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  • Table of Contents Avengers #51 Avengers #52 Avengers #53 Avengers #54 Avengers #55 Avengers #56 Avengers #57 Avengers Annual 2009

    2 20 40 67 98

    112 128 149

  • Avengers #51 October 2007

    Captain America




    Claxons rang in the oceanographic research station run by Walter and Diane Newell. It was Diane that ran to the communications console, suddenly fearful for her husband. That alert would most certainly mean that he’d been attacked in some way, and for the man that also went by the name of Stingray, it was a terrifying thing indeed.

    “Walter!” Diane Arliss-Newell called into the microphone. “What has happened? Walter, are you all right? Please, Walter, come in!”

    But there was no response. On land, far away from where her husband was, Diane could only guess at the circumstances. She had no way of knowing the true reason that Stingray didn’t respond, or of how close it was to her worst imaginations.

    On the ocean’s bottom, not far east of the Long Island Sound, a torn communications relay gently floated along the sandy rock. Nearby, Stingray was struggling against numerous attackers, none or whom armored as he was.

    In some cases this was an advantage. In his Stingray armor, Walter Newell was far stronger and resilient than most humans, and could swim at speeds approaching two hundred knots. Additionally, the armor granted Stingray a powerful sonar sense, granting him a clear picture of the surroundings, and could generate dangerous electrical “sting” blasts.

    Sadly, many of the armor’s greatest advantages were negated by the fact that Stingray’s attackers had great strength, speed and reliance naturally, without the need for armor. They could also breathe unaided beneath the water, while Stingray was dependent upon his armor. Any damage he did was hardly permanent, whereas every blow against the armor threatened Walter Newell’s life.

    Sonar wasn’t of much use against so many opponents in close quarters, where the multiple signals confused Stingray more than anything else. And while the electric bursts proved effective, there were only so many that Stingray could unleash without risking power for the armor’s life support functions.

    In the end, there were simply too many, and Stingray’s armor could only do so much. Webbed, blue hands held him down, and one that had hung back swam forward. Except for the green skin and reptilian wings on his feet, the creature looked to Stingray much like an old ally.

    “You have knowledge,” the undersea dweller ‘spoke’ in a language of sonar. “This you will give us, in exchange for your life. An awful

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  • Binary

    death, pink skins suffer this far below."

    “I’ll never tell you anything!” Stingray screamed, his words carried through the water by his armor’s sonar function. “Aaahh!”

    Long, thick fingers pressed Stingray’s armor so that he felt it right to the skin and bone. “Better to kill you now, maybe, but I’ve been told that he knows you, even considers you a friend. There is value in that, so you will live. But you will talk also, one way or another.

    Again Stingray screamed, but the broken communications array failed to transmit to his wife Diane. She sat at the research station fearful, unsure of her husband’s safety and of what she should do. Finally, she made a decision, and after adjusting the frequency leaned back towards the microphone.

    “Calling the Avengers. Please respond.”



    Written by Steve Crosby

    They sat across from each other at a small table, in the airport restaurant. Drinks had just been served, and Steve Rogers noted that Carol Danvers was drinking black coffee.

    “I was glad to hear you overcame the latest relapse,” he said.

    “Thanks.” Carol didn’t look at Steve as she sipped the coffee. They both knew she wanted a drink, had eyed the bottles at the bar with hunger. His mentioning the problem had made her uncomfortable. Aware of how difficult it’d been just to arrange the meeting, and fearful that she would run off again, Steve Rogers kept the conversation going.

    “That was impressive, how you brought the plane down.” Steve could help but smirk. “When they saw you flying past, some of the passengers exclaimed that you

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  • were going to grab the wing. A few were surprised when you didn’t.”

    “Stupid movies,” Carol remarked. A trained Air Force pilot, she knew how planes worked, was intimate with the mechanics of flight. “Nothing done in those is ever right. Grabbing a wing would have ripped it right off, set the plane off balance and into a spin. Then things would have gotten hard.”

    “You know I don’t need an explanation.”

    “Sorry. Maybe it’s just me venting.” Another sip at the coffee. Carol wasn’t going to do anything to help Steve in the conversation.

    “I’d like you to come to New York City, Carol,” he told her at last. “Warbird should get back to being an Avenger.”

    Another sip, then Carol sighed. “You don’t want me, Steve. Everything about me has gotten unstable these days.”

    “The way you brought down that plane and saved all those people, myself included, says otherwise.” Steve finally took a gulp of his own drink, a tall glass of milk. Wiping away the white moustache, he continued. “Not field work, if you’re uncomfortable with that. Training, logistics, communications and monitor duty, things like that. You’re an asset in a lot of ways, Carol.”

    “Maybe.” But Carol was still unsure. “Quicksilver’s at the mansion. Aren’t you afraid we’ll kill each other?”

    “I’ve spoken with him about the incident with Rogue. For the time being you’ll both just…keep out of each other’s way.”

    A laugh couldn’t be helped. Carol gave a light shake of the head, swaying that golden hair. “Kind of hard to do if we’re on the same team, living in the same mansion.”

  • “But it can be done,” Steve urged. “Eventually you can both work through things. Pietro has issues with Karnak, but they’ve managed to put it aside when required.”

    “Counting on my experience to see me through.” Carol shifted her eyes, almost unconsciously, towards the bar. “Steve, Captain, my experiences are exactly what put me in this state to begin with. I’m damaged goods, and the best you can hope for is that I wouldn’t take anyone else down to the bottom with me.”

    “I disagree.” Captain America leaned forward and spoke in hushed tones. “You’re one of the strongest women I know, Carol. Come with me to New York, and you can do one of two things. Prove me wrong or prove yourself wrong. Who would you prefer?”

    For a few seconds that seemed a long time, Carol Danvers stared down at her coffee and didn’t say anything. Then her eyes rose, met Captain America’s. Warbird gave her answer.


    The Avengers Quinjet hovered over the still ocean water, directly over the spot of Stingray’s last transmission. At first hearing of who was inside the Quinjet, one would almost think the craft had been stolen, as only one of the four occupants had ever been associated with the team for any length of time. And given his particularly impatient mood at that moment, Quicksilver certainly wasn’t acting like an Avenger.

    “Be quiet, you,” Quicksilver snapped at Diane Arliss- Newell. As a mutant with the power of super-speed, the task of piloting was slow and tiresome. “Your hysterical prattling isn’t going to make us find your husband any faster. Or rather, his body as he’s already most likely dead.”

    “I’m sure he’s not, Diane,” Andromeda said in a

  • reassuring fashion while staring daggers at Quicksilver. And if he were, she silently promised, those responsible would pay dearly. “Right, Karnak?”

    “Hmm,” Karnak murmured, who had apparently been lost in thought. “Sorry, but I had just realized, Pietro, that you don’t need working legs to fly this ship.”

    “In the time it took you to threaten me I could have smashed your head in a dozen times,” Quicksilver remarked in an idle fashion. It wasn’t the first time such threats had been exchanged.

    “You two try not to kill each other while I’m gone,” Andromeda stated. “Diane, think positive thoughts.” Opening the door of the Quinjet, Andromeda leapt out and into the water. Immediately she felt better, feeling the cool salt water around her body and revitalizing her. As a native Atlantean, the ocean was her natural habitat, and also made her best suited to search for Stin