Civil War Prose Novel

by Stuart Moore

  “I have no intention of getting between him and Sue. He did insist on immunity for her and Johnny, as a condition for his continued assistance. That took some talking with the president, let me tell you.” He took Hank by the arm. “Enough of this. Come on—there’s somebody you should talk to.”

  He led Hank over to the recruits. Stature, formerly of the Young Avengers, stood with a green-skinned girl sporting a spiked Mohawk and a brawny, cocky-looking blond guy. Tony checked their IDs on his tablet: Komodo and Hardball.

  “Hank, I think you’ve met Cassie Lang.”

  Hank stared at Stature. “Of course. But the last time I saw you, you were…” He held his hand three feet off the ground.

  Stature smiled. She shot up, using her powers to rise up to eight feet in height. “Not anymore.”

  “Dr. Pym invented the size-changing serum you use, Cassie.” Tony watched as she shrank back down to normal size. “I think you could learn a lot from him.”

  “That’s why I’m here. To learn.”

  “See, Hank? Cassie’s late father was the second Ant-Man, and now she’s the heir to your serum. In a way, they’re like your children.”

  “You forgot one of my ‘children,’ Tony.” Hank turned away. “Bill Foster.”

  Stature shrank down to normal size, grimacing. Komodo and Hardball just watched.

  “Tony,” Hank continued, “can you just offer me this position? What about S.H.I.E.L.D.? Has Director Hill signed off on it?”

  “Don’t worry about Hill, Hank.” Tony shook his head. “She didn’t exactly distinguish herself with the Thunderbolts beta test.”

  Komodo stepped forward. “Is it true Spider-Man got away?”

  “Temporarily.”

  Stature looked worried. “What are you gonna do, Mister Stark? When you find Cap, and the others?”

  “Finding them isn’t the problem, Cassie. The point is to make them see reason. That’s what S.H.I.E.L.D. doesn’t understand.”

  A nervous, dark-haired girl approached the recruits. “Guys, guys, they want us to do drills in ten minutes. I don’t know if I’m ready.”

  Stature put a hand on her shoulder. “Be cool, Armory. It’ll be fine.”

  Armory held up her left arm. Alien weaponry covered it, flashing and humming with energy. “I don’t know if I can control my power.”

  “No, no. Stop!” A coach with a clipboard approached, pointing behind Tony. “I said sto—”

  Then something slammed into the group, scattering them. Tony stumbled and fell to the ground. He spat sand, brushed off his jacket, and climbed to his feet.

  A blur of motion sped away from them, too fast to see clearly. Hermes again, Tony realized. Then he heard a scream, and a crackling of energy.

  Armory had been flung ten feet away. She knelt down in the sand, cradling a bruised leg. Then she pointed her weapon-arm upward, and fiery alien energy flared out of it. A bolt flashed forth, arced over the yard past a construction site—

  —straight into the main admin building, punching a hole through the wall.

  The yard erupted in panic. Recruits scattered, running for cover. S.H.I.E.L.D. agents scrambled for their armor, dodging Armory’s wild, uncontrolled assault.

  “Armory!” the coach yelled.

  Tony crawled over to Hank Pym, who lay sprawled in the sand. Stature was just picking herself up, dazed.

  “Hank, I don’t have my gear with me. You have to solve this.”

  Hank stared at him. “I’m not a super hero anymore, Tony.”

  “No.” Tony pointed at Stature. “But she is.”

  “Me?”

  A bolt of energy slammed into the ground, three feet away.

  “Violet—Armory. She’s got this…bad panic reflex,” Stature said.

  “Cassie.” Hank ushered her back behind a maintenance truck. Tony followed them, watching carefully.

  “I need you to grow very large,” Hank continued. “Thirty feet or so.”

  She stared, shook her head. “My dad said never to grow that big.”

  “It’s—”

  “He said my spine would snap! Square-cube, something.”

  “The serum has a calcium booster—your bones can handle the strain for a few minutes. Not for long. But it’s our only hope right now.”

  She leaned around the edge of the truck. Tony looked, too: Armory was barely visible, lost in a haze of swirling sand and alien energy. Force-bolts continued to radiate out from her. One struck a Jeep, and it erupted in a fiery blast.

  Stature nodded. She squeezed her eyes shut and started to grow. Ten feet tall, then 12. When she reached 15, she stopped and looked down at Hank.

  He smiled. Nodded, gestured upward.

  She drew a deep breath and shot up.

  Hank pointed. “The new building!”

  Stature turned to look at the Combat Simulator building. It sat newly installed on its foundation, mortar still wet around the base. The construction workers had fled from the site, huddling behind Jeeps and steam shovels.

  Keeping one eye on Armory, Stature crossed the yard in two ground-shaking strides. She reached down and grasped hold of the entire Combat Simulator building, struggling to lift it.

  “Use your knees!” Hank yelled.

  With a crunch, the building came loose of its foundation. Stature lifted it to waist-level and tottered, nearly falling backward under the weight. She grimaced, shifted her burden, and grew one more foot taller.

  Then she turned toward Armory.

  The recruits had all run away now. S.H.I.E.L.D. agents held positions in copters and the remaining trucks. But S.H.I.E.L.D.’s authority, Tony knew, had been reduced following the Thunderbolts debacle. They were waiting for his signal, waiting to see what happened next.

  Armory spotted Stature looming above her, and screamed again. Her eyes glowed, her alien arm flashed wildly.

  “Violet,” Stature said. “It’s okay. It’s me, Cassie.”

  Armory’s eyes focused. The energy receded, just slightly, retreating to an area eight feet around her body.

  Stature saw her chance. Slowly, gently, she deposited the heavy building around Armory. The panicked girl looked up and around, but didn’t move. When Stature was done, the structure enclosed Armory completely, hiding her from view.

  “It’s okay,” Stature repeated. “You’re safe now.”

  She stepped back, eyeing the building nervously. Tony watched, expecting to see force bolts shatter its walls from inside. But nothing happened. The energy-crackle died down, quieted to a low hum.

  Tony led Hank out from behind the truck. All around, in the yard, little fires burned. Recruits crept sheepishly out of their hiding places; S.H.I.E.L.D. agents reached for fire extinguishers.

  Closing her eyes, Stature shrank back down to normal size. She walked up to the Simulator building, now awkwardly deposited at an angle in the middle of the yard. Almost comically, she knocked on its door.

  The door creaked open, catching briefly on a rock. Armory peeked out, her power-arm dormant now.

  “Sorry,” she said.

  Komodo and Hardball rushed to join Stature. Together, they helped Armory over to the main administration building.

  Hank frowned at Tony. “You still think this is a good idea?”

  Tony turned to him, stunned. “Are you kidding? This incident proves it. We just had a potentially deadly super-power outbreak, which was defused quickly with zero casualties. Imagine if that girl were untrained, and her panic attack had occurred within a city.”

  The coach approached, out of breath. “Sorry, Mister Stark. I just—you can’t exactly control a Greek god—”

  Hank stepped forward, a stern look on his face. “Where is Hermes now?”

  “Prob’ly halfway to Flagstaff.”

  “Hadn’t you better find him before he gets all the way there?”

  The coach turned to Tony, baffled.

  Tony smiled. “Take a S.H.I.E.L.D. regiment if you need one.”

  The
man nodded, hurried away.

  Tony turned to Hank, placed his hands on both his friend’s shoulders. “Now do you see why I need you here? Normal humans can run drills, keep records, evaluate performance charts. But I need someone with real powers experience running this place.”

  Hank nodded, slowly.

  “Thank you,” he said softly.

  Tony shook his head. “I should be thanking you.”

  They stood together, watching the S.H.I.E.L.D. teams douse the last remaining fires. Coaches lined up the recruits, counted heads, and barked out orders. An administrator stood arguing with the reluctant crane operator, pointing at the displaced Simulator building. Tony overheard the word “overtime” mentioned, more than once.

  “It’s all coming together, Hank.” Tony’s voice was low, thoughtful. “We should have done this years ago. Soon the world will be a better, safer place.”

  A better place, he thought. And yet, he couldn’t silence a small voice inside. A tiny regret in the scheme of things, but a failure that nagged at him nonetheless.

  If only Peter Parker were here, too.

  “PASSING level twenty-three.” The Punisher’s voice was low and gravelly, shot through with static. “Captain, I once broke into Rykers Island to take out a mob boss. But I’ve never seen security protocols like this.”

  Cap frowned, conscious of Cage, Falcon, and Tigra standing just behind him. They’d crowded into his new comm room, which had been outfitted with equipment from a decommissioned nuclear sub. Cap had called in a favor with a navy contact, who’d delivered the drab gray fixtures, old-style push-button consoles, and a bright red landline phone with a long spiral cord. The younger Resistance members had remodeled the framework, ripping out sonar displays and replacing them with brand-new flatscreens showing mission status, intelligence on the Initiative camps, and hacked Stark hero dossiers. An array of hard drives and a pair of Mac Pros linked the whole system together.

  Cap felt oddly at home here.

  “Punisher.” Cap leaned forward in his chair. “Describe what you see.”

  “I’m climbing up the maintenance shaft, through a constant stream of blue, semitransparent balloon-like objects. They’re just floating in the air, like bubbles in a stream.”

  “Those are artificial antigens.” Falcon leaned forward. “Sue Richards said Reed based the Baxter Building’s security on the human immune system, this month.”

  “Don’t even brush against any of those things,” Cap said. “You do, and the whole system will attack you as an invading organism.”

  Punisher laughed harshly. “Relax, Captain. Nothing can read me while I’m wearing the dampers. I’m invisible to all cameras, trip-beams, and overgrown T-cells.”

  Cage frowned. “Where the hell you lay your hands on that kind of hardware, Castle?”

  “Let’s just say Tony Stark’s warehouse manager should invest in better locks. And don’t worry, I swept everything for tracking devices.”

  Tigra shrugged at Cap, mock-impressed. Her furry arm rested lightly on his shoulder. Suddenly he was very aware of Tigra’s presence: her warmth, her curves, her wide cat eyes.

  “Passing level twenty-eight now,” Punisher said.

  “Keep me posted, soldier.”

  “Aye-aye, Captain.”

  Cage frowned. “Punisher’s a walking arsenal, Cap. Is Sue worried about him bein’ in that building with her kids?”

  “Reed sent the children away for a while. Thankfully.” Cap swivelled in his chair, turned to the others. “So where do we stand?”

  Falcon pointed to a screen showing a news report. “Johnny Storm’s team just foiled an invasion of Philadelphia by the Mole Man. Went off textbook perfect: They roped off the area, protecting the citizens. Then they met up unexpectedly with Doctor Strange, made a contact. I’m gonna follow that up right after this.”

  Cap zoomed in the screen, focusing on a red-caped man with a dark blue tunic, Fu Manchu mustache, and a high, majestic collar. “Strange is a powerful mystic. I think even Tony’s afraid of him.”

  “He’s also pretty reserved…no commitments yet. But with his help, our team got the job done fast. Knocked Moley back down to the lower level of Dirtville, and got the hell out of there before S.H.I.E.L.D. arrived.”

  Tigra frowned. “Doesn’t seem to have helped our poll numbers.”

  “This isn’t about polls, Greer.” Cap turned toward her, looked into her lovely green eyes. “And it’s not about one incident. We have to show the people we’re doing the right thing, every day.”

  She smiled. Cap turned away, suddenly uncomfortable.

  “How’s, uh, Spider-Man doing?” he asked.

  “Still groggy, but recovering fast,” Cage said. “Dude’s got an amazing constitution.”

  Cap nodded. “Don’t push him, but I need to talk to him as soon as he’s up and around. He’s the only person who’s been to that secret prison and came back on his own two feet. Speaking of which, what’s the status of those Negative Zone gateways?”

  Falcon typed in a sequence, and a United States map appeared on one of the screens. Red lights blinked over Chicago, Sacramento, Albuquerque, and just off the shore of New York City.

  “These portals are scheduled to go live over the next eight days.” He pointed to the offshore icon. “The Rykers Island one will be activated first, day after tomorrow.”

  “At that point, they’ll start moving all East Coast prisoners through there,” Cap said. “They’ll stop using the Baxter Building for transport. Our window of attack is closing fast.”

  “We could use some backup,” Tigra said. “Is that where you sent Sue Rrrrrichards?”

  “Yes.”

  Tigra looked at him, questions in her lovely eyes. But he said nothing else.

  “The Initiative camps are springing up fast too,” Falcon said. “Stark’s latest press release says forty-nine young heroes have signed up for training.”

  “Camps or jail.” Cap felt it again, the dark hard thing growing inside him. “Japanese-Americans were offered that choice, once. The Jews of Germany got both, wrapped up in one sadistic package.”

  Falcon and Cage exchanged troubled looks.

  “Uh, Cap…nobody likes bein’ locked up less than this ex-con right here.” Cage pointed a thumb at his own broad chest. “But you gotta admit there’s a difference between trainin’ camps and internment camps.”

  “Or concentration camps,” Falcon said.

  “There’s also a difference between living free, and being told what to do by an oppressive government. A government that maintains its power by scaring the hell out of its own people.”

  Tigra raised an eyebrow.

  “Stark Enterprises,” Cap continued, “has spent the past decade building a security state for the people of this country to live in. Did you really think they weren’t going to use it?”

  The speaker crackled. “Ahoy, Captain,” Punisher’s voice said. “I’m in their data center.”

  “Good.” Cap leaned forward again. “Now I need everything you can find on this big ‘Number 42’ complex, with special emphasis on the Negative Zone portal leading to it. Size, how much space there is to move around, how far the prison itself is from the portal entrance. What kind of guards it has, how the security works.” He paused. “Think you can handle that without shooting somebody in the head?”

  “Maybe. If nobody interrupts me. Be in touch soon.”

  Cage turned to leave. “I’ll check on Spidey.”

  “And I better look into this Doctor Strange thing.” Falcon moved to follow Cage, then turned back. He laid a hand on Cap’s shoulder.

  “Cap, you an’ me been through a lot. The Red Skull, the Kree invasion, the Secret Empire…”

  “Spit it out, Sam.”

  “I hope you know what you’re doing.”

  He walked away. Cap watched him go, then turned to stare at the U.S map for a long moment. He felt suddenly very tired.

  Then Tigra’s strong, soft hands w
ere massaging his shoulders. “Alone at last,” she said.

  “Greer…”

  “You’re incredibly tense, you know that?” She leaned over, made a purring noise in his ear. “Leads to bad decisions.”

  He turned to face her. Her lovely, sharp face was covered with soft, beautifully patterned fur; wet lips glistened below a tiny, catlike nose. Greer Nelson had once been an ordinary human woman, until a mystic ritual transformed her into the ultimate warrior of the Cat People. Her strength and agility were now much greater than a human’s. And so, Cap knew, were her passions.

  Cap had known men and women who hooked up casually, almost mindlessly, in wartime situations. Correspondents, civilian contractors, sometimes even soldiers. He’d never allowed himself the indulgence. But…

  “I heard from Hawkeye yesterday,” Tigra said.

  Cap blinked. “What?”

  “He’s doing well. They’re giving him a whole Initiative team to run. He wanted me to tell you.”

  Cap frowned, turned away.

  “Cap.” He turned; her tone of voice was different now, softer. “What’s the endgame here?”

  He pointed at a screen. “The prison—”

  “No no, I don’t mean that. I mean…ultimately, what are we trying to accomplish? Registration is the law. No matter what happens, they’re just going to hunt us forever, right?”

  “Laws can be overturned.” He straightened up, faced her directly. “If we can achieve a critical mass of superhumans working with us, solving problems and helping people all over the world, we can win out over the forces of fear. I believe that. I have to believe that.”

  A strange look crossed her face. “I guess you do,” she whispered.

  He leaned in to her, drawn by her scent. She hesitated, then moved to meet his lips.

  “Jackpot, Mon Capitan.”

  Cap sighed. Tigra laughed.

  “What have you got, Punisher?”

  “Specs, schematics, all kinds of plans. I’m transmitting ’em now.”

  “Good.” Cap grimaced. “Thank you.”

  “I don’t think you’re gonna like it. That place has more protection than any incarceration facility I’ve ever seen. It’s gonna take a lot more than your team of grunts to get in there.”