Minuteman #2: Sundial

Tidetech Head Office, Toronto

" Gentlemen, Ladies, please take your seats. I know we are all busy people and I know a number of you have been waiting some time to see the results of our investigations." The slick looking young businessman at the front of the darkened room stands silhouetted in the glaring light of a projector. Within minutes the intimate auditorium is full and the ranks of similarly dressed executives fall silent.

" Excellent. Let's begin. As you are aware, Tidetech has been seeking to expand it's sphere of influence into the field of genetic engineering - if we cure 'problems' at source we can use our foothold in the insurance sector to it's maximum effect as leverage. What you will not know is that we have been privy to some very interesting information regarding this very issue and the American government."

[ Black and white scenes of a maternity ward with armed guards standing beside each bed. ]

" During the 1960s the United States carried out a number of top secret experiments on unborn children. Not a new concept for the western world at the time, but what makes the American experiment so interesting to Tidetech is that they were successful. Of the eight children that even approached term, there are reported to be three alive today."

[ Grainy pictures from security cameras showing two young children being gunned down. ]

" The first one - originally called Adam by our American neighbours - exhibits one of the most extreme cases of photsensitivity on the planet. Reports that have been leaked to us tell of an adult that has never seen sunlight and has lived in a ultra-violet twilight world for over thirty years."

[ A tall thin silhouette stalks around a room outlines in dull blue. ]

" The other two - again, and please I apologise if this is overtly predictable - called Cain and Abel, have never managed to develop beyond the mindset of young children. These two have been held with a number of so-called foster parents, which we can reveal as undercover agents for the US government possessing energy dampening psi-powers."

[ Two teenagers are rushed from a darkened car into a rather sinister looking remote house ]

" Ladies and Gentlemen, after some ... difficulty, we have acquired the whereabouts of these genetic masterpieces. Our retrieval teams will be moving in to acquire them by 03.00 hours. The Executive expects each of you to have your department primed for their arrival. Dissection will begin at 14.00 hours. Good day."

A sodden field, outside Antwerp, 1944

The rain pours from the sky, turning the already churned field into a sea of slippery, cloying mud. The driving wind lashes the rain across my face. How long has he been running? When will these damned Nazis get off my tail? It was so different back in Ohio. I was a big shot there - the scourge of the dark streets. Everyone knew Danny Jacobs - aka Yankee Doodle - was 'the man'. Feared by criminals, loved by women and children. They were 'the patriotic partners'. It was a great time.

When Jack Weston had contacted him, he wasn't interested. Why the Hell would he want to go over to Europe and fight there when there was so much to be done at home. Thing was, Weston could be very persuasive - he talked about the need for the stars and stripes to hit right home at the Germans. he talked about the respect and fame US mystery men would command if they lead the line in Europe. He talked about the need for the US heroes to be there before the Brits or the Canucks.

Yankee Doodle was his man and he gladly signed up. It was the least they could do!

He would spit in Jack Weston's face if he could see him now. Lying bastard! A bullet flies past his ear and buries itself deep into the mud. The sharp shouts of the Germans are getting closer. He catches his foot under a mud-swathed root and falls face-first into the mire. A bullet smashes into his hand. He screams. Another bullet shatters his thigh bone. He wretches.

The soldiers stop, laugh and then open fire. The clouds part for a second and the moon shines down as the bullets riddle his red, white and blue covered chest.

Amsterdam

" OK folks, are we having fun yet?" Bullets ricochet around the bar where Jeff Weston is pinned. Shards of glass are flying through the air and the screams of the dying clientele add to the chaos. At the doors of the bar, three men stand with automatic rifles spraying anything that moves. From his hastily arranged position behind the jukebox, Jeff takes a few seconds to ponder how he gets into these situations.

When he came into the bar he expected to meet a hooker that worked in the brothel where his brother was killed. It hadn't been that hard to track her down, but she had been a nightmare to persuade to come to the bar - she wanted 'compensation'. Still, it would be a laugh when that little expense showed up on the old budget. Of course, when she arrived he just knew that there was something wrong. She was sweating and looked totally strung out. Almost as soon as she sat down, the goons arrived and started mincing the early evening drinkers.

Suddenly the guns stop and all that he can hear are the groans of the dying and wounded ... and then the signature thud of a grenade landing and rolling across the floor. Jeff rolls his eyes and runs from his sanctuary towards the entrance to the bar's kitchen. Leaping, he rolls his shoulder into the swinging doors and then keeps rolling across the floor of the kitchen, coming to his feet and diving behind a steel cabinet.

The devastated bar is rocked by the exploding grenade, flame and smoke rushing through the shattered swing doors. That was no normal grenade! Jeff leaps to his feet and rushes back through the flames. Sprinting through the destruction and the charred bodies of the dead he cocks his gun and jumps into the street. Swinging his arm left and right he cannot see anyone even vaguely like the gunmen.

Damn!

DEO

" Nice curtains."

Bones tilts his head and gesticulates towards the chair on the other side of his desk as Cameron Chase runs a finger up and down the cloth. " Agent Chase, when I need your advice on soft furnishings, I'll be sure to come and ask you. Until that day will you please try to keep your mind on this meeting."

The brown haired agent settles into her chair again. " OK, can I summate here? The rumours on the shop floor are true.."

" I never said that.."

" Ok, they may be true, and the DEO have had one of their newest and brightest Jack Weston poached back to these people that may or may not exist. You have taken umbrage at this and their apparent lack of courtesy, and now you want me to find out the identity of someone called Grandfather who may, or may not exists as the leader of a group that... well, you get my drift. What's really happening Bones?"

" Why would I tell you any different? If I am one thing, Agent Chase, I am transparent..."

Cameron barely suppresses a snigger. " OK, but this is about as weak a trail as we could have - do you have anything on this non-person?"

" Yes we do. Grandfather and his organisation that doesn't exist has a time motif - but we have eliminated many of the obvious possibilities - and we guess he may have had some contact with Jack Weston in the 40s - it would explain the ...organisations motif."

" So we break open the WW2 Longevity Files then. Don't worry boss. I'm on the case."

" Initial hunches?" Bones taps a finger on the table.

" Hmmm.... give me a while, OK?"

Amsterdam

" OK Maxwell, here's the situation. I've been in Amsterdam for under twelve hours and I've been given the sort of welcome that's normally reserved for the serious bad guys. I need back-up, I really do."

The voice of Maxwell comes through the comm-link with almost silky nonchalance, but Jeff knows he is laughing inside. " Many of our agents coming back into the field have some nerves, Minuteman-13. Maybe when you return you could benefit from some additional refresher training."

" You can kiss my ... look Maxwell, what have you got on that grenade?"

" Louis Van Helden, otherwise known as Senior Forensic Scientist Van Helden is your 29th second. He works with the police in Amsterdam. He got us the low-down on the bar attack. You were right, that was not a normal grenade. It had distinct chemical traces linking it to alien technology."

" What alien?"

" Durlan. The design is unknown but there is Durlan DNA all over the debris. Minute traces, but it's still there."

" So we have a case of a Durlan operative, acting within Amsterdam for sources unknown - maybe some Benelux confederation - who has enough contacts on the street and within our operation to know who I am contacting and where and then to outfit some thugs with rifles and grenades personally to wipe me out?"

" That would be a accurate summary of your mission, Minuteman-13."

"Bullshit."

" Pardon me?"

" A whole steaming pile of ..."

" What the hell do you mean man?" Suddenly Maxwell's poise cracks. Weston smiles.

" Durlans are shapeshifters, right? They can take any form they want, including gaseous and gelatinous? Why on Earth then would they create grenades as weapons? What feasible use would that be to a Durlan?"

" It could have come from another source and been passed onto the Durlan?"

" Nope. Cross-reference it with the DEO files on alien weaponry."

" We already have..."

" And you couldn't find it? That means that it's not alien."

" You can't be sure about that. the DEO have nowhere near the resources to be able.."

" Maxwell, will you shut up? The DEO has two Okarrans secreted in a safehouse in Australia that have been systematically feeding us all the information we need about exotic weaponry. We keep them in hefty women and they keep us in info. 99.9% psych-eval positive as well. If the Okarrans don't know about it, it's from Earth."

" But the witnesses have testified to a shapeshifter and we also have the case with Minuteman-29, which was a definite Durlan."

" How definite?"

" The same DNA at that murder as at the murder of your brother."

" You know what Maxwell? You know why the hell I prefered working with the DEO than you bunch of super-secretive assholes? They think outside the box. Pop Quiz - name me a metahuman that can change shape?"

" Changeling?"

" Well done. That took you all of what? One second? So lets review. We have a common or garden metahuman shapeshifter with access to Durlan DNA, state-of-the-art armaments and maybe an inside line of Minuteman operations, who had something against my brother."

" It's a possibility..."

" And it's the scenario I'm running with. Have I got a standard Second configuration?"

" Yes you have - Sixty seconds split into ten teams of six. They cover six geographic areas - Scandanavia, UK and Ireland, Iberia, Mediterranean, Eastern Europe and EU Central. The teams cover Forensics, Communications, Transport, Assault, Training, Media, Judicary, Law Enforcement, Metahuman Liaison and Undercover."

" Undercover?"

" Your cover for any covert infiltrations. A wife or partner to work with you as a decoy."

" Partner?"

" This is the 21st Century Minuteman-13. Sometimes, in some areas, it is more beneficial to have a companion of the same sex."

" We'll see about that. Anyway - I want them put on full alert. Someone , somewhere, is going to pay for this..."

Hometown USA, 1944

The military car pulls up slowly in the quiet streets of Dayton, Ohio. Two kids ride past on rickety old pushbikes and an old man takes great pains to prune his rose bush 'just right'. Jack Weston swings his legs out from the car and looks back to the soldier driving.

" Cut the engine, I'm not sure how long I'm going to be in there." He pushes the door open and swings his legs down gingerly onto the road. He rarely has to wear his dress uniform and he runs a finger under the stiff collar. The change in the weather has come early this year and the spring sun tingles across his brow. Jack looks up and down the street and then rests his eyes on his destination. Number twenty.

In the garden, a young woman tends to a small bush. She is wearing a blue gingham dress with her brown hair held back with a clip. The image of war-time America. In the garden behind her a small child staggers through the pristine grass, practicing his first few steps. Jack strides up to the gate, sweeps his peaked hat under his arm and gently coughs. "Mrs Jacobs?"

" Yes..oh, it's you Jack. Nice to see you aga..." Suddenly the reason for the visit hits home and she drops the dainty scissors from her hand.

" Jessica, I am truly sorry. I'm afraid.."

" You bastard! You cold hearted bastard! You came here and filled his head full of stars and stripes and ticker-tape parades! He didn't want to go. He didn't want them to be your golden boys!" Tears streaming down her face she grabs the arm of her son and holds him tight to her chest. " What will I tell him...."

" Mrs Jacobs, I have to inform you that Daniel was killed in action behind enemy lines. We have been unable to recover his body. " A lump forms in Jack's throat." He was a very brave man, but I must remind you of the agreement you both signed. The cover story remains in place and no word of his involvement can be mentioned to anyone. It's a matter of national security ma'am."

" I hope you can live with yourself Jack Weston! I hope you can live with telling Old Ma Jenkins about little Sammy too!"

" Pardon?"

" Sammy Jenkins? The child you sent to war? Yankee Doodle and Kid Dandy? Daniel's sidekick?"

Jack feels his stomach lurch and then turns, adamant not to vomit.

Amsterdam

In the DEO I used to spend days in window-less rooms reading through file after file, webpage after webpage, looking for the right piece of information. Research is the most under-rated of skills. Sure, you are a big man if you can shoot the balls off a gnat. You walk the walk if you know fifteen different nerve grips to neuter someone. Tell someone you can comprehend a one hundred page manuscript in less than ten minutes and they just think you're a geek.

However, sometimes - just sometimes - it comes in really useful. The first thing I had to find out was the whereabouts of every scrap of Durlan DNA on the planet. As you will imagine, not the easiest thing to do, more because of red tape than the facts. As it turns out, almost all of the Durlan DNA is under contract to one company based in Canada. Huge conglomerate concentrating on chemical and biological research - Tidetech.

The killer though is when I got the transcripts through of Bobby's last mission - the entire reason he was in Amsterdam. As it transpires, he was on two missions. The tracking of the 'Durlan' that had offed Minuteman-29 was additional to his primary target. His actual target at the time was a suspected attempt at corporate infiltration into a subsidiary of STAR Labs. The guy he was after was a professional called Helmut Von Strueber, a German national with more form than he cared to mention. Assassin, terrorist, kidnapper and all-round nasty piece of work. Digging a little deeper, Strueber was rumoured to have been in Brussels, arranging his next piece of work, but Bobby couldn't track him down, despite his reputation has the best hunter the Minutemen had on their books. Bobby had tracked him to South Africa, and he was flying out there on the evening that he was assassinated. The contact that had surrendered Von Strueber's position was a French national working for the Canadian consulate in Brussels ... who just so happened to have formerly worked for Tidetech.

Now the question is, what the Hell could Von Strueber have been doing that was so important that Tidetech would have been willing to sanction a metahuman black ops action against him ( and by default, the US Government) knowing full well that it would bring the wrath of God down on their head? And how was this connected to the murder of Minuteman-29? She was working in Kiev checking out some rumours about a metahuman experiment that was being planned there.

" Minuteman-13 to Second Team : EU Central. I want a first class transfer to Jo'burg ASAP. Inform Minuteman-57 of my arrival and clear me with Grandfather. Tell Maxwell that I've got a lead. Inform Grandfather that I need everything he has on Tidetech and Helmut Von Strueber transmitted to my position. I also need the full files on Minuteman-29's final mission." Jeff Weston leans back in his chair and worries.

Ukraine

" Where is he Yuri?"

" Resting. The tests of his powers have drained him. We really should tell him what is happening.."

" Yuri! What the Hell are you talking about! If we tell him, we jeopardise everything we've achieved so far. We may have programmed his knowledge but his morals?"

" Alexi, I know, I know, but he is our responsibility! We can't just let him do this, can we?"

" Of course we can. You know the plan -we have been over it time and time again. We have our weapon, that isn't a weapon. And now we have many more of them."

The screen behind Alexi lifts to reveal a room with dozens of man-sized tubes bubbling with green liquid. In their centres float the forming bodies of men.

" We let them go to the United States and when their super-powered protectors are neutralised by our Parsifals, they will feel the wrath of the Soviet Union, Yuri - and our forefathers will be avenged!"

Capetown, South Africa

" Yes, Director, the retrieval went very well. We have all of the American metahumans in our custody and in mid-transfer to your facilities in Canada. The biotech worked perfectly - we were able to co-ordinate everything from here in South Africa without a single traceable piece of information for the American's to clutch onto." Von Strueber runs a finger across his forehead and brushes a strand of blond hair from his eyes. The shadowy face on the monitor draws deeply on a cigar and exhales a billowing cloud of smoke.

" And the Retrieval Team?"

" Oh, how thoughtless of me? Yes, they should all have delivered their packages by now." Von Strueber presses a blue button on a pendant hanging around his neck. " There. The mayfly-switch in the biotech has been activated. The teams have all dropped dead."

" A shame, but I really don't want to have to deal with any annoying telepathic interventions at this stage. Were you able to get the information from STAR Labs?"

" I'm afraid not. After the intervention by that American they tripled their security."

" Have you been compromised? Someone in this organisation has been! The murder of Benson has complicated this entire operation beyond belief. I did not appreciate having the activate a meta early to deal with the situations in Kiev and Amsterdam. The cost of the Durlan DNA is exhorbitant, true exhorbitant."

" I have considered the possibility that I may have been compromised. I suspected my South African wife."

" And she is dead?"

" Yes."

" Good. Anymore problems and I'll be forced to invoke the penalty clause in your contract. Now, what about those two bungling soviets?"

" Yes. The funding for their project has spiralled slightly but they seem to have come up trumps. Our reading of their computer records suggests that they are moving to complete Project Parsifal within the next week or so."

" Excellent. When our little trojan horses have been deposited in the United States and their over-population of metahuman talent is neutralised, our newly spliced, Parsifal-immune metas will save the day and the world will have a new metahuman front to deal with - one run by, and amswerable to, Tidetech. Good work, my Black Poet - your grandfather would have been proud."

" Yes Director, I'm sure he would..."

US Army Command, Dorset, UK. - October 1944

" With all due respect sir, why wasn't I informed?" The veins on Weston's neck stand out as he strains to control his fury.

" Can I remind you Private Weston, that whilst the army is very happy to use your contacts and your services in the war effort, the only person I have to answer to for my actions is my superior officer!"

" And your conscience sir..."

" What did you say solider?"

" And you conscience, sir! Regardless of your position you sent a child of twelve into a combat situation. A combat situation that you knew damn well was a suicide mission. This is the United States Army, Colonel, and the last time I looked we did not send children to die for our country!"

" You are dismissed Private Weston."

" Like Hell I am! Sir. We have a man - a boy - out there and he may be alive. The German propaganda machine has been trying to use the death of Yankee Doodle but they haven't mentioned the kid. He could be out there."

" And who do you suggest should go and get him soldier?"

" I will sir. The next man I send over that channel in costume will be Jack Weston - Minuteman!"

Next Issue: Minuteman#3 - The One Man Army is sent to rescue Kid Dandy, Jeff goes to South Africa to confront the Black Poet, Tidetech begin their experiments, the Russians arrive in the US and the DEO continue their investigations into who Grandfather really is? While they're on, they could look into who the Director is as well!

Sixty Second Sound Off!

Before I plumb the depths of comics trivia to unearth this issues cornucopia of obscurity, a big thanks to the readers who have been giving Minuteman the 'big up' on our lists. It's brilliant to get such quick feedback and it always spurs me onto doing more writing when I know someone is enjoying it!

Yankee Doodle and Kid Dandy are new creations, so don't go hunting for them in your back issues! Black Poet was a villain that faced the original Minuteman.

Neil