The Mad Bomber!

The Mad Bomber stood framed in the door. With his combat mesh stocked full of different firearms, grenades, and explosive looking devices he struck a comical pose, "Did you miss me Hawky?" His eyes are hidden behind a dark pair of goggles that glow crimson. He cackles again and before I had time to react he had thrown a stun grenade my way. The concussive force of the explosion blew me through my kitchen wall. This is going to be hell explaining this to the insurance company I thought to myself as I land on my expensive coffee table shattering it into a thousand pieces. Great they're working together I thought as I heard them cackling away in the remnants of my kitchen. With an dept twist of my wrist I have in my hand a small capsule previously secreted up my sleeve away from harm. As I stood up they were coming at me again, I can't take the two of them I thought to myself. Flicking the small capsule in the direction of King Crock I am rewarded with his startled cry as the chemical agents within the capsule merge and begin to take action. Within moments he is doubled up on the floor in pain clawing at his face desperately. The Mad Bomber glances down at his fallen villain with little regard, tapping his protective eye-wear in a manner clearly indicating that they weren't just for style "I won't be that easy Hawkboy." He's goading me at this point, trying to get me to make the first move. He knows I'm tired for he's come in on the second half of a battle and I look it. Without warning he pounces a blade in one hand and a small black box in the other, I react without hesitation disarming him of his knife only to be rewarded by a painful crackle as I am thrown back a full yard. Damn taser I think to myself, the only thing technology is really doing is giving us more and better ways of hurting one another. "I just hit you with enough juice to take down a bull in heat, your finished hawk, your crime fighting days are over." I lie here waiting for my coming doom knowing only one thing that this madman doesn't know, I am a genius and he is not. It's not your normal everyday crime fighter that would build into his suit a grounding mechanism, essentially a lightning rob, in order to redistribute electrical stimuli; in this case electricity away from my body into the ground leaving my body a little stunned if not perfectly unharmed. I got heat and cold sensors built into this baby as well, when I'm wearing her I'm extremely hard to kill. At this point The Mad Bomber has retrieved his knife and is bending over me, "I am going to cut that suit up and blow you up from the inside, your finished hawky." With that I do several things at once. First I activate my suits ultra magnetic personal field pulling all of his grenade pins, extra bullets, and essentially any piece of metal not strapped down to him off of his body. Second I block his knife strike by breaking his arm in two places using my arms. Thirdly I use my legs to propel The Mad Bomber a good ten feet backwards in a tumbling heap and fourthly run the opposite direction fast. Fortunately for me all of these happen over a period of five seconds, unfortunately for me the Bomber employs three second fuses, I lose consciousness as every single one of The Mad Bomber's grenades explodes at the same time throwing me and the remains of my apartment in every which way.