The Misfits Ch's: 3 & 4

(Chapter 3)

Jake Pierce crouched over the corner of a rooftop with his sights locked on a subway entrance on the street below. His team had finally discovered the identity of a high profile serial rapist whom they'd been tracking for two weeks. So... Naturally, he was completely focused on making sure that they caught the sick fuck here and now.

"Purple? Come in Purple, can you hear me?"

Jake put two fingers two to his ear. "I hear you loud and clear Yellow, what's going on?"

"I just wanted to reach out to let you know that the rest of the team is in position, up and out of sight. All except for Blue, he's making his way to your location and should be there any second."

"Affirmative Yellow, let's do this right and get this piece of shit off the street so we can all go home alright."

"Affirmative!"

Jake took his hand from his ear and went back to staring down at the subway entrance. His team, the Misfits, were celebrity level famous in Brooklyn, so they all needed to be extremely cautious that they're not noticed. The sound of quickly moving footsteps came from behind him and Jake turned around to see his friend Dylan, aka Blue, moving in to crouch next to him.

"Did I spook ya or something?" Blue asked with a smirk.

"In your wet dreams, Yellow told me you were coming a few seconds ago."

"Of coarse he did..." Blue put a hand on his face and shook his head. "What an asshole," he said rolling his eyes.

Each member of the team wore a mask, yet Jake could still see his friends frustration as if he wasn't wearing one at all. However, before he could ask what the problem was, a voice came in on their communications channel.

"This is Red, the target is in sight, I repeat the target is in sight!"

Both men forgot about their conversation and quickly rushed back over to the corner of the roof top to get a good look. They immediately noticed their target reaching the top of the subway steps and walking out into Brooklyn's streets.

"Blue is going to go down their and freeze his legs so he can't move, the rest of you stay in position in case he tries to use his power. Blue? You got this?"

Dylan just looked towards his teams leader and smiled, "No shit!"

He then took a few steps back to get a running start and jumped off of the rooftop, down towards the street below.

SNAP!

Jake watched his teammates head swing to the right as his skull looked as if a cork just popped from within. His eyes grew wide in disbelief and he didn't have the slightest clue as to what just happened but Blues lifeless body plummeted straight down onto the sidewalk below.

"Purple?! What the fuck was that? What the fuck just happened to Blue?"

Jake recognized Reds voice.

"There's a sniper somewhere watching us, stay alert!"

He scanned the rooftops all around him and then he saw him. On a water tower about a hundred meters to the east, Jake could see the man holding a sniper rifle which he was now pointing straight at his direction.

SNAP!

The shooter let off another shot but before it could hit Jake, he brought up a wide neon purple force field to provide him cover.

"Everyone, the shooter is located on the water tower to my east. He's got me pinned so I'm going to need one of you to take care of him for me."

"Yellow here, I got him."

Jake then saw a small yellow ball of light raise into the sky and shoot towards the water tower. Than a humongous lightning bolt came down from the heavens directly striking the shooter.

"Yellow again, target down. I guess I got a little carried away... he's dead."

"Roger that yellow, that's not important right now. Let's get down to Blue and help him."

With that Jake closed his eyes to teleport to the street down below where his friend laid motionless, a massive hole gaping through his head.

The entire team, Red, Yellow, Green, Brown, Black, White, and Purple, all stood in a circle around there dead friend. In that moment, none of them could say a word and they all just stood their, looking down at their teammates corpse in shock. Everyone of them wondering the same three things. 1: why in the world would anyone do such a thing...? 2: Who the fuck were they? And 3: Where the fuck were they hiding so they could make them pay?

(Chapter 4)

Carter sat in his study, analyzing the photos he had received earlier that morning from the council. Half a dozen heroes brutally murdered; some of them were people he had known personally. Like Cowgirl and her partner Texan, they were tough customers and it wouldn't have been easy to take them both out. Yet... now Carter was staring at their corpses.

Who would want to kill supers? He thought to himself. The real question is who would actually be dumb enough to start doing it..?

"Carter?"

Max called out to him as he entered the study.

"There's been another murder, one of the members of that young group of heroes from Brooklyn, what are those kids called? Oh yes, the Misfits."

"The Misfits huh? Those kids ain't exactly what I'd call heroes, there more like an entire team of Deadpools. They kill when they want to kill, unlike guys like Fantastic."

"Yes, and more like someone else I know who's now retired." Max answered back smiling at his friend.

"I supposed I'm not one to talk." Carter said smiling back. "If the person or group of people behind these murders is targeting the Misfits now, they're not going to stop with just one kill, we need to meet with the team tomorrow first thing in the morning. Not only to prevent anymore of their deaths but so that we can actually catch whoever is behind this."

"Well, it appears that the shooter behind their teammates death was caught and killed on the scene."

"So were the gunmen in 3 of the cases we received this morning. The people carrying out the hits aren't the masterminds. They're just hired assassins working for someone behind the scenes."

"You think that this mastermind is hiring amateurs to carry out the executions?"

"Not entirely no, there's someone really good working for him as well."

"What makes you say that?"

"In two of the cases, Cowgirl's and Texan's, and Pioneer's, the assassin wasn't caught. There weren't even any witnesses and the heroes were murdered in broad daylight on busy New York streets. That isn't the work of some amateur... this is a lifelong pro who is out for the blood of supers."

"Someone is doing well coming out of retirement... can you get a profile on this so called professional?"

"Not completely, not yet but I can say this, whoever this assassin is, he's ruthless, tenacious and very good at his job. On top of that, he will probably be sent to finish off the Misfits given the death of the first assassin. We catch him, we find out who is behind these murders."

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In a dark room somewhere across the city, a man sits drinking a glass of wine staring out the window of his New York apartment. He has no shirt on and tattoos cover nearly every inch of his body. Suddenly, his cell phone begins to ring and the contact reads unknown caller. Yet the man answers it anyways.

"I told you never to contact me unless it's in person."

"Yes... you did say that didn't you, my apologies, nonetheless, it appears that rookie I sent to deal with the Misfits was killed."

"So? That sounds a lot like your problem."

"Indeed... Well now I need you to finish that job, I despise that group of young false heroes and your going to dispose of them for me. You shall be compensated handsomely as always."

"Alright.., I'll take care of it tomorrow. Although, you do realize that's 8 heads, which means 8 million, right?"

"Actually it will be only 7 heads, the rookie actually did succeed in taking out one of their members but he was taken out immediately after, which I should have guessed would take place. They may be young but the Misfits are very capable, this will not be an easy assignment."

"Please, you said the same thing about that southern girl and her partner; don't worry about me, just make sure the money is in my account when it's done."

"Of coarse."

The call then disconnected and the man put his phone away. He then just remained there, sitting in the dark and drinking his wine while staring out his apartment window.

Heroes... the day for that word seems to be coming to an end.