Jack-Jack was the first to break the stunned silence.
"Mama?"
"Where'd they go?" Dash asked, his eyes wide as saucers.
"Dad?" Violet knew her voice sounded utterly spooked. She'd raised her hands up to her face in defense — no time to even create a forceshield — and only now dropped them to her side. "What's going on?"
Her father's mouth was still hanging open.
"I ... I have no idea," he said, as though he couldn't even believe what he had seen.
Suddenly, Jack-Jack vanished from her father's arm.
"Mama!" they heard him call, ghostly and echoey, clearly having assumed that his mother had disappeared into one of the alternate dimensions that only he could travel through. Within seconds though, he reappeared on the rug where she had vanished, his eyes wide and his lip trembling. "Mama?"
Violet picked up the baby and rubbed his back, trying to comfort him as best she could.
"Who was that guy? Dad?" Dash asked, more loudly this time. "Do you know him?"
Their father's initial shock and confusion seemed to melt away, and Violet was comforted by the calm, determined sound of his voice.
"Violet," he said. "Watch Jack-Jack. Both of you, stay in the house and lock the doors. I have to call Dicker."
Helen inhaled a breath of icy air and awoke in shock.
No!
Her arms moved to her face on instinct, ready to rip away the pair of goggles that were surely there. She felt nothing but her own freezing skin, but she also realized that her wrists were individually bound in some kind of rubbery material that felt just as cold as the air around her. Further exploration revealed that the same substance surrounded each one of her ankles and there were also bands around her neck like a choker and midsection like a belt. And, she realized grimly, each of those bands were connected by a strip of the same material running up her arms, legs, and torso.
Given recent events, she had a pretty good idea what its purpose was. She tried to stretch only her right index finger forward, but she had anticipated pain and she was not disappointed. An icy burning that started at the rubbery band on her wrist trailed down to her finger and then back up her arm, and she clenched her fist in agony. After what felt like hours but was probably mere seconds, the debilitating pain finally receded, and she was left breathing heavily, her breath crystalizing in front of her.
She was in a freezer, that much she could tell. Save for a few internal lightbulbs that cast an eerie blue glow over the scene, the only light filtered in from a frosted window, but it was enough for her to see the ice coating the walls and icicles hanging from the ceiling. And now that the shock was wearing off, she realized that her body was shaking violently all over.
The shock also brought with it a throbbing pain radiating from the back of her head, and reached her hands around — the rubbery exoskeleton was firm but moved with her limbs —and she felt a short but deep cut approaching the base of her skull. She must have landed on something when Xerek ... teleported them.
That didn't make sense. In the year that they were together, he hadn't had powers, or at least, he'd never shown her. What possible reason could he have had to keep his powers from her? They had been ... they had been close.
She pressed around the gash, trying to determine whether the object that had caused the cut was still lodged inside. She felt nothing, but as she probed, a sharp pain shot through her skull. She let out an agonized hiss just as the light from the window dimmed, and a tall figure appeared outside. The door opened and Xerek entered, looking cool and collected once again in his immaculate double-breasted suit.
Helen couldn't help but think that he seemed particularly suited for this chilly venue. The hazy blue lighting complimented his pale skin and light eyes. The Iceman cometh, she thought contemptuously.
"Good. You're awake." Xerek shoved his hands into his trouser pockets, and Helen continued to shiver in her capris pants and spring top. "I assume you've already tested your powers?"
"Wha-what did you do to me?" Helen said, her teeth chattering.
"I told you I was doing research. As I looked into the Superhero Legalization movement, I found out about a friend of yours. Fascinating woman, that Ms. Deavor. It's difficult not to respect someone who thinks so ... long-term. A woman after my own heart, though I doubt she'd be interested in me."
"Too bad." Helen glowered at him. "You'd be perfect for each other."
He smirked and then opened the heavy door again. "Would you like to remove to a less glacial environment?"
Helen huffed. "You sure you want to do that? I'm less of a threat in here."
Xerek's lips quirked knowingly. "I beg to disagree. You see, the substance you've just encountered is a rubber-based polymer I recently developed based on Ms. Deavor's research. At room temperature, the material is easily pliable, but it quickly hardens when exposed to the cold. Once that happens, it maintains that freezing temperature for far longer than normal even after returned to a habitable environment. It slowly releases the cold into the body of the wearer — specifically, you — chilling your muscles while not causing hypothermia. It's durable, adaptable, and the perfect way to nullify your powers."
"Charming," Helen muttered, though the thought that this product took advantage of her only major weakness terrified her. "It's almost like you were expecting me—" she scowled at him— "instead of trying to kidnap my daughter."
"Perhaps subconsciously I knew that you would try to thwart my plans."
"Last time I checked, I succeeded," said Helen, infinitely grateful that she was here and not Violet.
"For now," Xerek crooned. "I'll take care of that little matter later."
"What do you want her for?" Helen asked, disturbed by his determined words. She didn't want an answer, but she needed to know.
"She's my daughter," Xerek said, but the words were detached and clinical. "After fifteen years, she deserves to know that."
"She's not —" Helen broke off. Nausea swelled in her stomach, and she clenched her teeth, her body flooding with hot anger in spite of the frigid air. "Why do you care?"
"You know I wanted a family with you."
She scowled at him.
"Yeah, well, you've only got yourself to blame," she spat. "That ship sailed when you aligned yourself with Hitler."
Bob's heart pounded as the phone rang and rang on the other line. He heard Dash say that he would check the locks and then a faint whoosh as his son raced through their house. Not that that would do a lick of good if that man — Xerek — decided to teleport back.
The ringing continued.
Jack-Jack called for his mother again, and Bob tuned out his voice.
Stay focused. He tapped his desk his shaking fingers.
Come on, he thought. Pick up.
Finally, the call connected, and the slow, familiar voice came through the receiver.
"Dicker."
"Rick, what do you know about a guy named Xerek?"
"Bob?"
"Yeah," Bob said, impatiently. "Xerek. What do you know?"
The NSA agent's silence on the other line was disturbing.
"Rick?"
"What's going on, Bob?"
"He took Helen. Came to our house and just vanished." He fisted his hand in his thinning hair. "Who is he?"
"He vanished?" Dicker repeated. "Like ... superpower vanished?"
Bob spoke slowly and clearly, "Who is he?"
"A businessman. Real name: Derek Thorne." Bob could hear a file cabinet opening and clothing in the background. "Uh ... he ran a medical technology company called Xedatron Industries. He was involved in all types of humanitarian relief efforts around the world; he figured out how to cure blindness with computer chips implanted in the brain, and his scientists discovered cures for several diseases affecting communities in Africa."
"A Super?"
"Not as far as I know."
"And Helen?"
"They were ... an item for nearly a year."
Damn it.
Bob clenched his fist so hard the knuckles popped. Every bone in his body wanted to punch something, but he simply lowered his shaking arm to the tabletop.
He had thought ... but he didn't want to believe it.
"Bob?"
Bob breathed out a slow ragged breath, trying to quiet his pounding heart.
"Tell me what happened."
"Helen, we've exhausted this conversation a dozen times," Xerek said. "Hitler was a monster..."
"And you supported him!" Her voice echoed around the empty freezer.
"No!" He pointed a long, narrow finger at her. "Let's be clear. I supported the programs that he initiated that dealt with how to encourage the best physical and mental well-being in next generation of the German people. Nothing more."
"They were breeding experiments." She had seen the reports with Xerek's own affirmative annotations in the margins.
"And I dealt in medical technology," Xerek said, not a lick of remorse in his voice. "His findings could have revolutionized our understanding of health and wellness."
"At what cost?"
A beat fell, and Xerek's eyes narrowed. "Obviously, at great cost to me."
"What's this got to do with Helen?"
"She found out," Dicker said. "Xerek supported the Lebensborn experiments in exchange for Hitler's findings. Helen discovered the documents in his office, and she blew the whistle on his involvement."
"She went public?" Bob hadn't heard any of this.
"You were still in Poland with Frozone, helping with the clean-up from the war. But, here, the media had a heyday, as you can imagine. 'World Famous Humanitarian Revealed a Nazi.' He lost everything — his business, his license — but he vanished before the police were able to take him into custody."
"Vanished ... as in ..."
"As in Super powers, yeah." The tone of Dicker's voice was tinged with guilt, with failure. "Or at least that's the way it felt. The NSA put our full resources out searching for him, but to no avail. We transferred Helen to Municiberg shortly there-after, and —"
"I transferred in shortly after that," Bob said softly. "I had no idea. She never said anything."
"She was embarrassed," Rick said knowingly. "She'd unknowingly aligned herself with a villain and it came back to bite her."
Yeah, well, that pretty much described their current situation. Bob couldn't stop the anger that pooled in his gut. They had said no more sneaking around after Syndrome. No more secrets. Those had been Helen's words, and he'd agreed. The anger mixed with the sick taste of betrayal, and Bob thought he was going to throw up, but he swallowed hard and shoved the feeling away.
"Bob? You still there?"
He pulled open the bottom drawer of his desk, the red and black garment immediately visible.
"Where would he have taken her?" He grabbed the suit. "What do I need to do to get her back?"