Chapter Ten
Jason Macendale fumbled for his keys in the dim lighting of the parking garage, muttering to himself. Finally finding them, he then flipped open his cell phone as he approached his car. Half a dozen missed calls, all of them from Lex Luthor. Jason let out a long sigh. Lex was not giving up, and he was getting more and more frantic about finding the missing link in the Goblin formula, convinced that Jason was holding out on him.
Jason snapped the cell phone shut and returned it to his pocket, then unlocked his car. He stole a glance over his shoulder as he opened the door. He'd had the distinct feeling that someone had been following him all night. He wasn't sure if it was just paranoia, or if Lex had actually stooped to having someone tail him. Neither would have surprised him. Jason slumped into the driver's seat and slammed the door shut.
"Hello, Jason," came a voice from the back seat.
Jason nearly jumped right out of his skin. "Who the hell-?!"
A hand clamped over Jason's mouth from behind him, and the sharp blade of a very large knife pressed firmly against Jason's jugular.
"In a moment, Jason, I'm going to remove my hand from your mouth," the voice said. "And I want you think very carefully about the next words that come out of it, because they very well could be your last. After Harry Osborn went to jail, you were the one who arranged the sale of OSCORP's assets. And I'm guessing the sale of Norman Osborn's Green Goblin formula was not on the official corporate ledger. Now, who did you sell the formula to?"
The hand was removed from Jason's mouth.
"H-H-Harry..? Is that you?"
The hand was slapped over Jason's mouth again, and knife pressed tighter against his neck.
"Now I just told you to think carefully about what came out of your mouth," the man behind him said. "So let's try this again. Who did you sell the formula to? I want an answer this time, or I slit your damn throat."
The hand was removed again.
"Lex Luthor," Jason said quickly, his palms dripping sweat. "I sold it to Lex Luthor!"
"Thank you, Jason," the man behind him said. "Now, I'm going to give you five seconds to convince me not to kill you anyway, for being such a traitorous piece of slime."
"I can take you to it!" Jason cried in a panic, shaking. "I know where the formula is! It's at LuthorCorp! I have a card key that can take us there in the elevator! Please don't kill me, I'll take you to the formula!"
There was a brief moment of hesitation. Then, the blade was removed from Jason's neck. Jason could hear the man behind him settle down into the back seat, and he stole a quick glance in the rearview mirror. Harry Osborn's face smiled back at him.
"It's a long way to Metropolis," Harry said. "Start driving."
. . . . . .
Back at the Triskelion, Clay Quartermain was leading the two newest Ultimates on a tour of the facility. He led Clark Kent and Peter Parker down a long corridor, deep within the lowest level of the complex.
"We usually only allow people with special security clearance down here," Clay explained. "But, Director Fury felt it was important for the two of you to see this." He punched a code into a panel next to a large steel security door. The door slid open, and Clay led Clark and Peter into another room.
At the far end of the room was a cell enclosed by a wall of six-inch thick plexiglass. Inside the cell, a man wearing blue jeans and a red flannel shirt sat reading a book on molecular biology. Wires and electrodes were stuck all over his body, hooked up to an array of equipment that was monitoring his vital signs. The man looked up from his book.
"I hope you don't mind some visitors, doc?" Quartermain asked.
He smiled and slid a bookmark in to keep his spot. "I'd love some."
"Who is this?" Clark asked Quartermain.
"Gentlemen, I'd like you to meet the Ultimates' best-kept secret," Clay said, gesturing to the man in the cell. "This is Doctor Banner. Doc, this is Clark Kent and Peter Parker. They're the newest members of the team."
Doctor Banner rose and took a few steps toward the glass. "It's a pleasure," he said.
"Doctor Banner…" Peter said. "That name sounds familiar. Banner… physician, scientist?"
"Why are you locked up in there?" Clark asked. "Are you sick?"
"In a manner of speaking," Banner replied.
"You boys may remember the first major public appearance of the Ultimates was fighting a big green monster in the middle of Times Square," Quartermain said. "A monster that the media dubbed 'The Incredible Hulk.'"
"Yes… I remember that," Peter said, nodding.
"What we have kept from the media since then is the fact that the Hulk is actually our very own resident scientist," Clay continued.
Peter took a step toward the glass. "…You're the Hulk?"
Banner looked away. "Sometimes," he said, quietly.
"How is that possible?" Clark asked. "I mean, you look just like an ordinary guy."
"A failed experiment," Banner said, sounding almost embarrassed. "I was recruited to help Nick Fury create the next super soldier, before we found and revived Captain America. I was searching for a way to tap into the hidden strength that all humans have during times of extreme danger or stress. I did an experiment, on myself, and now, whenever I get angry, I transform into the creature. The Hulk. The creature is driven by rage. I can't control it."
"And this equipment that's monitoring you?" Peter asked.
"To make sure I don't transform. It can happen even in my sleep, if I have a bad dream. They keep me under heavy sedation most of the time, to prevent the change."
"This glass," Clark said. "If you changed… it could hold you?"
"I doubt it," Banner replied. "At best it would buy a few seconds for Fury to put the Triskelion on full security alert."
"You can understand why we want to keep this a secret," Clay said. "If people knew that the great menace that the Ultimates saved them from was actually someone on their own payroll, well…"
"Yeah, we get it," Clark said.
As Clay led Clark and Peter back down the corridor a few minutes later, Clark shook his head.
"You shouldn't keep him locked up like that," Clark said. "It isn't right. What kind of life is that?"
"First of all, we keep him locked up for the safety of everyone around him," Quartermain replied. "And secondly? It was his idea. The cell, the sedatives, the monitoring systems, all Doctor Banner's own designs."
Clark was hard pressed to come up with a reply.
"What's down there?" Peter asked, gesturing to a door marked Cell 47. Beside the door was sign which read ABSOLUTELY NO METAL BEYOND THIS POINT. Just visible through a window next to the door was a long platform which seemed to be made entirely of plastic.
Clay started to reply, but was interrupted by the squawking of the walkie talkie on his belt.
"Quartermain," Nick's voice blared over the radio. "I need the boys back up to the main deck, right now!"
. . . . . .
Several minutes later, Clark and Peter stood in front of Nick Fury in the main control room. Nick typed some commands into the central computer, and a schematic of a shipping dock appeared on the screen behind him.
"Looks like you guys are gonna get some field experience tonight," Nick said. "I've got a special assignment for the two of you. This is a dockyard in the Chelsea shipping district. We just received intel that an exchange is going down there tonight. One of Intergang's New York cells has arranged a meeting with some representatives from the Silvermane crime family. All parties involved are known to have very itchy trigger fingers, so if either side smells a double-cross, this could turn into a blood bath real quick. However, even if things go smoothly, this could be one of the biggest drugs-for-weapons exchange deals in history."
Nick clicked a few more keys and a series of images popped up over the dock schematic.
"Any or all of the individuals you see pictured here could be present at this exchange," Fury continued. "Vincent Edge II, son of the late Morgan Edge, and suspected current head of Intergang's Metropolis cell. Bruno Manheim, current head of Intergang's New York cell. Bill Church Senior of The Church Group, a known affiliate of Intergang. Hammerhead, Silvermane's right hand man and bodyguard. And, last but not least, Silvio 'Silvermane' Manfredi himself, head of the Silvermane crime family. If any of these individuals are present, they are to be apprehended and brought in for further questioning."
"Are you sure you want to put us on this job?" Peter asked. "I mean, why not send Cap or Iron Man or someone?"
"This kind of thing isn't really their game. Besides," Fury said, a smile crossing his lips. "I'm looking forward to seeing what you two kids can do. Now go suit up."
Clark raised an eyebrow. "…Suit up?"
. . . . . .
Across town, Chloe Sullivan stepped off the Greyhound bus and pulled her jacket tight as a cool New York breeze blew across her face. She looked around the busy bus station as people rushed around in a hurry, yelling and cursing as they checked their watches and waited impatiently for their buses.
"Excuse me," she said, grabbing the attention of one passerby. "Can you tell me how to find the Ultimates?"
The man laughed and replied in a New York accent. "Yeah, sure kid. Get super powers and start trashin' the city." The man walked off chuckling at his own cleverness.
Chloe sighed and shook her head. Maybe finding her friends wasn't going to be as easy as she thought.