Disclaimer: I don't own the Fantastic Four—Marvel Comics, Stan Lee, 20th Century Fox, and probably a bunch of other people do. However, if the aforementioned parties feel like loaning out the guys, put me at the top of the borrower's list. Also, I'm not making a penny off of this. I am banned from reading other F4 fan fictions until this is finished, so any similarities to other stories are entirely coincidental. Typos are mine. If you haven't done so, you really need to read 'Oxygen' before this story.
3
"He still hesitates to kill, even though I gave him explicit instructions to do so. I thought the post-hypnotic commands were supposed to make him obey me without question, Dr. Sater?"
Eleanora Sater sighed---ever so quietly, less the steel figure pacing around her laboratory interpret it as a sign of insolence. Some days, Nora truly and whole-heartedly revered the man who had been Victor Von Doom. Thousands of Latverians---herself included---owed their very existence to the man and to his father. Nora's mother had been saved from a raging fever by the elder Von Doom, and Nora owed her opportunity to leave the backwoods villages of Latveria to attend college in the United States (at age thirty-two no less) to Victor's humanitarian and educational aid programs, funded by the small corporations he'd set up in Latveria before heading to the United States. The companies in Latveria brought work and money to the impoverished regions like Chendryn for many years. Now, they gave her unlimited financial support for her research.
Provided that her research focused on areas selected by Victor Von Doom.
Still, there were as many days that Nora feared him. She was a psychiatrist, well versed in medicine, but it didn't take a doctor to know that the man now called 'Doom' was dangerous. Dangerous, unpredictable, keenly intelligent, and psychopathic would have been her evaluation. These traits made an unstable mixture that might explode one day and destroy not only Von Doom but also all those around and allied with him as well.
Nora wondered, on days when her fear outweighed her admiration, if her own grasp on sanity had slipped away without her being aware of it. She shouldn't be there, under Doom's thumb, under his control, putting her work at his disposal. It was foolish. It was madness. Yet, the fear was never strong enough to compel her to leave. Latveria needed the help Von Doom had to offer. So, for the sake of her country, loyalty and gratitude won out and she stayed in the palace that was now Doom's base of operations in Latveria and did whatever was asked of her.
If Doom hadn't insisted on using a hurriedly rigged chamber and compressing her program into a shorter cycle than she'd intended, had let her simply bring Johnny Storm to Latveria for a proper session in the first place, the programming would have been perfect and the supplemental sessions would have been unnecessary. She's tried explaining that to Von Doom---along with the fact that outside voices intruding into the session and fabricating memories to account for missing time tended to destabilize the program---but he had insisted that Johnny's 'conversion' be witnessed by his family and the rest of the world. Doom wanted his enemies to suffer for their previous betrayals.
Sater, naturally, took the blame when the programming flaws she'd warned about manifested.
"I could have activated the command for unquestioning obedience into Mr. Storm, but it was your instruction that our test subjects be more than mindless automatons, yes? To preserve basic personality traits? To plant false memories, alter his core ethics, retrain him to despise this 'Fantastic Four', and make him accept you as a mentor?" Nora reminded Doom.
The latter had been simple to accomplish---a matter of reviewing the Storm family history, use the post-hypnotic commands to heighten the son's feelings of abandonment after the loss of the parents, and exploiting the natural need for a surrogate (especially a paternal) parental figure. All she needed to do was retrain the boy to view Doctor Doom in that capacity.
However, there were many things her Compressed Hypnotics Behavioral Reconditioning Program was not meant to do and making slaves of unsuspecting souls topped the list. It was intended for use in helping people whose minds—by chemical imbalance, injury, or birth defect---had betrayed them into behaviors that made them a public danger: Sexual predators. Violent criminals. Murderers. She took a covert look at Doctor Doom. He'd have been a perfect test subject. Instead, he controlled all applications of the program. "The only command you wished implanted into Mr. Storm with regards to killing was the command to kill the Fantastic Four---and he will kill them on sight. I guarantee that."
Doom chuckled, not a pleasant sound coming from him. "That much I noticed when he left the Baxter Building. Don't be so defensive, Doctor. So far, I'm impressed with what you've accomplished with Storm. You've even convinced Johnny that leaving the Troublesome Trio and joining his former archenemy was completely his own idea. He hasn't even attempted to contact them in the past five days."
Victor controlled every means of communication in the Chendryn province---easy to do when the only phones (cellular, satellite or otherwise), television, or Internet access to be found in the region were in his palace or the hideaways of Kubeka's men. There was no chance of Storm's family making contact with him…all the better to convince him that they'd accepted his 'resignation', and Nora's post-hypnotic commands would prevent him for so much as considering flying away or communicating through other means. Under Victor's censorship, all Johnny saw were the television reports and stray Internet postings denouncing him as a 'renegade'.
"The possible applications for the technology you've created are---"
"Terrifying?" The word slipped out before Nora could prevent it.
Fortunately, Doctor Doom was caught up in his own self-congratulatory monologue. "---Astonishing. Limitless." Seeing that the psychiatrist did not share his zeal, Doom stopped his pacing and became serious. "I still need to know that Johnny Storm's 'retuned' opinion of his family is solid. I'm sending him to retrieve property of mine from Selva-Uitti in the morning and interference from the Troublesome Trio is unavoidable. So, before the family comes searching for baby brother, I want you to evaluate him one more time and be sure I have his undivided loyalty. I can't afford mistakes. Without Storm's cooperation, we can forget the plans I made for Latveria's future." Doom stared at the woman.
Nora did not miss the veiled threat beneath his words. She squirmed a bit on her chair but met Doom's unyielding stare. It angered her that, after compliance to his every request with this project, that he would still threaten her. She had learned that Doom was more than willing to repay failure and disloyalty by punishing not only the offender but also those whom the perpetrator loved and cherished. It was an effective method of guaranteeing obedience from his 'employees', and it again caused fear to war with admiration within Nora. She didn't have family left to hurt, but she had Latveria.
Her cooperation with Doom always stemmed from the faith that the humanitarian who loved Latveria still existed beneath that steel creature he'd become, and that Victor would fulfill his promises to bring more food, security, sanitation, electricity---life and hope---to the land that was Nora's home.
She glanced through the window at the ice-covered lake, which backed up to the cliffs upon which the palace stood, and the titanium dome that had been erected along the mountains near Doom's palace, the dome that represented Latveria's hope and life. It was the power plant that Victor Von Doom was constructing to finally bring electricity into this province, the first of many improvements promised to her people…so long as they stayed in Von Doom's good graces. It didn't matter if the purchase price was Nora's soul, she would do her part to make those promises come to fruition. She would not give him any reason to withhold his favors from her people.
"Do not concern yourself with the Americans. If, by chance, they do remove Mr. Storm from our keeping, he's been programmed to escape and return to Latveria---with deadly force if necessary--- or to die trying," Nora promised.
The figure standing at the other end of her desk almost seemed amused by that notion. "Let's hope it doesn't come to that---it would be unfortunate if Johnny Storm were to die before he's done his part for our plans." Doom took a seat across from her and leaned back, folding his hands in front of him in a contemplative posture that indicated he was back in 'businessman' mode…a more stable frame of mind approaching, but not quite reaching, sanity. Nora relaxed a bit. She could deal with him much better when he was in this mood. "When will you try?"
Doom drummed his fingers, reviewing all possible scenarios in his mind. He was acutely aware that time was not on his side---not where the Troublesome Trio was concerned. Five days had elapsed since Doom abducted their youngest member, far more time than he would have thought would pass without a rescue attempt. That meant that Richards was mired in trying to figure out what Nora's box had done to Johnny Storm and how to undo the damage.
Richards was too smart to blunder in blindly. He would guess (correctly) that Victor hadn't gone to the trouble of brainwashing Johnny just to kill him immediately. Knowing that, Richards would wait until he was sure he had the way to counter-program Johnny, and then he would act. Johnny would resist, and Doom would act on behalf of his new protégé, but the outcome of the confrontation was far from certain. If the Troublesome Trio were beaten back, they would return again and again until they retrieved Johnny or were killed in the attempt. The latter outcome was, naturally, the most appealing to Doom.
All things considered, it would be better if Doom got what he needed from the Human Torch's powers before his family interfered.
What Doom needed was the Torch's supernova powers. The means for its acquisition presented the possibility---a very strong possibility---that the young man would be killed due to heat expenditure and/or strain on his body. Doom had no real disdain for Johnny Storm. He was by far the least objectionable of the Fantastic Four, and Doom hadn't lied when he'd said that he noted some of his own better qualities in the boy. Their past differences of opinions aside, Storm was a useful employee now that Dr. Sater had given him a 'personality refinement'.
However, Doom was prepared to sacrifice the young man as a means to an end…for the good of Latveria, and especially for Doom's own advantage. Emotions could not get in the way of what had to be done. Logic must prevail. Rationally, if Johnny died in the course of helping Doom, his permanent absence wouldn't hamper Victor in the least…but it would cripple and devastate the Fantastic Four. Doom would benefit, and Latveria would become a world power. Millions of lives versus one? You didn't need logic to know which course to choose.
If Johnny should survive, and Dr. Sater's program worked as it should, Doom would have a strong ally and Johnny would be the right hand of the most powerful man in the world. That was also acceptable and justified the risk to the boy.
If Johnny survived and the Troublesome Trio somehow countered Dr. Sater's programming, Johnny had learned new uses for his powers under Doom's tutelage in the past five days, powers that he could use in future battles. That was ample payment for his service to Latveria and again justified the risk as far as Doom was concerned.
Yes, Doom could place the boy in harm's way with a clean conscience---if he allowed himself the weakness of having a conscience, that is.
"After Johnny retrieves my property, when the technicians have everything in place, if all goes well, my protégé will lend his considerable powers to the advancement and improvement of Latveria," Doom answered. "And you, Dr. Sater, will be able to say that you had a hand in making Latveria into a world power. How many psychiatrists can say their inventions helped shift the balance of power in the world?"
There was a spark of doubt in the woman's eyes in reaction to Doom's words. Although Victor chose to ignore it for the time being, it still rankled him. Doubt was dangerous. Doubt was weakness. Doubt lead to betrayal. Yes, he would have to keep an eye on Dr. Sater, just to be sure her dedication to their mutual objective hadn't been tainted by weakness of conviction now that there was the possibility of bloodshed.
Doom stood, and Nora cringed inwardly until she saw that there was nothing threatening in his posture. In fact, his tone was almost kind. "I'll let you get back to your work, Doctor. I'll even provide you with a few new lab rats to use in refining your program."
Doom pressed a button on his wrist communicator, and the door to Nora's lab opened to reveal his ever-present assistant Leonard and two of Doom's hired soldiers. Doom's men carried two of Kubeka's guerrillas over their shoulders and dumped the murderous pigs onto her floor. The figures in paramilitary fatigues were immobile---and not just because of the shackles on their arms and legs. Their lips were tinted blue and their skin was so pale that Nora knew if she touched them it would be cold as ice. Their faces had literally frozen in expressions of astonishment and fear. This was the only time Nora recalled feeling any inkling of pity for these killers, and she dismissed the sympathy at once. They deserved far worse than this.
"Once you have them under your control, there are some questions I want them to answer---the name of their friends in the Latverian government, and the location where the rest of their army is hiding," Doom instructed her.
"My God, what happened to them?" she couldn't help asking. Severe hypothermia seemed the obvious diagnosis, but how had they gotten into this condition?
Doom gloated a bit. "A little trick I taught my protégé."
Johnny Storm had done this? Nora gaped. Doom was right—the boy was more powerful than he appeared.
"It's a shame Johnny probably won't survive our plans---he definitely has potential," was all Doom had to say. With that, he strode out of the laboratory, Leonard on his heels, and left Nora wondering again if she'd made a wise choice allying herself with the humanitarian-turned-madman.
A tunnel cut through the mountains connected the half-finished power plant to Victor Von Doom's palatial compound. At the center of the power station sat a titanium dome that resembled an overturned salad bowl that had fallen out of the sky and landed among the thick forests of Chendryn. At least, that's what it reminded Johnny of.
Victor had asked him to wait inside that dome, but the place was giving the Human Torch a major case of the creeps. There was a dormant generator of some sort at the center of the room. A catwalk circled the generator. When the door of the metal dome was shut, it sealed so neatly that it effectively formed a seamless, invisible seal. Cameras monitored the room and the lights of the computers blinked in strobe patterns. Johnny had never been claustrophobic, but just standing in that room was making him feel like he couldn't breathe. He leaned on the rails of the catwalk and tried to force himself to relax.
Something else wasn't right, and he couldn't pin down what it was. So, when the door unsealed itself to open for Doctor Doom, Johnny greeted him with a to-the-point, "What have you got in here? Something's weird."
Doom walked the circumference of the catwalk, pouring over the generator and computers like a proud father. If he thought Johnny was going to follow, he was crazy. Johnny had the almost-irresistible impulse to step outside the minute the door opened, and he didn't plan to move more that three steps from the invisible door after it closed. The machinery wasn't that interesting.
"This mountain was struck by a small meteor millions of years ago. Before Kubeka and Mufale took control of the province, geologists and their students would come here every summer to dig into the caves looking for fragments of the space rock. I watched them work sometimes when I was a child. I even played in these caves. The scientists were purely interested in what the meteorites could tell them about the origin of the universe. They had no idea what was really down here. I didn't know either, not until after my---evolution." Doom smiled at his protégé beneath his steel mask. "You sense it, too?"
"Something down here has my Spidey-sense tingling if that's what you mean," Johnny confirmed.
"Our mutation heightened our sensitivity to the 'energy', for want of a better word, from the meteor fragments." Victor moved to the generator's main controls and pressed a button. The generator rumbled and panels opened like flower petals. A claw descended from the ceiling and retrieved a crystal the size of a pea. "After my company purchased this land five years ago, we mined several large meteorites and a thousand or more small fragments like this one. I'd planned to donate the more spectacular pieces to museums in Latveria and sell the remaining ones to universities and research laboratories. As I said, I didn't know what I had at the time. I never got the chance to carry out my plans. Selva-Uitti stole my research and all the large meteorites during its hostile takeover of my corporations. All I had left were these miniscule bits. But those small pieces were sufficient to show me what I had missed all these years---after my evolution allowed me to understand what these stones really are."
The boss sure loved putting on a show. Johnny humored him. "Okay, I'll bite---what are they?"
Doom tossed the small crystal to Johnny. It landed on his palm.
"Try to burn it," Doom instructed. There was amusement in his tone, and Johnny would have thought the boss was pranking him if Doom had ever shown a sense of humor before.
"O-kay, it's your space rock. Just don't take it out of my paycheck if it melts," Johnny said. He called up his flames, just on that hand, turning the flame up slowly so that he could stop at the first hint of damage to the crystalline meteorite.
The rock began to glow from its core. Johnny lost control of the situation almost immediately. The meteorite began drawing heat out of his body like a leech. His hand went cold, then his lower arm, and the stone glowed all the brighter. Flames replaced his skin and the stone radiance intensified while Johnny felt his own temperature fall. Unconsciousness beckoned; His vision blurred and it became very hard to keep his eyes open. He thought he heard Doom shout something, but the words were drowned out by the roar of his own flames.
"That's enough!" Something struck Johnny's hand, knocking the crystal from his grasp. Doom caught Johnny by the elbow, his iron grip keeping the younger man upright. The stone clattered across the catwalk. Johnny wouldn't have gone after it, even if he weren't too dizzy to walk. Doom guided him over to the railing, and the younger man leaned heavily on the bars for support until his vision stopped spinning and his body began replenishing its considerable heat.
When the boy had recovered a bit more, Doom assured him, "I apologize, Johnny. I had no idea the reaction would be that severe." That was a lie of course, with a kernel of truth to it. He really couldn't afford to risk the Human Torch's life on this small fragment. Doom needed a much larger piece of the meteor for what he had planned.
Victor moved to retrieve the stone. It radiated light, but was cool to the touch…just as he'd expected and hoped. "In ten seconds, you just proved a hypothesis my best scientists haven't been able to prove in the past six months. To put it in non-scientific terms, the rocks are thermal batteries. Bio-thermal batteries to be specific. Ordinary humans don't generate adequate heat to act as a catalyst, and the rocks only react to biological heat sources. My scientists here theorized that if a biological source could produce enough heat to create that reaction, the physical structure of the crystals would allow them not only to store that heat, but to regenerate and emit it as pure energy…pure self-sustaining, self-regenerating, energy."
Johnny wasn't going to pretend that made complete sense to him, but he could see where Doom was headed with this. Gingerly, he let go of the railing and was glad his unsteady legs supported him. "So you wanted me to fire this bad boy up and see if their theory panned out?"
"I admit that curiosity got the better of me. Can you imagine the potential if the theory is correct? This mountain produced thousands of small pieces of meteorites like this one. The applications for them are almost limitless. Cars could run indefinitely powered by a stone the size of a dime. Homes would no longer depend on wood or heating oil. There'd be no environmental damage from fuel refineries, no nuclear waste to bury. It would be a revolution in the world energy market, with Latveria reaping the profits as the world's only supplier. People like our friends in the village would go from lanterns and latrines to world superpower overnight," Doom postulated.
Johnny crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow. "It's a nice idea, boss. Only problem is if it sounds too good to be true…"
Doom returned the dormant meteorite to its storage case inside the generator. The panels closed around the stone. "This generator station was built to convert the energy emitted by the stones into electricity. It could power all of Latveria with one of the large stones Selva-Uitti Corporation stole from me when they stole my corporations. Theoretically."
"Theory and five dollars will buy a small cup of coffee at Starbuck's," Johnny answered. "Basically, you want me to fly up to Selva-Uitti, get your space rocks back, then hit 'em with a nova blast and see if they spark or if this is all a bunch of garbage, right? Gotta tell you, I'm still thinking it sounds like whoever came up with that theory spent way too much time sitting in the lab watching Star Trek."
"You've already proven it isn't garbage." Doom rounded the generator, heading back to the door. "The level of bio-generated heat required for a catalyst for the meteorites is almost the temperature of the sun. I've see Richard's files. I know that generating that level of heat is life threatening to you. I wouldn't have a problem with that if you were still under his misguided leadership, but you're not. You're far too valuable to my team and to Latveria alive. I'd never ask you to risk your life on a theory."
Johnny grinned. "You don't need to ask. I'm completely on board with the whole 'save the world and get super rich doing it' concept."
"I was right about you, Johnny, you are a man with vision, just like me." Doom clapped the boy on the shoulder. He keyed open the door. Johnny wasted no time getting out of that unnerving steel box.
Leonard waited for them in the corridor outside. He stayed a few paces behind as the trio headed towards the adjoining tunnel back in the direction of Doom's palace. Doom instructed: "I'll have a jet waiting for you at the airfield in Mufale. You can leave first thing in the morning. Leonard will have all the information on Selva-Uitti's facility in New Jersey ready for you by then." He paused and looked the boy squarely in the eye. "I need to know first---will you have any problems if your family decides to interfere with your assignment?"
Anger at the mention of them involuntarily triggered Johnny's flames. "No problems at all," he said. With great effort, he brought himself back under control and the flames died out.
"I'm glad to hear it. In the meantime, I believe Dr. Sater is taking a load of supplies down to the village this afternoon. I think I can spare you for one evening if you'd like to renew your acquaintance with some of the ladies there. Have fun."
Johnny's grin was back. "Always." Throwing Victor a mock salute, the Human Torch found an exterior door and flew off to find Dr. Sater and the supply trucks.
"He's willing to steal," Doom approved. "I wonder what else he'll do now that Dr. Sater's program had altered his bothersome concepts of right and wrong. This should be interesting."
"You could have simply set Dr. Sater's program onto—what did she call it? Autopilot? You could just order Mr. Storm to perform your test, sir. Why go to the trouble of convincing him to go along with your plan?" Leonard wondered.
"If I'm going to make the boy sacrifice his life, he at least deserves to know the reason why, Leonard. Or part of the reason, at least." Doom turned to his assistant. "And scientific curiosity. I'm enjoying seeing the results of Dr. Sater's work. In fact, I may owe the good Doctor an apology for doubting her skills. I'm looking forward to finding out if she turned our Mr. Storm against his family as effectively as she turned him into my model employee. Leonard, make sure the press in New Jersey knows to expect an…incident…at the Selva-Uitti facility tomorrow. I want live coverage on every network."
Reed Richards would be monitoring the news for any mention of his wayward brother-in-law, Victor knew. He would interfere, and try to come to the boy's rescue. There was no way around that problem. Doom needed the satellite feed from the reporters' coverage to keep an eye on what Johnny did when his family showed up.
"Is that wise, sir?" Leonard asked.
"If I'm going to this much trouble to arrange a family reunion, I'd hate for the Troublesome Trio to miss it."
Nora had intended to wait until night before obeying Doom's orders to re-evaluate Johnny Storm. It would be far easier to have the guards remove Storm from his room in the employee's wing of the palace if he was asleep. She could have completed another session of her Behavioral Modification Program and had him back in his room without his ever being aware.
Von Doom, however, was not a patient man. Nora was loading the medical supplies and food Chendryn's benefactor had provided into a truck to deliver to the villagers before the blizzard came hit when a familiar voice greeted her cheerfully, "Hey, Doc!" as Johnny reached over, relieved her of the heavy box, and loaded it onto the vehicle for her.
"Mr. Storm, thank you," she said. Recalling her American slang, Nora asked, "To what do I owe the pleasure?"
"Boss thinks some of the goon squad might be hacked off about us icing their buddies, so no one's supposed to head into the forest without a heavily-armed chaperone. So, you up for some company?" He held open the driver's side door for her, offering a wide smile meant to charm her into agreement.
As she climbed into the driver's seat, Nora glimpsed a hooded figure watching the exchange from the balcony of Doom's private chambers. She knew what her employer wanted her to do: Conduct an impromptu counseling session while she had Storm in the truck with her, then use the taser weapon she carried in her coat pocket to subdue the boy. After that, she was meant to take him back to her laboratory so any programming flaws could be reversed before he was sent to confront his family the following day. She wished Von Doom would trust her to handle any refinements of the young man's programming her own way.
"And you get to spend some time with the girls in the village, I'm guessing?" she teased the young man.
If possible, Johnny's grin grew wider. "Pretty girls and the chance for a fight? No way I'm going to pass that up." He circled around to the passenger side and climbed into the truck. "Besides, I can see what farm folks around her do for a night life." And hook up with some of the ladies he'd saved that morning, play up the whole 'superhero' angle.
"I see. A little free advice?" Nora offered.
"Long as I don't have to get it by lying on a couch while you tell me how dreams about turtles in tutus is some hidden Freudian Oedipal thing."
As Nora wrestled the old pick up into gear and turned onto the road, Johnny kept his eyes on the hills and trees around them, watching for the first sign of trouble. Von Doom had vehicles in better condition available, but they made highly visible targets for men like Mufale when traveling in a province where motor vehicles were almost unheard of. She saw her passenger wince as the truck bounced and bucked over the smallest ruts in the snow-covered road. "Well, that does sound fascinating, Mr. Storm---"
"You can call me Johnny, Doc."
"---but I'm a Behavior Modification Therapist, not a Freudian."
Johnny shrugged. "A shrink's a shrink. What's the difference?"
"Behaviorists can think of much more fun things to do on a couch than talk about Mom and Dad."
The comment and her wicked grin were so unexpected coming from the serious and mannered Dr. Sater that Johnny almost choked laughing. Okay, so Doc Sater's all right, he decided. Hell, if he were ten years older, he might have forgotten about the girls in the village in favor of seeing how far the woman would continue with that train of thought. If he were ten years older and didn't have an innate distrust of shrinks born of too many psychological evaluations for one lifetime---the court-ordered counseling after the loss of his parents and before they'd grant Sue guardianship of her younger brother, the countless psychological tests during his flight training, and the tests before he was hired for Von Doom's space program.
"Fair enough. So, what's the free advice?"
Nora grew serious now, "Your lady friends come from a very close-knit farming community, which means they most likely have fathers, brothers, and uncles always within ear shot and very adept at using sharp farming tools."
"Ouch." On second thought, maybe Johnny would call up Nurse Marie and see if she felt like taking a weekend trip to the Latverian countryside instead.
Probably not. He hadn't watched television or been on the Internet since coming to Latveria, his cell phone didn't even work here, but he guessed that his resignation from the Fantastic Four and going to work for the widely-despised Von Doom was earning him points with most of the folks back home.
Nora had to resist the urge to laugh when he blanched at the mental picture of being chased by angry farmers bearing said implements. "Our province is very different than where you come from, yes?"
As the pick up reached the outskirts of the village and began rolling past houses that would need a visit from the Extreme Makeover: Home Edition team to be upgraded to 'hovels', Johnny sobered a bit. His family never did without electricity—or sewers---when he was growing up, but Johnny sure knew how it felt to live practically hand-to-mouth and to work his ass off for not enough money to live on. He and Sue had done that for years after the lawyers' fees for their father and for family court had gobbled up what money their parents had left them.
"Well, I wouldn't say 'no' to the boss adding Dish Network or DSL or a cell phone tower, but don't sell yourselves short. I mean there aren't many places where you have the chance to run across folks with cattle prods back in New York, not since they chased the hookers out of Times Square anyway. But, there's a few clubs on the East Side I haven't visited, so I could be wrong about that," he cracked. He knew what she meant, however.
The off-handed remarks made Nora uneasy. Was he homesick? That could be a problem, a programming glitch. The program should have quelled any desire to return to the United States or to his family. If Johnny had the sudden impulse, despite his post-hypnotic commands, to fly home, she could not stop him. If the program had not erased all his doubts about abandoning his family---and he was sure to cross paths with them on his mission the next day---it was possible they could exacerbate that flaw and turn him back to their side.
She knew how Doctor Doom would respond to that turn of events, and it terrified her. Automatically, one of her hands felt for the taser in her pocket. They were almost to the village. If she were going to use the taser and take Storm back to the laboratory for another session of programming, she had to act now, before they were spotted.
She couldn't quite bring herself to take up the weapon.
"If you miss New York, I'm sure Mr. Von Doom wouldn't mind if you wanted a vacation---"
Johnny's eyes narrowed. Had Nora not been struggling both to keep the truck from bouncing off the road and with the debate going on in her head, she would have seen a flash of fire behind his eyes.
"---I'm sure your family, what do they call themselves—the 'Fantastic Four'---they would be glad to see you," Nora hinted. She waited, holding her breath, for his answer.
Johnny's tone was cold. "I don't think so." If they gave a damn about him, they would have come looking for him by now. He supposed they'd gotten the message that he didn't want to be followed when he incinerated most of their house.
"You don't want to see your family?" Nora managed to fake surprise. Inwardly, she was enormously relieved to hear it.
"I don't think they'll be thrilled with my change of careers." He shifted nervously on his side of the bench seat, already regretting coming along for the ride. Shrinks were the same in any country---he was as good as on a couch trip in less than five minutes. "They aren't what you'd call fond of Von Doom." He wasn't even going to discuss blowing up the Baxter Building on his way out of town. She'd probably read hostility issues in that.
"Then why would you---?"
His answer came out precisely as she had programmed. "Ah, they always did think I'm a flake anyway, so what the hell. At least Von Doom knows talent when he sees it, kind of like a----"
"If you stick with me, I'll help you fulfill that potential".
"I was the one who was prepared to be that mentor, that father figure. I still am."
Johnny faltered. He started to say 'father figure', but he didn't know why. He'd had plenty of people---from that idiot middle school Principal Vincent right up to Reed Richards---pulling that surrogate big brother-father figure b.s. on him. The last thing he needed was to be let down by another one. He could feel his temper rise at the idea. Johnny just barely got control of the sudden flash of anger before he lost control of his power and flamed.
Dr. Sater provided a more palatable word: "A mentor?"
Yeah, 'mentor' Johnny could deal with. "Sort of."
Nora nodded, secretly pleased---and disconcerted---by how smoothly her post-hypnotic commands had integrated themselves into his subconscious, his ethics, his logic, his entire decision-making process without Storm even being aware that his mind had been altered. Her program was functioning perfectly.
If it were being used for its intended purpose instead of making an unwitting slave of an innocent boy, Nora might have even felt like celebrating her accomplishment. Instead, all she felt was elation coupled with the feeling the need to throw up.
They rode on in silence for a minute before Nora asked: "You saved many people with your powers?"
"My fair share," he answered.
"You do know that what you've done with the gifts God gave you has already saved many lives here, too?"
Gifts from God? Johnny finally summoned his flames, limiting them just to his fingertips so the doctor didn't freak out and wrap the truck around a tree. He had always believed he'd received his powers for a reason---that everything in his life had been preparation for them---but somehow he'd never phrased it quite that way.
Nora turned the pick up off the main road and onto a narrower path that lead across the open fields into the village. Children spied the truck and recognized their rescuer from that morning sitting in the passenger seat. They began to chase after the vehicle, waving and shouting greetings in Latverian. Johnny's spirits were lifted considerably by the sight. He waved back at them.
"You can see, you are one of us now, and we're grateful to have you." It occurred to her that she was almost apologizing to her passenger for an offense Johnny didn't even know she'd committed against him. "You can change many lives here---and perhaps then your family will understand your decision?"
More people had gathered to meet the pick up as it rolled into the village. The children swarmed around Johnny's side of the truck. He spied some of his pretty female admirers from that morning standing among the crowd. As he opened the door to climb out, ever so careful not to hit the over-eager kids on the other side, Johnny told her: "It's a nice thought, Doc, but I wouldn't hold my breath."
Then he was gone. Nora let loose of the unused taser she'd been fingering for most of the drive and sighed. There was nothing more she could do, and she hadn't the heart (or the stomach) to subject the boy to any more sessions. The post-hypnotic commands were functioning as best they could. When she returned to Von Doom's compound, she would tell him so. She only hoped her work had been good enough. If not…then she very likely had made a fatal mistake just now.
Nora would have her answer in a few hours.