The Incredible Neal Pollack #137:
by Robert Karol, BFA (robbykarol@hotmail.com)
It was a typical party at Stark's mansion. Every month, Tony Stark threw a big shindig, and you could usually count on superheroes, movie starlets, writers, rock stars, heads of state and captains of industry attending. And you could usually count on me, Nicholas Fury, commander of SHIELD, to be running security. And you could usually count on Happy Hogan, Stark's personal assistant, to harp on every problem.
"I can't believe the Roxxon agents got as far as the front door and that your agents couldn't stop them." Happy shouted. Julia Roberts turned around and fixed a withering glare on him. Happy shut up.
"First of all, they were ex-Roxxon employees trained by the Taskmaster, supposedly hired by Hydra and Justin Hammer. We're still not sure if it was just a front put on to mask a Zodiac assassination attempt. Secondly, at the very moment that Iron Man showed up, the front door was electrified and three snipers were prepared to take out the assassins." I calmly explained to Hogan. I was about to continue when suddenly Hogan's focus shifted to across the room.
"Who is that?" Hogan whispered. He pointed to a man with hair as dark as his heart and fine, chiseled features. Even I was awed by his Adonis-like beauty and his devil-may-care smile. From across the room, his presence was palpable. Julia Roberts and Penelope Cruz appeared as if they were prepared for a catfight to get him.
"That's Neal Pollack." I replied warily. "He's best known as a world famous writer and journalist who's won three Pulitzers, two Nobel prizes and a Grammy."
"A Grammy? How?" Happy stared quizzically.
"For lifetime contribution to popular music." Happy kept staring at me. "The article about Kurt Cobain which put that Rolling Stone issue through forty printings." I stopped and slapped my forehead. "But that doesn't matter, Happy. Okay. That's just a cover. He's also a spy, and one of the best there is. He's the most dangerous type of spy, the one that only follows his own beliefs and loyalties."
"Really, Nick," said Happy, bemused, "I'd never expect you to say such a thing about Neal. The guy just returned from helping starving orphans in Somalia, and you make him out to be a supervillain." The chatter of the party flowed around us, and those passing too close eyed us warily. Both Happy and I were out of place among these beautiful people. I hesitated. Could I really tell Happy the truth about Neal Pollack? Most of the information was classified. I looked carefully around.
"Happy, the guy is not evil, but he places his own morals above the law and above his own country. I'm going to tell you about something ninety-nine percent of the government doesn't know. Five years ago, a rogue Pentagon agency revived the Super Soldier program that gave us Captain America, creating military supermen they planned to use for their own ends. They tested them in Central America, using the guinea pigs to prop up a right-wing dictator who was fighting Hydra-backed insurgents. Things went bad when it turned out the Super Soldier serum made the troops into borderline psychopaths. When SHIELD found out, I led a team to take out the rogue troops. Halfway there, it turned into a rescue mission when I learned both Hydra and the Super Soldiers had been decimated by an unidentified new player in the game. When we got there, all we found was the burning debris of some horrible battle and a path into the jungle that we were unable to follow.
Three days later, three men turned up at a SHIELD safe house, one man supporting the other two, who were injured. One of the injured was the leader of the Super Soldier project, the other was a Hydra agent and the one carrying them was Neal Pollack. Neal Pollack dumped them inside and left before the SHIELD agents could even respond. A week later, he published an editorial in the New York Times calling for the US to back the new democratic government of that Central American nation. Happy, this man was the 'new player'. He took down a hundred Hydra agents and thirty men almost as strong as Captain America, then carried two injured men seventy five miles through a dangerous jungle in three days. Worst of all, no one knows what side he's working for."
Happy's expression had changed from bemused to shocked. The color drained from his face.
"He's...he's here." Happy stuttered. I nodded. "We need to get him out of here. Tony..." He trailed off.
"No way. We don't know why he's here or what he's up to. We need to figure that out first before we move. No sense in needlessly antagonizing him. Besides, if he tries anything funny, the snipers are still positioned and Iron Man is nearby." Happy shut up. We started talking about the Yankees' chances in the World Series. Nothing happened for about an hour. Then all hell broke lose.
On the security link, I got a code red warning. I took my magnum out of the shoulder holster and suddenly heard shots on the roof. Hogan ran for Stark. The huge glass skylight above the Mansion's lobby shattered, and two SHIELD agents fell through, followed by a huge, floating armored figure. I squeezed off two shots before the figure immobilized me with a blast from his glove. Then I recognized the man in the mask. As I did, I heard the screams of the frightened guests.
"Doctor Doom, you won't succeed." I shouted.
"Yes, I will, my good Commander Fury." He chuckled. His cape fluttered as he landed. He cut off the rocket jets in his boots. He shot the same ray at Stark that had paralyzed me. "Mr. Stark here will learn not to back the Latverian Freedom Alliance. Shame, Tony, trying to depose me as leader of the land I am destined to rule. Of course, you will learn too late, but perhaps your heirs will get the message."
Suddenly, a deep, authoritative voice boomed from the balcony, "Let them go, Doom." Doom turned.
With great surprise in his voice, he said, "Neal Pollack." He shook himself from his reverie and shouted. "My quarrel is not with you, Neal."
"Sorry, Victor, but when you mess with my host, you mess with me." I didn't know what to do. The security check had shown that Pollack wasn't armed, and nothing short of a nuclear bomb would stop Doctor Doom. Still, Pollack reached into his perfectly tailored suit and pulled out.... a cell phone?
"Neal, this is foolhardy. I would not expect such idiocy from a genius like you. What do you plan to do, make a crank call?" Doom burst into maniacal laughter.
"Hardly, Victor." His tone was as cold and expressionless as his face. "In this phone is the code for your personal bank accounts in both Switzerland and Bermuda. A push of the pound sign, and all your funds will be donated to the World Health Organization. The cell phone's transmissions cannot be disrupted by anything short of a tactical nuclear weapon."
"You are bluffing, Pollack."
"I'm afraid not."
For a moment, an unspoken challenge hung in the air. Two titans faced off, and the world hung in the balance. Finally, Doom sighed, and flicked a switch on his gauntlet. Feeling slowly returned to my body. I could see Stark experiencing the same relief. I prepared to move my agents into place to dispatch Doom. But...
"Fury, call down your men." Pollack shouted.
"You intend to let that maniac go free?" I replied, dumbfounded.
" The festivities have been disrupted enough. I'm sure Doom won't cross anyone else tonight. Right, Victor?"
"My feud was only with Stark." Doom proclaimed haughtily.
"Come on, Victor. They serve a mean martini at the bar." Pollack led Doom over for a drink, the crowd parting like the Red Sea in front of them.
