Latveria.
Nick Fury.
The Admiral's Bridge on the SHIELD Helicarrier housed, behind the smoking ruins of Doom's missile to the computers, a smaller personal command bridge Fury used only in extreme duress. The room contained a single humidor on a stand—long since blown over by the missile's impact, its contents lost to battle—and a lone Kaypro, property of Nick Fury. He had taken the time to reprogram the dinosaur and give it updated procedures. Procedures which included wireless dedications to every weapon aboard the Helicarrier.
Ben Grimm followed Iron Man and Reed Richards inside Fury's command.
"Geezalou, Fury," he exclaimed. "Y'afraid ta spend a li'l extra dough? I got more memory in my li'l finger'n that thing does!"
"Yes," Fury said. "And this one works fine."
As he slid behind a narrow console and winced at the pain in his leg, Fury figured this was as much duress as he could get. And he hoped the Security Council would understand the…damage to the Helicarrier.
"What are you doing?" Tony Stark's voice, scrambled through a vox digitizer in the Iron Man armor, was unusually inquisitive. Usually he just stormed in and took charge. Like a damn grunt, Fury thought.
"Getting the weapons back online in this heap," Fury said and gritted his teeth in lieu of a cigar. "Richards?"
Reed Richards stepped forward as Fury tapped furiously on the keyboard. Fury opened a pocket on his utility harness and pulled out a small grey remote with a single red button on it. Reed cocked his head at the sight. Whimsical.
Fury handed the remote to Richards and went back to typing.
"What's this?" Reed asked and felt slightly naked at not knowing the answer.
"I call it an Omni-Controller, and I've just programmed in the deck gun override."
"From a computer older'n Matchstick here?" Ben was still aghast.
Johnny interrupted with a high-pitched, "Hey!"
Fury said, "Kaypro was a last resort, Ben; the only technology Doom wouldn't think to sabotage. Now, Reed, in one minute you'll have full run of the SHIELD arsenal. And you're gonna use it to blow the good doctor outta the sky."
Namor and Doctor Doom.
Namor got to one knee. Stood and trembled in place. He was losing blood fast. Still, he lifted into the air and landed on Doom's carrier deck slowly. He let out a long sigh and his dying eyes rested on Doom's.
Doom said hatefully, "You still fight?!" He raised his arm and fired one gauntlet repulsor. Maximum firepower.
Namor's vision blurred as the beam slammed into his chest and vaporized what was left of the bolero. He didn't even feel the pain when Doom threw an electrified gauntlet across his face and broke his nose. And despite his broken hands—carpals and metacarpals and digits twisted out of place, snapped and pained by Doom's savagery—Namor closed them into fists as much as he could and started hitting. Each blow hurt more. And he kept going. Kept battering at Doom's impenetrable armor.
Doom caught one broken fist and kicked Namor away. The Lord of Latveria took the respite to check his armor systems. As Namor regained composure, he saw the SHIELD Helicarrier pulling away.
And Reed Richards standing on the bow, saluting him.
Their eyes met in mutual respect. Namor swore he heard Richards say, "thank you" through forlorn eyes and a drawn expression. Namor smiled weakly and raised his hand in acknowledgement.
The Lord of Latveria looked at the SHIELD carrier just in time to see a massive weapon underneath the armor plating on the port side. An energy weapon of some kind, Doom's technician mind told him. Not merely a weapon. A gun.A cannon
Under the cold steel faceplate, Doom's eyes grew wide as he saw Richards on the flight deck. Richards' blue-gloved hand pressed a button on a remote control, and Doom heard the weapon powering to life.
Doom screamed under the faceplate.
In his frustration, he blew Namor down through the flight deck. Down twenty-seven floors to barracks housing unactivated Doombots. Doom jumped in the smoking crater and hoisted the King of Atlantis. The Lord of Latveria was caught by complete surprise when Namor started hitting him again.
On the SHIELD carrier, the cannon fired a brilliant emerald beam directly into the heart of Doom's carrier.
The beam pierced the armor plating expertly and blew a hole in the hull, throwing fire and debris through the carrier body and out the far side. The armor shuddered and groaned, coping with the sudden change in mass. Entire structures and turbines had been suddenly vaporized, compromising structural integrity. The carrier's power winked off, on, and then finally died. The weapon struck true, Richards had to admit, and Nick's technological antiquity proved useful after all. Right into the power core.
Doom's carrier listed heavily to port and smoke billowed from its charred innards. Very soon fire would engulf the carrier and it would crash into the furrowed countryside of rural Latveria.
The barracks bore the evidence of the SHIELD weapon's destructive nature. Sparks issued from all places, and Doom and Namor still traded blows amidst the epileptic chaos. Doom's customary green hood was scorched and torn, and barely hung on his armored head. His tunic bore a large gash across the chest; his cape was frayed into narrow ribbons and black burn mark striated the cloth. The gauntlets were covered in Namor's blood. Doom's legs ached—a falling steel I-beam had clipped his right leg at the knee and damaged the circuit motivators.
Namor formed his broken hands into one club and brought it down on Doom's shoulder. The Lord of Latveria stumbled to one side, grunted in pain, and backhanded Namor away from him.
Doom felt the lurching, and leaned the opposite way to stay upright. Namor stood and lunged drunkenly at Doom. The Lord of Latveria caught Namor in his arms and pulled him upright sympathetically. The eyes stared into Namor's own, probing, silently comprehending. The King of Atlantis held his ground, and spit blood on the steel faceplate. His eyes were deep and cunning; his brows stretched high and thin over a prominent Atlantean skull.
"This world is not yours to conquer."
The eyes narrowed. "How wrong you are." The Lord of Latveria pressed a thin panel on his gauntlet. And met Namor's aggression with aggression.
The Fantastic Four.
Johnny, Ben and Sue joined Reed on the SHIELD carrier's flight deck. Iron Man lowered to the deck on his boot repulsors, carrying Captain America in one hand and Hawkeye in the other. Hank Pym resumed his normal size and flanked Hawkeye.
They all stood in silence, watching with close and dedicated eyes as an oval of brilliant cerulean flashed to life and engulfed Doom's dying Helicarrier. Smoke issued from the blackened hole in the hull, flames gasped for air behind the armor plating.
Fury wiped sweat and soot from his brow. Lighted a cigar and watched Doom's carrier list toward the energy gate.
The gateway enveloped the carrier, and shut in on itself with a low electric sizzle, leaving nothing.
"Gone," Susan said.
"Yes," Reed said and thought about it for a moment. "Victor's last gambit was to remove himself from the board completely. How perceptive."
"Question." Ben said. "I thought he wanted the Infinity Formula. Think he dropped the ball on that one.
"Yes," Reed said and sounded sad about it. "He overplayed his hand. Like he always did."
Sue looked at the sunset thoughtfully. "So he retreated to the Negative Zone."
"Yes," Reed said. "His Doombot army failed, but he still wanted Namor to himself. Away from my prying eyes."
Johnny said darkly, "He always thought you were after him, Reed. Like you even gave a rat's ass about him." Johnny had to roll his eyes at that.
"I did," Reed said distantly. "In another life."
After a moment Sue said, "We're gonna have to find them someday."
Reed's brow furrowed. "You're right. Namor sacrificed himself so we could get away. The least I can do is bring him back."
Sue raised an eyebrow and smiled thinly. Her lipstick still shone bright ruby. "The least we can do," she corrected. And put her hand forward.
Johnny was quick to join, laying one firm hand on top of his sister's. "Yep," he smiled. "And in the meantime, may I suggest we shut down our own Negative Zone gateway once we get home? I don't care to have an all-homicidal Doom threatening me while I'm in the shower."
Ben put his hand on top of Johnny's. "'Nuff said."
Reed turned and smiled. Laid his hand on top of Ben's rocky paw. "Agreed."
Avengers Mansion.
Captain America.
The SHIELD carrier made it Rammstein Air Force Base in Germany. There it entered dry-dock and underwent copious repairs. Tony summoned a Quinjet, and the four of us were back in New York before the hour turned.
On the way, I had a nice long chat with Reed about what had happened.
"I can't thank you enough for coming to our aid, Steve," Reed had said. "You saved the day."
"Namor did," I said. "He…would've been a real asset to the team."
"If he could ever get past his anger," Reed said. "I think he will someday. And maybe Victor as well."
I thought about it. "It's an encouraging thought. And I suppose Victor's out of your hair for at least a little while longer."
"Yes," Reed said. "Maybe we've earned the respite. When they come back…I'll be prepared."
I nodded. "And the Avengers will, too."
The Baxter Building.
Two nights later.
Reed had taken Johnny's advice and disassembled the Baxter Building's only Negative Zone gateway and placed a scrambler on the Distortion Area generator. If Doom even thought about getting back through, Reed had reasoned, he'd find himself wanting. There was no way to successfully keep Victor in the Zone—not without sending a dampener or null-field generator through to constantly realign the Distortion Area. Short of building his own gateway, Doom had sent himself and Namor into a willing exile.
Locked in there, along with every other monster that fancied itself a conqueror.
He thought about Namor, and the sacrifice the Ruler of Atlantis had made to ensure the Helicarrier's survival. And how much more he respected Namor for the sacrifice. Reed exiled the last pieces of the gateway into a Moebius dimension he had designed in grad school. And as he disposed of one invention with another, he thought about Namor and the grand project that was Majora.
Namor had only given them life. Was that so troublesome?
No, he reminded himself. Life was the gift. To be used for the good of mankind.
Was that so troublesome?
Sue had put Franklin to bed, and now joined Reed in the lab.
"You're not going to yell at me for being in the lab again?" Reed asked.
"No. You do look tense, though." She started massaging his shoulders. "What's the matter?"
Without hesitation, Reed said, "I can't help thinking this was some kind of cheap thrill for Victor. Like he simply got bored one day and decided to kill millions of people. And if that's the case…maybe he's lost interest in me."
"Bigger fish to fry? I think not." Sue asked and raised an eyebrow. "Victor's hated you since day one, Reed. Anything else was just smoke and mirrors." She leaned down and kissed Reed lightly on the cheek. "We both know he'll be back. But we'll cross that bridge when we get there—we always have."
Reed smiled back. Maybe, he thought, after all these years things looked like they were finally calming down. And though Reed privately wondered how long the calm would last, he easily accepted it.
That night Reed Richards slept the sleep of kings. With his wife cradled in his arms. With his son safe asleep. Among friends.
Life was good.
Ben Grimm and the Human Torch.
On the roof of the Baxter Building, Ben Grimm leaned against the stone parapet and looked out at the starry Manhattan skyline.
Johnny Storm lowered to the deck behind him and flamed off. "Penny," he said.
Ben waited a moment. "It's quiet."
"That's a problem?"
"An observation. Y'think we dodged a bullet? With Doom?"
"A low-grade pissing contest between two professional pains in our ass? Benjy, I give you a resounding 'meh.'"
"Y'never worry about anything."
"You're worrying about everything," Johnny said and laid a hand on Ben's rocky shoulder. "One step at a time, I say. Show me Kang trying to conquer the Microverse, and I'll show you a fight that's over before dinner. Fighting the weird and wacky is what we do, Ben. That billboard out on Long Island says so."
"It does?"
"Yeah. 'The Fabulous Fantastic Four!' Sounds better than a Spider-Man voodoo doll, doesn't it?"
Ben smiled and laughed, slow and unctuous. "Y'think yer pretty funny don'tcha?"
"Always have," Johnny said.
Ben rolled his eyes. "Yeah yeah..."
"Speaking of, I've got a date. You might know her."
"Really?"
Johnny slapped Ben's back hard. "No." He stepped away quickly as Ben felt his back and ripped off the sheet of looseleaf.
The paper read: Kick Me, I'm Orangeish
Johnny erupted in a high pitched and amused giggle like the boy he professed himself to be. Then he flamed on and rocketed up into the sky, leaving Ben screaming after him.
"I know where you sleep, Johnny Storm!"
Johnny drew a beeline from the Baxter Building out to Liberty Island. He got in close and made a sharp upward shot for her head. Once he cleared the crown, he angled 45 degrees down. Then horizontal.
And circled the flaming '4' logo in a ring of fire.
A smile blazed across Johnny's face as he rocketed away from Liberty Island and out of New York. Behind him, the flaming 4 logo burned brightly for a moment, outshining the stars behind it. Ahead lay the Atlantic at night, a dark and swirling piece of living marble.
Life was good.
The End...