Variant Strain

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"Why was that unexpected?" Peter asked slowly.

"I thought it would be Ed Whelan or Cletus Cassidy." Hank replied, his synthezied voice bland and the animated little face tilted slightly as though pantomiming a shrug with no shoulders. "How did you know my name?"

It was Peter's turn to shrug... and he felt silly for doing so... but then again, maybe whatever app he'd just run on his phone had taken over the camera as well. "Found a picture of you online. Right before the Middletown, Arizona fire."

"Ah. Yes. Middletown." The synthetic voice seemed... exceptionally flat at that.

"That was you, though, right? Henry Pym? You were some sort of molecular biologist, I think."

"Yes. But that was a long time ago." Hank synthesized voice was somehow distant. Haunted. Peter wasn't sure how he'd managed that. The animated face had stopped moving.

"Almost fifty years." Peter replied, his voice turning speculative. "The reports said no one survived that fire."

"Three people survived what happened, Peter." Hank said and Peter got the distinct impression he didn't mean the fire. "You know who the Thunderbolts are?"

"Yeah. Well... sort of. The guys in the beekeeper outfits."

Hank made a harsh laughing noise. "Yes. They were what became of the original First Biohazard Threat Unit. Middletown gave their first commander his nickname. 'Let your plans be dark and impenetrable as night, and when you move, fall like a thunderbolt.""

"Sun Tzu." Pete said.

"Yes. You've read Art of War?" Hank seemed pleasantly surprised.

Peter smiled thinly, "History Channel, actually, but what does that have to do with--?"

"The Thunderbolts have a mandate to control and contain Hydra outbreaks. This purpose came about in the wake of what happened in Middletown. They took custody of the three survivors. Well... two of us, anyway. Bruce wouldn't go quietly. He went down fighting." Hank's synthetic tone had gone flat and uninflected once more.

"I'm sorry." Pete replied, not sure what else to say. Not quite sure what to ask next.

"As I said. Middletown was a long time ago." Hank said flatly. "But there are questions that need to be answered in the here and now. Do you know what happened to Ed Whelan, Peter?" Hank asked.

Peter frowned at the sudden change in subject, "No clue."

"Why did you have his login code then?" Hank asked.

"I just knew it." Peter replied defensively.

Well, that's not suspicious at all, His voice drawled.

We probably shoulda called yer girlfriend for a good lie to use, Cletus said slyly.

He flailed for a possible segue to a completely different topic and this time, undistracted by his hormones, an obvious one occurred to him. "You bypassed the lockdown in Bellevue for me."

"Yes." Hank's little face nodded at that.

"Why?" Peter's was flat with suspicion. "Why let me out? Why send me those warnings?"

"Because Thunderbolts containment protocol mandates your immediate destruction."

"Uh... say again?" Peter asked worriedly.

"I saw your fight with the Hunters on camera," Hank replied. "You're clearly infected with Hydra, however, you aren't showing any of the classic infection patterns. You can speak rationally for one. You fought intelligently, if savagely, but that's understandable given the life or death nature of the struggle. You don't have any obvious physical mutations, but you're able to activate and deactivate them at will.."

Peter coughed uncomfortably. "I guess?"

"As a full infectee, especially given how dangerous you've shown yourself to be," Hank paused significantly at this point, causing Peter to flush in embarrassment. "Thunderbolt containment protocol is clear. You need to be destroyed. You're obviously far too dangerous to hold for study."

"If that's the case," Peter shot back, "Then why keep me away from them?"

"Because you're rational. Because, unless I'm mistaken, you've been infected for about three days now and you've managed to retain your mind and sanity without preliminary controls put in. I can't even begin to tell you how rare that is. Rare enough that the authors of the containment protocols didn't even bother providing an exception for it. Too risky, they thought, no matter the potential scientific gains--"

Peter frowned and interrupted, "Preliminary controls?"

Post-hypnotic suggestions and drugs, Cletus's voice supplied. Get those in before they put the collars on us. They didn't tell me 'bout that little fact when they were tellin' me I could avoid the chair.

The Hunter acknowledged, Doesn't always work, but when they do, they keep the infectees in line. Mostly.

"Not important, right now," Hank said hurriedly, or as hurriedly as a synthesized barely inflected voice could manage. "The Thunderbolts have their orders and no one in Oscorp or Gentek will listen to me. I need your help."

Peter made a noncommittal grunt. "What do you want?"

"They killed the cameras when the infectees began taking over the Gentek facility under Bellevue Hospital." He replied. "I couldn't see what was happening. I couldn't initiate an alert no matter what I suspected, unless I had a compelling reason to believe security had been compromised."

"When I used Ed Whelan's code, it gave you that opportunity." Peter mused aloud.

"Yes. Whelan was already a runner and believed dead. That was sufficient for me to trigger the necessary alarms. Unfortunately, by the time the Thunderbolt Response Team had arrived, all they cared about was cleaning up. They don't care how it happened, but it's important. I need to know what happened there."

"Why?" Peter shot back, "Look, Dr. Pym, I'll be happy to answer your questions, but I've got some of my own. I'd appreciate it if someone would actually tell me what's going on."

The synthesized voice gave the impression of a sigh and the animated face presented a neutral mask. Peter was sure now that Pym had to be consciously manipulating the face somehow and unless he was paying attention, the simulation didn't really match up to what he was actually experiencing. Ultimate poker face.

"What do you want to know, Peter?" The voice and accent changed. It was a recording from a movie, Peter realized. Anthony Hopkin's voice played through the phone. "Quid pro Quo-- I tell you things, you tell me things." There was a pause, then the voice continued, "Quid pro Quo. Yes or no?"

Peter replied guardedly, "You know, quoting Hannibal Lecter at me is really not the best way to get my trust."

"Maybe that was a little inappropriate." The voice sounded vaguely embarrassed. "I do not get much of an opportunity to talk to people. Not like this, I mean."

"I can tell," Peter muttered under his breath. "How do you know my mom?"

"I met her at Gentek. She was head of research in the biomedical division." Hank replied blandly. "I assist the Gentek research department in their work."

"Except you're somehow reachable through an Oscorp phone number," Peter said slowly.

Hank hesitated just for a fraction of a second, but it was obvious to Peter. "I... do not travel well. I work out of Gentek tower, but I assist people in many of Oscorp's subsidiaries."

Peter frowned as various facts lined themselves up in his mind. "You're on some sort of life support, aren't you, Dr. Pym? Ever since Middletown. That's why you have to speak with a synthesized voice. And why you can't travel?"

The animated face broke into a smile. "Well reasoned, young man. Your mother figured it out exactly the same way. I've worked with other people for years who never realized I was a real person and not some sort of artificial intelligence."

"Was my mom in that Gentek facility under Bellevue? Becase as far as I know, she died five years ago." Peter's voice was tightly controlled.

"Hold on, Peter," Hank said with simulated gentleness. "My question. I need you to tell me exactly what you saw in Bellevue. Was it just a mass infection as they are reporting it or was it..." He paused significantly, as though searching for the right word. "Organized?"

Peter didn't hesitate. "Jessica Drew was in charge. The card on her door said she was Subject two. Madame Hydra." He added, "She seemed surprised when I didn't do what she told me to."

The animated face went still once more. There was a synthesized muttering coming out of the phone and he thought it was cursing, but it was just random syllables. Maybe like someone hitting all the buttons on a keyboard at random.

"I was afraid of that." Hank's synthetic voice spoke after a minute, once more clear and unruffled.

Peter licked his lip as the obvious thought occurred to him, "You're Subject One aren't you?"

"Yes. Jessica was Johnathan's daughter. The only other survivor of Middletown."

"Why was my mother listed as Subject zero-seven-nine-seven?" He asked.

"Your mother was doing research for us... for Gentek. She was attempting to modify the Hydra virus." Hank replied.

"What does--? Wait... she made this thing?" Peter recoiled in disgust. That made no sense. "What would she--?"

"She did not. Hydra has been around in one form or another since World War Two. Longer if rumor is to be believed." Hank's voice took on more excitement and animation. "Understand, Peter. Hydra is tremendously transformative. Your mother was working on variant strains of Hydra designed to improve human bodies. Super-charge immune systems. Hunt down cancers. Repair cellular damage from radiation. Her team was on the brink of revolutionizing medicine."

Peter frowned, but that sounded more like the mother he remembered. "Then what happened?"

"There was an accident five years ago." Hank began, but was interrupted.

He snapped back. "I was told they died in an industrial accident. A fire. No bodies. Why was my mom under Bellevue? And I'm sure she was there up until just recently. Sleeping Beauty." He all but snarled.

"It wasn't a fire, Peter. Not initially. It was a containment breach. Mary Parker, Richard Parker and about a dozen other Gentek personnel were exposed to the raw Gamma Strain of Hydra.The same strain that caused the events in Middletown. Most people exposed simply become comatose and die. Your father went quickly. Unfortunately, a small percentage end up expressing the Marco Strain. Sleepers. They stay comatose. There's a tremendous amount of brain activity, but the infectee is completely non-responsive. Most sleepers don't last much beyond a year or so. Your mother kept beating the odds."

Peter's voice was choked, "And... and since she was infected you couldn't release her. You wouldn't telll anyone what happened. You just told us she died."

"I had no control over those decisions, Peter. For what it's worth, I'm sorry." Hank's voice did manage to sound sympathetic.

Peter fought the urge to just crush his phone. Instead he slammed his fist against the wall to try and relieve some of the pressure that the revelation had given him. He'd suspected it had been something of the sort. Suspected... but he'd hoped. There had almost been a chance.

He glanced down and noticed that he'd pretty much smashed a hole entirely into the wall and took a few deep breaths and forced himself to calm down. If he really wanted to go on a rampage there was a street full of cars right outside the alley...

And a mess of Thunderbolts just waiting to shoot something, doofus. His voice drawled back. Calm down. Think.

"You said she was surprised that she couldn't control you?" Hank asked, breaking into Peter's thoughts, scattering them once more.

He sighed and nodded. "It was hard not to obey. She had some sort of... I don't know..."

"Pheromones." Hank replied. "When she's awake, she exudes pheromones. Normally it's impossible to resist her. The infected obey her."

"But I managed it." Peter said, frowning.

"That makes you the only other man I know of who's been able to do so." Hank replied with a small smile of his animated face. "This is very bad."

"I know. I was there. She sent Hunters after me when I didn't do what she wanted." Peter continued.

"It's worse than you know, Peter." Hank replied. "The Thunderbolts who were on-site didn't find her. they assumed her body had been used as bio-mass to feed the Hunters. Or ended up as material for the viral moss." His animated face shook from side to side. "They've only ever known her as Madam Hydra. She hasn't moved or spoken since 1964. They weren't there. They didn't see what she was capable of." The animated face had gone still again.

Peter shuddered, remembering her. Remembering how she looked and how she smelled and how... easy it would have been to succumb to her allure. Whatever had happened in Middletown must have been spectacularly bad. The T-bolts seemed to like covering their mistakes up with fire. He was starting to pick up on the nuances of Hank's communication with his synthesized voice. If he had to guess... he'd have to say the man seemed completely terrified.

Hank finally continued, "The Thunderbolts will not have enough personnel to quarantine Queens. They've called in some local Marines to make up the numbers. More of their personnel will be arriving from Thunderbolt Mountain shortly and even with all that it might only just barely be enough."

"Except the blatantly obvious hive in the middle of Forest Hills is a diversion," Peter said slowly.

"You do not think she's there?" Hank asked sharply, the vocal tones came out uneven. "How do you..." He paused then asked, "You have a Tracker's abilities, don't you? You can sense them?"

"Yes." Peter admitted.

"Why do you say it's a diversion?"

"Because the Hive in the Forest Hills Police Station's the only Hydra presence in Queens. Meanwhile Manhattan's swimming in infected."

"That's impossible." Hank's voice said flatly. "The Trackers would have--" He stopped.

"No. They wouldn't." Peter came to the same conclusion that Hank obviously had. "They're Infected. Jessica can turn them to her side. That's why you were getting reports of rogue Trackers."

"We can't rely on the Trackers, then." Hank's voice continued to be flat, but Peter imagined he could hear an edge of desperation to his tone. When he spoke again, the synthetic voice was brisk. "Thank you, Peter. You've been a tremendous help. I will need to persuade the Thunderbolts commander that he's deploying his men in the wrong place."

"Um... glad, I could help, I guess." Peter replied.

"You will need to keep your head down and avoid the Thunderbolts patrols already in your neighborhood. I'll help you as much as I can, but you do understand why keeping Queens quarantined is important to them, yes?"

Peter said, "Yes, I do. They're just doing their jobs."

"Yes. Thunderbolts command believes you're Ed Whelan. Do not disabuse them of this notion if you can avoid it. They've gotten a handle on some of your capabilities but they are not aware as of yet that you can alter your appearance. Standard containment protocol dictates that they will also be taking control of local communications. They will be using software that diverts all signalling from the local cell towers to prevent people from using their cell phones."

Peter frowned, "So how are you going to--?"

"You have an Ultron Mobile phone now." Hank said with a small flash of pride. "It will work fine. When Oscorp designed the disruption software, they included a back door for their own communications. You will still be able to make and receive calls."

"Got it. So..." He paused not sure what to do next. "You really just want me to sit this out."

"Stay out of the blockaded area. The area around The Sandoval Deli and the Police Station, as well as all points in between are designated Red Zone. They are currently being surrounded by Marines and Thunderbolts personnel as we speak." Hank replied and there was a sigh to his tone. "I will need to persuade General Talbot and Colonel Jameson to move men away from the area to start a grid search of Manhattan without any Trackers." There was that explosion of muttered gibberish syllables once more.

"But I can..."

"Peter." Hank broke in gently, "I will have a difficult enough time convincing them to listen to me. It won't be any easier if I mention that a civilian infected has retained enough of his mind to want to help. They will kill you on sight."

Peter fought down his helpless frustration and asked, "What... what will happen to the people in the Red Zone?"

"No one will be allowed out unless they pass a Hydra screening. Those that do will be taken to a temporary relocation area outside the immediate danger zone." Hank replied.

"Trackers?" Peter frowned.

"No. Blood tests. But it will take a few hours to set that up. For now, they will simply prevent anyone from entering or leaving." Hank replied. "I really do need to go."

"I've still got a ton of questio--"

"I know you must have more questions about the Hydra, but there's no time. Jessica has been free since last night." Hank's voice had gone flat once more. "It took her less than a week to completely infect Middletown with the Littleville Fever. Ten thousand people. I don't have time to waste."

Peter swallowed nervously.

His phone chimed.

"If it will help keep you busy, I have sent a few documents to you that you might find interesting reading. They should help with a few more of your questions." Hank's animated face inclined slightly and he said, "I will be keeping in touch."

Then the connection dropped. His phone was still set up with the UltronMobileOS logos. He sighed, sliding down the wall til he was sitting on the ground and began tapping his way around the phone, familiarizing himself with the new interface before he made a call. In the confusion... he hadn't had a chance to check in.

He noted with surprise that the address showed up in a small window once he'd entered the phone number but right before he hit the dial button. A residential address only a few blocks outside the designated Red Zone. Actually, only a few blocks away from where he was. A billing address, he guessed.

"Detective Stacy?"

"Peter! Where are you? You disappeared when that thing--" The older man began, but Peter realized that he hadn't been spotted. He sighed in relief and replied.

"When it started getting crazy, I got caught up by the crowd. Everyone was running, I kind of got swept up in it. What happened to you? Are you okay?"

"Just swell," George said weakly. "Cuts and bruises. A sprained wrist. Nothing major. The Thunderbolts arrived just after that thing ran off and some of them gave chase." His voice dropped, "Is there a specific reason how you were able to get a call through to me when no one else's cellphone seems to be working?"

Peter flinched mentally and considered telling him, but then again, how exactly would that have sounded. Cletus whispered into his ear and Peter replied to George, "Old Gentek emergency bypass code in my dad's stuff. Didn't think it would work. The T-bolts are keeping cellphones from working for the most part. I think I've got the only working cell phone in the area."

George grunted, "So... they wouldn't be too happy if they noticed that I have a working phone?"

"Probably not, sir."

"Alright then." George said, "Can you call Gwen? Let her know I'm okay? And make sure she made it out okay?"

"Sure."

The older man rattled off the phone number. "That's her cell. Let me know, alright?"

"I will."

"Damn. The beekeepers are getting some doctors to look us over. I'll talk to you later."

"Keep your phone on vibrate so they don't catch on." Peter offered.

"Good idea. Keep in touch."

Peter punched in Gwen's number and the same address showed on the display. The line beeped a few times, then went to her voicemail.

"Yeah," He drawled aloud staring at the phone. "That's not ominous at all."

The address blinked at him.

He sighed. It wasn't that far... and he needed to kill a little time before he could check in on everyone at the Watson house again. Or wait to hear from Dr. Pym. It wouldn't hurt if he looked in on Gwen for her dad, would it?

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