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Chapter 13: Funny Who You Run Into in Serbia

Slavija Lux Hotel, Belgrade

Janet steamed out of the room, down the stairs, across the lobby and out the front door of the hotel. There, she stopped and blew out a deep exhale of frustration into the cool evening air. She couldn't believe Pym – what's happened to him? Ever since he got into this Avengers project, he was like this vindictive vigilante, thinking he was entitled to carry out his own judgment against the man who killed his wife. And while Janet understood the emotion, she also understood a thing or two about civilization and self-restraint. If there's one thing the world didn't need it's a team of technologically souped-up freelancers running around eliminating anyone who crossed them. They'd be no better than this 'Executioner' they were after.

She started walking. The residents of Belgrade, rushing to catch buses or scurrying home, moved past her in a continuous flow. But she kept ruminating on Pym. She could see in his face that he was taking her disapproval pretty hard. But what else was she supposed to do? She liked Pym – a lot, as a matter of fact. One of the things that attracted her about this Avengers initiative was the chance to spend more time with him. But the man sitting in that hotel room back there wasn't the Pym she thought she knew.

Then a thought struck her: could his psychotic break during his Goliath rampage have caused a change in personality? She made a mental note to get with Stark later and ask him if there was a way they could find out.

She turned and started back for the hotel. As she entered and started across the lobby, a man walked past her going the other way – tall, wearing a cape and bearing a cane. It took a second for Janet to register the familiarity. But before she could even turn to see, she heard him call her name.

"Janet?"

She turned . .. and her mouth dropped open. "Edward?"

Sir Edward Percy stepped back toward her. "Is that really you? What on earth are you doing here?"

"I was gonna ask you the same thing."

"My God. It's good to see you!" Percy leaned forward to hug her. But Janet took a step back.

"Hang on a second."

Percy stopped short, his face showing his mystification. "What's wrong?"

Janet folded her arms in front of her. "You lied to me."

Percy extended his hands. "I'm sorry? How?"

"You told me you were in New York for a genetics meeting."

Percy didn't answer, and his face became blank.

"But there was no genetics meeting in New York."

Percy stood his cane in front of him and rested both hands on it. He said nothing for a long time. Finally, he nodded. "Yes." He sighed heavily. "Yes, I did lie to you. And I am sorry for it. But I can explain."

"Yeah? How about you start by explaining why you were in New York then, and why you're trying to get your hands on my dad's research."

Percy looked around. "Perhaps we could go somewhere a little less public? Could I buy you another coffee?"

"No, I think this is fine." Janet kept her arms crossed in front of her.

Percy looked around again like he was nervous, then stepped close. "Alright, if I tell you the truth, will you promise to go somewhere quiet with me so I can explain myself fully?"

"That depends on the truth."

Percy looked around again. Then he leaned very close.

"Janet, I was in New York for a meeting of . . . anarchists."

"Anarchists?" Janet wasn't buying it.

"It's a radical leftist ideology, it's-"

"Yes, I know what anarchism is," Janet answered curtly. "I'm just not sure whether this may be the lamest excuse I've ever heard in my life. You're telling me you were in New York for a meeting of anarchists, and you lied to me about it? Why?"

Percy sighed again. "Janet, anarchism is a widely misunderstood ideology, one without much history of popularity in your country."

"But why would I care? I went to Yale."

Percy nodded, but he still looked nervous. "I should have given you more credit than that, a fact I now realize, and I sincerely apologize. But can we please discuss this someplace else!" Percy's voice was a strained whisper. "Serbia is not exactly known as a land of tolerance for leftist ideals, either."

"Then why are you here?"

"I have a castle in Montenegro." Percy stopped and stared at her hard for a moment. "But as for why, specifically, I'm in Belgrade right now? Ironically, I'm here on an errand for you."

Janet stared back at him.

"Remember?" Percy smiled and tilted his head at her, as if by doing so he could jog her memory. "I promised I would – 'I know people who know people who might be able to help track down who killed you father,' that sort of thing?"

Janet caught her breath, but tried to hide it. It hadn't even occurred to her that Percy might follow up so quickly or thoroughly. She was flattered and suspicious at the same time.

She looked around. A small coffee shop sat just across the street from the hotel entrance, and it was a well-trafficked street. If Percy had harbored ill designs on her, he'd had plenty of chances to carry them out before now.

"Alright. A coffee. But that's all! No more of that Chateau-Grillet!" She turned and started walking with him back out of the hotel. "I could barely remember getting home."

"So you're an . . . anarchist." Janet gawked across the table at Percy. "And you were so afraid I might disapprove that you lied about it?"

Percy looked away sheepishly. "I'm afraid that's it, yes." He looked back at her. "And do you disapprove?"

"Well no, it's just . . . I guess I never figured a guy who owns a castle – multiple castles, as it turns out – for an anarchist."

Percy nodded. "I understand. But like I said, anarchism isn't what most people think."

Janet leveled her gaze at him. "I remember enough from my poly sci classes to know it's not about individuals amassing castles and renting Rolls Royces. Nor being knighted."

"Quite right." Percy's eyes glistened as he appeared to warm to his subject. "Those are merely tools I use in my quest." Percy extended his hands across the table in enthusiasm. "What I'm really after, Janet, is equality. Equality! For men, women, rich, poor, black, white – no matter what lines of demarcation we place on each other. Anarchism isn't about tearing down governments for the tearing down's sake. It's about freedom - freedom for individuals to collect themselves in the manner of their own choosing. But in any event, as equals. That's what I'm after. That's why I'm interested in evolutionary genetics – bringing the gifts of science to all of humanity, not sold for profit by some greedy corporation or made available only to a chosen few by a hegemonic government. If we could free humanity from the dread of drug-resistant microbes, think what a gift to the world that would be! That's what I'm working toward."

Janet had to admit, there was some sense in what he said.

"At my castle in Montenegro, I'm working on things even more amazing than you already know." He looked around, like he was about to tell Janet the biggest secret since binary code. "Would you believe environmentally sensitive cows?"

Janet nearly choked on her coffee. "You mean that methane business?"

"Cow farts, yes, exactly."

Janet burst out laughing.

"What - isn't a knight allowed to say 'fart'?"

"No, it's just . . . something about it coming from you!"

Percy apologized good naturedly. But then proceeded to spend the next half-hour explaining to Janet the genetic alterations he was talking about. And like the first time, he managed to make the subject incredibly erudite, yet amazingly whimsical, all at the same time. By the end, Janet had learned more than she'd ever thought she'd know about cow digestion, yet laughed harder than she had since . . . well, since the last time she was with Percy.

"But Janet," Percy became suddenly serious. "It's research like this that makes me really want to have a look at your father's data. We've reached a point in our experiments where the animals are having reactions to the genetic modifications we're making. If we could give them resistance to those reactions . . . why Janet, I believe we'd be almost there!"

Janet looked across the table at him. She could see in the way his eyes gleamed that he was passionate about his work. She found his idealistic notions about science benefiting everyone refreshing – very different from Stark's self-serving "proprietary ideas." Different even from Pym's perpetual defeatism. Percy had an almost childlike enthusiasm, yet the intellect of a genius . . . and the politics of a revolutionary?

"So I'm just supposed to turn my research over to an anarchist?" Janet arched her eyebrow at him playfully. "I'm not sure father would approve."

Percy smiled. "My dear, I assure you I can be trusted more than any government or corporation you've ever dealt with."

Janet laughed. "Alright. I don't care what Stark says. I'll get you the research. You deserve it for purposes like that."

Percy laughed. "Thank you, Janet. I promise you won't regret it. And just imagine . . . Nobel Prize . . . for ridding the world of cow farts!"

Janet burst out laughing again. This time Percy laughed with her.

"I can't wait to tell Tony he was wrong about you," she said after a moment. "I've missed you." She said it before she realized it.

Percy glanced down at his coffee cup, then back into Janet's eyes. "You know, I haven't stopped thinking about that night."

She smiled, slightly embarrassed. "Me either."

Percy's eyes shone with a new enthusiasm, not one prompted by science or politics. A deeper, more visceral enthusiasm. One that flattered deeply. "It was one of the most magical nights of my life." Percy stirred his coffee. "I wouldn't mind having a few more like that one."

Janet nodded. "I know."

An awkward pause set in. But Percy, eloquent as ever, didn't let it last.

"So . . . you haven't told me why you're in Belgrade."

Janet felt awkward, explaining their expedition of justice . . . or was it revenge? . . . after Percy's enlightened soliloquies. "We're on a . . . mission, I guess you'd call it." She went on to explain it to him. "I guess you could say we're still kind of stuck in 'avenge' mode."

Percy nodded. But Janet could see disappointment in his eyes.

"It's really Hank who's driving it," Janet added. "He's become obsessed with getting revenge on the man who killed his wife. He's like . . . murderous. It's not like him. I'm worried he'll try to do something stupid."

"Well, you mustn't be too hard on him," Percy responded. "His wife was murdered, after all. As a man, I think I can understand. That has to do something to you – something very deep and transformative. But . . . ." he sat back and sighed. "Not having experienced anything so awful myself, I'd be reluctant to judge him. It would take an extraordinary man not to want revenge, don't you think?"

Janet was surprised. This wasn't at all the response she'd expected from the enlightened Edward. "Yes, I suppose it would." She thought about it more. "But Edward, I know a thing or two about losing a loved one. And while I can understand the emotion, I refuse to let myself go down that road. I haven't, and I won't. It's what separates us from killers and animals. I will do everything in my power to bring the man who killed my father to justice." Janet stabbed at the air with her index finger for emphasis. "But I will never be a party to brute revenge." She sat back. "I'll fight against Hank if I have to, to prevent it."

Percy studied Janet's face with a look somewhere between desire and admiration. "Well . . . I know you'll do the right thing when the moment comes.

Janet sat back. "I hope so."

A brief silence set in between them again. Janet broke it this time.

"So, about your errand here in Belgrade . . . any news?"

Percy shrugged. "Unfortunately, no. Not yet. The only reason I'm here is because I have contacts here. The Serbian government tends to look the other way when it comes to these unsavory types roaming about the country."

"So I've heard," Janet said, thinking back to her conversation with Stark and Pym on the jet.

"Right," Percy nodded. "Anyway, I don't really favor hobnobbing with these sorts. But . . . I suppose one has to go where the people are, right?" He made an artificial toast in the air with his coffee cup, took a sip, and set it down. "Besides, for you, it's worth it."

Janet smiled again and felt her cheeks flush. "I just . . . I can't thank you enough."

Percy suddenly lit up with an idea. "I don't suppose I could talk you into flying away with me to my castle in Montenegro, could I?"

"What?" Janet couldn't believe her ears. "When?"

"Why tonight of course!"

"Tonight!? How on earth would we do that?"

"I have a plane. Well, a heliplane, actually. It's a prototype, but it's a beauty. Faster than a commercial jetliner, and it can land on a spot of lawn no bigger than this room. We could be there in time for a nightcap!"

"Oh my . . . I couldn't."

"Come on. It's beautiful there, looking over the mountains in the moonlight." He reached across the table and took Janet's hand. "I'd love to show it to you."

Janet imagined flying in some small, ultra-fast "heliplane" across the Balkan countryside, Percy next to her, looking out the windows as the quaint villages flew by underneath. She imagined what his castle must be like – it sounded so exotic. Her breath caught at the thought of it.

But she knew she couldn't. Pym would worry and Stark would freak – both justifiably, in this case. She had willingly joined them on the mission. She would see it through.

"I really can't," she pleaded to Percy. He looked downcast. She took his other hand in hers. "I would love to, I really would. But I came to Serbia with Hank and Tony to do a job, and I owe it to them to finish it."

Percy nodded understandingly. "You're right of course. And it's honorable of you to do so." He looked at her with longing eyes. "But I won't deny my disappointment."

Janet noticed that they were still holding hands across the table. "Can I take a rain check on it?"

Percy smiled. "For you, Janet . . . just name the night."