Baron Zemo's Lair. - <font face="arial,helvetica" color="blue">The Journal of Sir Mumphrey Wilton, Extract Eighteen: <I>In which we investigate the mysteries of a second-hand archvillain’s stronghold and annoy the wrong person</font></i>

Baron Zemo's Lair

The Journal of Sir Mumphrey Wilton, Extract Eighteen: In which we investigate the mysteries of a second-hand archvillain’s stronghold and annoy the wrong person
Tuesday, 19-Oct-1999 12:59:13
203.29.113.3 writes:

The Journal of Sir Mumphrey Wilton, Extract Eighteen:
In which we investigate the mysteries of a second-hand archvillain’s stronghold and annoy the wrong person

Peter von Doom was gone, beyond any resource of ours to find and question about his part in a strange UFO crash in Death Valley two decades ago. His assistant at the time, Mark Hopkins, evidently retrieved some item called the Sempiternus Singularum, which we are currently attempting to reassemble to see why the nasty chappie Baron Heinrich Zemo wishes to reassemble it. For our part in the investigation, Asil and I agreed to try and find out what von Doom was up to all those years ago. And that is why we were flying low over Equidorean rainforest in a most remarkable contraption a bit like one of those cages that one sits in on a big wheel. Chap who was carrying us (flying under his own steam, no less) was called DarkHwk, an armoured fellow a bit like a human-sized bonnet ornament.
DarkHwk was an associate of this superhero team the Lair Legion. Seems one can’t adventure these days without tripping over half a dozen of them. Apparently this DarkHwk wasn’t a member; when I asked he said he was too busy with personal matters to accept a place, and besides they didn’t trust him just because he accidentally killed Jarvis once. Decided not to pursue it. DarkHwk’s participation arranged by young Hatman, who had been so helpful already in locating the previous stronghold of this von Doom fellow.
According to data retrieved by my amanuensis Miss Asil Ashling, von Doom had spent years before first appearing as a so-called supervillain in preparing secret bases and suchlike. Sort of a hobby. The one we were heading for, which nobody had yet blown up, was apparently abandoned a few years back, so we weren’t expecting anything like the trouble we actually found there.
DarkHwk has a sort of built-in radar thingie in his helmet, which must be jolly useful. Given that and some Global Positioning System doohicky he uses we were able to locate the fortress in short order. The armoured chappie put us down a little way off from the “high-tech” (his description) stronghold so he could scout it all out unencumbered by innocent bystanders - viz. us. Must admit he looked very spectacular arcing up over the gleaming towers of the futuristic base, that big shiny medal on his chest all glinting in the high midday sun. Was less impressed when he appeared to lose control and crash-dive into one of the courtyards.
Asil and I started through the thick undergrowth to go to his assistance. In the meantime, DarkHwk appeared again, this time somehow falling upwards, bouncing off one tower and then crashing hard into another before plummeting earthwards again. Something clearly amiss. Wondered if metal suit possibly malfunctioning? Saw no more of DarkHwk and concluded that it was time for a rescue.
It took quite some time to get through the thick underbrush of the rainforest and reach the metallic walls of the fortress, even with me using my time-manipulating pocketwatch to speed us up. Not as fit as I used to be, can’t machete as fast. Asil very good at it, however. Rather than seek for a door I took the liberty of shifting a section of wall half a minute into the future – tricky to do on connected objects but I’ve had a lot of practise. We stepped through the gap while the wall was time-travelling.
Pretty clear that the fortress was not, in fact, abandoned. Lots of empty food cartons strewn around, along with some comic books and a few bits of half-built machinery. A video-tape machine was half-way through a film that neither Asil or I recognised, which featured a jolly spirited young woman with a flamethrower playing hide-and-seek with this rather gruesome alien cove. Asil in particular was impressed, and looked very thoughtful.
Quite large fortress. Asil suggested we split up and scout the area to save time. I was less keen on this, feeling duty of care to the young gel, but Asil pursed her lips just like her doody head Ms Waltz does so I thought it best to let her have her way. I headed for the cellars, thinking that DarkHwk might be trapped down there. Left Asil looking at a room full of photographs and notes of various superheroes. Recognised Exile but that’s about it.
Found the security cells pretty easily, but had to time-shift alarm mechanism to gain access. Found people in the cells, mainly teenagers. Only three of the twelve youngsters spoke English, and only one of them actually was English – well American, but they’ll realise their mistake and rejoin the Empire eventually. Two more understood French, so between that lot I was able to get an idea of what had happened to them. They had apparently been snatched from their homes by the baddie of the piece, who claimed that they all had special genetic potential. In fairness, from what I could gather their homes weren’t particularly happy ones, but all the same kidnapping children is a pretty reprehensible crime, don’t you think? Villain proposed to train them up as a sort of Mutant Taskforce which would in turn capture and train more gifted youngsters.
Gifted youngsters not too impressed with this concept. They had pointed out to their captor that they had no particular wish to die in the cause of mutantkind, whereupon he had shouted at them a lot and locked them in the cells.
Also rescued one adult, who seemed more terrified than the kids. He didn’t speak much English so I just kept trying to reassure him by speaking slowly and loudly. Had to drag him out of his cell in the end he was that frightened.
Took the children back upstairs and hid them away in a bit of the fortress that looked pretty much unused. Kept gibbering man with me (didn’t really trust him with the children) and made my way back to the agreed rendezvous point with Asil. My amanuensis hadn’t wasted her time either, having located DarkHwk apparently hovering spreadeagled in one of the inner courtyards. Sounded jolly rum to me.
Asil led the gibberer and I back to where DarkHwk was imprisoned. He most definitely seemed to be stuck up there, bound somehow by an invisible force. Used chronometer to determine what it was – magnetism, believe it or not, very powerful magnetic fields. Shifted the magnetic force forward a few seconds so that our armoured friend could drop out of its locus.
DarkHwk hit the floor with a crash. “Get out of here!” he warned as he spotted us. “Go hide. Let me deal with this!”
Enter the baddie. Also wearing armour, but this time red and purple rather than blue and black. Another bizarre-shaped helmet. Hovered over the courtyard, wearing a sort of framework of tubes etc. round his shoulders – I swear they hummed – and said, “So, DarkHwk, you didn’t come alone. But nobody will save you trespassers from the wrath of… Magnetic Techbird.” Useful footnote from Asil to the effect that Magnetic Techbird is a mutant terrorist with magnetic and sonic powers who fights for the rights of mutants. Seemed that he’d found the abandoned von Doom fortress (well, it was mostly made of metal) and decided it would make a fine base for training up young, impressionable teenagers to be his M-People, a personal taskforce of fighting mutant teens who would battle in a world that feared and mistrusted them.
“Not going to be as easy now I’ve degaussed my armour!” DarkHwk told the baddie, springing some wicked looking hooks from his gauntlets. He closed in to slash but was repelled by a translucent purple barrier which Asil assured me was actually sonic energy. Meanwhile, Techbird gestured and two rotting trucks flew from the ground and impacted on the hero from both sides. Must have hurt. DarkHwk replied with a sort of whitey-purple force-beam from that chest amulet of his, which smashed straight through Techbird’s sonic shield and pounded him through the wall of a tower. That must have hurt as well.
“No! No they mustn’t!” my whiny friend whimpered (judging by the body language and tone of voice- I’m pretty convinced that Nyet is No). Told him to pull himself together and be a man. Can’t stand hysterics. Slapped him across the face few times to pull him round.
“Do you know how much time it took to fix up this crappy base?” Magnetic Techbird accused DarkHwk, emerging from the ruins of a tower and magnetically hurling them at his enemy. “You’re under arrest and going down!” DarkHwk told the terrorist, deflecting it with that amulet beam and swooping down through a barrage of hypersonics.
Couldn’t have agreed more. Set chronometer to interact with magnetic and sonic waves. Y’see, waves have different characteristics depending on how long it takes between their peaks and their troughs. Sound waves become higher or lower in pitch, which of course makes them much harder to channel into solid-sound objects; bit like trying to shield oneself with rice pudding. Electromagnetic characteristics change as well, in this case manifesting harmlessly as rather pretty purple and violet (but mostly ultraviolet judging by Asil’s later tan) light.
Wasn’t able to keep it up for long of course, but in the few seconds I maintained the shift DarkHwk broke straight through Techbird’s guard and flattened him with a right hook. Textbook baddie clobbering.
Was about to congratulate the young chap and go and retrieve the sequestered kidnappees when I heard a tearing sound behind me. Hysterical gibbering chappie was growing larger, tearing himself out of his shirt. His skin became flinty and hard, and rather nasty spikes grew on his arms and legs and back. “I warned you…” he whimpered (now in English for some reason, probably dramatic purposes). Fellow developed slates and a chimney before our very eyes.
“Oh no,” breathed DarkHwk.
Now larger than a London double-decker bus, the formerly weedy chappie reared up over me and shouted, “Puny watch man thinks he can hit because he is braver and bigger. Puny watch man must die! Now, Yurt will smash!”

Mumph