Hank Pym has been swindled! His precious Ant-Man suit, the key to his miraculous size-changing abilities, is gone! Who's behind it? What could their motives possibly be? Is this act of thievery related to a string of robberies the Avengers are investigating? One thing's for sure, true believers, Hank is gonna need some help if he wants to learn what it takes-
Chapter 29: To Steal an Ant-Man
"So let me get this straight, you managed to take out that Ronan guy by yourself?" Connor wondered before sipping his raspberry ice tea.
"It wasn't easy, but… yeah, I guess I did." Carol answered after a long swig of her seltzer. The two were enjoying a moment of downtime in the library of Avengers Mansion, Connor finding it ironic that Carol was coming to him for advice. She'd even gone so far as to compare them as a 'team veteran' and a 'team rookie'. The technopath never considered himself a veteran, being over six months late to the team, well after Captain America had been recovered and recruited and after Black Panther had signed on.
"That's pretty cool. I mean, I didn't see it 'cause I was pretty TKO'd, but I heard you were great. I'm still nursing some cracked ribs from that hammer of his." Connor chuckled ruefully.
"Hey, you took down Yon-Rogg with Cap. That's nothing to sniff at." Carol replied.
"Man! I can't believe you guys got to fight off aliens while I got stuck in the LA sewers with Hawkeye!" Janet complained as she stirred her iced coffee concoction. "I had to shower three times when I got back just to get the smell out!" She added, taking a sip as she stared across the gap at the other two. Connor offered a sympathetic shrug.
"Guess it pays to be the on-call guy at the Mansion. The unscheduled stuff is always the good stuff." He determined. "Still… weird how Cap was so quick to throw down. He's usually reservered, looking for angles before he strikes. I overheard him telling Tony that he reacted because of what he read in our summary of the Kree Sentry fight. Didn't want them to do as much potential damage as that thing could." He trailed off, pondering Cap's attitude shift during the fight. Something about him got all wound up, like the fight with the Kree was personal someway somehow. "But, I'm telling you, it's not like him…"
"Sounds like he was just really zoned in. I'm sure it's nothing." Carol determined and Connor shrugged again.
"Eh… maybe you're right." He relented before taking a hearty swig of his ice tea. "So, Carol, how's your first few days been at the Mansion?"
"Not gonna lie, this is pretty cool. But I still find it a little intimidating to be an Avenger alongside guys like Captain America and the Hulk. What you guys do is so good for humanity and the planet. Now that I'm one of you, it's… well, it's like I have a lot to live up to." The blonde confessed.
"Ah, don't worry about it, Carol. Just look at us! We're perfectly average." Janet remarked, gesturing between Connor and herself.
"If you're the one setting the bar, I'll breeze past it." Carol teased, quickly earning a frown from Janet as the brunette stuck out her tongue in retort. Their moment of childishness was interrupted by a series of chimes from Connor's ID card, the technopath slipping it from his pocket curiously. "What's that?" The blonde wondered.
"I wired up the security surveillance for the sublevel lab to my ID card. Didn't want any unwelcome intruders again." Connor explained as he tapped a few invisible toggles to pull up the requested security clearance information. "Hey! Hank's ID card was just used to get in." He said aloud, a decision he would come to quickly regret.
"Hank? Really?!" Janet exclaimed, eyes shooting wide open as she nearly jumped out of her chair. Her drink miraculously found its way to the coffee table as she shrank down and took flight with a gigantic smile on her face. "I knew it! I knew he'd come back!" She squealed, darting off without another word. Turning to watch her leave, Jan moved far faster than Connor could, the technopath pausing bewildered for a moment as he recognized she had left.
"Uh… yeah… sure… see you later…" Connor mumbled, shoving his ID card back into his pocket. He rubbed his temples, clearly vexed. Carol as quick to note his change in demeanor.
"You okay?" She wondered. Realizing he was close to letting his secret slip, Connor quickly cleared his throat and adjusted his posture.
"Uh… yeah, I'm… I'm fine." He stated, quickly sipping his drink to stave off any further inquiries.
"Are you sure?" Carol pressed. Connor fidgeted, taking a longer drink than intended. He felt uneasy, worried and even tensing up a little.
"I don't wanna talk about it…" He mumbled in a quiet voice. Carol could tell someone was being defensive when she saw one. What Connor was being defensive about, she wasn't sure, but it appeared to be related to Janet someway somehow.
"Okay…" She backed off willingly, respecting his boundries. Taking her own sip as the awkwardness lingered, Carol quickly searched for another topic to clear the air. "Hey, you suggested a Star Wars marathon a while back. You think Tony has a player system with all six on it?" She asked. Pausing to digest the idea, the technopath cleared his throat.
"Uh, well… only one way to find out." Connor mused, reaching out with his magnets for the nearby remote.
Down in the sublevel labs…
Janet flew down to the underground levels of Avengers Mansion in almost record time and soon discovered that Connor's custom alert system was completely accurate. "Hank! You're back!" She cried, zipping over to her scientist-boyfriend as he walked around his personal lab with a box of things in his hand. She assumed he was bringing his things back from Grayburn. "I knew it! I knew you'd come back!" She giddily exclaimed, buzzing around him. "This is where we belong!" Hank was visibly the opposite of the bubbly woman, seemingly exhausted from either the task on his mind or Janet's barrage of statements.
"Jan…" He couldn't even get a word in.
"You'll get your lab here up and running again, you'll bring all. Your weird bugs back. You'll do some more crazy experiments." Janet carried on, seemingly oblivious to his less-than-interested expressions. "I was thinking maybe we could upgrade my stings, maybe give me a power boost…" She finally trailed off when she watched Hank use his vaporizer to reduce the entire box he'd been carrying to atoms. "Hank? Um, what are you doing?"
"I only came back to clean out this lab, Jan." He revealed. "I know you can't accept this, but I'm done. I'm done with the Avengers. This isn't me anymore." He said flatly, turning away from her. Janet hovered in stunned silence before pursuing him with a buzz.
"No… Y-You're Ant-Man!" She stammered in response.
"I'm not, Jan. I haven't been since Ultron." Hank grumbled as he walked out of the lab. "And honestly? Probably even before then." Withdrawing a fob from his pant pocket, he took aim at his dome-shaped lab and pressed the trigger. A sudden rushing influx of Pym Particles shrunk down the lab in a golden glow to a small pocketable size, allowing Hank to stride over and pick up the once massive building and take it with him. "This is for the best." He stated, leaving no room for discussion. Janet was growing desperate.
"Okay, but-"
"I'm leaving." He interrupted, entering the elevator to take him back to the surface. As stubborn as ever, Wasp pursued him.
"You're leaving what? You're leaving the Avengers? You're leaving me?" She questioned, sounding more concerned as his silence grew more intimidating with every passing second. The elevator arrived on the main floor and Janet flew around to confront him, growing to normal size to bar his path. "We can talk about this. We can make it work if you just try!" She insisted as she and Hank paused in the main foyer. "Please… talk to me." She begged him, hands clasped with eyes wide and pleading.
"Jan, you and I, we're just… we want different things." Hank sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose. Janet gasped quietly. Those sounded like the words of someone wanting to break up.
"B-But the Avengers-"
"Are not the solution to the world's problems." Hank cut in. "One day, you'll see. This is all a house of cards. It can't hold forever…" He trailed off, catching part of a news broadcast in the other room that T'Challa was tuned into.
"…twenty million disappeared in what can only be described as a flash of light. Bank personnel were not available for comment, but police have confirmed-"
"What does that even mean?!" Janet exclaimed, drawing closer and noticing the distant gaze in his eyes. "Look, you don't like all the fighting, I get it. But maybe you could work with the team in other ways." She suggested. "I mean, you're a genius Hank! We need you. If you hate all this so much, then help us find a better way! Walking away isn't gonna help anyone!" Her emphatic tirade over, she paused, hoping she had gotten through to him. "Can't you see how much this is hurting me…?" She asked softly. But Hank couldn't see, nor was he listening. Something about that news report had caught his attention.
The security footage from the bank robbery revealed stacks of tightly-packed dollar bills vanishing in the blink of an eye. But for the brief few seconds it was on the screen, Hank swore he saw an aura surrounding the money… a familiar aura, that seemed to caused the physical money to reduce in size...
"Hank?" Janet pried. "Are you even listening to what I'm saying?" She asked, sounding exasperated. Without another word, Hank turned on heel.
"I'm sorry, I have to go." He murmured, making for the door and not slowing down.
"Are you kidding me?!" Janet exclaimed, shocked by his blatant disregard for her. "Hank." She called after him as he opened the main door and stepped out of the mansion. "Hank!" He never once looked over his shoulder, disregarding Janet altogether as the door closed behind him.
Later that day…
Normally, Hank took his time whenever he was on the Greyburn College campus. The academic atmosphere and likeminded professors, many of whom he shared a kindred spirit with, were often conducive for his own scientific endeavours.
But today, he was hurried, blitzing across the college grounds and bolting up the stairs to his personal lab where he quickly locked the door behind him. Striding over to a private safe of his, he knelt down and entered the multi-factor keycode. The gross amount of security was for a good reason, for behind the door of this safe were his most treasured possessions: the Ant-Man costume, his Entymological Communication helmet and Pym Particle regulator belt.
He had a sinking feeling as the lights turned green and the door mechanism unlocked. He knew in his heart of hearts that the aura around the stolen money was the work of his Pym Particles. But there was only one way someone could make use of them, and such implications made him shiver with dread.
Swinging the safe doors open wide, his worst nightmare was realized.
"No…!" He gasped, seeing that the belt, costume and helmet were all missing from their proper placements. Even some experimental prototype Ant-Man tech had been taken. "No no no, this can't be happening…" He staggered backwards, staring horrified at his empty safe until he hit the back wall and slid down to the floor. For the first time in a very long time, Hank was at a loss for what to do. Sitting silently for a moment, alone and full of worry and dread, he moved on instinct and pulled out his Avengers ID card. After a moment's internal debate, he toggled the call button and waited as sapphire arrows flashed intermittently, connecting him to whichever Avenger was on call at the mansion. Sure Connor would pick up, maybe, Carol or Tony or, T'Challa. Just so long as it wasn't-
"Jan…" He whispered softly, doing his best to hide his disappointment and immediately regret as her face flickered into clarity.
"Hank? Are you seriously calling me?!" The brunette exclaimed, sounding none at all pleased. "I'm shocked you still have your ID card, I'd figured you'd already burned it before it made you beat someone up!" She derisively snapped. Hank ran a hand through his frazzled locks, feeling about as thin as his own hairdo.
"Jan, l-listen-"
"What are you, calling to quit again? I get it, Hank. You're not Avengers material you've made that perfectly clear! I just didn't want to believe it." Janet huffed in response. "Well, I'd never sit around and cry about things like Ultron. I'd do something about it. So the question is, Hank, what do you want?" It was a demand, cutting right to the point. Hank saw no reason to prolong this. She was clearly angry, tired of him, fed up with how different he was from her. Calling had been a mistake.
"I just… wanted to tell you that I'm sorry." He mumbled, promptly switching off his card. Slumping against the wall in relative quiet, Janet's stinging words hanging over his head, Hank tossed his card aside and watched it flutter across the floor until it became wedged between the floor and his trash can, currently overflowing. His gaze swept upwards, crossing over a discarded newspaper with an eye-catching want ad…
In trouble? NEED HELP? Call NOW!
"How's-a you gonna pay for all this, eh?" The hovering Toydarian wondered.
"I have twenty thousand Republic dataries." Qui-Gon responded. Watto scoffed.
"Republic credits? Republic credits are no good out here, I need something more real." He stated, shaking a clenched fist in emphasis for his desire of something more tangible that could be used on this backwater planet.
"I don't have anything else..."Qui-Gon slowly continued, raising his hand and subtlety waving it as he tapped into the Force, "but credits will do fine." He stated in a confident voice.
"No, they won't-a." Watto retorted firmly. Qui-Gon frowned, waving his hand more firmly as he tried a Mind Trick again.
"Credits will do fine."
"No, they won't-a!" Watto snapped, promptly cackling at Qui-Gon's efforts. "What, you think you're some kind of Jedi, waving your hand around like that? I'm a Toydarian. Mind tricks don't-a work on-a me. Only money. No money, no parts, no deal!"
"Man, Liam Neeson is just the best." Connor happily mused, settling back into the couch as he watched the Irish actor interact with Andy Secombe's CGI alien character. Opposite him on the same couch, Carol crossed her legs and watched bemused. In her mind, the Prequels were the cheesiest and nothing could ever surpass the original trilogy George Lucas created. But these appeared to be Connor's favourite and she caught glimpses of his relaxed, smiling expression out of the corner of her eye. His mood had gradually improved as they started watching The Phantom Menace, and a little womanly intuition was slowly putting the pieces together for her. "Hey, after Attack of the Clones, should we boot up some Clone Wars episodes?" Connor queried. Carol quirked a brow.
"It's not over yet, is it?" She wondered.
"No, but the first two… maybe three seasons are out." He answered.
"Alright, maybe." Carol decided with a nod of agreement. "Sounds like Star Wars is your favourite franchise."
"Actually it's second place for me. Number one is Transformers." Connor corrected. Carol chuckled.
"Of course. The technopath and big alien robots. I should have known." She remarked. At that moment, they were suddenly joined by T'Challa, the Wakandan king appearing with his hood pulled back and his face revealed along with a file clutched under one arm.
"I don't suppose you two could spare a moment." He queried.
"T'Challa! Oh, wait, should I call you 'your highness'? Do you prefer going by your title?" Carol greeted and then wondered, worried she'd broken a protocol of some kind.
"It is quite alright if you call me by my given name." T'Challa answered with a chuckle. "I am only royalty when I am not among my friends." He took a seat opposite them, the deep black of his skintight outfit squeaking slightly as he eased into a chair. Seldom did he wear anything other than his Black Panther costume when around the Mansion. "Are you familiar with the recent string of robberies near the waterfront?"
"No… Connor, pause it would you?" Carol asked.
"Man, just before the podrace…" The technopath grumbled with a good-natured roll of his eyes before doing as asked. "And yes, T'Challa, I have heard about those. Seems there's been one a night, all jewelry stores." The Wakandan passed ove rhis file to the pair.
"I have been conducting some research into the crimes and I have been noticing some patterns with each." He described as Connor opened it.
"Patterns how?" Carol queried as she looked at his readouts.
"Patterns that indicate the same group of criminals are conducting these burglaries." T'Challa answered. "Apparently the thieves are finished within the same window. They arrive just as the store is about to close and are done approximately fifteen minutes later." Carol kept reading over the notes while Connor leaned back to examine the bigger picture. Stories from witnesses, evidence that there had been a robbery, but no concrete photos of the robbers in question. His mind began to ponder, if there were no photos then the team was so precise that they knew to take care of such things in advance. A proverbial blip in the system, there one minute, gone the next.
He lifted a note continuing a statement from local law enforcement. "The Split-Second Squad." He read aloud.
"The moniker investigators have given them." T'Challa clarified.
"So in addition to confirming the same crew has burgled the same four jewelry stores in a row, I'm guessing you've spotted a pattern regarding their next move." Connor determined. T'Challa smiled.
"Indeed I have. There are five major jewelry stores located on this block of the eastern waterfront. Four have been struck, meaning the fifth is likely the next target of the Split-Second Squad. And it is why I have come to ask the two of you if you would like to accompany me on a stakeout. Tonight." He stated.
"Sounds like fun." Carol agreed with bright eyes. She turned to her compatriot. "You in, Connor?"
"Oh, sure, why not. Might be fun in the end." Connor concurred with a shrug.
"I have determined that the jewelry store in question closes late tonight. We will arrive two hours before that time in order to guarantee we are in position in time." T'Challa described. His fellow Avengers agreed with matching nods. "Until then, we certainly have time to continue this show. Tell me, has Qui-Gon tested Anakin's Force Sensitivity yet?" He queried, gesturing to the paused movie. Connor balked in surprise before he laughed out loud.
"I didn't know you were a fan!" He cackled. T'Challa looked to him with a smirk.
"You never asked." He said simply.
Meanwhile…
"Thanks for coming." Hank greeted.
"Happy to help, Doctor Pym." His first caller replied.
"So… what's the deal?" The second inquired. Hank sighed and gestured to the open safe behind him.
"Someone has stolen Ant-Man. Whoever the thief was, they knew who I was, what I had, and where to find it. Not to mention that they were able to circumvent one of the most advanced electronic locks on the planet. All of my systems and alarms were disabled without me ever knowing it… I'm not dealing with some common thief, but someone of incredible intelligence." Hank described. "The rest of the lab appears untouched. It's obvious the Ant-Man gear was the target. The helmet, the costume, belt… all of which are dangerous in the wrong hands." He mused. "But the biggest danger is to whomever stole it. If the thief were to activate the Pym Particles in the belt, they'd find themselves in what would look like another world. Trust me. Things look different when you're an inch high." He added.
"But, more importantly, at that size, you enter a whole new level of the food chain. And ants are nothing if not territorial. But even at ant size, subjects exposed to Pym Particles will maintain strength and speed levels relative to being full-sized. 'Ant-Man' is strong enough to take down full-sized humans, and fast enough to keep up with them. All that being said, the insect population has distinct advantages over an intruder… poison, any number of secretions. This makes communication key. The Ant-Man helmet allows for communication and influence of insects, essentially allowing the wearer to control them." His two callers exchanged looks, whether it was incredulous disbelief or simple amusement Hank wasn't certain. "What worries me most, however, are the Pym discs." Hank continued, gesturing to a shelf where the outline of a gun-shape lay emptied. "They were in development before Ultron… before." He paused, collecting himself as memories of that fateful day flashed through his mind. "They were designed to be applied to a larger target and activated, theoretically shrinking them. I thought… I thought they'd be a non-violent way to subdue supervillains." He said quietly. Taking a moment to compose himself, Pym made to resume, "The discs weren't stabilized yet. And when used, the affected targets don't stop shrinking. They go subatomic. For all intents and purposes, they shrink right out of existence." If that didn't catch their attention, nothing would. "It's vital the thief be found and subdued, before he or someone else is hurt. The damage that could be done… it staggers the imagination. So, please, will you take the case?" He asked. Before him, the Heroes for Hire nodded.
"Sure. But we'll need half our fee up front." The burly Luke Cage replied, his nimble cohort Iron Fist tilting his head in agreement.
Later that night…
Local police had cordoned off a section of road, just outside one of the banks that had been burgled recently, it's stores of money hidden within perfectly secure vaults gone without a trace. In a nearby alleyway, beyond the reach of flashing red and blue lights, the Heroes for Hire stood observantly by. Iron Fist and Luke Cage watched the officers work their job, going about the investigation by the book. As they did, Iron Fist pondered their newest job and the intricacies that came with it.
"Why us?" He wondered after a time. "I mean, why would Hank Pym come to us? Why not go to his own team? He's an Avenger. I don't get it."
"I do. Man's got pride." Luke replied. "Some dude stole his super-powers, started robbing banks with them. He probably didn't want to have to tell his Avenger buddies how bad he messed up." He decided. Stroking his chin, Iron Fist could see the logic behind his reasoning. For all his appearance as a bruiser with impenetrable skin, Luke Cage was a man capable of intelligent insight and great thought.
"That's a good point…" He mused. "I wouldn't want to tell Captain America that."
"But without his gear, he needs some muscle to take this guy down." Luke concluded.
"What are you thinking?" Iron Fist queried.
"This bank right here? It's a front." Luke stated with a tilt of his head. "I remember some punks telling me it's run by Hydra. This guy's not too bright if he's ripping them off." Iron Fist hot another look at the bank, squinting as he sized up its architecture and swearing that, among the many chiseled designs, there inlaid was the terrorist organization's signature multi-armed skull.
"Pym said that, whoever this is, they didn't even get the money." He recalled. "He said it got sucked into something called 'the Microverse'."
"That sounds messed up." Luke muttered with a shake of his head. Fist nodded in agreement, only to smile and chuckle a moment later.
"Luke…"
"What're you so happy about?" His friend sourly wondered.
"We're working with the Avengers." Iron Fist iterated with a grin. "Power Man and Iron Fist, working with the Avengers. Kind of exciting." Luke frowned.
"Man, knock that off." He chided with a wave of his hand. "And I told you never to call me 'Power Man', Danny." He grumbled, pulling back the hood of his ragged hoodie to reveal his bald head. "Now if this guy botched the job, he'll try it again. And if he's ripping off crooked banks, maybe he'll rob another." He determined. "I say it's time to shake down some informants."
Back at the college…
Bent over his workbench, Hank adjusted the resonance frequency of the laser welder he was operating, attempt to mass-weld several circuit components together into a device that might help against the unstable and unwieldy effects of his experimental Pym discs. The simple fact that such untested and highly dangerous technology was out there on the streets of New York, running rampant in the wrong hands, it caused him no end of worry.
Another danger to society, let loose by none other than himself.
He grit his teeth and upped the resonance, trying to get things to work. Instead the amplified photon output shattered the device in his hand, ruining his work. With a frustrated growl, Hank swept everything off his desk, sending bits and pieces of broken tech crashing to the floor. Behind him, insects in containment enclosures chittered at the sudden noise, countless ants, a few beetles and some yellowjackets all started buzzing at their rude awakening.
Pounding his desk with frustrated fists, Hank struggled to hold it together. His emotions were rising, bubbling over as everything he struggled with compounded on this night. A knock at his door stirred him front the moment, Hank rushing to look presentable as he strode over to pry open the door. "Henry? Is everything alright?" An older man on the other side inquired.
"Sorry, Professor Starr. I didn't realize there was anyone else here this late." Hank apologized.
"I could ask something similar of you." Starr replied, adjusting his spectacles.
"It's… well, someone broke into my lab and I'm trying to account for everything." Hank explained while shying away from any particularly revealing details.
"Oh goodness me!" Professor Starr gasped. "I am terribly sorry to hear that, Doctor Pym."
"Thank you. I was just… working on some things, trying to take my mind off it while the… the police investigate." Hank continued, gesturing to the broken materials on his work bench.
"Well, don't work too hard. Lord knows you of all the staff here deserve a good night's sleep." Starr added with a gentle wag of his finger. "I'm just on my way out. Do let me know if the thief is ever caught, alright?" He offered. Hank feigned a smile.
"Sure thing, Professor Starr." He promised, waving his colleague good-night before he shut the door and went back to work, picking up the pieces of the shattered device in order to try again.
Professor Elihas Starr was the college's resident specialist in atomic research, having apparently come from some manner of government job in seeking something 'quieter' to do. While gifted and respected, most knew him purely from his oddly-proportioned cranium and the nickname wrought from it.
But Hank was respectful and professional enough to have never once called him 'Egghead'…
"Okay, fine. Your informant was right. You still didn't have to bend him like that." Iron Fist remarked as he and Luke Cage trod down another alleyway with a very specific destination in mind. A single door at the end, guarded by a pair of thugs, became the target of the Heroes for Hire and they knew they'd have to put in some work to get what they needed from this motley pair.
A positively hulking brute of a man with a pair of scars etched into his chest, forming the vague shape of an 'M'. M for Mangler, the alias of Shadrick Daniels. His accomplice, an Asian man in lightweight oriental garb, had a weapon draped around his shoulders. From one end hung a morningstar head, from the other swung a sickle-like blade that earned him his alias. Iron Fist had dealt with Scythe on only one prior occasion, but to see him here was plain and simple evidence that someone was up to no good.
"Check it out. Looks like we got some more superheroes here." Mangler rumbled, moving to block their way.
"Do we look like superheroes to you?" Luke retorted. "You mess with us, you're not going to jail… you're going to the hospital." The challenge was the only invite the pair needed to attack first, Scythe moving on Iron Fist as Mangler wound up and drove his fists into Luke Cage, pummeling his body with blow after blow…
That did absolutely nothing to phase him.
Shocked, Mangler upped his efforts, wailing on Luke with blow after blow that failed to make him even budge, the dark-skinned man watching in amusement as Mangler tried and failed to hurt him. Recoiling, Mangler clutched a sore hand as Luke moved in and cracked his knuckles. "It's called 'unbreakable skin', fool." He remarked with a grin, winding up and delivering a powerful uppercut that sent Mangler flying through the air and laid him out flat on a dumpster.
Expertly dodging every attempt from Scythe, his weapon flailing around with expert control, Iron Fist needed only a single high kick to knock Scythe into the same dumpster, as unconscious as Mangler was. "'Tough guys'." Luke chuckled.
"They were on the lookout for more superheroes." Iron Fist observed. "Maybe they ran into 'Ant-Man'." He pondered.
"What now?" Cage wondered.
"Let me see if there's a trace of the thief left behind." Iron Fist decided after a moment's consideration, taking a seat by the alley wall and assuming a meditative pose. Luke knew what he was doing and rolled his eyes.
"You should be using that magic fist of yours to crack heads, not to focus your feng shui." He griped, leaning against the wall with arms crossed, unimpressed.
"Focusing my chi." Iron Fist corrected. "Maybe if you were open to focusing your own energy, you wouldn't be so angry all the time. It's not healthy, Luke." He remarked before closing his eyes. Of all the techniques taught to him by the K'un-Lun monks, meditation was the most useful in the wake of his parents' death. Becoming attuned to his environment, Danny Rand let forces beyond his comprehension mould his body to his current situation. The mark of Shou Lao the Undying began to glow and so to did his signature 'iron fist', now ablaze with supernatural chi energy. Lashing out as his senses detected an abnormality tied to chaotic soul energy, Iron Fist lifted a small object off the ground, no bigger than a pebble. It was a sack, tiny but recognizeable.
But before he could comprehend what it was and why it was here, his ears heard a buzz, a chittering that could only come from insects. "Luke…" He said slowly, rising and turning towards the disturbance. Turning, Luke saw it too, glaringly obvious against the backdrop of the illuminated street.
"Sweet Christmas…" He breathed. So much of the scientific spew from Hank Pym suddenly became quite the reality as he noticed a costumed man astride a winged ant.
"Uh, sorry. Wrong turn." 'Ant-Man' apologized. The Heroes for Hire wasted no time rushing to attack the Avenger imposter. Executing a series of sweeping punches and kicks, Iron fist attempted to swat him out of the air to no avail.
"Oh this is crazy! I can't even see him now!" Luke complained as he struggled to find an opening.
"He's there!" Fist cried out, whipping around and honing in on the sound of buzzing wings. "He's heading your way!" He called out. Luke tensed, watching and looking. The ant was minuscule, incredibly difficult to spot with the naked eye. But in a fraction of a second, Luke spotted the imposter and caught him between his hands.
"Got 'em!" He called out, having successfully trapped their quarry. "That was easy." He scoffed, only to suddenly eat his words when a blossom of golden Pym Particles erupted between his hands and forced them apart as the imposter Ant-Man exploded out at full size and dropkicked Luke to the ground.
Iron Fist was on the thief in a hurry, landing a lunge kick that knocked him over. His spry ness was noted by the martial artist as 'Ant-Man' sprang to his feet and recovered quickly. "I don't want to fight you!" He cried.
"Too bad." Luke growled, despising getting shown up. He lunged with a roar, 'Ant-Man' vanishing with another burst of Pym Particles before his fist could make contact and he shattered the nearby wall instead. Rearing back, he and his partner looked around for the thief, only to be surprised from behind as the near-invisible imposter struck Luke Cage from behind and knocked him flat on his face. Iron Fist attempted to intervene, striking at the pint-sized imposter with burning-hot blows. But Ant-Man managed to out maneuver him, demonstrating a clear mastery of Hank Pym's stolen tech as he summoned a winged ant and made a beeline for the discarded satchel Iron Fist had discovered mere moments ago.
"He came back for the money!" Danny cried out, giving chase as 'Ant-Man' took flight and disappeared from view on the back of an ant with money in hand. "Aaaaand he's gone." Iron Fist groaned as he lost sight of him. Luke Cage picked himself up with a grumble, shaking out his hoodie as he dusted himself off.
"Alright, for real, we're never telling anyone about that. Ever." He determined gruffly.
"Agreed." Iron Fist concurred.
"He caught me off-guard. I'm just saying…" Danny smirked at the string of excuses.
"Sure he did, Luke." He remarked. The chirp of a cellphone drew their attention to Cage's personal phone and their means of contacting their benefactors.
"Cage." Luke answered.
"It's Hank. I just finished the Pym Particle detector. We can track the thief now, wherever he goes."
"That's just great." Cage mused with a smirk. "Meet us at the east edge of Hell's Kitchen, we think we've got a bead on the guy." With that, he flipped his phone shut and stuffed it. "Pym's on his way, got some goodies to help us track this sucker. By the time I'm finished with him, he better know a real good lawyer." Cage remarked, cracking his knuckles. Iron Fist copped a smirk.
"You think Murdoch is up this late?" He wondered cheekily.
Elsewhere in the city…
"Twizzler anyone?" Cybernaut asked as he held out an open bag of cherry-flavoured licorice. Miss Marvel helped herself to two while Black Panther politely declined, determined to ensure the motion detectors and ultrasonic pulse readers were in position out of sight behind the jewelry store the three were staking out. Created in Wakanda, the advanced equipment would feed information directly to his optical units and inform him if the Split-Second Squad attempted to rob the store from behind.
"Everything is in place." He announced. "And now we must wait to see if my hunch is correct."
"Oh I'm sure it is, Panther." Cybernaut mused, taking a seat next to the short brick-built edge around the rooftop they perched on. "Seldom have you ever led us wrong with bad intel before."
"The Split-Second Squad is new and unpredictable, Cybernaut. There is a margin of error that I have not fully accounted for. They could always attack somewhere else." The Wakandan responded.
"Maybe so," the technopath agreed with a shrug, "but I can see all four jewelry stores they've hit over the past few nights." He added, gesturing to a line of storefronts stretching down the street. "They don't hit this one and I'll be just as surprised as you." Miss Marvel took a chance to sit across from them, her long toned legs stretching between the two men as they all sat patiently.
"So, what do Avengers normally do during stakeouts?" She wondered, biting into one of her Twizzlers. "Anything at all like what they do on Columbo?"
"I can't say as I've been on one." Cybernaut confessed. "Panther has, though. I think the last time you guys pulled a stakeout was when we were hunting Hawkeye, during the early days of the team." Black Panther nodded in agreement, leaving Miss Marvel confused and curious.
"Hunting Hawkeye? What did he do?" She asked.
"It was a very confusing case of espionage and a matter of spy games." Panther explained. "Long story short, we were chasing the wrong man."
"Huh. Guess that's bound to happen. I hear you guys get involved in a lot of helter-skelter operations. Always running after one thing or another with barely any time to breathe. But I guess that comes with the title of 'Earth's mightiest heroes', right?" Carol determined.
"You said it." Cybernaut agreed, fishing a fresh licorice from his pocket. "Sooooo… be honest. How many coffee-dates have you and my brother been on?" He asked with a cheeky grin. Carol felt her face go flush.
"Well I wouldn't call them 'dates' per se." She quickly clarified, then cleared her throat. "But, er… we've… been on a few."
"You did not tell me Miss Danvers was seeing your brother." T'Challa mused and Connor could just see the smirk under his cowl.
"You never asked." He retorted with a wink, miming his words from earlier that day before he turned back to Miss Marvel. "So, what do you think about Matt?"
"Your brother…" Carol started slowly, picking and choosing her words carefully, "is a very nice man." Cybernaut quirked a brow.
"'Nice'? Just nice?" He wondered in a teasing tone.
"Well… what do you want me to say?" An exasperated Miss Marvel retorted. Connor maintained his look, flustering her. "Sure, fine, he's nice to be around. He's calm, he's collected. Knowledgeable, even. A good friend." She spat out in rapid-succession. "There. Happy?" Connor chuckled.
"Yeah, he is. Kinda like the glue in our family. Normal, level-headed, always an anchor-point when our lives get all tumultuous." He agreed. Carol paused, her momentary surge in emotion quelled by the technopath's rather amicable description of his sibling.
"I… That's… nice, Connor. Not often you hear about siblings getting along so well later in life." Carol quietly concurred after a moment. Then she cleared her throat again. "Alright, new conversation rule; ask me anything you want but my personal who-I'm-seeing life is off limits." She stated firmly, leaving no room for debate on the matter.
"Very well, I propose a question." Black Panther chimed in. "Of all the Avengers, you are the newest. Tell us about yourself, Carol. What kind of schooling do you have?"
"Oh there's not much to tell." Miss Marvel confessed. "I went into the Air Force right after graduating."
"Straight to the academy, eh?" Cybernaut remarked, earning a nod from the heroine.
"You have been there all your life, yes?" Panther inquired.
"Up until now." Carol answered. "I know mister IT over there has done everything a tech-guy could do. What about you, T'Challa? What kind of schooling did you have?"
"Contrary to popular belief, I was not merely raised within the royal court." The Wakandan began. "My uncle N'Baza was far ahead of his time and a firm believer in education as any man could be. When I was of age, he made sure my father sent me to the best schools in Europe, to ensure I was well-versed in the ways of the world outside Wakanda's borders. He always said 'who knows what destiny may hold in store for any of us, especially the heir to the throne'. I believe not even he could have guessed that, one day, I would come here to spend half my days helping mankind as an Avenger and the other as the the king of Wakanda!"
"Do you ever miss it?" Carol gently inquired. "I mean, surely you were just the prince before you become an Avenger. Do you ever miss that life?"
"They were simpler times. But life can only be so simple for a time. Complexities are how the day to day often unfolds and if we cannot rise to meet them, then our lives are meaningless." Black Panther sagely responded. "To answer your question, Miss Danvers, sometimes I do miss my life being the son of my father, free to explore the borders of our lands. But I do not regret the path I have chosen. The Black Panther is no longer a symbol for just Wakanda. I am a symbol to the world that Wakanda shares the sense of justice, peace and freedom that the Avengers champion."
Alone in a dingy, low-budget motel room, 'Ant-Man' grew to full size and tossed the satchel of money onto his bed, along with his helmet. Taking a seat and exhaling loudly, he rubbed his temples and hoped for a peaceful evening. He had a lot on his mind and right now, he just needed to sleep. The nightmare would be over soon, or so he desperately wished. Right now-
The old wooden door to his room collapsed inward, shattered into a hail of splinters that caught 'Ant-Man' off guard and knocking him to the floor as the big boot of Luke Cage preceded the arrival of the Heroes for Hire with Hank Pym in tow.
"I'm going to give you one chance to end this peacefully," Hank declared, flanked by Iron Fist and his brawny partner. "I suggest you-" Suddenly stopping in his tracks, Hank froze for a moment as he laid eyes on the exposed face of the thief. To his shock, he realized he knew the man. "Scott?" He gasped.
"You know this guy?" Luke wondered.
"Scott Lang. He's the maintenance man for my lab at Greyburn." Hank explained once he'd gotten over his shock. Scott swallowed nervously and tried to explain himself.
"D-Doctor Pym, I-"
"Why?!" Hank shouted, grabbing Scott by the scruff of his costume and slamming him into the nearest wall with enough force to crack the window there. "Why have you done this? People could've been hurt by my work!" He bellowed.
"I'm sorry!" Scott cried, eyes wide with fear. "I don't want to hurt anyone, I-" Silence by the sound of a ringing cellphone, Scott shoved Hank away and scrambled to grab his personal one. "Hello? I've got it. I've got the money." He hurriedly answered. "Please, don't hurt-" An audible click on the other end was enough to silence Scott then and there, the thief dropping his phone as he fell to the bed in an exhausted heap, groaning as he held his head in his hands.
"Mister Lang? Scott? What's going on here?" Iron Fist gently inquired. It took a moment for Scott to find the words. When he did, he spilled his guts to them all.
"You wouldn't know this, but I used to be an electrical engineer, a pretty good one. But then my daughter got sick." He began, reaching for the nightstand where the photograph of a young, smiling blonde-haired girl sat. "She had a rare disease and there was a doctor… she needed money to finish the cure. A lot of money. I got involved with some bad people, people who thought I could put my engineering skills to use opening bank vaults. Turns out they were right."
"And you gave it all up to mop floors?" Luke Cage wondered.
"Not exactly." Scott said quietly. "I got caught. But I did my time, and Cassie got better. But when I got out… there weren't a lot of engineering jobs for ex-cons, so I took the janitor position at the college. I didn't care, all that mattered was that Cassie was alive." He emphatically described. "But then my old partner from the bank jobs found me. William Cross." Hank's head jerked slightly in recognition of the name. "I never told him that I used all the money for Cassie's treatments. He thought I hid it before I got caught. He thought I still had it and he wanted his cut!" Scott exclaimed. "If I didn't give him what he wanted, he said he'd… h-he'd…" Losing his composure, Scott fought back tears as he recalled the lingering threats Cross had uttered. He was backed into a corner, Cross was holding Cassie hostage. Scott had no say in the matter if he wanted Cassie to go unharmed. "I didn't have time to research and pull off a bank job, but… I knew who you were, Doctor Pym. The work you did in that lab, it was amazing. And I knew I could sue your equipment to get what I needed fast."
"Why didn't you come to me? I could have helped." Hank asked.
"Forget that. You should have just gone and taken these chumps out." Luke urged. "Go all 'Ant-Man' on them and save your daughter." Scott balked.
"Are you crazy? I'm no superhero!" He sputtered. "I'd just be putting Cassie in more danger. No police, no heroes. This is my daughter's life we're talking about." He stated firmly.
"We can help you, Scott." Hank offered.
"No." "No one can help me." With that, he shoved Hank out of the way and hurriedly grabbed both the Ant-Man helmet and his satchel of money before either of the Heroes for Hire could react.
"No!" Hank cried, lunging to try and tackle Scott only to miss him as a burst of golden Pym Particles shrank him to a minute size and Hank sailed through them, crashing into the bed. Luke moved to try and intercept, searching for some sign of an ant taking flight.
"Danny! You got 'im?" He wondered. The sound of breaking glass interrupted them.
"I'm guessing he went out the window." Iron Fist sardonically remarked, spying the shattered panes in the wall.
"What now, Pym?" Luke queried as Hank dusted himself off.
"William Cross has been on an Avengers Watchlist for some time. He's supposedly retired, given up his life as the mercenary marksman 'Crossfire' due to old age." Pym answered. "Scott's right, he's no one to take lightly."
"So?" Luke pried, crossing his arms.
"So before we go stop him, we need to stop by my lab and pick up a little something." Hank responded.
Meanwhile…
Darkness had fallen, the sky reduced to inky black lit only by fluorescent streetlights and the odd lamp hanging over doorways. The trio of Avengers remained alert and attentive as they watched the resident jewelry shopkeeper bustle around his closing time routine.
"Van! Coming in from the right!" Cybernaut whispered, urging his two allies to stay low and watch with him.
"You think its them?" Miss Marvel asked curiously.
"First vehicle we've seen in two hours, there's a very good chance its them." The technopath replied. Black Panther used the enhanced vision options stored in his eyepieces to get a better look at the approaching vehicle.
"There are seven occupants. Two in the driver and passenger seat, five more in behind." He described, reading off infrared signatures.
"Not a conventional way to move people around…" Cybernaut mused. They continued to watch as the van slowed to a halt in front of the jewelry store, quickly disgorging a most eccentric collective. "Nor is that a conventional way to dress." The technopath remarked.
"What on Earth are those getups?" Miss Marvel wondered, sounding aghast. "That guy looks like he's from the eighteen-hundreds! Is that a ship captain? A cowboy? Janet would have a field day poking fun at those choices. Just who are these clowns?"
"No clowns but definitely a crew of wannabes." Cybernaut determined.
"Indeed. It appears these attempts at costumes are their way of creating a gang of thieves." Black Panther agreed. "The masked man in green appears to be their ringleader." Taking note of a man in a hood, his entire much more in line with the idea of a 'costume' than the rest.
"Right, watch for the guy dressing like a villain and not the guys who think it's Halloween. Well, let's just wait and catch them in the act then." He decided.
"Now?" Carol wondered, sounding eager.
"Not yet," T'Challa cautioned with a raised hand, "there must be sufficient evidence to prove their guilt. We must catch them while they attempt to rob the store." The Avengers paced themselves, watching as the cream of seven armed themselves with various firearms before they entered the jewelry store.
"Now?" Carol asked.
"Now." Cybernaut affirmed, brandishing his irons and forming twin batons.
"Finally!" The heroine exclaimed, taking flight as photonic energy enshrouded her fists.
Meanwhile, the hapless store clerk was quickly taken hostage by the Split-Second Squad as the majority of the crew began sacking his store for gems and jewels. "Hurry up, you pack-rats! We've got a schedule to keep!" The man in green ordered, waving a heavy-duty pistol around.
"Goodness me, boss! No need to make a fuss, we always keep to schedule." A man with long thin hair and a drum magazine fixed to his weapon responded.
"You'd better be! There's no margin for error. The Split-Second Squad is always on time!" His boss remarked.
"Boy, if that's the case, you guys are gonna love prison." A new voice announced. "I hear they're all about punctuality." The Split-Second Squad whirled around in surprise, many of them dropping their jaws at the sight of Black Panther, Miss Marvel and Cybernaut in the jewelry store.
"Kronus…! B-Boss! Look!" The man in 1800's garb exclaimed. 'Kronus' turned around, eyes narrowed in scrutiny as he sized up the heroes.
"Avengers!" He hissed. Kronus' gaze swept around the room at his gang, frozen in fear. "What're you mooks waiting for? Gorilla Joe! Cap'n Skragg! Onionhead! Pecos! Deal with them while Pinstripe, Sweet William and I grab these jewels." At his word, the ship captain, a deckhand, the cowboy, and a brutish full-bearded man moved on the Avengers, weapons at the ready. Cybernaut was already moving, lashing out with his magnets and forcing the guns of Gorilla Joe and Cap'n Skragg to the side before he whipped his irons ahead and smacked them in the temples. Black Panther, proving his acrobatic nature, vaulted over a glass display case and plowed feet-first into the dim-witted Onionhead. Miss Marvel floated over to the cowboy-inspired Pecos who aimed a pair of six-shooter revolvers in her direction.
"Now you see here, missy! These gems are ours, no questions asked! You heard hoss! I'd hate to mess-up such a beau-tee-ful face." He remarked. Carol grinned, her body flashing brightly as she channeled her abilities.
"I doubt my face will be the one getting messed up." She retorted, unleashing a two-handed energy blast that propelled Pecos across the floor and sent him crashing through the back wall, much to the shopkeeper's dismay.
"Fools! Can you not perform a simple task?" Kronus roared. "Cap'n Skragg! Remedy this situation!" He ordered curtly.
"Aye, sir." The one dressed like a captain complied with a quick salute. "Onionhead, matey, use your gas gun on Cybernaut!" Picking himself up off the floor, the sweater-clad ruffian withdrew a specially-shaped pistol from his belt and quickly fired a burst of noxious gas at the nearby technopath. Having no defence against such an airborne weapon, Cybernaut was reduced to a gasping, coughing wreck as he choked on the fumes plugging up his lungs.
The duo thought themselves successful, but Black Panther was already rushing to his friend's aid. A Vibranium dagger whistled through the air and knocked the gas gun free from
Onionhead's grip, while a spinning tornado kick clocked the thing across the jaw and rendered him unconscious. Skragg scrambled for a weapon, only for a lunging punch from Black Panther to put him down alongside his first mate.
As Cybernaut stumbled from the fumes, hacking and coughing as he waved away the noxious cloud, he was attacked fomr behind by the burly Gorilla Joe, the bearded fiend quickly trapping him in a headlock and squeezing fiercely. "Marvel!" Connor wheezed. "Little help?" In response, Carol bolted over and landed a powerful blow to the cheek of Gorilla Joe, a blow so strong it sent him flying into a nearby display case. Shards of glass showered the floor as Joe fell to the ground, dazed and confused, rubbing his jaw. A bolt of photon energy between the eyes dropped him for good.
"Confound these Avengers!" Kronus bellowed, now running out of options. He shoved his thin-haired comrade forward. "Give them a taste of your firearm, Sweet William! Pinstripe! Hurry it up, will you?!" He ordered crisply.
"Oh deary me, Avengers. I do detest violence. But when Kronus speaks, I jump!" William bemoaned, lifting his rifle and opening fire with a steady stream of full-auto rounds. Panther dove for cover as shells punched holes in the floor, walls and display cases, while Marvel took flight and force William to track her, riddling the roof with impact rounds as he did. It was the perfect ploy and allowed the team technopath to take action.
Swooping in from the side, Cybernaut thrust out his hand and forced William's gun from his hand with a magnetic blast, before whipping a staff forged from his irons around to knock the thug to the ground. But there were still two left to deal with. Moving quickly, Cybernaut then turned and launched a flying knee that caught Pinstripe on the jaw before he could properly react, dropping down and slamming his staff into his skull to ensure he posed no further threat. With both Sweet William and Pinstripe disposed of, Cybernaut whirled around and held Kronus at the end of his staff.
"Time's up, Kronus." He announced as Miss Marvel and Black Panther converged. Flexing his free hand, the strength of his magnets plucked the ringleader's pistol from his grip, disarming him and putting him at a severe disadvantage.
Surrounded by the three, his entire crew a groaning, limp mess on the ground, Kronus struggled to respond. Before he could, Carol wound up and clubbed him across the face with an energized fist, knocking him out cold and adding him to the pile of defeated goons. The Avengers loosed a collective breath as the fighting subsided and surveyed the scene, pleased with their work. "Say! That took about fifteen minutes!" Cybernaut realized with a grin, spying the time on a nearby wall clock that hadn't been shot or destroyed.
"In the same amount of time it took them to terrorize businesses, it took us just as long to defeat them." Panther mused, noting the irony. "Now no shop owner will have to worry about being plagued by the Split-Second Squad."
"All in a days work, right?" Miss Marvel wondered as she took a moment to stretch.
"You said it." Cybernaut concurred. "And now to wait for the police, if they haven't tripped the alarm already."
Elsewhere…
Within an inconspicuous warehouse, William Cross met with his crew of fellow villains. The older conspirator was dressed more like a leader and less like a notorious criminal marksman. His Crossfire costume long discarded, William Cross wore a trim and proper black suit, his tie clip sporting his signature crosshair symbol that matched the advanced targeting optic that replaced his left eye and was connected to his artificial audio sensor that replaced his left ear. Around him, two of six who comprised his crew stood by, waiting for his word. Twirling one of his handguns around, toying with the weapon, Crosshair smirked. "It won't be long now." He mused aloud. "I've known your dad a long time, little Cassie. And Scott Lang always comes through." Before him, tied to a chair, the young Cassie Lang whimpered while flanked by a pair of deadly customers.
While dressed in simple street garb, his mechanized left arm ended in an eponymous mace instead of a hand. Gideon Mace was a long-time thug and goon for hire, having fallen in with Crossfire's group only recently. Like the rest of his motley cohorts, he floated around the criminal underworld and joined whoever promised him a big enough cut.
The other was much simpler. He had no powers, no training, not even a notable history. He was a criminal enforcer, plain and simple. But his brawn and sheer power compared to other men is what separated Benjamin 'Big Ben' Donovan from the rest.
"Cross!" Jerking up at the mention of his name, William smiled as he watched Scott enter his office, flanked by the rest of his crew.
Dressed in a black trench coat, his face was half-organic, half-metal. His entire jaw and mouth were comprised of a steel incisors, capable of biting through solid materials that took far bigger machines to rend. This ghastly visage is what earned Raymond 'Piranha' Jones his moniker.
With a two-pronged spear in hand and an arsenal of darts for his speargun, 'Spear' seemed an appropriate alias for Jasper Daniels.
Although he looked harmless, even innocent to an extent, Dontrell 'Cockroach' Hamilton was a mean customer and an expert with a stolen double-barreled charged-photon shotgun.
Ramón García was a special kind of super-crook, having manufactured his own power suit that used built-in discus generators to send high-voltage electrical currents to his energized knuckles. As such, he hired himself to anyone who could meet his fee, taking the alias 'Señor Muerte' whenever he worked with a crew.
"See? I told you. Scott Lang is nothing if not reliable." Crossfire chuckled.
"I've got the money, Cross. Let her go. Please." Scott stated, tossing down the satchel full of stolen bills. Eyeing the money, Crossfire was pleased. But as he gazed upon his master thief, his eyes narrowed.
"Lang? What are you?" He wondered, examining the red and black costume he wore. Cross knew that look, the regulator belt gave it away. "Is this a joke? Are you Ant-Man?" He wondered, rising from his desk to get a closer look. Scott swallowed nervously.
"Cross… William. Please." He begged.
"Ant-Man…" Cross realized with a growing smile. "You should've told me!" He cackled. "Could you imagine what we could've been doing all this time? There's no vault we couldn't get into, no secret we couldn't steal!" The possibilities were running rampant through his head and were enough to make his crew grin as well. "Scotty, my boy, we're going to be very rich men." Cross promised. But Lang shook his head.
"No. You got the money, that was the deal. Let Cassie go." He countered. Cross promptly spun the girl's chair around, ensuring father and daughter were face to face. He perched behind, pistol hanging dangerously close to Cassie as she whimpered in fright.
"Guess what, 'Ant-Man'? The deal just changed." He retorted to Scott's horror. "I've got my very own superhero now and I'm not letting that opportunity go to waste." He stated with a wicked, toothy grin.
Suddenly, a crate came crashing through his office window, thrown from the warehouse floor. The crew jerked around, as did Scott, who blinked in surprise as Hank, Iron Fist and Luke Cage made their presence known. "I'm afraid I can't let that happen." Hank called out to Crossfire.
"No! Get out of here! I told you to stay out of this!" Scott cried out, restrained by Spear and Senor Muerte.
"And who are you three supposed to be? The Avengers?" Cross retorted.
"Yeah, we're the Avengers." Luke remarked. "I'm Captain America. My friend in the pyjamas is Thor." He introduced with much snark, gesturing between himself and Iron Fist. "Now how about you back off the little girl before we avenge you upside the head?!" He threatened.
"Pym…?" Scott queried warily.
"Everything is under control, Scott." Hank promised.
"Oh really…" Cross mused, raising his weapon and cocking the hammer, "I'm confused, because the last time I checked, I had the girl." He said. "I hold all the cards."
"I disagree." Hank responded, reaching into his lab coat to withdraw a uniquely-shaped pistol which he promptly aimed at Cassie and pulled the trigger.
A single Pym Disc shot through the air and struck Cassie in the chest, a sudden burst of golden Pym Particles shrinking her out of sight and out of any immediate threat Crossfire posed. "No!" Scott exclaimed, breaking free of Spear and Muerte as he used the regulator belt to shrink down in pursuit of his daughter.
Crossfire's thugs wasted no time pursuing the Heroes for Hire, Luke Cage manhandling Gideon and Cockroach while Iron Fist took to pummeling Piranha Jones before squaring off with Senior Muerte. The sizzling crackle electricity from his knuckles buzzed around Iron Fist as he ducked and dodged every punch thrown by the super-crook until he grabbed Muerte by his vest and performed a rolling throw, pitching him into one of several piles of crates.
Spear unloaded rounds from his gun into Cage, each one shattering on impact with his unbreakable skin. Seeing his weapon was useless, Jasper discarded it and drew his two-pronged spear, lunging at Luke Cage and attacking with vicious thrusts. Catching his weapon in one hand, Luke snapped it with his elbow before grabbing Spear and throwing him across the room.
Ducking and dodging heavy blows from Gideon Mace, Iron Fist bobbed and weaved as Gideon's signature attachment punched massive holes in crates all around the warehouse. Vaulting to the top of a particularly high stack, Fist allowed Mace to weaken the lower box and gracefully somersaulted over the crook as the tower of crates collapsed on him, Iron Fist landing nimbly on his feet no worse for wear.
Cockroach Hamilton got back in the game by opening fire on Luke Cage, pounding his body with dense particle rounds from his shotgun. The repeated salvos tore his shirt and hoodie to pieces and it took a single crate sliding across the floor at top speed to put the thug down, slamming him into the wall with enough force to knock him unconscious. Luke wasn't finished yet as Piranha Jones made his appearance known by grabbing Cage's arm and biting into it with his enhanced mechanical jaws. The end result, however, was the shattering of metal as Jones broke his apparatus against Cage's skin. Luke grinned at his frightened expression, grabbing Jones by the collar and hurling him across the room where he slammed into a pile of crates, crushing them under his body.
Big Ben moved to act by barreling towards Iron Fist, picking up speed like a human freight train as crates crumbled under his feet and were splintered by his flailing hands. Focus and unfazed, Iron Fist concentrated his chi and drew back his right fist, his entire forearm aglow with supernatural energy as his skin was hardened more than any diamond could ever hope to be. The moment Big Ben was mere inches from him, threatening to bowl him over, Iron Fist lashed out with a single punch. The blow was so strong, Ben was lifted off his feet and sent hurtling across the entirety of the warehouse, through four stacks of crates, and out the wall on the other side, tumbling to an unconscious heap out on the street.
Hank dove for cover as Crossfire opened up with his personal machine pistol, a plethora of energy rounds punching holes in walls and crates as the ex-Avenger struggled to find a vantage point. "You should've stayed out of this heroes!" Crossfire bellowed as he reloaded his weapon. "You have no idea who I am!" Elsewhere, Scott grew to full-size with Cassie in tow, the two safe for the time being.
"Dad? Can we do that again?" Cassie wondered with wide bright eyes full of excitement. Scott smiled an breathed a sigh of relief.
"Maybe later. I need you to stay right here, Cassie. Do you understand?" He urged, slipping on the Ant-Man helmet. "Daddy's got something he has to do." A burst of yellow particles shrank him down and Scott made a beeline for Crossfire. "I know exactly what you are, Cross! And I've had enough of you!" He shouted, belting the unsuspecting villain with a blow to the face so powerful it lifted the full-grown man off his feet and slammed him into a wall. Dropping to the floor, Cross barely had time to get his bearings before he spied a tiny man standing on the tip of his nose. "You will never threaten my daughter again. Do you hear me?" Scott growled.
"Or what?" Cross scoffed. In response, Scott activated his helmet's communication gear, putting out a call to the millions of ants across the warehouse… who all converged on Crossfire. Freaking out, William scampered to his feet and began swatting at the countless and crawling over his body, struggling to escape until he ran into Hank.
"You're not going anywhere." Pym promised as Cross backed away from him, only to run into a full-sized Ant-Man who belted him with a hard left hook that knocked him out cold. Both breathed a sigh of relief, thankful the crew had been dealt with and the fight was finished.
"Dad!" Cassie cried, springing from her hiding place to embrace her father. Scott caught her up in his arms, hugging her close.
"It's okay. It's okay. I'm here." He whispered soothingly. He paused, looking to Hank. "I thought I'd lost her." He confessed. "When you shrunk her I thought she was gone forever, like the money."
"The discs you used were prototypes. The one I used one Cassie wasn't." Hank explained simply, holding out the refined and finished disc launcher.
"Thank you." Scott whispered gratefully. "I'll hand over all your equipment and then turn myself in." He promised. Hank stopped, studying the pair for a moment. Everything Scott did had not been from a heart hellbent on the criminal path. His mindset wasn't even dedicating to the same ill-gotten gains Crossfire was so committed to collecting. Everything he did was for his daughter, misguided or otherwise.
"Ant-Man was on an undercover mission for the Avengers. They'll explain the bank robberies to the police." He determined to the contrary. Scott blinked in disbelief.
"I-I don't…" He stuttered, lost for words. "I'm not Ant-Man."
"You are now." Hank replied, relinquishing the mantle to someone he deemed far more adept at carrying the name. With that, the professor walked off, content to see the situation laid to rest. The future of Ant-Man truly was in better hands now, someone who was committed to dirtier work than he had the stomach for. Maybe Scott would find his way into the ranks of the Avengers as a suitable replacement. Maybe not. Either way, Hank was convinced the world would still have Ant-Man.
"For someone claiming not to be a superhero, you're pretty good at it. Want a job?" Iron Fist inquired of Scott, seeing potential for another member of the Heroes for Hire. Luke had other, more pressing thoughts on his mind.
"Yo! Pym! Where should I send our bill?" He called after Hank.
It wasn't long after the three Avengers had rounded up and bound the members of the Split-Second Squad that local police arrived, responding to reports of gunshots. Grateful investigators hauled off the thieves in the back of a police van, hoping to perform some additional tracking with the Squad's confiscated van to find out where the other stolen loot was.
Standing off to one side and surveying the scene, Connor felt a measure of pride in this accomplishment. He certainly felt better and believed his comradrie with Carol and T'Challa to be partly responsible for his lifted spirits. This was just the thing to get him going again. Feeling quite pleased with himself and his teammates, the feeling remained until he felt a ripple in his senses.
Technology, that much he knew. But it felt very direct, specific. It was a sensation that was familiar to him, like hair standing on end and the innate sense someone was looking at you. This was much the same, except Connor had acute practice whenever he smiled for family portraits and could sense the internal workings of the camera aimed at his face. It was so familiar and jarring that he turned around, staring at empty rooftops and darkened businesses for signs of something. This wasn't just the roaming sweep of some security camera, this was far more deliberate.
Something… or someone, was watching them. Him.
Carol floated over, Connor so engrossed in searching with his senses that he failed to notice her approach. "What is it, Connor?" Miss Marvel asked, noticing his distant stare.
"I… I'm not sure." He confessed after a time, blinking as he returned to the here and now. "It feels like technology, surveillance equipment, pointed right at us." He revealed. "I swore I felt something similar back when we were dealing with Ronan at the plaza. But there was such a crowd I brushed it off. But now… now it's too acute to ignore."
"Do you see anything?" Carol asked, squinting as she scanned their surroundings.
"No." Connor admitted with a exhale.
"I'm sure it's nothing." Carol promised, attempting to assuage his worries. Then she threw her arm around his shoulders. "Hey, I did pretty good today for my first day on the job!" She remarked with a smile. "Wouldn't you say so?" Pushing his concerns aside, Connor returned her smile.
"Maybe a little heavy-handed, but I'd say you're certainly Avengers material." He replied. "I think I see what Tony saw in you. You're definitely a great in-field asset."
"Cybernaut speaks truly." T'Challa agreed, joining them as the police wrapped up their work. "When it comes to current standing and opportunities to grow, you are everything he says you are, Miss Marvel."
"Means a lot coming from some original members." Carol beamed, throwing her other arm around T'Challa. "Come on, boys. Let this Major treat you to some drinks. I'm in the mood to celebrate." Relenting to her generous offer, the two men walked off down the street with Miss Marvel's arms draped around them, as only Avengers could.