94: Does Spider-Woman Knows Andrew? & Angry George

Inside the lab, Jack reported grimly, "With Spider-Woman's help, police arrested that homeless guy." 

Hearing the news, Peter sighed in relief. At least the problem was contained before the rogue subject could cause greater havoc.

But Norman sank into his seat, the blood draining from his face. He understood well the implications of this arrest. Once questioning revealed his involvement, he would be finished completely.

"Doctor Osborn..." Peter started to say. 

But Norman suddenly exploded, "Get out, all of you!"

Peter and Jack exchanged frowns at this abrupt shift in temperament. But their thoughts differed. 

Peter sighed resignedly and slowly exited the lab. Jack on the other hand seethed inwardly at Norman's disrespect. But considering the precarious situation, he swallowed his pride for now and left with Peter, shutting the lab door behind them.

Alone in the hall, Jack regarded Peter curiously. "After how he just treated you, you still want to help him?"

He went on, "You know, he even considered experimenting on you when you were knocked out?" Jack revealed what had occurred while Peter was unconscious. 

Hearing that, anger flashed across Peter's face briefly before he responded evenly, "In any case, he's still my good friend's father. I can't just stand by while he repeats mistakes."

Jack lit a cigarette, pondering Peter's words. "You're too soft," he concluded simply.

Inside the lab, Norman regarded the monkey they had returned to normal. All its vitals were stable and its physique restored.

"The inhibition drug works. If combined with the enhancement formula, perhaps it could be controlled..." Norman muttered, inspiration striking.

He swiftly pulled out his phone and dialed a number from memory. After several rings, a gruff voice answered. "Norman? You better be calling to report success." 

Norman's expression soured, but he laughed obligingly. "General, the perfected version is still in progress, but we've made a new breakthrough." 

The general's interest was instantly piqued. "Go on then." 

"This new drug stimulates comprehensive physical development in subjects. But the side effect is the manifestation of a violent secondary psyche," Norman explained. 

"However, we also engineered an inhibition agent that can restore them to normal upon reinjection." 

After hearing Norman's summary, the general snapped angrily, "And how does this relate to the new Captain America I want?"

Chagrined, Norman continued delicately, "General, I understand this is far from your ideal outcome..."

But the general cut him off sharply. "Okay Norman, let's not beat around the bush. You wouldn't reveal some half-baked prototype normally. Something's gone wrong and now you want my help, correct?" 

Caught red-handed, Norman admitted reluctantly, "Yes General. I do urgently require your assistance."

The general mused, "Your research shows some promise I suppose. Very well, I can provide some aid, so long as it doesn't entail military involvement."

Norman noted the general's circumspection. Ready to cast off any association at the first sign of trouble. This didn't inspire confidence that the man would really lend assistance. 

Still, for the sake of his own future, Norman swallowed his pride and confessed the entire incident with the homeless vagrant subject. The general's existing aid meant few details could be omitted anyway. Norman figured even if the man refused to help now, it changed little. 

But the general's first reaction was to curse furiously. "Norman, have you lost your mind? Illegally experimenting on abducted subjects, then letting your creation escape? Do you comprehend the maelstrom that could stir up?" 

Both understood how the court of public opinion could easily destroy someone in this country. The freshly fallen Jin Bing was a prime example.

Before Norman could plead his case further, the general declared bluntly, "Consider our association dissolved, Osborn. The military wants no part in this, don't contact us again." 

Desperately Norman argued, "General, you know I'm the only one capable of perfecting the enhancement formula! Aid me just this once more!" 

But the general only laughed derisively. "You? Haven't you heard of Hammer Industries?"

Momentarily confused by the non sequitur, Norman answered slowly, "Yes, led by Justin Hammer. Black market arms dealers..." 

"They've replicated the Iron Legion," the general interjected, "and will be unveiling it soon. Once successful, the DoD will partner with Hammer Industries indefinitely." 

The general chuckled before twisting the knife. "Frankly Norman, your super soldier research is pitifully sluggish by comparison. I've only humored you out of courtesy until now. But with or without you, it makes no difference to me." 

The line disconnected, leaving Norman reeling. From this point on, the military had washed their hands of him. Without that backing, there was no containing this incident.

Utterly powerless, Norman sank into the chair before the experimental monkey, gazing hollowly. He finally grasped the depth of his naivete, daring to conspire with the military. 

Now he understood the yawning gap between himself and Howard Stark. And Tony Stark.

A rasping laugh escaped Norman's lips, echoing through the empty lab. 

Inside S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters, Nick Fury watched the footage of the homeless mutant shrinking back from Andrew's car, brows furrowed. "Andrew is certainly no ordinary man..."

"Hill!" 

Responding promptly, Hill asked, "Orders, Director?" 

"Get someone over to the NYPD," Fury instructed. "I need to know everything about this escaped experiment. Every single detail." 

"Understood!" Hill acknowledged and hurried off to fulfill the task. 

Fury watched Spider-Woman swing into view and easily take charge of the situation. "Interesting...could she be connected to Andrew somehow?" Fury mused.

Tony's House

Rhodey and Yinsen sat with Tony, all silent for the moment. 

Finally Rhodey spoke up. "Tony, the biggest issue now is the Defense Department wants to pin this whole mess on you." 

He went on, "If I hadn't pressed hard, there'd be tanks at your door already."

Tony just shrugged helplessly. "Technically this has nothing to do with me. If anything, it stems from my old man." 

Rhodey looked incredulous. "Tony, your dad's been dead twenty years!"

"Somehow I don't think 'my dead dad did it' will satisfy the higher ups," Rhodey said wryly. "They just want in on your armor tech, anyway they can get it."

Tony gave a sardonic smile, having no plans to mention Anton Vanko. The DoD1 wouldn't care about ancient history. In blunt terms, they simply coveted his Iron Man technology for their own motives.

"So Rhodey, you're a fan of the suits then?" Tony abruptly asked.

The odd question made Rhodey stumble over his words nervously. "I-I, well..."

He finally admitted, "Okay, fine. I love those things. And honestly, I did want to take one. But I'm not like those Defense cronies, you know that."

Tony and Yinsen exchanged amused looks at Rhodey's flustered sincerity. 

"The bottom line is they want the tech, and will only accept you on a biological leash," Yinsen surmised. "Give Colonel Rhodes one suit officially. That dispels the military's concerns while preventing misuse of the rest."

Tony nodded along. Before Rhodey could react, he stood and said, "Great idea, let's head down to the armory and pick one out." 

Rhodey jumped up quickly. "No need, I've seen them before. I'll just take..." 

He trailed off uncertainly.

Ten minutes later, the silver Mark II blasted upward from Tony's mansion, Rhodey at the controls.

"I thought he'd ask for the custom ones. Doubting my taste?" Tony grumbled to Yinsen.

Yinsen just smiled. "So which suit did you plan to give him?"

Caught, Tony huffed, "Why would I give him any?" 

He quickly justified, "I just want the DoD off my back. You know I hate unnecessary hassles."

Yinsen simply watched Tony's denial quietly, knowing he had already prepared contingencies for after his death. One was bequeathing the Iron Man mantle through the suits. Tony had pre-entered Rhodey's biometrics into J.A.R.V.I.S. otherwise he could never have flown off so readily in the Mark II.

Flustered by Yinsen seeing through him, Tony deflected, "Yinsen, you said I'll be called Iron Man in the future right? What will Rhodey's title be then?"

After pondering a moment Yinsen suggested, "Perhaps War Machine? Or Iron Patriot..." 

"It just sounds like you're ripping my name off," Tony complained.

Before Yinsen could respond, the main door burst open as Pepper rushed in, trailed protectively by Happy and Natasha. 

Seeing Pepper's hurried state, Tony joked, "What's got you so frantic? Company trouble?"

With the new element synthesized, Tony felt a weight lifted. He could finally interact with Pepper unburdened. He wanted to spend more time together now.

Seeing Tony's relaxed demeanor, Pepper shook her head in exasperation. "Do you ever check your phone? Chief George has been trying to reach you."

"Absolutely not, I'd never ignore your calls," Tony countered. "J.A.R.V.I.S., did Miss Potts ring me today?"

"No sir," the AI responded. 

"See, you didn't even call me," Tony pointed out triumphantly. 

"It's Chief George I meant," Pepper clarified in annoyance. "He couldn't get you so contacted me instead since I was nearby. Ivan Vanko escaped from prison!"

Hearing the news, Tony frowned deeply. "How did that happen?"

Pepper just shook her head, though Natasha likely knew the full story. Either way, Tony could investigate himself if inclined. 

Seeing Pepper's concern, Tony reassured her, "Don't worry, I'll handle this. Trust me."

Pepper couldn't help worrying though, remembering Vanko's wanton destruction at Stark Industries. Ever since donning the suit, Tony's life had grown perilous. 

She desperately wanted to plead with him to stop being Iron Man. But knowing his stubborn temperament, her words would make no difference. In the end her anxiety came out simply as, "Just please be careful."

The two embraced tenderly, heedless of their audience. 

Behind them, Natasha subtly inspected Tony's neck. His palladium poisoning appeared mildly improved. "Could Howard's legacy really provide a new energy source for Tony's sustained survival?" she wondered.

Nearby, Happy sidled up next to her. "No need to goggle, Tony doesn't care about stuff like that nowadays. Not like I'd mind the attention though..."

Natasha ignored his transparent attempt at flirtation. 

"Happy, escort Miss Potts back for now please," Tony requested, breaking their embrace. He knew Vanko targeted him specifically. Keeping Pepper nearby was risky.

"Glad to be of service!" Happy responded jovially, leading Pepper and Natasha out. 

Once they departed, Tony asked Yinsen, "What do you make of Vanko's convenient prison escape?" 

Yinsen considered briefly. "Chief George is undoubtedly competent, so Vanko must have inside help. Finding clues to how he slipped away won't be easy." 

Tony concurred. "Breaking out a convict takes major resources. Someone powerful is backing him." 

"J.A.R.V.I.S....any large money transfers on the police's end recently?" Tony queried.

"Scanning now sir," J.A.R.V.I.S. acknowledged. 

Tony picked up a glass of green juice from the table, musing idly, "I imagine Chief George is quite livid presently."

Yinsen smiled. "Undoubtedly. This is a stain on his sterling record." 

Inside the New York Police Station

A loud bang resounded as George angrily smashed his desk. He glowered at the gathered subordinates.

"A prisoner escaped under your watch, and now even the security feed is corrupted? Explain why the footage cut out right then!" he demanded furiously. 

George grabbed the deputy director's collar, spraying him with spittle. The man didn't know whether the moisture on his face was nervous sweat or flying saliva. The other low rank staff kept their heads down, not daring to approach the chief's fury.

The more George thought on it, the angrier he grew. He itched to pound them all. Never had such incompetence occurred on his watch before. It was an indelible smear on his honored career!

The deputy director stayed mute, not even lifting his head, fearing George might discern something condemnatory in his expression. 

At that moment, a gentle knock sounded at the door. When George whirled angrily to snap at the interruption, he saw it was the doctor he had called in. He quickly suppressed his temper. 

"Doctor Anna, what's the prognosis on our guest down there?" 

The shapely female doctor smiled amiably despite her ill-fitting coat. "Please Chief, calling me Doctor seems so formal. Anna is fine." 

Mindful of his subordinates, George simply asked brusquely, "Well, what's his status then?"

Anna's expression became serious. "It's not looking good. I suggest you come review him directly." 

George's anger abated slightly, replaced by curiosity. "Oh? That bad?"

To be continued...