Chapter 5
Enter The Juggernaut

I was discharged from the hospital the next day. As they wheeled me out to the Moore’s SUV, I couldn’t help feeling like every eye was on me, the freak who got her parents killed. On a conscious level, I knew no one noticed me, but the guilt I felt was still gnawing at me. Those people stole my innocence, and I could never get it back, no matter how many I killed or maimed on the path to revenge.

I kept my eyes straight ahead. Shutting my mind down, I didn’t want to know what anyone was thinking. I needed to get back to my center and work through the feelings I was having. I would never have my mother to show me the finer points of being a girl, or a woman. Never have those talks late at night when things were going wrong and I needed a boost to my self esteem. No one would love me like my mother.

What about Dad? Who would walk me down the aisle if I got married? Would I have kids? Could I have kids? They wouldn’t have a grandfather. I wasn’t the son he had raised, but a lot of the girl I became was because of his encouragement. Looking at my lap, I was glad I wore sunglasses. I didn’t think I could cry more tears, but they wouldn’t stop. I loved how the meditation made me feel. All of my emotions melted away, and I felt focused and calm. Everything made sense there. Here, nothing did. I was a scared little girl in a big world where everyone, it seemed, was out to get me.

“Okay, Betsy” Carla, my nurse prompted. “We’re here.”

Slowly, I raised my head, and stared numbly at the Moore’s SUV waiting for me. Agent Morgan had arranged for the Moore’s to be my guardians. They volunteered, and I wasn’t going to be shipped off to some foster home for a few months.

“Thank you, Carla.” I got out of the chair and stepped to the vehicle. Tracy was waiting for me and helped me into the vehicle.

I heard Carla before the door shut. “Take care, Betsy. I’ll be praying for you.”

I nodded slowly and gave her a weak smile. She was a good person, who was very sympathetic to me. She had lost her parents early too, and she took extra time with me. Prayers I could use, but they wouldn’t help the people I was going to destroy to redeem the lives of my parents.

That thought scared me. Would I become a cold blooded killer like the assassins? I didn’t want that either. I wanted justice, but my justice was an eye for an eye. Everyone who had a part in my parents’ death would die. The one thing that saved me was that somehow, Sensei Ozawa didn’t seem to be gone. I could visit with him. I could still learn. And I would.

“Honey? Betsy?” Tracy’s voice brought me out of my thoughts. “Are you okay? You’re so quiet.”

I don’t feel like talking, Tracy. It’s too much work. I projected.

Are you hungry?

No, just take me home, or your house, whatever.

I wish I could take all of this away, baby. I hurt for you like you wouldn’t believe.

I glanced in her direction. She had my hand and tears were flowing down her cheeks. Smiling, I leaned over and gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek. I could taste her salty tears. I know you do, Trace. Just the fact that you are here for me now means everything to me. Remember, I can read you like a book.

Not unless I say you can, Einstein.

We held hands for the remainder of the trip home. Thankfully, the trip was relatively short. I went to get my bag and backpack, but Mr. Moore wouldn’t hear of it. “I’ve got this stuff, Betsy. You go on in.

“Thank you, Mr. Moore” I replied.

Tracy and I walked into the house, where Tracy’s mom was waiting for us. She came up to me and gave me a gentle hug that made me think of Mom. I started crying all over again.

“There, there, Betsy. Let it all out. We’re all so sorry for your loss. Your Mom and Dad were the best. We loved them too.”

I couldn’t reply. Sometimes I hated being emotional. I never was before, but the change affected me in that way. Now wasn’t one of those times. I felt so much better after a good cry, and if I didn’t have that outlet, I would have been suicidal.

I felt better after about three or four minutes. Mr. Moore and Tracy were standing by us, both with tears in their eyes.

I laughed a bit while I dabbed my eyes with a tissue. “I’m sorry for being such a crybaby. I can’t seem to help it.”

Mrs. Moore held my hand. “Don’t you think a thing about it, Betsy. You’re dealing with a terrible tragedy. We’re here to help you through it. Please don’t ever feel like you are a burden to us. You were like a son to us before, and now, you’re another daughter.”

“What about all of the arrangements for the…funeral?”

Mr. Moore spoke up. “It’s all taken care of, Betsy. You said handle it, and Mary and I did.”

“Thank you so much. I couldn’t have done it.”

“It was an honor to be asked. I can’t help but feel we are burying part of our family.” He paused, turning away, then, as if remembering something, he turned back to me. “There will be some issues to take care of, Betsy. You’ll have to sign off on the estate, but I’ve got our attorney working on it, and when he found out who you were, he wanted to do it pro bono.”

“That’s free, right?” I asked.

“Yes it is. I told him he didn’t have to, but he lost some loved ones in a terrorist attack, and wouldn’t hear of being paid.”

Sighing, I responded. “I’ll thank him when I see him. I just don’t know what else to say.”

“It’s okay, girl” said Tracy. “No one expects anything from you right now. Just heal.”

Mrs. Gestured like she remembered something “Oh! There was a package delivered for you. It’s a long package. It was addressed in something like Japanese or Chinese lettering, with your name and our address on the label. I put it in your room.”

Shrugging, I replied. “Thanks, Mrs. Moore. I’ll take a look at it. Where’s my room?”

“It’s the old guest room. We haven’t had time to change the décor yet. We’ll leave that to you.”

I went up to my room, and saw the package on the bed. I went over to the bed and sat, examining the package. It was then I realized something. I could read the writing on the label. It wasn’t like it appeared to me in English; I just knew what the symbols meant. The writing said ‘From your brothers of the Hand. This is the Fang of the Dragon Matsuo Ozawa. It is now yours. Strike our vengeance.’ The shipping label was just for the delivery man. The message was the writing.

I started to open the package carefully. As I tore the wrapping, I felt a sudden cramp in my lower tummy. Rubbing it, I realized I must be hungry. After unwrapping the package, I found an ornate box about three feet long. It was made of a dark wood, and was very ornate. It was hinged in the back. Opening it, I saw something that made me gasp. It was a sword. Specifically, it was a katana. It shone in the light. It was in its own indentation in the box, along with the scabbard. I picked it up, and the blade felt like nothing in my hand. The balance was perfect. I had some training with weapons, and I gave the blade a spin in my hand. The kind you see in the movies. I whirled it around in front of me in a figure eight pattern like I had been doing it my entire life. I had control of this thing, and I knew I could use it.

“What in the hell is going on? I shouldn’t be able to do this.” I said to no one. I then put on a display of sword handling that would put an Olympic athlete to shame, all in my little room. This was way cool. I sheathed the blade and took the mount out of the box. I put the mount on my dresser and placed the katana in its place. I bowed and left my room.

I went back downstairs, and went to the kitchen, rubbing my lower tummy.

Tracy saw me and asked me what was wrong.

“I don’t know, Trace. I have been getting some pains in my tummy.”

She came over to me. “What kind of pain?”

“I don’t know. It’s like nothing I’ve ever felt before. It’s down here, and it feels like a cramp, but I don’t have to go to the bathroom. I feel kind of…heavy, here” I pointed to my lower abdominal area.

Tracy began to smile. Come with me, my dear. She called her mom. “Mommmm? I think Betsy’s Aunt Flo is coming for a visit.”

From the other side of the house, I heard. “Oh goodie! Be right there, dear”

Baffled, I looked at Tracy like she was stupid. “What are you talking about? I don’t have an Aunt Flo. Where are we going?”

Mrs. Moore met us at Tracy and my shared bathroom. “Soo, you’ve finally arrived, huh. Welcome to the club!”

I was clueless “Okay, will someone let me in on the secret?”

Tracy crossed her arms. “You are so dense sometimes. Pull down your pants, Betsy.”

I pulled down my jeans to my knees. “Well?”

“Look in your panties.”

Pulling the waistband of my panties out, I looked down my panties. I didn’t see anything. “What!”

Rolling her eyes, she said. “Between your legs, dopey”

I looked at the crotch and gasped. There was blood. Then I understood. “Oh, shit!”

Tracy and her mother had a good laugh at my expense. I had to smile too. Life goes on.

“What do I do” I shrieked. “This is sooo gross!”

Mrs. Moore stepped in. “Take it easy, Betsy. It’s nothing to get excited about. Let’s get you cleaned up and give you some options.

I got out of my clothes and took a shower. I bled some more in the shower and told Mrs. Moore, but she said it was nothing to worry about. I couldn’t help but think how strange this would have seemed to Brian. Standing in the shower bleeding and it was no big deal to anyone. It really wasn’t a big deal to me, it was just gross.

After stepping out of the shower, Tracy’s mom showed me what I could do. She had a pad and a tampon. She explained the differences and what I could do. I really didn’t want anything up inside me, but Mrs. Moore thought I should learn how to use one. She showed me how, and I put it in. It wasn’t so hard, and I didn’t really feel it. She told me to wear it until bedtime, and then to take it out and dispose of it. Then I could wear a pad to sleep in. She told me how to properly dispose of them.

Mrs. Moore told me to go into my room. She said they had bought me some basics to replace some of what I lost in the fire. I hadn’t even thought of that. I found some new panties–my size, yay–and a pair of short shorts and a cute pink tee. I loved that look. I loved it on Tracy when I was Brian, and I loved to wear it as Betsy. I went over to Tracy’s room. She was on her bed, painting her nails a really cute shade of pink.

“Hey, sweetie! Are you all situated now?” She asked.

“Yes, thanks to your mom. She’s a good teacher.”

She blew on her right hand. “So you weren’t freaked out standing around naked in front of my mother?”

Wrinkling my nose, I responded “No, should I have been?”

“Brian would have been!” She giggled.

I started giggling too. “Brian’s gone bye bye, girlfriend. Elizabeth’s in the house!”

I looked at her painting her nails. “Could you do that for me? I’ve never done that before.”

“I thought you’d never ask! Let me get dry, and we’ll start on you. What color would you like?”

Thinking a moment, I had an idea. “I like purple, to match my eyes. Do you have a color like that?”

She laughed. “I’ve got every color know to man, and some they haven’t thought of yet. I am the original nail polish nut. To me, it’s the best part of being a girl. I love having pretty nails.”

She found a shade in her collection that worked. It wasn’t exact, but very close. I kept my nails short, and fortunately, my toes were in good shape as well. I had learned nail care in my girl training in the hospital with Mom. I had just never thought about painting my nails. It wasn’t job number one with everything else I was dealing with at the time.

Tracy worked on my fingers with care, putting on two coats and a gloss topcoat. My nails shone. I couldn’t quit looking at them. “They’re perfect, Tracy! Thank you!”

She hugged me. “You’re welcome, baby. So, do you want to try it yourself on your toes?”

“Yes! Just don’t let me screw it up.”

“It’s not a big deal, Betsy. Toes are easier. Your piggies are cute, so you’ll look fantastic.”

Tracy showed me how to do the painting without messing up. I caught on right away, and soon was the proud owner of some rad purple toenails. They really set my feet off. I would look so cute in my sandals.

Tracy and I had fun doing the dinner dishes. She washed and I watched her wash. That’s fun for me! I was able to forget the reason I was on this extended “sleepover”. I was now a member of this family for the remainder of my minor years. I think I can live with that.

The next couple of days were a blur for me. Mom and Dad’s visitation, followed the next day by the funeral. I was like a zombie for the most part. I didn’t want to face anyone, but my parents didn’t raise a coward, and I went through the motions. The visitation was crowded, with over 500 people filing in to pay their respects. One face blended into the next, and while I knew they meant well, I just wasn’t in the mood for company.

A few of my friends from school came, and I did appreciate that, as I know I wouldn’t have wanted to spend and evening at a funeral home. Mostly girls that I had met since coming back, but a few guy friends as well from my boy days. I cried a few tears with them.

The funeral was really tough. I had a little panic attack when I had to leave the cemetery. I knew Mom and Dad were really gone then. They weren’t coming back. I wondered about Sensei Ozawa. His body was not found. The police suspected that he was close to the bomb and had been literally blown to bits. After what I had gone through, I wondered if that was really the case.

Riding back home with Tracy and her family, I looked at Tracy and said loudly, “I shouldn’t have to go through this! What did I ever do to deserve losing my family!” I was angry that someone decided to screw up my life for no good reason.

“I know, Betsy. But don’t let it make you bitter. Take this and let it make you stronger. If you let it eat at you, you’ll destroy yourself, and that is exactly what that jerk wants.”

She made sense. I could either feel sorry for myself, or focus on making myself better for the future. I would get back at Shadow King in my own way, at my own time. I felt better right away. Hugging Tracy, I thanked her for the good advice.

Cain Marko sat in the first class section of the 747 that was winging its way to Cairo. He had taken an extended leave of absence from Queen Industries. They seemed to have things well in hand since the boss’s death. In fact, his role had decreased since Mr. Queen died, and he was consulted less and less. Fine by him. He was getting bored with the job anyway.

At seven feet three inches tall and a rock solid three hundred ninety pounds, he barely fit in the bigger first class seats. “I hate flying commercial” he thought to himself. “No room to stretch”. Being large was an advantage most of the time, especially in his line of work, but in this case, it was like trying to fit ten pounds of crap in a five pound bag.

He had thought Farouk’s offer over and had called him back the next day. He’d take a look at it. He hated the arrogant bastard, but previous arrangements with Farouk had always been profitable, so what he hell. It’s only 16 hours in a sardine can.

He was greeted at the airport by a shady looking man with a sign with Marko’s name scrawled on it. He grabbed his luggage and got into the Mercedes limousine. At least it had leg room and a wet bar. A couple of glasses of Scotch, and he was feeling a little more sociable, which for Marko, was just a little better than a hungry crocodile.

The limo pulled up the palatial estate of Amahl Farouk on the west bank of the Nile. Cain shook his head at the ostentatious display. If it was meant to impress him, it failed miserably. It just pissed him off.

“Greetings, my friend!” smiled Farouk. “Welcome to my humble home.”

“Save it, Farouk.” Growled Marko. “I’m tired, and this deal you have for me had better be good, or they’ll be scraping what’s left of you off the walls. Got it?”

If the threat bothered Farouk, he didn’t let on. “Temper, my friend. I never make idle offers. I need a job done, and I would like you to do it. But first, you must by hungry after your long journey. Please, come and dine with me.”

“All right, something to eat sounds okay. We’ll talk business over the meal. I want to find out what’s on your mind.”

The meal was a sumptuous display of fruits, roasted lamb, and other Middle Eastern delights. Farouk was amazed at the amount of food that Cain put away. “Okay, Farouk. What’s the deal and what’s in it for me?”

“You know about the girl.”

“Yeah, so? You couldn’t take care of her?”

She killed at least ten of my men. She’s dangerous, and she is a threat to my interests. I don’t want to get personally involved, as I’m on several terrorist watch lists, for some reason.” He smiled thinly. “I can’t imagine why.”

Marko suspected that Farouk was one of the financiers for the Al Qaeda network, but he could never draw a line from a to b. He didn’t really care. As long as the cash kept coming, that was a call he didn’t feel compelled to make.

“One girl? She’s what, sixteen, seventeen?”

“She had abilities, Marko. I don’t know exactly what those are, but she has eluded my efforts to kill her thus far.”

“What about a sniper? Car bomb? You people seem to be good at that sort of thing.”

Farouk shook his head. “You know how hard that is to do in the States. For all of your faults, we haven’t been very good at doing that sort of thing there. Law enforcement is pretty good at weeding that sort of thing out, or you’d see it happening every day.”

“So what am I going to do? I kind of stand out in a crowd, and I ain’t no assassin, especially not of some little girl. Time’s runnin’ out for you, ‘friend’. What’s the deal?”

Farouk shifted uneasily. “I have a friend, a Mr. Cyrus Torak. He needs a representative here. I told him you would be a perfect candidate. Someone strong, mentally tough, and willing to do what it takes to get the job done. Interested?”

“Maybe. When do I meet him?”

Farouk got up. “Now, if you’d like. I’ll get him.” He pulled a red gem out of his pocket and set it in front of Marko. “I shall return in a few minutes.”

Farouk left and Marko looked at the gem. It looked to be a garnet or a ruby, large, and clearly valuable. He reached to pick it up. As he held it in his hand, a burst of crimson light emanated from the gem and surrounded Cain Marko. He saw in the light a being, clad in red armor and seated on a throne. Marko didn’t scare easily, but he was scared now.

“CAIN MARKO!” The being said. “I am Cyttorak, and I have chosen you to be my avatar on earth. I offer you power beyond your wildest imaginings. The power to move mountains, the power to destroy cities. You will be invulnerable to their puny weapons. All this and more for swearing loyalty to me.”

This was what Cain Marko had been looking for. He craved power like this. This was a no brainer. “I will, Cyttorak! Make it so!”

The light intensified. Marko felt pain like he had never felt before. His clothing disintegrated, and was replaced by armor that covered his torso. His arms were exposed. His head was covered by a skullcap, them a domed helmet. He them began to grow. Larger than any human, nearly ten feet tall. His arms and legs expanded with huge musculature. Bands of metal encircled his biceps and forearms, his fists were also encircled with metal bands. Tight red pants appeared, ending in huge boots.

“The change is complete, my Juggernaut. Go, and wreak my havoc on the earth!”

The crimson light vanished, and Cain Marko was no more. In his place, stood the Juggernaut, the avatar of destruction.

Cain looked at his new form. “This is more like it, baby!” He looked at himself in a mirror. He was truly fearsome in appearance. “FAROUK! Get in here!”

Farouk came into the room, and stopped short at what he saw. Cyttorak hadn’t told him about this. He was supposed to get Marko here for a reason. But this? He remained calm and spoke. “So, are you happy with the change?”

“Definitely. I have power that I never knew existed!”

“Will you accept this job?”

Juggernaut laughed. “One little girl is the best you got? Sure. I’ll do it. But it had better be worth it, or I’ll be back. For you. No one plays the Juggernaut.”

Farouk abandoned his disguise and appeared in front of Juggernaut as Shadow King. I am not without my abilities as well. He focused his telepathic might at Marko. Nothing happened.

“Nice try, ugly. Brain games don’t work with me. I figured something was up with you, I just didn’t know what. But I’ll tell you something…”

Juggernaut’s right fist lashed out and connected with Shadow King. His body went crashing through walls in four rooms, and he ended up in the courtyard. Stunned, he shook his head as Marko crashed out of the mansion behind him.

“Don’t ever try that shit with me again, or you’ll find out what I can really do. Got it?”

Rubbing his jaw, Shadow King assented. “I understand. The information you need is in this package.” A manila envelope appeared in Shadow King’s hand. Juggernaut took the package and rumbled off, out into the desert.

“Damn Cyttorak! I’ll never listen to him again!” Shadow king paused, then laughed. He wasn’t really hurt. It would take more than one punch, even from the Juggernaut, to finish him. He had just unleashed a monster on the world. Chaos would ensue, and that was what he wanted. And if Betsy Braddock paid the price, so much the better.