Marvel's Secret Invasion Prose Novel, page 27
“Good enough,” said Logan.
“All right,” said Peter. He hoped it hadn’t sounded as guarded as he felt.
Everyone looked at Clint. He raised his hands. “Hey,” he said, “if you’d been frozen in time alongside Steve after the war—”
“Actually—” began Barnes.
“—okay, if you’d been frozen for as long as Steve was, I’d be saying you were the only person who could take over. So… okay.” He lowered his hands. “But there’s only one Cap.”
“No argument here,” said Barnes.
“So, you gonna tell them the plan?” said Logan. “You brought us here because you got one, right?”
Barnes looked around the room, sizing them all up. “You’re Captain America’s Avengers, by which I mean Steve’s Avengers. So, if I’m Captain America now, this base is your home as much as mine. It has everything a base for our sort of people needs. And it’s completely off the books. So, at least while Osborn is in charge, this is Avengers headquarters. Because that name is yours, not his.”
“And, so, what, you think you’re going to be leading us, wing-head?” said Clint, but there was now a little bit of a wink to it.
“I think we elect a Chair, same as you always did.”
Peter felt the room had come around to what Barnes was saying, and, yeah, okay, he was on board with it, at least for now. Because was he ever going to need help once Osborn had the ability to send the resources of a whole nation after him. They might have, as a community, saved the world, but it felt like what awaited them in the aftermath of that was… more of the same spiraling crap they’d just been through. He just needed a win that felt like a win. One that he could keep in his heart when he was going through stuff like this, one where he could say “that’s what we do.” But still, in the meantime, under the circumstances, this sort of Avengers was as good as any other sort of Avengers. However, as he was about to voice his agreement, he realized that everyone was looking past him toward the entrance.
He turned and saw Jessica Jones, Luke and Carol stumbling into the room.
“They got the baby!” shouted Luke. “They got Danielle!”
FIFTY-THREE
JESSICA JONES
HORROR. EVERY parent’s nightmare, come true. Desperate, clawing, helpless anger and fear. Fear like nothing she’d ever known, even more than with Killgrave.
But inside that fear, fury and certainty and speed. She was not going to let her child down by not doing everything she could at every damn moment. They searched everywhere in the Tower, they used all its systems—even as government employees and law enforcement began arriving, with Carol fronting for them—to see if anything had registered on the security cameras, but the records had been erased. Finally someone arrived saying there was a warrant out on Luke, and Carol had flown them out through a wall. They tried a few of the more obvious places for a Jarvis to go, such as his former lodgings, where, horribly, the real Jarvis had answered the door and had to deal with Jess grabbing him. He had been so compassionate but no damn use at all. Then, they stormed places they thought Skrulls might be trying to gather. But no, no, nothing. She was a detective, and she couldn’t find a single lead to pursue. Finally, they’d decided that maybe their desperation, the fact that they couldn’t be dispassionate about this case, that their professionalism had fled, was getting in the way. So, they came to find the others.
Now she walked back and forth, back and forth, as Luke told them what had happened. “He could be any shape or size,” he was saying, “he could be anyone. Our baby could be dead, we…” And he stopped, his face completely still for a moment.
“She’s alive,” said Logan. “If he’d wanted to kill her, he could have done it there and then. He’s taken her as a hostage to barter with, to get off this planet alive. You got somethin’ of hers?” Jess had already thought of that. She’d brought with her Danielle’s Sally Seahorse, that was woolen and smelled comfortingly, awfully, of her. Logan took it from her, very gently, and sniffed it deeply. Then he looked at her and just nodded. “He’s mine,” he said. And she had never felt so supported.
“Okay,” said that new Cap, who, oh, was Bucky Barnes, she’d kind of already worked that out, she realized. “How about just for right now Luke is Chair in the field—”
“No,” said Luke.
“I’ll do it,” said Carol.
“—okay, and I think I know who we should go see.”
* * *
AS QUICKLY and stealthily as they could, they made their way over to the Baxter Building. Everyone, apart from Luke and herself, felt the need to go in costume, to be the Avengers again, off on a mission. And honestly that felt good. She’d pulled hers off in a second as soon as she’d found her own clothes back in the Tower, and she was never going to wear that thing again, but to have these people around them when they needed their friends the most… it was some small comfort against the horror that felt part of her now, that would only be healed by having Danielle back in her arms again.
Spider-Man, using a codeword, got them through the automated security. So that never changed, she noted distantly, even when Spidey and Reed were on different sides. Even given Reed’s amazing attention to detail. That was a small, lovely thing that was… not important now. They found the top floors of the building almost entirely a shell, a forcefield of some kind for a roof and walls in which a few small tents had been pitched, a camping stove between them. The tents were, of course, blue and had a 4 logo on them. Beside the tents there were already a bathroom and a kitchen, walls without a roof, making the whole place look like a film set. And at the sink in the kitchen, in her robe, getting herself a glass of water, there, thank god, was Susan Storm. “Sue,” shouted Jess as she ran in. “We need the Skrull detector!”
“Oh,” said Sue, clearly thinking this was normal super hero crap going on, “Reed’s asleep, how urgent is—”
“A Skrull has our baby,” said Jess.
Sue turned and bellowed to the tents. “Everyone up!”
* * *
WITHIN MINUTES, Reed Richards, in his blue pajamas, was using his long fingers at eight keyboards at the same time, his eyes literally on stalks as he checked out multiple screens in what was already an impressive scratch-built computer lab. “The good news is,” he said, “we’re still at a Code Red alert all over the country. That means airports are closed, and the bridges, tunnels and ferries in and out of New York are secured by the military. Fliers are being tracked and intercepted, so it’s a good thing you all came here on foot. That situation will remain the same as long as there’s a possibility of any Skrulls being out there. There have been no Skrull sightings since the clear-up after the battle. I hesitate to make assumptions, but I think one avenue we could usefully pursue is the theory that this Skrull Jarvis is still in the city with no way out. I’ve hacked some surveillance satellites and routed my Skrull scanner through them, and I haven’t yet seen any unidentified powered persons. We’ll get an alert of any shape-shift within the boundaries of the city. I’ve made sure the authorities know to be on the lookout.”
Jess still found that she needed to pace. “Okay. Great. That’s the safety net in place. Now what do we do in terms of active pursuit?”
“Let’s get out there,” said Carol, “all of us in our own specialties, shake some trees.”
* * *
THEY HAD maybe a day before Osborn got his dominoes in line and started getting in the way of super heroes going about their business, and they couldn’t waste a single moment. So Jess was there when Jessica Drew and Danny Rand took out a Hydra cell who were experimenting on what turned out to be a captured Skrull—not theirs—in a Brooklyn cellar. They left Hydra tied up for the NYPD and took the Skrull. She helped Clint and Bobbi break into Advanced Idea Mechanics and give Reed access to run the search using their version of tech, which went weirdly counter to his. Nothing new was revealed. She went down into the sewers with the rest of the FF, who negotiated with the underground communities of small, big-eyed Moloids. There were, she knew all too well, little corners of hell all over this city, people who’d hide anyone, for the right price.
And then they actually, incredibly, found something.
In the Baxter Building infirmary, the Skrull who’d been held by Hydra woke from his coma and, grateful and reconciled to the idea of surrender, told them he knew of one other Skrull on the run who he’d spent a few hours with after fleeing Central Park. That one had said he had a “vital bargaining tool” stowed safely nearby. Jess agreed to be called into the room only after Reed and Sue had explained the situation. She hadn’t had to do any acting to show the Skrull her desperation. The Skrull told them what new role his comrade was planning to pursue.
And so, in the early hours, she, Luke and Logan marched into the Classic, a midtown bar that kept odd hours and had a flying car in neon in its window, an old S.H.I.E.L.D. hangout.
It was full of S.H.I.E.L.D. officers, all of them still in uniform, the sort of party where they’d sent out invites saying, “last chance to wear the old gear.” There were trays of shots on the bar, and most of these guys looked blind drunk, while still having those big space-age weapons on their many belts and pouches. Someone had written something rude about Osborn on one of the chalk menus. The barkeep stared at Logan in his full X-Men costume, as he marched in, and a jukebox played some old country song. Within thirty seconds the place was completely silent apart from the music. Everyone in the place turned to look at them.
Except one woman sitting at the bar. She still had her back to them.
“You!” roared Logan, pointing at her. “Get up!”
“Crap,” said the small woman. She got off her stool and faced them. As her fellow agents started forward to get between her and the newcomers, she seemed to decide the hell with it and let her face shift into its Skrull form. The agents around her stepped back and drunkenly started drawing their weapons. “Please,” she said, “I don’t want this. I just want to live. I want to be one of you.”
Jess’ heart sank. Sure, you never knew where you were with a shape-shifter, in terms of gender or even apparent mass, but this did not feel like Jarvis to her.
“Guns down,” said Luke. “We need to talk to her.”
“Well excuse me, fugitive,” said one of the S.H.I.E.L.D. guys, we’ll take this from here. She’s killed and duplicated one of ours—”
“No,” the Skrull was shaking her head, “no, I made her up. I mean, this is the face of an actor. Who’s still alive. I just thought I could hide in plain sight, I’ve… I was a Skrull comms operator, I still have some of their tech, their codes, I was going to use it as a bargaining tool, if I could get to someone of rank—”
Oh god. There it was. Jess stepped quickly forward to where Logan sniffed the air around the Skrull, shaking his head. “It’s our baby,” she said, “do you know any other Skrull in hiding, one with a human baby?”
“I… wait a sec, I can’t think—”
Jess saw something in that expression, recognition. The sudden hope made her realize too late that this was a feint.
Suddenly, the Skrull transformed into some kind of propulsive bat/gazelle thing, a blur of fleshy wing and thrusting limbs. She leapt for the door.
Luke grabbed her on the way and threw her through a wall.
Within seconds, all three of them were on the Skrull in the parking lot. Luke grabbed her from where she had fallen, slamming her back into the ground and holding her there. “Jarvis!” he yelled. “You’ve seen him!”
Jess pushed past him to get hold of her. “Where did he go?!”
“I can’t say!”
“I just want to find my baby! Do you understand?! You lead us to him, and we will let you go! Okay?! We will let you get away!”
“Okay…” She started to get to her feet and this time she looked like she meant it. “Okay. He’s—”
The shot sent the Skrull’s head flying back. She was dead by the time she hit the ground.
Jess leapt up to see the S.H.I.E.L.D. guys standing there, exchanging high fives. Logan had to grab her and hold her back. “My baby,” was all she could say as Logan rushed them away, looking into Luke’s equally traumatized face. “That’s all we had. What else can we do?”
Luke suddenly looked away. “I… have an idea,” he said.
* * *
ALL IT took was a couple of phone calls.
By five o’clock in the morning they were sitting in an office, staring at the person Jess had ridiculously thought it would be hard for them to get an appointment with.
“Do you have kids?” said Luke. It was hot in the office, too hot. It was five in the morning and there was no light coming through the only window and it was already too hot.
“Yes,” said that calm, official voice. He wasn’t allowing himself an ounce of smugness. He must have known how much on a knife edge this was, that any hint of triumphalism on his part might end this. This weasel was good with people.
“Then you might understand how we feel here,” said Jess.
“Of course.”
“So. We’ve done everything I can think of, and now we’re coming to you for help.”
“I know how big a deal this must be for you both.”
“I’d appreciate it if you just… did this for us, just human being to human being,” said Luke.
“But…” said Jess, because there had been absolutely no change in the expression of the man across the table from them, and now she had crossed over that little gap of hope herself, damn it, there was no going back. “We understand if you won’t. We know you will probably want something from us in return.”
“Or perhaps just from me,” said Luke.
“Because I still don’t plan on returning to the business.”
“I wouldn’t need you to,” he said. “I’d settle for Mr. Cage leading this new team I’m putting together. Would you be willing to do that, Luke?”
“Yes,” said Luke quickly. “You have my word.”
“Then we have a deal.” Norman Osborn smiled at the other two inhabitants of the room, the professional assassin Bullseye and the alien monster symbiote called Venom, who, last Jess had heard, was bonded, sticky black goo surrounding human flesh, to the career criminal Mac Gargan. The last time Jess had heard about what Mac was up to, he’d been trying to murder the nearest and dearest of a news photographer. “Gentlemen,” said Osborn to the two horrors, “you may soon be working for this great man as Avengers, though not in your current guises, of course. Let’s go find his missing child.”
* * *
BY THE time they got to The Raft, the sun was over the horizon. Jess noted that Osborn’s officers in the helicopter already wore jumpsuits bearing what must be the chosen logo of whatever new organization Osborn was creating. A hammer. Bullseye and Venom were with them. “All the captured Skrulls were sent here,” said Osborn as they stepped from the helicopter onto the island. “We’ve only just begun processing them. We’ve identified a few from the higher ranks. We’ll start with two of those.”
“Why two?” said Luke, warily.
“Just the way I work,” said Osborn.
They were taken to an “interview room” that looked more like a storage cellar. In it sat two Skrulls in power-draining collars. Both had stoic expressions on their faces. “They won’t tell us anything,” said the guard at the door.
Osborn sat down in front of one of them, quite calmly. “What’s your name and rank? An honorable Skrull officer should be able to offer his captors that, surely?”
The Skrull didn’t say a word.
“Okay,” said Jess, “let me tell you why we’re—”
“Mac,” said Osborn.
Venom walked over, looked down at the other Skrull sitting in a chair, and in one move bit his head off. He flung it up into the air, caught it in his mouth and swallowed it. Green blood gushed everywhere from what remained of the corpse. Venom licked his lips with that enormous tongue of his.
Jess made eye contact with Luke, who was very visibly keeping himself under control. She grabbed his hand. They’d known what this was going to be. They were complicit in this now. And they would allow themselves to be. They’d learn from it. If it meant getting Danielle back.
“There’s a Skrull who was posing as Jarvis,” said Osborn. “Where is he?”
“We… we don’t all know each other.”
Osborn paused for a moment, obviously pleased that the Skrull was talking now. “We have seventy-four more Skrulls of similar rank in custody. Tell us something of value or we’ll get the next two in here.”
The Skrull paused for a long moment. There might, Jess thought, be something in their background that made the idea of being eaten, of their ever-changing bodies being consumed and changed against their will into part of another being, especially repugnant. She thought it was entirely possible Osborn had worked that out too. “There was… there was a meeting place,” it said finally, “where the advance team met and planned their operations.”
“Where?” said she and Luke together.
Osborn smiled.
* * *
JESS AND Luke hadn’t brought their phones along with them on this treacherous journey. They had made sure there had been nothing on them that might give away the location of their friends. Now they had a location and some surveillance intel, Jess, in her hotel room, still pacing, felt incredibly tempted to give this to the others, to have people she trusted follow this up. But no, no, this was the play. Luke was still asleep, or the half-sleep both of them were getting, the result of sheer exhaustion. She’d been beside him up to a minute ago, but now she had got up to stare out into the night. She checked the phone Osborn had given her, to make sure there wasn’t some new message from him. Nothing.
The warehouse the Skrull had identified as the meeting place turned out to be an old base of the criminal known as the Owl. Osborn had done well in setting up entirely covert eyes on the place, using some of the super-powered goons at his disposal. He’d found out, from the other Skrulls he’d “interviewed,” that there was a powerful teleportation device at that place: not just the short-range kind that they’d seen Skrulls use to hop around the country, but one that could take them back to, well, whatever extra-solar planet they were using for a base now they didn’t have a homeworld, or some ship way out of Earth orbit.
