"Janet!"

His relieved voice crackled through the speaker that was pressed to her ear, her tired gaze roaming over the city as sunlight streamed through the windows of her office.

"Norman, the intruder has been dealt with. I don't think he'll be bothering us again. Repairs are being made as we speak, but as you might assume, regular operations have been suspended for the time being."

"You survived a dangerous encounter. More than that—you were able to defeat a worthy opponent. I'm proud of you, Janet, and I am forever in your debt."

"Nonsense, sir. I was just doing my job."

He chuckled. "Well, now that this crisis has been averted, Jack and I will return to Oscorp shortly. I have a surprise for you, one that I'm sure you will find very fascinating."

Something in his tone caused an uneasy stirring in the pit of her stomach, but she forced a facade of cheer. "I…can't wait to see it."

"Miss Carlisle."

She turned and saw her assistant standing in the open doorway, his eyes even rounder than usual.

"Excuse me, Norman."

"Of course. I'm sure you have important matters to attend to."

Janet ended the call and lowered the cellphone to her side. "What is it, Lucas?"

"There's uh—" He cleared his throat nervously. "There's someone here to see you."

Her brow furrowed. "I have no appointments."

"He, um… He claims he doesn't need one."

She took a step toward him, her mouth hardening into a stern line. "Who is he?"

At that moment, a man in a dark suit nudged his way past Lucas and strode into the room like he owned the place. Whipping off his Police sunglasses as if he had been waiting for just the right moment to do it, he greeted her with a winning smile and a twinkle in his eye.

It was Tony Stark.

Janet's lips parted in surprise. What was he doing here?

"Miss Carlisle. It truly is a pleasure to see you again."

"Mr. Stark," she returned uncertainly. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

He tapped the tented lenses against his open palm, observing her with calculating precision. "Heard that you had a break-in. Wanted to see the extent of the damage for myself and…offer a helping hand if needed."

"Your concern is appreciated, but the damage is not nearly as extensive as the media would have you believe."

"Not to your state of the art facilities—no. But a lot of people died last night. You have my condolences."

His voice had lowered and become bitingly sarcastic. Janet crossed her arms over her chest, her eyes narrowing.

"Strange. You say that but…I don't think that's why you're here."

Stark rewarded her with a smirk and a nod. "You're right. It's not. I guess congratulations are in order."

"For?"

"For making it to the top rung. I've gotta say though, I always thought Norman was more of a science guy."

She stared at him, her jaw clenching. It seemed he had his own sources inside the military.

"But I understand," he went on, shoving both hands into his pockets. "War makes money. You provide the weapons. You get rich."

"Did you come here to lecture me, Stark?"

"No. I came here to warn you. I was in that business once. I know what it does to people."

"Then once again, I would thank you," Janet responded tightly, "but our business is no concern of—"

"Let me rephrase that," he interjected, raising a hand. He regarded her coolly, his dark eyes flashing. "I know that you and your boss and your brother are elbow deep in a lot of things you'd rather the public not find out about. And I know how far you're willing to go to cover up your dirty little fingerprints, so I'm going to ask you one simple question. Cassie Powell—what did you do to her?"

She blinked, her brows knitting in confusion. "Excuse me?"

Stark stepped closer, his voice becoming scarcely more than a whisper. "Did you abduct her? Torture her? Or did you snuff her out because she knew too much?"

"I have no idea what you're talking about," Janet insisted, "but you would be wise to investigate matters more thoroughly before hurling accusations at someone like me."

"Are you threatening me, Miss Carlisle?"

"You're a powerful man, Mr. Stark, but you're far from invincible. You have blood on your hands just like the rest of us. So you'd better step carefully, because you're one bad day away from a penitentiary."

He pressed his lips into a hard line, his burning gaze challenging her. But she refused to back down, and finally, he appeared to come to a decision. With a resigned nod, Stark took a step back, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Well, I'm glad we had this little chat. I already had my opinions about Oscorp, but thank you for confirming them." Pushing his sunglasses back onto his face, he smiled, but it was a mirthless gesture. "See you around."

And with that, he turned sharply on his heel and headed for the exit, which had been shut behind Lucas when he anxiously excused himself from the unscheduled appointment. Now, Janet's glaring eyes followed Stark's retreating back until he disappeared from view, leaving the door to her office standing wide open.

Why had he questioned her about Cassie? Clearly, she had gone missing, but what made him think that she or Oscorp had anything to do with it? To brazenly walk into her office and accuse her directly—the nerve of that man!

Janet's hands balled into fists, but her blazing fury was instantly snuffed out when she remembered Stephen. Did he know about her disappearance? If he didn't, he needed to be told. But that unpleasant phone call would have to wait. Jack and Norman would be arriving soon, and she needed to ensure that all of the necessary preparations were made.

AAAAAAAAAA

Janet stood alone and in silence, watching as the floor numbers steadily counted down. She had intended to meet them in the hangar, but Norman had requested otherwise. So instead, she was making the long descent to the basement levels, a highly restricted area beneath the tower. This was where Oscorp's most secret experiments were carried out. It was a lab, but it was also a prison, a place where covert operations that fell into the "illegal" category could proceed without interruption.

Sometimes they held people here against their will. Political and social rivals, inhumans that would serve as test subjects. For years, Janet had attempted to ease her conscience by telling herself that all of it was being done in the name of science, that they were working toward a greater goal whose stakes eclipsed individuals' rights.

But now she saw Norman straying from the creed he had always claimed to uphold. He wasn't brokering peace—he was facilitating war. And he was not sharing their knowledge with the rest of the world—he was hoarding it in his ivory tower. When the powers of the terrigen crystals had been forced upon her, he had viewed the incident as yet another advantage in his struggle against S.H.I.E.L.D. And because of that, Jack had envied her new abilities and submitted to the transformation willingly.

Now they were both weapons to be deployed at Norman's leisure, and she was beginning to wonder if he viewed them as anything more than that. Once, she had truly believed that he cared for them and wanted what was best for them. But doubt was creeping in, causing her to question what was truth and what was lies. After all, he had not hesitated when he left her to face the Ghost Rider alone.

The elevator came to a stop, and the doors dinged open. Janet inhaled sharply, the cold, sterile air stinging her nostrils. Beyond was a dimly lit corridor with concrete floors and sickly green lights lining the walls. Not a soul stirred as she exited the elevator and started walking. Each step she took echoed, her long black coat flapping behind her.

She had no idea what sort of surprise Norman had in store for her, and the prospect of the unknown made her uneasy. Ever since she had delivered the Darkhold into his hands, he had not been the same, and the sudden changes in his behavior reminded her of the warnings Stephen and Wong had given her about the dangers of such an ancient and mysterious book. She remembered well its seductive call, its whispers of unlimited power and complete control. Perhaps the labyrinth of arcane knowledge contained within was proving too much for Norman to handle.

She passed by many rooms filled with grim-faced technicians who peered at her through glass windows. The distant humming and hissing of machines drew unwanted memories to the surface, and Janet fought to stifle them. She increased her pace, her breaths coming more quickly. Her heart was pounding. Sweat beaded on her temple.

Finally, she rounded a corner and saw a familiar silhouette lingering near an open doorway. Relief flooded through her, and she grinned.

"Jack!"

He turned. "Janet, you're just in time."

"For what?"

He nodded toward the small room on her right, and she followed his gaze. Her smile vanished in an instant.

"Janet! Come in," Norman urged in a voice so abnormally cheerful that it sent a chill down her spine.

She blinked and looked back at her brother.

"Go ahead," he told her quietly. "This is what you've been waiting for, isn't it? Revenge?"

She swallowed. Her tongue had turned to lead. Slowly, reluctantly, she entered the room. A large, metallic chair was inclined at a forty-five degree angle, and Cassie Powell was bound to it. Her eyes immediately found Janet's, and she felt a sudden pang of guilt stab through her chest.

"I thought it was about time that we recruited some new assets," Norman explained. "People who could be useful to us as Oscorp continues to grow and expand its influence."

"Norman, she's unpredictable," Janet protested as calmly and evenly as she could manage. "She's a liability. You said so yourself."

"Plans change. S.H.I.E.L.D. is gone. The Avengers are divided and leaderless. The time has come for a new entity to fill the power vacuum left in the wake of these disastrous attempts to protect humanity."

Her mind was racing, her stomach turning. Stark was right. They had taken Cassie, and she had unknowingly lied directly to his face.

"But before we offer Miss Powell the opportunity to take part in such life-changing exploits, I wanted to let you have this, Janet. She is Strange's apprentice, after all, and I would assume that he cares for her very deeply. So what better way is there to strike back at him? To make him hurt for all of the pain that he's caused you?"

She stared at him, horrified. This was her gift? This was what he wanted her to do?

"Take as long as you like," said Norman, laying his hand on her shoulder. "Just don't break any bones. We need her in one piece."

Without another word, he walked past her and out of the room. Jack winked at her, and then he closed the door with a dull, metallic clang. Now it was just the two of them, alone in a green windowless room deep within the bowels Oscorp. Janet's head hung for a moment, her eyes screwed shut, but then she opened them and glanced up. A camera was installed in the upper left corner of the room, its pinprick of red light capturing her every move.

But when her gaze returned to Cassie, a lump formed in her throat, her hands balling into fists at her sides. She couldn't do it. Norman was right—Stephen had done everything in his power to protect Cassie. How could she harm her?

And yet, if she refused, Norman would know that she was going soft. He would realize that her feelings for Stephen had resurfaced and had compromised her loyalty to him. If she couldn't bring herself to take out her anger on someone she didn't even know, what use would she be to him? She would be a failure in his eyes. And what would happen then?

Janet clenched her jaw, her entire body trembling, her indecision tearing her apart. What should she do? What could she do?