"You actually live in this dump?"

Spoor, one of the newest members of the rebuilding Mutant Liberation Front, looked around at the sparse surroundings of the terrorist team's warehouse headquarters. He chuckled, noticing for the first time the room's only chair and television set.

"Funny," Wildside, the white-haired M.L.F.'s leader said in response. "It's not much, but the last time we went looking for a new place to live we chanced upon some... undesireable elements."

"More undesireable than YOU?" Spoor barked, laughing. Walking around the room, he finally plopped down in the black leather chair. Feral and Phantazia, standing behind Wildside, both gasped.

"What?" said Spoor innocently, looking up at the team's leader.

Wildside snarled, seething. "You're in MY chair!" he shouted, wrapping his hands around Spoor's shoulders. Wrenching the mutant from the chair, Wildside picked him up with a burst of adrenaline and tossed Spoor to the warehouse's cold floor.

"Your chair?" snapped Spoor, shooting to his feet. "I don't seem to see your name on it anywhere, 'boss'. You know, I don't know if I should thank you or kill you for getting me out of the helicarrier. Compared to this," Spoor said, looking around the warehouse again, "my cell was paradise!"

"If that's the case," growled Wildside. "You're free to go. I'm thinking that it was a mistake freeing you in the first place." Wildside sat down in the black chair, waiting for Spoor to reply.

(last issue - Eric)

Spoor looked over at Feral and Phantazia, then over at Strobe, who until recently was another captive of S.H.I.E.L.D. Grinning, Spoor said, "Let me think about this... three chicks, and me. Hmm... three chicks... and me. All right, 'boss', you've got me. I think I'm gonna like this after all..."

(last issue again - Eric)

(Strategic Hazard Intervention Espionage Logistics Directorate - Eric)

"Dream on," Feral whispered, glancing toward the warehouse's large windows. A low humming sound caught her attention, but she didn't see anything outside the warehouse.

"Great. So how about you?" said Wildside, looking over at the disgusted Strobe, who was giving Spoor an evil glare. "We did free you... you owe us something."

Strobe sighed. "As loathe as I am to sign on with you leading, Wildside, I'll do it." The red-haired woman crossed the room to the television and snapped it on. Soon, she was joined by Feral as the daily Jerry Springer show came on.

Feral turned away from the television, still hearing the low humming sound from outside. Nothing was visible through the windows, still, but she couldn't quite shake the feeling that something was going to happen. Something bad...

The Metropolitan Bank of Manhattan is supposed to be burglar-proof. WAS supposed to be burglar-proof, that is. One bank patron made it out before the burglar shut the doors and took everyone hostage. The man stood outside the bank, trying to explain what happened to the police, who were crowding around the bank.

"...and then, he was just... there!" the man concluded, sipping on the cup of coffee the policeman had brought him. "I mean... I was standing there, waiting to cash my check, and *POOF*, there he was! Funky red costume, a little black mask on his face..."

"So you've said before," the policeman said, rubbing his eyes. The third robbery in a week... and they all were being commited by the same man, it seemed like. How he got out of the banks without anyone seeing escaped the cop. "Poof, right. Any idea who this guy might be...?"

(last issue - Eric)

The man shook his head, then took another sip of coffee. Black... just the way he liked it. "None whatsoever... sorry officer."

"Perhaps we can help?" came a voice from behind the cop. He whirled around, coming face to face with a duo of what appeared to be super-heroes. One of them... the younger one, it seemed, grinned. His tall blonde hair stood high atop his head. "I'm Speedball... this is my buddy Rage," began the young man, cocking a thumb toward the large man behind him. "We're New Warriors."

"That's great, kid," replied the policeman. "How can you help...?"

Speedball's grin got wider. "Well, my buddy here can bust down the vault's door... that's where the bad guy is, right? And I can jump in there and subdue the guy before he can escape again. Sounds like a good plan, huh?"

The policeman shook his head and rolled his eyes plaintively. "Is Spider-Man with you kids? Maybe Cap, or the rest of the Avengers...?"

"No," said Speedball, his grin disappearing. "Just us. We can handle it, promise! Isn't that right, Rage?"

"Right," the big man mumbled, agreeing with his partner. Cracking his knuckles, Rage took a step forward. He glowered down at the policeman, who looked up at the New Warrior, his eyes wide. "We CAN take care of this!"

"Um," began the cop, taking an involuntary step back from the well-muscled, seven foot tall man. "You're more than welcome to take a stab at it!"

Speedball's grin instantly reappeared on his face. The two young heroes trudged toward the bank, and entered the front doors. The policeman looked over at the bank patron, who simply looked back at him.

A large clanging sound came from within the bank as Rage ripped the vault's door off of its' hinges. Minutes later, patrons began to pour out of the bank, some of them coughing and wheezing. Behind them came Rage and Speedball, looking rather despondant.

"Um..." said Speedball.

"Wait," interrupted the cop. "Let me guess. You charged in there, your buddy Rage ripped the expensive vault door off of its' hinges, you leapt in there to subdue him, only to find him gone. Right?"

Speedball nodded reluctantly.

Sighing, the policeman said, "Great... Just great!"

"Is everything ready, Barver?"

"Yes sir, Colonel Fury sir."

Nicholas Fury, Director of the government-backed group S.H.I.E.L.D. nodded at his assistant, yet another stogie planted firmly in-between his lips. Fury stood atop the roof of a warehouse, looking down at the building that housed the mutant terrorist group.

"Check, Wildside," Fury muttered, nodding his head toward the young Barver. "Send the cyborg in first, then our men can go in. Got it?"

Nodding back, the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent got on his radio and called in the attack squads.

Feral peered out the warehouse's windows, something tugging at the back of her mind. The M.L.F.'s liberation of Spoor and Strobe seemed awfully easy to her, but she didn't know if it was a trap or not. The low humming sound caught her ears once again, and she perked up immediately.

The other members of the M.L.F. sat around a recently stolen table, going over plans for their next raid.

"...and that's that. With Phantazia fully charged up, we can 'port all the way to Baltimore and back." Wildside looked up from the map of the U.S. laid out before him, regarding the other three people with a stern look.

"Any questions?"

"Yeah," offered Spoor, frowning. "How the hell did you get put in charge of this group? That has to be the worst plan I've ever heard in my entire life..."

Wildside sneered. "If you don't like it, Spoor, then feel free to try and do something about it."

"Maybe I will," said Spoor, leaning over the table towards the M.L.F.'s leader.

Feral came rushing over to the table, interrupting the argument before it got carried away. She pointed toward the windows, but before she could say anything, the bay doors of the warehouse exploded inward. Shards of metal flew through the air, narrowly missing the ducking member of the M.L.F.

"Cease and desist!" came a mechanical voice from the doorway. A massive man, or what appeared to be a man, at least, strode forward into the warehouse. Huge guns were attached to its' arms, and a small bay of missiles hung over its' left shoulder. "In the name of S.H.I.E.L.D. and the United States Government, you are all hereby under arrest."

Wildside glared over at Spoor. "You led them right to us, didn't you? You sold us out!"

"Wasn't me, pal!" roared Spoor, lunging over the table at Wildside. The two swung wildly at each other for a few moments, before Strobe and Phantazia pulled Spoor off of the white-haired mutant. "Don't EVER accuse me of that again, do you hear me?!? I'll kill you next time..."

"CEASE AND DESIST!" came the voice again, louder this time, with more authority. A small cadre of S.H.I.E.L.D. soldiers began crowding behind the man, their guns at the ready.

Suddenly, the door at the back of the warehouse burst open. More S.H.I.E.L.D. soldiers flooded in, guns up and pointed at the members of the M.L.F.

"Well...?" said Strobe, looking toward Wildside.

The leader of the M.L.F. grinned. "Wipe them out... all of them!"

Jumping into action, the M.L.F.'ers were met with a massive barrage of gunfire, but somehow seemed to weave their way through it all in order to get to the soldiers. The man in the doorway opened fire with his giant cannons, knocking Feral backwards and to the ground.

Phantazia teleported behind the man, building up an electrical charge in her hands. Using her powers, which were electrical in nature, the white-haired woman laid her hands on the back of the man and flooded his body with electricity.

"Cease and desist!" the man said mechanically, turning around to face Phantazia. To her horror, she saw that the man had glowing red eyes... no way could he be human. Bringing the guns up, the man opened fire, but Phantazia teleported across the room before he could hit her.

"What IS that thing?" Phantazia called out, knocking a few S.H.I.E.L.D. soldiers down with her electrical blasts. Still more came rushing in, and she saw that the M.L.F. was being seperated and ganged up on.

Feral sat up, shook her head, and growled. Leaping up, she landed on a soldier and ripped his throat out with one swift motion. Licking the blood from her fingers, she raced over to another group of men that were trying to fire at her.

"Dammit, Barver!" Fury shouted, watching the battle from his perch across the street. Lowering his binoculars, he turned to his assistant. "I told you to send in the cyborg first, let him clean 'em out, and THEN send in the men! They're getting creamed in there!"

"S-Sorry sir!" exclaimed the young man, noticeably trembling.

Fury frowned. "Get 'em out of there, and let the cyborg do its job! Now, do you understand that?"

"Y-Yes sir!"

Strobe watched as the S.H.I.E.L.D. soldiers backed away from the M.L.F. and out the entrances they had forcibly made in the warehouse's walls. The man... thing?... that had originally busted in remained behind. It took a few steps forward, something whirring in its body.

"Do... do you hear that?" inquired Phantazia, looking at the being in the doorway. Something was very wrong...

"Cease and desist!" the cyborg said once again, its' guns raised.

Wildside sniffed at the air, a fallen S.H.I.E.L.D. soldier at his feet. He looked over at Feral, an alarmed look on his face, then over at Spoor and the others. Sneering, Wildside looked back at the man in the doorway.

"What is it?" asked Strobe.

"Plastique..." said Wildside simply, answering Strobe's inquiry, "Whatever that thing is, it ain't human... and it's going to--"

Fury and Barver shrank back as the warehouse exploded in front of them. The remaining soldiers that were close to the epicenter flew backwards, pushed along by the force of the blast. A gigantic fireball shot into the air.

Looking back, Fury was pleased to see the entire warehouse was reduced to rubble. Wildside was a crafty man, but there was little chance that he and his team had escaped that blast uninjured. They were alive, he could almost feel that... but they were unconscious, if anything.

"Checkmate," the Director muttered, taking a long puff from his cigar.

In M.L.F. #3: Fury seems to think that the M.L.F. is still alive under all that metal and wood! Find out in Part 2 of "M.L.F. - Hunted!"