Sorcerer in the Marvel Universe

Nadia had a handgun, but it didn’t do her much good.

Blinded by the SUVs’ high beams, she never saw the mercenary circle around behind her. A moment later, she was knocked flat onto the pavement.

When Carrigan sauntered out from behind the glare of the headlights, Nadia still clung to a desperate sliver of hope.

Maybe her ex had simply come to harass her.

Maybe, somehow, this could still be talked out.

"Carrigan, someone’s following me and Danny. Please, just let us go."

Carrigan’s sleazy grin killed that hope instantly.

"That’d be me."

While Carrigan caught up with his old flame, his men were busy.

A balding Russian mercenary stepped forward and smashed the butt of his rifle against Nadia’s car door. Two strikes were enough to break the lock. He yanked the door open and dragged Danny out.

Thirteen was a dangerous age.

Old enough to think you were invincible, young enough to have absolutely no appreciation for the concept of consequences.

Danny fought like a cornered animal.

One of his wild kicks landed squarely between the Russian’s legs.

The mercenary froze.

For one long, terrible second, he experienced a profound understanding of the unfairness of life.

Then his face twisted with rage.

He grabbed Danny, slammed him hard onto the ground, and snapped restraints around his wrists. Apparently that wasn’t enough. He hauled the boy back to his feet and smashed him against the side of the vehicle before finally letting him drop.

The sight of her son being hurt gave Nadia a strength she hadn’t known she possessed.

She tore herself free and lunged for the weapon of the mercenary behind her.

Unfortunately, Nadia was still an ordinary woman.

Adrenaline could push a person past their normal limits, but it couldn’t magically turn her into a superhuman.

The much larger mercenary caught her and knocked her back down almost immediately.

Carrigan watched the struggle.

Leaving a woman this stubborn alive was probably going to become a problem.

And there was another matter.

Nadia had apparently gone behind his back and had a child with another man.

Carrigan was broad-minded enough to work for the man who had taken his place if the money was good, but that didn’t mean he had to enjoy it.

He drew a revolver.

"Enough."

He raised the weapon toward Nadia.

Then an unfamiliar sound drifted down from the darkness above.

Carrigan’s expression changed.

He might have been a disgrace as a mercenary, but he had plenty of combat experience. He recognized the sound immediately.

A parachute.

He wasn’t about to believe that some midnight skydiving enthusiast had randomly chosen this particular patch of road for a landing.

Carrigan lowered his revolver and turned his attention toward the sky.

"Watch the air."

His men raised their weapons.

Unfortunately, they had made one small tactical mistake.

Every one of their vehicles was blasting its high beams into the darkness.

From inside that wall of light, the night sky beyond it was almost impossible to see.

The sound grew louder.

Carrigan listened carefully.

One parachute.

Only one.

That eased his nerves.

There were seven or eight men with assault rifles on his side.

What exactly could one person do?

Nearby, the balding Russian quietly pulled the charging handle on his AK-47.

The moment their uninvited guest landed, he intended to turn them into a human sieve.

Then his eyes widened.

Something moved behind him.

A sudden rush of air.

Instinct took over.

He spun.

Thud.

A woman dropped from the darkness and landed in a crouch directly in front of him.

A hunting knife glimmered faintly green in her right hand.

Years of combat experience told the Russian to raise his rifle.

His body refused to obey.

A strange numbness spread through him.

Darkness crept across his vision.

He remained standing, perfectly still, while the parachute drifted down around him.

Only then did the blood come.

A sudden spray of crimson splashed across the white canopy.

Under the glare of the headlights, the mercenaries could just make out what had happened.

The Russian’s head and right shoulder slid away from the rest of his body.

One clean diagonal cut.

The sort of entrance that made a very strong argument for taking the stairs.

"Now that’s how you make an entrance."

Evenson rested his chin on one hand, watching the scene through the monitor with an amused smile.

Beside him, Clea looked distinctly less impressed.

"Are you sure she can handle that many people?"

Her eyes remained fixed on the display.

"She’s only completed the first stage of the enhancement."

At the moment, only Evenson and Clea remained in the aircraft. Rumlow and the rest of the team were still downstairs repairing the hole Melinda had blown through the hull.

"She should be fine."

Evenson wasn’t particularly worried.

"Even before the enhancement, Melinda was already a damn good fighter."

The woman below was, of course, Melinda.

The situation hadn’t given her the luxury of landing somewhere farther away and sneaking toward the target.

But landing directly in the middle of the enemy’s position would make her an obvious target.

Worse, these men knew what they were doing. They had already heard her parachute and were waiting for her.

Under normal circumstances, that would have been a serious problem.

Now?

Melinda had undergone enough enhancement to give her roughly Captain America’s physical capabilities.

So she decided to get creative.

At thirty meters above the ground, she cut herself loose from the parachute.

Then she dropped.

It worked beautifully.

She used the force of her descent to turn her landing into a devastating downward slash, cutting the Russian cleanly apart before anyone could react.

For several seconds, Carrigan’s men simply stared.

The first to recover was a slightly overweight soldier.

He’d been closest to Melinda, which meant hesitation would probably have gotten him killed.

He raised his AK and pulled the trigger.

Melinda moved first.

Still kneeling, she didn’t even bother standing.

She flicked her hunting knife against a loose stone on the ground.

Crack!

The blade sent the stone flying.

As it passed through the air, green flames suddenly erupted around it.

The stone struck the unfortunate soldier.

The green fire spread across him in an instant.

He had barely enough time to scream before his body collapsed into ash.

Evenson’s grin widened as he watched from the aircraft.

"I told you. There was nothing wrong with my work."

He looked downright smug.

"Look at her. She’s tearing through those guys."

He leaned back.

"With an advantage like that, how could she possibly lose?"

"Kill her!"

Carrigan’s confidence evaporated.

Two of his men had been eliminated in seconds.

"Open fire!"

The mercenaries raised their weapons and unleashed a barrage at Melinda.

This time, Melinda didn’t try to stand her ground.

She calmly performed two backflips and disappeared behind one of the vehicles, flattening herself against the ground.

Clea slowly turned her head toward Evenson.

"That’s quite a curse you’ve put on her."

Evenson’s smug expression collapsed.

"Okay, in my defense, how was I supposed to know she’d jump out of a plane with nothing but a knife?"

He looked thoroughly embarrassed.

She had guns available.

She had access to SHIELD equipment.

And somehow, after receiving superhuman abilities for only a few days, she’d apparently decided firearms were beneath her.

That was an attitude that needed correcting immediately.

Before Evenson could say anything else, the monitor in front of him beeped twice.

A new display automatically opened.

A deep crimson point appeared on the screen.

It represented an extremely hot energy signature.

And it was moving rapidly toward the battlefield.

Evenson’s expression changed.

"Ghost Rider."

His brow furrowed.

He watched the point streak across the display.

"Judging by that speed..."

A faint smile touched his lips.

"Did he find himself a new ride?"

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