear over the intercom, "Sir the target is stealing our bird. Awaiting orders?"

"Broken arrow 2 is launched, I repeat Broken arrow2 is launched, Over,"

Gunslinger pushed the helicopter as fast as he could. Things were about to get shaky.

((CONTINUE))

Harold looked up from his paper work and slowly took the glasses from his face. He picked up his paperwork and tapped it on his desk to align it, he shoved it in a manila folder and returned it to his desk. "Judging by your attire you are here upon the invitation I sent....I hope." he said as he looked her over. Harold sat back and ran his hand through his slicked back black hair, he paused for a second before sliding the bottom drawer open once more, and looked through some files. "Ah yes, Lyric." he said as he compared the pictures he had. "Please come in and have a seat, close the door behind you." he said with a smile. "Do you smoke?" he asked as he pointed to his mahogany box, the top was still flipped up and a wide assortment of cigars could be seen.

Harold paid no attention to her odd behavior, he had spent time with enough weird people to last him a lifetime. "Well Lyric" as he began he pulled a a brown pen with golden accents. He began to point at various parts of his file, most of her information was left blank, he didn't know much about her, other than her name, and she was special. "I have a proposition for you." after Harold spoke he moved his head into his arm and coughed into his sleeve. "You may or not have heard of the Organization F.E.A.R.E." the whole time he spoke he kept a charismatic smile across his face. "Whether you have heard of it or not is irrelevant." Harold looked up at Lyric to catch her gaze. "What is relevant is the invitation I am extending to you for your membership in this organization." as he finished he leaned back in his chair a bit and rested his arms, crossed, on his desk waiting for a response.

Harold nodded at her as she spoke. "But of course, once you accept the invitation, a task will be handed to you, the boss will be watching to see you progress." Harold bent over once more going through the files. "The boss wants you to go after this man, and engage him under hostile terms." Harold laid out another file. "Slamfist, the Brawling Aussie." he pointed the picture they had of Slamfist, it was one with his arms activated. "Do not under-estimate him, if you do it will be the end of you." Harold got more serious than ever now. "He seems to be generally against harming the opposite sex, but letting your guard down at all may be a mistake. Like I said the boss will be watching at all times, so if necessary he will get you out of there." once Harold finished explaining he scooped up the files and placed them back in his drawer, this time however he pulled out a key and locked the drawer, he pulled out his previous paperwork and continued. "Return here after your encounter." Harold focused on his paperwork for a few moments before returning the glasses to his face.

Meanwhile…

Deep within the large circular room, the standard "command center" of one of the Deceivers many secret lairs, he stared at the strange proposition that had appeared on the screen on one his many computers, he had received it just a few days ago, and for those few days he had been wondering whether or not he should respond. In the end, he had decided he would at least give the man a call, if not simply to listen to his proposition… After all this organization he was mentioning could be useful, but it took quite a bit to garner the Deceivers loyalty, and even more to convince him to actually work with others.

"COMBINE…" The man called out, and not a second later a robotic voice answered.

"Yes sir?" The Deceivers analytical advisor responded, it had a sort of English accent, the type you would hear from a stereotypical butler.
"Patch me through to this number, and make sure to route it through several dummy lines and fake numbers… I don’t wish to be tracked."
"Yes sir, right away sir!" The A.I answered with a genuine sense of enthusiasm as it began to dial the proper numbers and ensure that the call could not be traced back, after all there was always a chance that this entire thing could be a trap.

---

A few minutes after Lyric left, the phone in Harold’s Office began to ring, the caller I.D simply read…

Harold grabbed the phone without looking at the caller ID, it was habit, he rarely skipped out on a phone call while in his office. "Harold Baxtor speaking." he said, obviously distracted by his paperwork. Harold's eyes never even moved over to the phone, he reached for it's exact location from sheer instinct, his eyes nor his attention never left the political documents that sat in front of him, it was a true testament to the commitment he had for his job.

"Hello Mr. Baxter" A rather "edgy" voice answered through the phone. "I am calling about a certain…" the voice paused, musing about how to continue. "proposal" you sent about a few days ago, it involved inviting certain people with certain qualities to a certain organization?"

Gunslinger saw a small pillar of smoke in the distance, the top of it lit up in a disturbing flash of light. The helicopter beeped twice every two seconds. This was a signal for a locked on homing missile. When the military wants something, they get it done. The problem with that is that gunslinger was he was militia as well. Gunslinger reached over to a button on his right. There was a pressurized exhaust. letting loose a handful of flares. Gunslinger watched the missile, It did not deter. This shocked gunslinger, it was remote controlled, not Thermal seeking. Gunslinger tried another tactic. He pulled some leavers and let go of the control. Stalling the motor, and dropping sharply in altitude. The missile continued to chase pitched down, still charging madly at gunslinger. He restarted the engine. And after a while he started to regain altitude. Gunslinger had one last idea, it had to work, it had to. Gunslinger pushed the helicopter at the missile. The computer read the estimated distance to the ground, as well as the distance to the missile. 1200 to the ground, 5000 to the missile. He was to high, he lowered distance, 1000, 800, 600, 400. He lowered at 200, It would have to do... He watched the distance to the missile sharply decrease. 5000, 3500, 1500, 500. Gunslinger watched the missile get bigger and bigger.Gunslinger took off his safety harness, and right at 25 feet to impact, gunslinger opened up the door and rolled out. right as the missile hit the helicopter. Gunslinger was hit in the gut with a leg stand of the helicopter, gunslinger took it and pointed it downwards, it was fairly easy to redirect due to the no gravity effect of free falling. When gunslinger was about to hit the ground, he used the pole to vault him more forward than down, It wouldn't kill, but it would hurt. Gunslinger dislocated his collarbone and tore himself up in the tumble. gunslinger yelled in pain. Using his good arm to push himself up. Gunslinger looked at the wreckage of the helicopter fall. Gunslinger took a look at the trail of the missile, leading right to his base. Gunslinger looked around, looking for the largest piece of debris he could find, the door to the helicopter. With a loud yell, he lifted it with his good arm, and ducked underneath it. Gunslinger covered his ears, squinted his eyes and waited. There was a massive explosion, followed by a wall of sand. Smoke scattered to the skies and fire could not get to the skies fast enough. The sand ripped off the paint and scattered the smaller shrapnel away from the blast. Gunslinger was safe, the door protected him. He did not move until all he heard was the whistling of fallout. Gunslinger pushed himself out of the door, taking off his shoes and his socks. He took his socks and shoelaces and made a sort of facial mask to filter the fallout. He looked in the direction of the Nuclear blast. The famous mushroom cloud enveloped the location of where his base once stood. Gunslinger was scared actually, the military would actually nuke danger-close for his death. Gunslinger walked away from the nuke. and away from the sun, east. After a couple of hours Gunslinger eventually came to a small ghost town where he would sit inside the nearest saloon. He would take a break and hopefully find some water.

Harold still focused on his paperwork "I am sorry, I have no idea what you are speaking of, if you wish to set up a meeting come to my office." Harold place down his receiver and all the Deceiver would here now is dial tone, it was far too risky to do this business over the phone, and Harold was no fool.

Bliss awoke hazily in a hotel room. Her head throbbed in agony. What happened? She remembered walking home in New York, and then. Then she remembered. Two men drugged her on the street and pulled her into a car. Hours must have gone by now. She put her hand down on the bed to hoist herself up, bracing her leg on the ground. She wobbled and fell back into the bed. Light shined dimly through the small crevices in the blinds. It must be daytime. I was attacked at night. She put both hands into the bed and lifted herself up, plopping her feet on the ground. Her converse found stability this time. She took a step and needed to brace herself against the wall to keep up. She brought her hand to her head to try and alleviate the pain. She still wore the black, pleated skirt with tights underneath, with a gray T-shirt with pink collar lining and a pink hoodie over it.

She focused on the coffee pot and slowly began vibrating the molecules. It shook at first and finally burst from the pressure. I have my powers back. She pulled a cup over to her with telekinesis and held it in her hand. A smile came over her face.

The door burst open, catching Bliss off guard. "Who the hell are you?" Bliss abrasively questioned.