After using his last bit of petty cash, Rick Jones manages to flop down in a dingy motel room. Even though the room seems to be the source of every bad motel's cliche, at least it has a bed, and that's something he hasn't been used to for a while.
Rick: "I'm tempted to use my pistol to clear the cockroach problem, but decide against wasting the power."
But even as he starts to relax, a knock comes from the door. Trying to take whatever precautions he can, Rick soon cracks the door without unlatching the chain, revealing a beautiful young lady whose trenchcoat and low hat covers most of her outfit and features. Even so, he recognizes her as one of the government agents who have been hounding your trail these past days.
Rick readies his blaster…
Before he can respond, the woman slams her fist on the door, keeping it ajar, and whispers quickly, "Rick Jones! Listen quickly and do not speak! Your life is in danger more than ever!
"I've reason to believe the head of our Investigative Team, the one that is chasing you, is an alien, and seems to pursue you beyond a professional agenda! He will stop at nothing to destroy you completely, and is even now collecting agents of unspeakable power to bring you down!
"Your only hope is to assemble agents of your own to protect you! This dossier will detail several candidates who have yet to be contacted by my overboss, and this piece of equipment confiscated from the alien ship will allow you to contact them via a 'projected electronic image.'
Rick starts to respond as she shoves two small packages through the crack in the doorway, and she hastily continues, "You must believe me! It is not your own life that is merely in danger! My overboss will surely use his agents to also destroy any and all evidence of your activities after your Contact-- and that means any busload of people you've ridden with, any diner you've eaten at, every person you've breathed on since your contact, including that nice lady who gave you this room at a discount!"
She paused, a crack in her breath, "and... that includes me and everyone on the team assigned to follow you."
Shaking the momentary coldness off, she finishes, "Use the information I've provided and then use this money to meet them, somewhere. You can even exchange that money somewhere before you go if you think we will use it to trace you. But leave before the morning is over, since our team will surely be on your trail soon. I've delayed them enough to give you maybe until 11am. That's all I can do! Good luck!"
And with that, she turns quickly and disappears down the hall and into the night. Rick fumbles with the latch and cautiously but hurriedly try to catch his mysterious benefactor.
Rick: "Wait. Come back. Who are you? (Aaargh. She escaped. Aargh.)"
Rick is puzzled-- having no reason to really trust her, but there was something in her eyes... some tender emotion that seems genuine. And if there really IS an assembled team of Marvels out to get him-- well, he had better be safe than sorry!
Rick: A Kree memory flashes back - having been shot down on a hostile planet, Skrulls searching everywhere for me. Desperation, terror, the panic attacks of being trapped held barely under control by an enforced military discipline - all of which passes though my mind in a second. I can feel the iron discipline of the Kree military training holding my own natural impulsiveness in check.
Rick was left with a small electronic device wrapped in a paper with instructions written on it, a wad of cash, and an envelope that provides sketchy details on a team of so-called "Marvels" who have recently made the public scene. These names have a note pinned to them-- detailing that they were not contacted by your Pursuers due to their altruistic nature, which might prevent them from performing . . . "extreme tactics."
Rick: While counting the cash, I ponder that this might be a clever trap - an attempt to get me in a specific time and place so the Marvel force can ambush me. Clearly, I am reacting with excessive paranoia, but what's that phrase - " Even paranoids have enemies!"
One thing is for sure - this place is blown. I don't know how she found me, but the babe was correct in her assessment that I'm placing people in danger by staying here - and that's not cool. I take a quick shower (Ahhhh. Almost as good as sleep), and take the fire escape to the roof. Poking around the city rooftops for awhile (as inconspicuously as possible), looking for a place with cover so that I might catch a little sleep. I review the dossier:
Rick: I remember old Doc Savage pulps, and joke to myself that his skin color is wrong. "Heh. Mr. Fantastic. No ego problem THERE..."
Rick: Shwing. She can light my colors anytime.
Rick: Most of my warning bells go off - what if he is a Skrull. I recall the Sherlock Holmesian adage about hiding in plain sight - what better disguise than almost no disguise? Whether or not the rest of the team are agents for the Skrulls, he might be one without their knowledge.
Rick: I decide that of the four, the one I would trust the most would be Herbie the Super-Ape; if I tried to contact Rainbow Girl, the others would feel defensive, and follow her - whether she wanted them to or not. But Herbie knows what its like to be an outcast, to be hunted and caged and tested and tested - until he escaped. He'll be my best bet at gaining a genuine advocate with the others.
After a few hours of sleep, I change locations (an abandoned warehouse near the Soho district), and use the holographic projector to contact Herbie. I point out the similarities in our origins without being too heavy-handed about it - both of us victims of an accident, both of us with profound changes, both of us cast alone into the mainstream world, alone. I ask him to meet me at the NY Zoo in Central Park at midnight. When I am done, I cache the projector in the rafters of the building - I don't want to be traced with it, but I might need it again. I hide outside the warehouse for several hours, watching to see if anyone shows up following my signal.
I then spend the rest of the day in Central Park, staking out the Park (and catching lunch from street vendors); I want to make sure that there are no insertion teams or surveillance equipment being planted. If things are clear, I'll keep my meeting....
While waiting, I wonder about the mysterious woman in the trenchcoat - I have to figure a way to keep the chase going until I can neutralize the threat of the Overboss; all those innocent deaths (and the not-so-innocent deaths of the agents chasing me) would be on my head, and I don't want that. Especially of hers - beautiful women with compassion are not so plentiful that we can afford to waste them....