The Wildcard (Fantomex)

[razor]

Nick Fury

"Ain't you heard... Nick Fury's got more lives than a cat!"

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Wolverine was a bust. The damn idiot avoided Fury's surveillance. He should've known that he couldn't keep a track on one of the world's greatest trackers for long. He needed another one. Someone to round this team off. He couldn't go himself, he needed to be home for the execution protocol. It wouldn't work unless he was sitting there in his chair. Otherwise, they would have one of the most dangerous men on the planet running around as a Skrull.


His first idea was someone that was confirmed through not legitimate means. Some of the more public figures, but someone like Iron Man or Captain America just disappearing would cause some concern. He needed someone that was good at being under the radar. His next thought was Black Widow, but she didn't need to be wrapped up in this. He needed someone who was not concerned with the reason of this mission.
Just the man came to mind, but it wasn't going to be easy to track him down.


This took weeks to set up. But it was something he just knew that the White Fantom couldn't keep his hands off of. It was a convoy holding the world's most brilliant emerald, some were claiming. It was just mined and it was being transported off the coast of Siberia. The armored convoy had the top of the line security. The guards were highly trained, and some of the best in the world. They sent out a message DARING anyone to try and take it. They would be put down immediately.

---

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Tracker
Voice Example

[Ysmir]

"Cool. I always knew atheists would someday save the world."

---

Midday. Sun setting west. Convoy in sight. A stiff breeze breaks through the calm that settled, portending the stakes riding on the task ahead. If he failed, he was just another cog in the machine. So he could not fail. He would not fail. Otherwise, everything he had worked for up until this point was for nothing. That emerald would be his and his alone.

Earlier in the week...

"Intercepting transmission. Decrypting... This appears to be a warning sent out to any and all mercenaries and thieves operating within the confines of the international dark web. Translating now."

To all you freaks and geeks in the merc world who think you're something special, this is an APB telling you to stay the F$%K away from the Grey Falcon Personal Security Agency. You know who you are, and we know why you might want what we're moving. We're not going to tell you our location, and we're not going to tell you where we're going. We've seen the hits posted all over the dark web. We know that you're all out there rubbing your money-hungry, greedy little paws together thinking this will be an easy mark. But Grey Falcon doesn't screw around. Try anything funny, get cute, and we WILL put you down with extreme prejudice. Our boss is paying us far too much for anything less. This is the one and only warning you'll receive on behalf of our corporation. So you better be on your best behavior, or you'll catch a bullet. If you're lucky. -Albert Haldane, Grey Falcon Head of Security

It took Fantomex about two days to figure out where they were.

Truth be told, he was rather disappointed when his homework was done. The way this paramilitary organization talked themselves up, they certainly made it seem as though they would cover their tracks a little bit better. Were Fantomex a slightly more paranoid man, he may have believed that they were trying to be found. Hell, part of him still did...

But it didn't matter. If it was a trap, he'd be in and out before anyone even knew he existed. As always.

Siberia was bloody cold, though Fantomex would never voice his complaints. Luckily, with EVA detached from his body, the sub-zero temperatures didn't register on his senses, and his clothing did well enough to prevent his tissue from freezing without him realizing. He had been tracking the convoy traveling north to the coast for some time now, electing not to infiltrate them while they were moving. Such a thing would require far more effort than was necessary, and introduced all sorts of annoying possibilities that could crop up. To minimize potential issues, he decided to wait until they reached their destination; a small, frostbitten shipping port north of Nizhneyansk that sailed ships to much warmer climates for trade. Of course, what they were moving wasn't your usual trade good. Not even a little bit.

In a secure chest locked by the most advanced biometric security systems money could buy within the confines of an armored car boasting what amounted to a solid steel vault door lay one of the largest, pure, uncut emeralds that had been discovered in the last century. With an estimated value ranging in the hundreds of millions, it was a piece of financial leverage that could pay off Fantomex's undertakings for the next few years if he was smart. He simply had to have it.

If only for the bragging rights.

He sat atop a snowy hill overlooking the port settlement as the armored convoy filed in and began unloading all of their freight. He blended into the blizzard conditions like a ghost in his white suit, and his enhanced vision allowed him to see clearly through the snow flurries to the space below. There were few buildings, mostly inhabited by bundled up dock workers who were likely underpaid severely. There were no less than three dozen heavily armed caravan guards from Grey Falcon, outfitted with some of the best and most advanced weaponry and armor that money could buy. Security drones scanned the perimeter and kept watch through the use of infrared imagery to ensure no one got the drop on them, and Fantomex wagered that they all likely had a GPS and satellite uplink playing through their hard-sealed helmets that would relay their location to their contemporaries constantly and ensure that nobody went missing without someone noticing. He had to go in smooth, silent, non-confrontationally, bypassing line of sight and the infrared scanners of the drones, while somehow isolating where the secure chest containing the emerald was. Then, he had to have enough time with the armored car to not only crack the exterior door, but get inside and bypass the biometric lock keeping the secure chest closed.

"Not too bad. This could make me actually try," he said to himself. His breath was visible through his mask.

"I can begin scrambling their satellite uplink whenever you're ready, Fantomex." EVA floated by his shoulder, her color shifting to stark white to blend in with the environment.

"Soon," he said, beginning to descend down the snowcapped hillside, "wait until we're right under their noses. Then the fun shall begin."

[razor]

The men patrolling the envoy were cold. No doubt about that. Agent Johnson watched the rear, thinking he might've seen something in the distance. His partner, Agent Ramirez looked at him for a moment and chuckled.


"Getting cold feet, Johnson? You know what we're here to guard." She'd say, pushing him.


"I- no... Just thought I seen somethin' is all. Got some kids to get back to."


"You really think this is the right line of work for that? I mean, we're shootin' at mercs daily. No wife?" She'd ask, concerned.


"I-agh, no. She became one of the merc types as well... She left us in the dust with not a lot to our name."


"Hm... You'll have to introduce em to me after this, yeah?"


"Oh... Y-yeah!"


Inside the train, Captain Falcon stood. He watched the interaction and chuckled to himself before pushing the door open, startling the both of them. Captain Falcon was this big man with an eyepatch. He'd seen many fights. Rumor has it he even tangled with Crossbones and won.
He wasn't a guy to be messed with.


"Awlright kiddies, the station's comin' up. Weapons hot. We don't want anybody snatchin' this out from under our noses when we made it all this way, yeah?" He'd say, hefting his custom shotgun up to his shoulder.


The train would pull into the station. It was small. Remote. Perfect for the group. No reporters or civilians to wade through if something big happened here. Nothing but ice and snow. Agents Jekyll and Hyde would step out with a grin as the station owner stood outside waiting.


"We got yer diamond or whatever inside..." Hyde would say.


"Ya know, you could do for some more sun out here... It's CHILLY."


"Yes yes... Begin with the transferal."

[Ysmir]

"Cool. I always knew atheists would someday save the world."

---

Fantomex slid down the hill, his speed hastened by the frozen snow beneath him; whatever dustings he kicked up from his descent blended in with the constant flurry of ice that surrounded him and every single being in the area. One thing was for certain; Siberia was quite good for natural camoflauge. It hadn't ceased snowing since they arrived, and it presented a fantastic opportunity.

He made his way toward the station near the ship port, just in time for the deal to start going down. In all his research, Fantomex was never able to find out exactly who was being delivered the emerald and other things that these mercenaries were transporting. The utter lack of information on the buyers was more than a bit unnerving for the thief, who usually did his homework extremely thoroughly, but he figured it wouldn't much matter if he made off with his mark before anyone realized he was there.

Fantomex pressed his back up against a shipping container. He allowed a patrol of two guards to lumber past him towards the perimeter of the station. Whatever prints he left in the snow were quickly covered by the snow flurry.

"Alright, EVA," he began, crouching down, "scramble their optics."

EVA hovered high above the station as a tiny sphere, having a bird's-eye view of the entire port below. Obscured by the snow and mist, she made quick work of the infrared scanners on the security drones, emitting a miniature electromagnetic pulse that fried them without tripping any alarms in the process. The drones would continue to patrol the perimeter as normal, but were blinded to Fantomex's movements for the next few minutes.

All the time he'd need.

[razor]

The train car would lift off of the train, all but the wheels, to keep the connection. The car would set quietly on the brick padding and the man would enter into a singular door. On the other hand, there would be a similarly dressed man that walked to the front of the train, and spoke with the conductor, receiving an unassuming box from him.


The guards would keep watch, and Captain Falcon would try to tell his guards something.


"Package has been transferred, please respond." He'd say to nothing but static.


"Mmph, s-sorry, Sir! I don't see anything!"


"God DAMN it, Johnson. If you and Ramirez are done copulatin', we've got a job to do! Get your asses focused."


The guards would keep watch, not alerted to anything. They kept watch, thinking they saw something, but shrugging and moving on. Everything seemed to be going to plan.


For Fantomex, there seemed to be a window for one. Either the men exchanging something at the front of the train, or the heavily armored train car. Only one had the gem. There was only time to steal one before the transaction was complete.

[Ysmir]

"Cool. I always knew atheists would someday save the world."

---

Fantomex hoisted himself up to the top of the shipping container to get a better view of the station. From up there, he saw the transaction going down, and the armored car that his intel informed him about. Both of these were of interest to him, but only one held the information he sought. It was difficult to tell exactly where he'd find his mark, but there was more than what met the eye going for him. He would check the armored car first for two reasons...

Number one: If he misjudged and went for the transaction first, there was little chance he could take out the interested parties before they blew his cover and alerted the entire station to his presence. Then, it would be an all-out fight to defend the gem and get away, whether he successfully guessed where it was or not. That was more trouble than he wanted to attract.

Number two: If he checked the armored car and the emerald simply wasn't there, then he knew it had to be with the bozos talking at the front of the convoy. Then he'd have no choice but to engage, and plenty of time.

Not ideal circumstances, to be sure; but then again, it never was in his profession.

He leapt from the top of the shipping container and landed acrobatically in a silent roll across the snow. Slipping past a few more patrols, he put distance between himself and his insertion point as he grew closer to the armored vault car that might hold his prize. Like a ghost, he weaved between two intersecting patrols nearly in broad view of them, shielded from their sight by the thick snow and his all-white attire. Finally, after much meandering and careful movements through the small port town, Fantomex found himself face to face with the entrance to the armored car.

It was a fairly complex tumbler-based locking mechanism that had a variety of secondary security and safety measures built in, though nothing that he couldn't handle. Still, he'd need to buy himself an extra thirty seconds or so of time to guarantee that he could crash the deal if his emerald wasn't here.

Time for what il Fantoma was best at -- improvisation!

"EVA, dearest," he said lowly as he took out his multi-tool, beginning to pick his way through the lock, "let's give them some excitement. Something they'll remember."

As he continued to work at the lock, there was a shift in the air in the points-of-view of the many armed guards and other residents of the small port village. You see, when one was already prone to distrusting their senses, it was easier to misdirect them. These guards were jumpy, second-guessing every shadow and bit of movement they saw in the dense, snowy flurry.

Thus, when a few patrols saw several pairs of yellow, glowing canine eyes open behind the veil of fog and snow, it wasn't all that out there to believe they'd been being stalked by a pack of hungry wolves. The harrowing eyes were accompanied by the sounds of snow shuffling all around them, followed by growling, and a baleful howl that seemed to echo throughout the entire port...

[razor]

The guards moving around would look out, just past the edges of their field of view, and see yellow eyes peering out. One of the jumpier guards pulled out his gun and fired. This caused every single other guard to register this as a threat. This devolved into madness, even some friendly fire catching each other members of the troupe. Something that may have stricken Fantomex, if he weren't so tantalized by this emerald that was almost calling out his name, was that these guards had the strategy of a paintball team full of middle schoolers. Needless to say, the guards were more than distracted.


In the armored car, Fantomex was picking the lock with relative ease. While the lock was very complex and difficult, it was nowhere near the most difficult that Fantomex had ever seen. With no hang-ups, Fantomex was able to get the vault open. The steam would blow out of the hydraulic locks a the door began to slowly swing open... Behind it, Fantomex would find...

Nick Fury

"Ain't you heard... Nick Fury's got more lives than a cat!"

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Fury would be holding an emerald in his hand with a raised eyebrow. The ghost, Fantomex, would see Fury turn the emerald in his hand a few times before looking back up.


"Beat you here, frenchie. Gonna do something about it?" He'd ask, a slight grin forming on his face.

---

App
Tracker
Voice Example

[Ysmir]

"Cool. I always knew atheists would someday save the world."

---

"Et voila! See, EVA? How quickly amateurs fall prey to their own senses?" Fantomex sped up his picking of the admittedly complex locking mechanism. Though it was high-density tungsten steel with 12 tumblers and rated to stop a .50 caliber bullet, the thief would have it open in the next few seconds. He ignored the rampant gunfire sounding out all around him through the mist and snow. "Though I must say, I'm almost a bit disheartened by the lack of sport..."

A few taps here, and a few twists there, and Fantomex felt the last tumbler click soundly into place. When he next rotated the lock, it pulled the pins free from their prisons, beginning the multi-step process that would lead to the door opening for him.

Hydraulics hissed and gears whirred and ground together as the massive vault began to pull free from the frame. Then, a familiar voice buzzed in his ear.

"Be aware, Fantomex -- there is another energy signature within the vault."

"Quel?", he asked EVA, but she didn't have time to reply to him before the vault door fully opened and revealed the train car's contents.

Empty. Save for a rather gruff looking fellow with grey streaks running through the hair at his temples, and a prominent eyepatch that covered what Fantomex imagined to be a grisly wound. Not only this, but the man turned over in his hand the object of Fantomex's desires; the emerald.

Had he been played? Led into a trap? Bamboozled?!

No -- it was none of these things.

By the mystery man's own words, Fantomex had been beaten.

"Beaten...?" Him? The best? Fantomex looked at his hands. His fingers twitched as the cogs of his triple-brains turned. Something flipped within him, a switch that wasn't often touched. "Frenchie?!"

He looked up from his hands at his now-adversary and curled his fingers inward. Driven by a sense of futile rage, Fantomex dashed at the man and reared a fist back to attempt a swift jab to his chin!