✧ ✧ ✧

ᴄʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ ᴛᴡᴏ: ʙᴜʀɴɪɴɢ

❝ ᴛʜᴇʏ'ʀᴇ ᴄʀᴀғᴛʏ sᴏɴs ᴏғ ʙɪᴛᴄʜᴇs, sᴏ ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʙᴀᴄᴋ. ❞

✧ ✧ ✧

Two weeks earlier. Corporation HQ, Eastern United States Branch.

The two leaders stood side-by-side, keeping silent as they studied the figure on the other side of the glass.

"I believe congratulations are in order," Curtiss addressed his colleague, a twitch of a smile forming on his face as he glanced from the captive to his counterpart. "He's quite a catch, Eugene."

"One of Hydra's finest," Eugene's gravelly voice informed, a gleam forming in his eye as spoke, "Fast. Clever. An impeccable shot. He's the perfect candidate."

"Like I said, the highest of congratulations."

"If we get this right, it'll be a breakthrough for Corporation."

"When we get it right," Curtiss corrected, motioning for his fellow leader to follow him as he turned and walked out of the cell area. "All we need is the one missing piece and we're guaranteed success."

Eugene shoved his hands in his pants pockets and pursed his lips in uncertainty. "It's that piece that I'm worried about. You know very well that the likelihood of bringing him in and following through with his consent is exponentially slim."

Curtiss gave a sly smirk as he clamped a hand on Eugene's shoulder. "Who said anything about consent?"

✧ ✧ ✧

Arms Division. Corporation HQ, Western United States Branch.

Konik strolled through the expansive armoury, doing his routine check to ensure that all of his underlings were doing their jobs correctly, and completing a mental inventory of all of the weapons.

He knew the entire facility, all of its employees and all of its contents like the back of his hand. It was his life.

Satisfied with what he observed, he made his way over to his own workstation, placing the folder he'd been tightly clutching down on the cluttered surface. He scratched the light stubble on his cheek as he reached for the half-full can of RedBull sitting atop the mini filing cabinet next to the desk.

The liquid was an unpleasantly warm temperature and had lost most of its gas; Konik was almost sure that it was at least two days old, but he downed the remainder of the can anyway. Despite its deterioration, the liquid still contained his needed dose of caffeine.

With a soft grunt, he set himself down in his chair and flicked open the folder, scanning his eyes over the pages inside. It was a draft of his proposal to the Corporation; one that would request permission to allow him to steal a powerful weapon called the Solar Rifle, something that he'd been itching to go after for quite some time.

The sudden hush that fell over the room drew Konik's attention to his superior, who had just entered the lab and was swaggering towards him with a smile.

"Sir," the weapons specialist greeted with a polite nod of his head.

"Konik," Curtiss returned the gesture, arching his brows as he caught sight of the massive gun resting on a platform just behind the desk. "Damn. Now that's a gun!"

Konik perked up at Curtiss' words, standing up and chuckling delightfully as he reached over and took the gun from its holder. "This? Oh, this is nothing. If I can steal the weapon I have in mind, it will outsell any of these babies!"

"Hahaha!" Curtiss laughed heartily, patting Konik on the back enthusiastically. "You go after these things like they're candy! You're just the man for the job I have in mind!"

Konik's fervour faltered. "A job, sir?"

Curtiss nodded in confirmation. "While I admire your devotion to stealing the Lunar Rifle-"

"Solar Rifle."

"Yes, of course," Curtiss flashed another smile as he continued, "I have a different job for you. I need you to steal the Machine Man."

Konik had confusion written all over his face as he furrowed his brows and leaned forward a bit. "You want me to steal a... person?"

"Technically, he's a robot."

"With human-like mental and physical qualities."

"Are you saying it would prove too much of a challenge for you?"

"No," Konik cast his gaze downwards and shifted his feet, frowning slightly, "'Course not, sir."

"Wonderful," Curtiss tossed a final beam at his employee before turning and walking off, leaving a dejected Konik to fiddle with papers on his desk.

"Oh, and Konik?" the leader stopped in his tracks to deliver one last piece of information. "If you're successful in your mission, you'll have top-level clearance to pursue any and every weapon your heart desires."

✧ ✧ ✧

Present day. A baseball field somewhere in New York.

Machine Man and his best friend, Dr Spalding, were walking away from a heated argument that had erupted between a group of soldiers – courtesy of Machine Man's enhanced playing abilities. His talents had allowed one team to emerge victorious over the other, something the losing side saw as rigging the game.

Spalding grabbed a hold of his friend's robotic arm and dragged him towards the gap in the fencing around the field. "This is our cue to remove the bone of contention – you!"

"I don't expect I'll ever win a popularity contest," Aaron chuckled softly, referring to his recent obliterated reputation with the public.

The two walked in silence until they were nearly at Spalding's car. Then, Aaron piped up.

"Hey, didn't you mention something about a lawyer showing up?" he quizzed, reaching out to open the passenger door and climb in, "A guy recommended by a friend of yours?"

"Miles Baker," Spalding nodded, securing his seatbelt and sticking the key in the ignition, "He's probably at my hotel right now. I hired him to act as your counsel at the hearings."

"Are you sure we can trust him?"

"He comes highly recommended. I'm positive."

✧ ✧ ✧

Temporary apartment. Brooklyn, New York.

Brendon and The Hounds were gearing up – setting up their comms and attaching various weapons to their holsters – as The Director's voice emitted from the cellphone in the middle of the dining table.

"Machine Man – or Aaron Stack, rather – hasn't given us any reason to believe that he might be hostile, contrary to what the public thinks," Fury explained through speakerphone, "And Dr Spalding has worked as an associate to S.H.I.E.L.D before. There shouldn't be any reason for you to worry about them. The Corporation, on the other hand, are a pain in the ass. They aren't as formidable as Hydra, so you four should be fine, but they're crafty sons of bitches, so watch your back."

"Thank you, sir," Brendon spoke as he secured his watch around his wrist, tapping it to make sure that it was working, "Is there anything else we should know?"

There was a slight pause before Fury answered. "Wear something fire-resistant."

Looks of confusion were traded around the room but the line went dead before anyone could question the piece of advice. Roman walked over to the uniforms and picked up a couple of flame-retardant vests, tossing it to the other guys.

"You guys wanna run through the plan one more time?" Seth asked as he caught the vest and slipped it on over his usual gear.

His questioned earned him a groan from Dean, who always got annoyed at his teammate's methodical way of thinking and overbearing need to constantly have a plan. He was much more of a take-it-as-it-comes guy, himself, and preferred to go into missions with no strategy whatsoever and whatever happened, happened; that was how he got through most of his childhood, anyway.

Their distinctive personalities were what earned them the monikers 'The Architect' and 'The Lunatic', respectively; Roman was 'The Big Dog' – a title that was pretty self-explanatory. They all brought something unique and incredibly valuable to the group, and that was what made them so dangerous. They were a force to be reckoned with individually, but put them all together and they were virtually unstoppable.

"I think we're good, uce," Roman patted Seth on the back in reassurance; the younger boy's attitude deflated slightly.

Brendon's phone buzzed with a text notification and he reached for the device to read the message aloud.

From: Dallon Weekes

You might wanna check out the present I left for you in the silver box. Should come in handy if there are any flames today.

No need to thank me. ;)

Brendon tucked his phone away and walked over to the box, sighing happily as he saw what was inside. "Dallon, you fucking beauty."

✧ ✧ ✧

Dr Spalding's hotel suite. The Lux Hotel, New York.

Aaron sat on a chair on one side of the hotel room, forearms resting on his knees as he surveyed the lawyer rustling through papers at the desk on the opposite end of the room.

"Are you familiar with the facts, Mr Baker?" he questioned.

"Aaron's very existence is at stake," Spalding joined in, moving to stand midway between the other two men, clasping his hands behind his back.

"I know," the lawyer nodded, though he didn't turn to face them just yet, rather busying himself with the papers in his briefcase, "He's the social issue of the century."

"How do you plan to present his case?"

"Simple. We must first eliminate public fear of a powerful machine in their midst," he informed as his hand carefully slipped in between the paperwork to clasp a hidden gun, "He must reduce his image of being a walking arsenal. The tiger must begin to look like a lamb."

Aaron took this as his cue to stand up and stride over until he was only a few feet away from the man. "Are you suggesting that I strip myself of all my defence mechanisms?" he hawked.

"Joe Average sees them as attack mechanisms," the lawyer countered, turning to face the other two but making sure to keep the weapon concealed behind his back, "Understand?"

Machine Man simply stared at him and the lawyer took this as a sign to continue. "To gain the public trust, you've gotta disarm completely – act shy and helpless! Show me the underdog that doesn't win the sympathy of the crowd."

"What do you think, Spalding?" Aaron turned to his friend with questioning eyes, looking for some kind of advice. "He might have a point."

"I don't like it," Spalding voiced almost immediately, "Knowing the human mind as I do, a helpless Machine Man might become fair game for some... opportunist."

"I can't deny that," the lawyer conceded.

Aaron stood completely still and silent for a moment, running over everything in his head. He didn't want to give up his abilities, not in the slightest, but at the same time he needed to have the public on his side if he ever wanted to have a chance at a normal life. And a normal life was all his father had wanted for him; that's why he took him in and gave him as much of a human appearance as possible. His father was murdered because he saw the good in a robot; the least that robot could do was disable his mechanisms so that the rest of the world could see the good in him, too.

"If that's what it takes," Aaron sighed after a moment, "Fine."

"Careful, Aaron," Spalding warned, placing a protective hand on his friend's chest.

Ignoring Spalding's protest, the lawyer smiled at Aaron. "Do you have a central unit which can disarm your weapon systems? That one act will improve your case by at least eighty percent!"

"It won't do a thing for my good looks," Aaron explained his actions as he brought both hands to the back of his head to remove the covering of his face, "But it'll expose the other face of Machine Man."

Aaron's gesture revealed his real, robotic face. There was a button with his model number – X-51 – engraved on it in the middle of his forehead, and he took a deep breath as he pressed down on it with one finger.

"There," he said, "I did it, Baker. I stand before you unmasked and unarmed." Aaron straightened his posture and tilted his head slightly as he stared intensely at the man before him. "Isn't it time you did the same?"

"I-I don't understand," the lawyer took a step back in alarm, "What do you mean?"

Machine Man rushed forward in a flash, shoving the man back onto the desk as he tried to reach for his pocket.

"Let me go!" he demanded.

"My guns may be holstered, sir," Aaron spoke calmly, effortlessly holding the man down, "but my sensors detect a questionable kind of metal in your pocket."

Swiftly, Aaron retrieved the gun from the lawyer's pocket.

"What the hell is that thing?" Spalding questioned in shock.

"It's a highly sophisticated handgun that shoots sonic beams," Aaron answered, holding the weapon out, "And we all know what that can do to my circuits, don't we? My guess is that he's a Corporation mutt, sent to try and capture me." Machine Man angrily grabbed the man by his collar, lifting him high into the air with a snarl. "Well, you failed! The tables have turned."

Suddenly, a large blast erupted, sending Aaron, Spalding and most of the furniture in the room flying through the air. Aaron pushed himself up and looked to Konik, who had opened his coat to reveal a weapon the machine's sensors couldn't detect – one made from plastic that was capable of delivering a king-sized jolt.

"You're very innovative for a hit man," Aaron chuckled shortly as he stood up, "But I can still meet that challenge without firing a shot!" One of his extendable arms shot out, ripping the contraption from Konik's chest and sending it flying out of the window.

Konik grunted as he reached for the discarded sonic pistol on the floor, standing up and training it on Aaron once he had it in his grasp. "You talk too much."

"I can afford to!" Machine Man lunged himself forward and did a front flip over Konik's head, yanking him along with him and wrestling him to the ground. "You see, mister-whoever-you-are, I'm just naturally faster than you are! Any old computer will tell you that!"

Aaron lifted him from the ground and pressed him up against the wall. "Now, spare yourself the trouble and talk about the Corporation!"

"If I were you, I'd tell him something," Spalding shuffled over, "How about your name, for a start?"

The wall behind Konik began to crack as Aaron applied more pressure in his grip. "It would take absolutely no effort to push you through this wall!"

"I can't see a damn thing! If you give me back my glasses, I may regain enough composure to talk," Konik replied smoothly, referring to his pair of spectacles that had been tossed to the floor during the struggle.

"He's playing it too cute, Doc," Aaron sucked on his teeth as he looked at the glasses suspiciously, "Check it out."

Spalding furrowed his brows as he picked up the specs and examined it. On the surface, it looked like an ordinary pair. However, with some help from the doctor's fingers, the front lens gave way to expose a golden-coloured replacement.

Suddenly, as a ray of sun shone through the window and into the front of the lens, a torrent of fire exploded out of the other end, sending the entire room into a pit of flames.

"Shit! It was solar glass!" Spalding exclaimed as he dropped the glasses and crushed it with his foot; but the damage had already been done, and the flames were spreading rapidly. "The entire room is on fire!"

"Don't panic," a cool voice resounded throughout the heated room as Brendon strolled in, sporting an impressive-looking weaponry glove on one hand, "that's what this dickhead wants."

Aaron and Spalding stared at their newest guest in confusion, too shocked by the sudden appearance of another person to even move instinctively.

"Who..." Spalding started, sputtering, "who are you?"

"All in due time," Brendon responded, rushing forward towards the flames and aiming his weapon at it. He looked over at the other two momentarily. "Gentlemen, I'm gonna have to ask you to step back."

As soon as they did, Brendon's glove emitted a shock blast that counteracted the effects of the solar glass, acting like a vacuum and essentially draining all fire from the room.

When the flames had cleared, Aaron yelled out. "The bastard's gone!"

Aaron and Spalding rushed to the window and peered out of it, as Brendon hung back.

"Maybe he made it to the window and-" Spalding started, but got cut off by his friend.

"No, he didn't jump," Aaron shook his head and pointed to a helicopter in the sky, "Look!"

"They must've been waiting for him! Hell, he was prepared for everything!"

A dry chuckle echoed throughout the room, and the best friends turned to look at its source – Brendon.

The S.H.I.E.L.D agent offered them a smirk as he removed the singed glove from his hand. "Not everything."

~

A disgruntled Konik moaned in pain as the helicopter pilot helped him inside of the airborne vehicle.

"Thanks for the assist, Mungo. That asshole had me tagged."

"My orders were to pick you up and that's what I did!" Mungo replied abrasively. "Now let's buzz off!"

"I totally bombed out on this one," Konik complained, rubbing his temples as he shifted uncomfortably in the back of the copter, turning his body so that it was facing the open door. "But I'll get him next time."

"You'd better!" Mungo warned. "The Corporation allows you only two tries. After that, someone else will try."

Konik didn't even have an opportunity to allow the ominous words to sink in, because almost as soon as they were spoken, a pair of combat boots met his chest in a harsh kick that sent him flying against the side of the copter.

He let out a groan and tried to push himself back up, but a figure clad in black swung into the helicopter, and rushed to hold him down, preventing him from moving at all.

Seth gripped the weapons master by his hair, forcing him to look up at him. "You can thank your boss for this," he smiled sardonically before injecting him with a drug that would knock him unconscious for a few hours.

In the meantime, the rest of The Hounds had entered the chopper as well, and Dean had slid himself into the co-pilot seat.

"Hi," he extended a lively greeting and a wave to Mungo before balling his hand into a fist and delivering a sucker punch to the pilot, knocking him clean out as well.

"Dude," Seth complained from the backseat, throwing his hands out in disbelief, "Why didn't you use the drug?"

"Violence makes my soul happy," Dean replied mockingly as he and Roman moved Mungo's body out of the seat and Roman took the wheel.

"Buckle up, boys," the Samoan warned, "It's gonna be a bumpy ride."

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Thank you for reading x