HAWKEYE

I knew that if I even blinked I was a dead man, but that wasn't what was important. I couldn't stop, not now. Too much depended on me concentrating. The fact that there were a pair of big hairy hands around my throat and I was about to pass out from lack of air certainly wasn't helping. If I tried to fight back then I was lost, and if I didn't I was unconscious. Talk about being between a rock and a hard place...

* last issue

* you have been reading West Coast Avengers, haven’t you?

Instead of a solution what it had popped out was a series of questions; questions Jack figured would get us on the right track. That was his big lead. At first I was pissed but I figured what the heck so I started checking out the list.

* in Hawkeye 7 - 9

** in Hawkeye 18

Eventually we had all the answers, at least to the first three questions. Now we had to wait while Jocasta's program considered what we had input. Jack decided it was time for a nap. He leaned back in the pilot's chair, closed his eyes, and was snoring within seconds. Must be nice to have such a clear conscience, or such an empty mind.

The computer console had a clever little hourglass icon that indicated we wouldn't likely have a result for at least another thirty-five minutes. I tried to follow Jack's example, but every time I closed my eyes I kept thinking about what Doc Samson and I had talked about. Maybe that was the trick, maybe I did need to think about it some. I decided to just let my mind relax and see if anything happened.

I tried to remember the day we had confronted Onslaught...

* as seen in Incredible Hulk 445

Old greenskin decided to do something about it. Falcon, Crystal, Vision and I figured we'd go along. At least we'd feel like we were making some contribution instead of hiding like rabbits in a burrow. Hulk planned to take the tunnels under Central Park to get beneath Onslaught. There was only one problem... there were no tunnels under Central Park. No problem, there were tunnels after the Hulk got there. He dug his way along and Crystal used her elemental powers to shore up the sides of the cavern. Vision went intangible and popped up to check on our progress. Just when he announced that we were close to Onslaught's position the mental attack began.

Hulk shook it off and tunneled upwards, bursting out right in front of Onslaught. The rest of us managed to get our wits together and followed. The two of them were already pounding the crap out of each other. Hulk bellowed, "Take him!"

I felt that same burning rush I always feel when I head into a battle. "He's took!" I countered.

* no, I’ve never seen Falcon use grenades before either. Don't blame me, blame Peter David & Angel Medina, 445 was their issue - Lonni

Then Onslaught let loose a blast and scraps of a green cape went flying, followed by Vision, with a great gaping hole in his gut. Then the attack turned to the rest of us. A fiery beam took Falcon right out of the sky, slicing off one of his legs. The next one headed for me.

I didn't have a second to react. The blast hit me in the head, the force shoving me backwards as the heat spread over me. I could feel my flesh burning off my face, and I smelt burnt meat as my skin turned crisp and dropped off in great blacked hunks. I was dead, I knew I was, but somehow I was still aware and able to watch the rest of the scene play out. Deep inside my head I was screaming.

The final shot clipped Crystal and sent her spinning to the ground. Then Hulk jumped on Onslaught from behind. He started hammering him into the ground, almost glorying in the brutality of his attack.

He was shrieking at the top of his lungs. "I did it! I DID IT!!!!!! They sneered at me or turned away from me... left me on my own! But, I did what they couldn't, and I'll make them choke on that!"

He glanced back over his shoulder at what was left of the rest of us, as we lay on the ground. Then that echoing voice started in our heads. 'The others are crippled or dead.. but that doesn't matter... at least... at least you 'got' me, right, Hulk?"

Hulk was triumphant as he replied, "That's ri..." And then it happened...

Everything jumped back a few minutes, just like the tape of life had been rewound. We were still in the gamma created tunnel under Central Park. Hulk hadn't broken through to the surface yet and the rest of us were undamaged. Hulk flinched and grunted "Eh?"

The voice of Onslaught echoed in our heads and in the cavern.

"How comforting to know just how important your 'allies' are to you. I'm sure they find it a revelation as well."

He had that right. But I could see that Hulk was just as stunned as the rest of us to find that Onslaught was in our heads, his thoughts to Hulk were for all of us, he was....

"Everywhere, yes. That was just one scenario, Hulk. There's many more I can and will provide. And every time you think you've triumphed.... you'll find yourself back where you started. And every time you die, you'll wonder if this is the true death... or if new agonies await you. Come to me, then Hulk... for all the good it will do you."

My eyes snapped open. I was still in the Quinjet, Jack was still snoring beside me and the on-board computer was still chugging away. It had all been a memory but suddenly things were getting a lot clearer. I remembered those thoughts that Onslaught had planted in my head, and, all of a sudden, I remembered a lot of others that had been planted there as well. What was really freaky was... there was a similarity, a tone or a texture to those dreams or memories that I had felt before. Whoever had been messing with my mind had done it before, I knew it and if I could just think a bit more I was sure I would know who it was. It was on the tip of my tongue but....

PING

Huh? Oh, it was the computer. Jocasta's program had finished its mechanical deliberations and had an answer for us. It had been Jack's idea so I shook him awake. I figured he had the right to check out the results first, although I was itching to find out myself.

All it told us was the co-ordinates for a spot in northern New Mexico, no further details. Well, it wasn't what we had hoped for, but it was a starting point. We took off.

I was a tad confused now. The direction we had gotten from the computer had landed us beside a warehouse for Conner Chemical in a pretty desolate area. That was the name of the outfit that Variable had worked for, the one where the industrial accident had given him his weird powers. That sounded ominous but still, it was private property and there was no outward evidence of wrong doing. I was getting ready to knock politely on the door when Jack just started kicking it.

"Agent! What the crud are you doing?"

"Goin' after the bad guys, what did you think?" He kicked the door again and I could see it starting to splinter.

I grabbed his arm and tried to yank him back. "Come on, man. We're the Avengers, at least I still am. This isn't the Frank Castle Amateur Hour."

He jerked away. "Sure, bowman. Tell me all about it." He snorted derisively. "You have to be kidding me. What do you need? A warrant? Man, there was a time when you would have been the first one to yell damn the torpedoes and been battering down the door before anyone else even had a chance to get out of the Quinjet."

Well, maybe he was right about that but it was different now. I was older; I had a responsibility to the Avengers, both branches of them. I was the leader of the best spandex team around. The general populace of the country had given me a mandate; they depended on me to protect them, in a mature and responsible manner. Besides, I had a reputation to maintain. I.... I....

I started kicking at the door.

Suddenly it burst inward. There, in all their yellow-garbed glory, were five very well armed heavies from A.I.M. glowering at us. For a minute we all just stood there looking at each other. Then the goons started to raise their weapons. I grabbed Jack's arm and dragged him with me as I dove and rolled out of the line of fire, well, at least out of point blank range anyway.

I spun a few feet away and came up to my knees, bow in hand and a blast arrow nocked. Jack was back on his feet and had already whipped off one of his photon shields and was charging back at the door like a bull elephant. The shield took down the lead man and I nailed two more with the blast arrow. Jack and the other two went crashing back into the building. I prodded the fallen, but they looked to be out for the count so I entered the building to see if Agent needed backup.

Oh, he needed help all right, he needed help to keep him from killing someone. He already had managed to get one of the A.I.M. men upside down in a big wooden crate and he had the other one by the throat and was slamming him against a wall.

"Okay, turkey, start talking."

BANG!

"Who are you and what are you clowns up to?"

BANG!

"Why have you been hassling my buddy, Hawkeye?"

BANG!

"Agent!"

BANG!

"Jack!!!"

BANG!

"Hey! You're going to kill him; he can't talk if he's dead!"

He stopped and let the A.I.M. agent slide to the ground. "Yeah, I guess I got carried away, didn't I? Okay, smart guy, why don't you try."

I knelt beside the guy and pulled his helmet off. His face looked pretty battered but he was awake, although he appeared really scared by this point. Looked like it was time to play ‘good cop, bad cop’. I gave Agent a covert wink and started to talk to our prisoner.

"Looks like you’re in a pretty tough spot, fellow." I put my hand on his shoulder and he cringed. "Woah there, partner, I’m not going to hurt you."

He tried to lick his lips, spat out a bit of blood and stammered, "No, but he is." He looked at Jack with terror in his eyes.

Cue the ‘good cop’.

"He’ll have to go through me first, I promise." I turned back to Jack, hoping he’d gotten the hint to play along. "Listen here, you star spangled cretin. You’ve done just about enough damage." He looked annoyed but he was holding back. Good thing, or I’d be mincemeat. I kept it up. "Get out of here and tie up the other clowns that you left lying all over. I’ll handle the interrogation here."

Jack muttered something I wouldn’t repeat in mixed company and then started to drag my prisoner’s companion back out to the door where the others were. He was really playing it up so I could get this guys confidence. At least, I hoped he was just playing. I turned back to business.

"Okay, he’s gone now and I won’t let him touch you again." I watched relief flow over his face, then I added the kicker. "At least, I’ll try not to." A moments hesitation now, to let him get a bit scared again. "Look, sometimes he’s a bit hard to control, especially if he thinks someone is holding out information on him." I lowered my voice. "You know, he’s not an Avenger anymore. We found some things just a little too hard to hush up, if you know what I mean."

That had him. He started to sputter, "Hey, whatever you want to know, I’ll tell you. Just keep him away from me!"

Bingo! Heh, heh, works every time. I pulled a pen and notebook out of a pocket and started to ask questions.

"What’s A.I.M. up to in New Mexico?"

"Not a clue. I was hired locally and so far all we’ve done is trot around in these stupid outfits and help load trucks."

I didn’t quite believe that. A.I.M. had never made it a habit to hire local talent. They usually had more than enough of their own fanatical henchmen to fill their ranks. Of course they had so many splinter operations going on around the world that I doubted one group knew what the next was doing. I ignored it for now and went on.

"Who’s the big boss of this outfit?"

"How would I know? Everyone looks pretty much the same in a yellow helmet. He’s a big guy, kinda chubby if you know what I mean. But I wouldn’t want to meet him in a dark alley. That’s as close as I could get to identifying him."

Terrific. This guy was about as full of intelligent conversation as the average guest on the Jerry Springer Show. Of course, maybe I wasn’t asking the right questions. I was about to try again when he spoke up.

"One thing about the big guy that is pretty unique is his voice. It’s really deep and gravelly but every once in a while it cracks. You know, a high sort of squeak in mid word. It’s sure death for anyone who laughs at him when it happens though. I remember, the first week I was here, seeing him blow a guy away just for snickering when his voice cracked."

Now that sounded awfully familiar. I should have known who he was talking about but it just didn’t click. All I knew was that, somewhere, I had come across this guy, or someone damned like him. Too many shots to the head, I guess. The memory was starting to go.

Back to business. I thought I heard Jack returning and I hadn’t gotten many facts yet, and what I did have certainly didn’t justify us busting into the place. Maybe it was time to try another track.

"Look, you said all you ever did was load some trucks. Load them with what?"

"That’s what I don’t get. We just loaded them with Conner Chemical stuff. Like why bother to hire a bunch of people, pay them a lot of money, make them wear funny outfits and then just have them do stuff they could have hired any grunt to do?"

"Why indeed?"

What the…??? I didn’t say that. My prisoner didn’t say that. And Jack didn’t say that. I looked up and there he was, a big guy with a gravelly voice, all dressed in a yellow beekeeper outfit. As soon as I saw him and heard his voice I knew exactly who he was. Damn, how could I have been so blind?!?

"Conner!"

He grinned behind his helmet. "Hello, Barton. It’s been a while, hasn’t it?"

Great, just great. Why doesn’t he just tell the world my real identity? "Not nearly long enough, Conner."

* it happened in Hawkeye’s first Limited Series

** way back in Marvel Fanfare 3

This time I really could hear Jack returning so I figured I’d stall a bit. "So Conner, you the one who had Taskmaster impersonate me?"

"That’s right, archer. I figured I owed you for all the grief you caused me back in New York. Besides, you were taking that kid under your wing, and I couldn’t have that. What befell to him was an accident, but once it happened I made plans for him. As usual, your meddling was getting in my way."

* the Variable, from assorted earlier issues here and in WCA

Behind his stupid mask he smirked. He seemed pretty confident for a guy who was facing an Avenger, especially since all of his trained henchmen were out of commission. "How you underestimate me, bowman. I approached A.I.M. shortly after Cross Technology went out of business. Their unfettered structure appealed to me. I could run my own sector pretty much as I pleased but still have access to their worldwide organization assets and information. But you wouldn’t think of that, would you? Of course you always were good at misreading people and situations. Just like you’re misreading this situation. You actually think that you have the upper hand, don’t you?"

But I did, didn’t I? Of course I did. I heard Jack step right behind me. I’ll admit it, I gloated. "Damned straight, Conner. Take him, Agent."

That’s when the world caved in. A hand grabbed me by the shoulder and whirled me around. It was Jack, and somehow he didn’t look like he was on the side of the angels anymore. He headed a haymaker for my jaw. I ducked out of the way. If you want to be really technical about it: I was still spinning from him whirling me around and I actually sort of fell out of the way of his blow. That’s sure not the way I’ll be writing it up in my memoirs, if I do get around to recording them. Right now I had other things on my mind.

"Jack, what the hell are you doing? You aren’t supposed to attack me. I’m the guy in the white hat. Well... it’s actually a purple mask, but you know what I mean."

That didn’t seem to phase him. He was advancing on me with a rather blank, but decidedly threatening, look on his face. Behind me I could hear Conner chuckling.

"You really don’t get it do you, archer?" Jack took another swipe at me and I dodged. Conner continued. "There’s no point in trying to talk your way out of this. Agent is mine now. It’s just like that old TV show; I control the horizontal, I control the vertical. He does what I want, even if what I want means he has to kill an Avenger."

For once it looked like he was telling the truth. Jack kept advancing on me and I kept backing away. He had to be drugged, or maybe hypnotized. Whatever it was, it had made him sluggish. It was a good thing, too, otherwise I wouldn’t have been able to keep avoiding him. As I eluded his attacks I skirted around trying to position myself near the exit. I figured, with Jack slowed down the way he was, that I just might have a chance to bolt if I could get to the door. If I could get back to the Quinjet maybe I could radio for some help. Lord knows, I needed it.

I almost made it. Jack stumbled around the box that he had earlier tossed one of the A.I.M. agents into and I made a dash for freedom while he was slowed down. My dash came to an abrupt halt when a figure moved in the shadows of the doorway. It was a tall figure, at least my height, but skinny... man, if there was a hundred pounds spread over that skeletal frame then someone dropped a few ounces when they were spreading it. Then he stepped forward. I saw the yellow and brown costume, the high collar, the white skull face on the middle of his chest and his own white cadaverous mug grinning at me from above, and I knew I was sunk.

* no, you aren’t losing your memory, gentle reader, Headlok has made just one appearance in the mighty Marvel Universe, way back in WCA #10

"He’s been what?" I was only half paying attention to Conner. I remembered Headlok all to well, and knew that as soon as I got distracted from concentrating on him he’d be able to manipulate me just like he was controlling Jack.

Conner laughed. His sense of humor was starting to get on my nerves. He stopped his chuckling long enough to explain. "Surely you must have noticed all the unusual dreams and daydreams you’ve been having lately, Hawkeye. At my request, Headlok has been reviving some of your old buried memories, and inserting a few at the same time."

I edged carefully away. Had to keep my attention on Headlok, listen to Conner and keep out of Agent’s reach all at the same time. Damn, archery, my personal specialty, is a concentration skill; multi-tasking had never been my strong suit. Maybe I could distract Headlok though, by appealing to his already over inflated ego.

"So Headsie, sounds like you’ve expanded your powers a bit. All you could manage before was controlling the actions of anyone who wasn’t concentrating on you."

Headlok smiled but it was Conner who responded. "I gave him that ability. The chemical that gave that boy you call the Variable his powers turned out to be capable of amplifying and refining the powers of certain already enhanced beings. Our research boys were able to shape Headlok’s abilities and allow him to actually read the subconscious and bring those memories forward, modifying them as he did so."

Well that would explain some of what had been happening to me, but not all of it. No time to deal with that right now though. I had an A.I.M. section leader taunting me, an underweight megalomaniac waiting to take over my mind the moment I stopped consciously blocking his mental attacks, and a mind-controlled super dude being compelled to demolish me. If I could deal with Headlok, I could eliminate the third problem at the same time, and Conner had always been more of a delegator than a doer so.... I decided to use my second most powerful weapon, my mouth.

"Pretty cool, Headblock, you upped your powers but gave away your self-reliance. So now the banana boy says ‘jump’ and you ask ‘how high’. Geez, you practically took out the entire West Coast Avenger team all by yourself the last time we met." I shrugged and shied away from the advancing Agent. "Well, I guess, if you don’t mind having someone else calling the shots... wouldn’t be the choice I would have made but I imagine not everyone can deal with being their own master."

I could see he wasn’t looking very happy about what I had just said and I guess I got overconfident. I wasn’t paying attention and I tripped over an electrical cord as I stepped backwards. I was only off balance for a second, but that was more than enough time for Agent to take advantage of. He dove forward, his fingers closed around my throat and the whole game changed. And I think this is about where we came in.

I knew that if I even blinked I was a dead man, but that wasn't what was important. I couldn't stop, not now. Too much depended on me concentrating. The fact that there were a pair of big hairy hands around my throat and I was about to pass out from lack of air certainly wasn't helping. If I tried to fight back then I was lost, and if I didn't I was unconscious. Talk about being between a rock and a hard place...

Just before Jack grabbed me I had seen that flicker of uncertainty pass over Headlok’s bony face. If I could just hang on for a few more seconds. Black flickers were starting in the corners of my eyes. I could feel myself getting hot and cold and my legs were turning to rubber. It was over, I couldn’t hang on any longer. My knees buckled and I surrendered to the enfolding darkness, then a bellow snapped me out of it.

"NO!!!!!! I am my own man, and you can’t order me around any more." Hot damn! It was Headlok. He continued, "Let’s just see how you like being governed, Conner. Let’s see if you can handle the power of the mighty Headlok!"

He turned his attention to Conner, and forgot about US Agent. Next thing I knew, Jack was holding me up by the shoulders and trying to apologize for trying to kill me.

"Urgghh..." I cleared my throat a couple of times. Damn, he really had almost busted my larynx. I managed to squeak, "Now, while he’s not paying attention to you, clobber Headlok. It’s the only way to stop him. Go, man."

"And that’s how it ended, Gayle. Agent belted Headlok, but in the confusion Conner got away. I doubt he’ll be seen with AI.I.M. again, though. They don’t treat failures very well so he’ll likely cut his losses and run." Gayle Rogers had dropped over for the evening and I was telling her all about our latest adventure, with only tiny embellishments and deletions.

* Swordsman II and Magdelene left the WCA back in issue 107

We’d had dinner and a couple of drinks and talked about what had happened to me lately and now it was time to make a move. I slipped a bit closer to her on the couch, smiled my very best patented charming crooked grin and said, "So, Gayle, now that we’re all alone..." I let it trail off, hoping she’d fill in the blanks. She did.

She reached into her purse and pulled out a small tape recorded. "Sounds good, Clint. How about some details about your early life as an adventurer?"

I sighed. It was going to be one of those nights. "Sure Gayle. I remember one time, just after I had split from the team...."

Due to a hardware change I am without all of the notes I made about the dream sequences so the index I had planned may never appear. Next time, it’s a change of pace as Clint tells Gayle a short story about one of his early adventures. And for something completely different, there’ll be a backup story that my favorite bowman won’t even make an appearance in, but it will have long term effects on his life.

I’m glad to be back as an active writer and I hope the next issue won’t be nearly so late.