Sinister Six: Economic Ruin

by Rich (Bombman) Kassidy

CHAPTER 2 - Road to Recovery

He knew what had to be done. The answer came to him when he watched those junk heaps do his job. They stole the job from him. He wondered how many other people in his position worldwide were in the exact same position as he now found himself in. The more thought of the big picture, the more convinced he became of his own newfound meaning in life. If these robots continued to replace human workers, millions would be left in worse predicaments as he was in. The very things he dreamed of as a kid while reading the comic books of the day now became mankind’s greatest obstacle. Suddenly, all those movies he had seen about robots taking over the planet seemed a bit too close to reality for his own tastes now.

He had his answer, but he had no means. Simply arguing with the higher ups in companies would never work- when had they ever listened to the little guy in the past? The government wouldn’t listen to some out of work bum either, as they were in collusion with the corporations. Willow thought of organizing a boycott, but human beings themselves proved to be unreliable until they find themselves in similar circumstances. He knew it might be too late for him, but he wanted to ensure the future of the generations that have yet to enter the work force.

Sean. His son. He would do it for his son. He would do anything for his boy. He had to. He sure as hell didn’t want his son to find himself in his shoes. If things continued the way they are, that may be his son’s only possible future. Charles wouldn’t let that happen. Not without a fight.

Fight. That’s what he had to do. If boycotts and political games wouldn’t work, he had no other means. Action would have to speak for him. However, he knew he couldn’t go about this in such a way that would appear to be some simple-minded terrorism like the way those Human Supremacy idiots did. Those HSL people didn’t care if a few people got hurt in the process of blowing up a robotics supply factory. Charles knew he’d eventually be labeled a vigilante by the main stream media, but he didn’t want to be labeled a terrorist like the others. His only regret in this course of action was that his own son might remember him as a criminal. Unfortunately, it would have to be that way.

Willow also knew he couldn’t go out and blow things up with having to defend himself at some point. In fact, he knew he’d more than likely have an encounter with the Sinister Six. These would have to be handled differently than the mindless tin cans that pushed brooms around. The media was finally starting to lighten up on them, almost going so far as to call them heroes. If he went about his plan in such a manner that included going after the S6 he'd be put in the same category with the likes of that maniac Dr Wily. Everything would have to be carefully balanced.

Willow knew the first thing he would need to gather was a proper set of “tools”. He decided to borrow some supplies from a supposed military weapons scientist who was rumored to be working on some sort of anti-robotics and electronics weaponry. Obviously, the very description of these toys seemed perfect for Charles new line of work.

Not wanted to draw any attention to himself, Willow hid his face behind an old ski mask and carefully observed the scientist’s workplace throughout the week, noting every possible entrance point and reviewing his own strategy. While the idea of grand theft felt dubious at best to him, it would have to be a necessary step in order to achieve the greater good: the rejuvenation of the middle class workforce.

Finally, the chosen night had come. The scientist would usually leave early on Friday nights, presumably to get a head start on his weekend. There was usually a half hour gap in between the scientist’s departure and the two guards’ arrival, so that gave him plenty of time to sneak in, grab the goods, and make an escape that hopefully won’t include the police. If everything went to plan, there’d be nothing to indicate his presence except the fact that some high-class weaponry had suddenly vanished.

Willow made his way to the lab in his old work jumpsuit, long black coat, and a black hat that can easily be rolled down to a ski mask. He made sure not to make eye contact with anybody who happened to be on the street leading to his destination, not that it mattered- most people in this area at this time were bums asking for money. Charles wondered just how many of them held college degrees or had six figure jobs that had to let them go for whatever reason. They were so much like him, and the only thing that separated him from them now was the fact that he was willing to take it one step further.

As he got closer to the lab, something caught his eye- someone running into the alleyway across the street from the lab. Stranger yet was the fact that he was wearing what appeared to be a lab coat, which made him wonder if the scientist had stayed late and lost his mind or something. Continuing forward, Willow peered down the alleyway where the lab-coated figure ran into, only to see nothing but garbage and rain water streaming into a storm drain. What kind of scientist gets to where he’s going by running around the slums and shantytowns? Whatever, it didn’t matter who it was really. It made no real bearing on his mission at this point, so he’d continue on as planned.

Or, he would have had he not noticed the gigantic hole that was torn into the side of building. For some reason, whatever made the hole was able to avoid any alarm wires or light switches- it wasn’t the work of an amateur by any means, and whoever did it wasn’t concerned about the police noticing in case any of them decided to drop by.

“Well,”, Willow thought to himself aloud, “may as well not look a gift horse in the mouth.”

Inside, Willow made his way as fast as possible to the lab where he suspected his new “equipment” to be. As he ran, he nearly slipped a few times on some sort of silvery substance, almost like mercury. The burglar before him must have left it, as no professional laboratory would just leave a dangerous liquid like mercury spilled on the floor. Who would want to steal a bunch of mercury in the first place?

Chuck finally reached the lab sector that he had set his sights on from the windows outside. Here, he found the perfect weapon to which to take up arms- high powered, reusable chaff grenades. These babies would disable anything electronic within ten feet of their detonation point. These would be perfect for frying the circuits of anything that got in his path of robotic protest.

…Including the Sinister Six.


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