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Chapter 10: Busted

Stark Industries Global Headquarters, Queens, New York

Janet woke up with a headache and, more alarming, only a hazy memory of getting back to her room. She looked at the clock - 9:32. Damn! She stumbled into the shower, grabbed a cup of coffee and headed for the lab. No time for breakfast today.

She walked in to find Stark sitting on a counter, his feet in a chair, staring at her, as if he knew she was coming. "Nice of you to show up for work today."

"Yeah, sorry. I overslept." Janet glanced over at Pym. He was sitting at a workstation not far from Stark. But he didn't make eye contact.

"Yeah, well that's what happens when you stumble home drunk at . . . let's see." He picked up a clipboard and looked at it. "I believe the guards logged you in at 1:52 a.m."

Janet winced. She should have known a guy like Stark would be checking up on her. She made a feeble attempt at self-defense. "I wasn't drunk."

"No, of course not." Stark countered, pushing the chair back and standing. He walked toward her. "Most people don't get drunk on Chateau-Grillet. It's pricey that way."

Janet stopped dead. Did I hear him right? She looked up.

"What!?"

"Oh yes, sweetheart. I know all about the dinner and the suite and the 'If it would put a smile on your face, it's worth it.'" Stark swaggered with an artificial-romance voice.

Janet's aching head started seething in rage as her recognition grew. "You son of a bitch! You bugged me!?"

Stark circled her. "You don't think I'm going to let an investment like you go out there and blow it all, do you?"

"That's against the law, you know." She knew it was a ridiculous thing to say as soon as it left her lips. But she was caught completely by surprise. And hung over.

"So is crashing police barricades, honey. So if you don't like it here, you can always leave. Maybe you'd like it better in state prison."

The shock and rage and humiliation was quickly burning off the fog in Janet's brain. "You're such an asshole."

Stark feigned surprise and disappointment. "Really? That's it? I expected something more . . . poetic, after all your more eloquence last night." He turned suddenly, anger bursting through his pretense. "But now if you're done with the cheap explicatives, how about you shut up and listen!"

Janet cut a nervous glance at Pym. He was sitting with his fingers templed in front of his face – clearly not working. But he still wouldn't even look at her.

"While you were out partying the night away," Stark continued, "I was doing what you should have done - which is a little background research on your new friend Percy."

"I already did that. He checked out alright."

"Yeah?" Stark resumed circling her. But he was calming again, resuming his arrogant swagger – Janet wasn't sure which she liked less at this moment. "Well I dug a little deeper than you. He said he was in New York for a genetics conference, right?"

"Yes. So?"

Stark stopped in front of her. "Well guess what, angel? There was no genetics conference in New York this week."

Janet felt her face flush. She didn't know whether to be furious, embarrassed, hurt, or all three. And at whom - Stark, Percy or herself. She also didn't know what to say. So she said nothing.

Stark resumed. "Fortunately for you, I don't consider an Oxford genetics professor a terribly great threat to what we're doing here. But I do consider it suspicious that he's sniffing around your father's research and lying about why he's in New York." He stopped in front of her again. "So let's make sure your little indiscretions of the past two nights are the last, shall we?"

Janet felt humiliated and defensive at the same time. "You can't treat me like that. I'm not your prisoner."

Stark shouted. "No, you're my employee. Which means I absolutely can treat you like this."

Janet knew she had no defense, and no options. She had nowhere else to go. She stared at the floor. "What are you going to do?"

"Nothing." Stark turned and started walking away. "We've got a mission. You need to suit up." He was headed toward the specially designed locker where he kept the Iron Man suit. "And no, he can't have your research, either," he called back. "Nor join the team."

Janet's reeling mind couldn't sort out what information to focus on first. But the word "mission" caught her attention. "Wait a minute . . . what?"

But Stark didn't look back. And Janet didn't have the energy to stop him. She stood rooted to the spot where her dressing-down had started, for the longest time unable to muster the wherewithal even to move. Slowly, she became aware that Pym was still there, seated at his work station, still not moving, still not looking at her.

Finally she staggered to the closet chair and sat down. "What just happened here?" she said aloud.

Pym didn't respond. He didn't move, either, for a long time. With Janet sitting motionless herself, the room became absolutely silent. Finally, Pym took his hands down from before his face, then scooted his chair back. The noise startled in the stillness.

"We're going to Belgrade." He started walking away.

Janet called after him. "When did that get decided?"

Pym stopped and looked back. "While you were out with your new boyfriend."

Janet was recovering enough that she could tackle this problem at least. "Okay, Hank, he's not my boyfriend. He's a guy who did some work with my father, just like you. And—"

"I know who he is, Janet!" Pym shouted. "Or who he claims to be! And you went off and met him based on nothing more than an email! He could have been Jack the Ripper for all you knew! How could you be so stupid?"

"Oh God, Hank, come on! Don't treat me like I'm your teenage daughter, okay? I took a chance and I'll accept my consequences. I'm a big girl, in case you hadn't noticed. But I won't sit here and be lectured by you!"

"Yet you'll lecture me about the relative merits of justice and revenge."

Janet gawked in disbelief. "Going out to meet a stranger who might help me find my father's killer is a lot different than wanting to murder someone!"

"I don't want to murder him! I want revenge on him!"

"And murder is just the byproduct of it?" Janet stood. "You know what? I'm not getting into this again. I've got—" Her head swam. She grabbed the counter to steady herself. "I've got to get some more coffee, and I need some Tylenol . . . and what's this about a mission?"

Pym stared at her grimly, like he was thinking about getting into it again. But after a pause, he answered. "We're going to Belgrade, like I told you. You need to suit up."

"Uh, no. I told Stark I'm not putting on that bodysuit again."

"He made you a new one."

Janet looked up. "He did?"

"It's already on the aircraft."

Janet was surprised. "Aircraft?"

Pym nodded. Then he turned to walk away again.

Janet called after him. "So . . . when are we supposed to leave on this mission?"

Pym kept walking. "Now."