Variant Strain

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"Everything," Peter repeated back weakly, then after a pause added, "That covers a lot of sins." He caught what he'd said and corrected himself, "Things. Covers a lot of things."

Bradley grunted at his hurried correction then inclined his head. "Manhattan. I need to know what happened at Gentek."

Peter scrubbed a hand down his face, feeling the uneven, lumpy tumors on the non-face there under his palm as he did so. He took a calming breath and did his best to keep his nerves under wraps. He glanced over to the soldiers who were looking for all the world as though they'd taken their ease, but Cain drew his attention immediately to the tense attention the gunners had kept on him.

"That's... still a lot of ground to cover." Peter replied uncertainly, lowering his voice to keep the conversation between just the two of them. "Something more specific, maybe?"

Bradley's eyes narrowed and he sighed. "How about the Hive? The one you claimed was Hank Pym."

"Um... Sure. What do you want to know?" He asked carefully.

Bradley gave an explosive huff and ground out in an exaggerated level tone, "What was it doing there? In the middle of Manhattan?"

Peter held his hands up, "Sorry. I'm not trying to be difficult. I just really don't know what you need to know! And frankly, everything I know was what Pym told me."-- Or what you personally ripped out of his mind. Same difference-- "He got moved out there by Thunderbolts Command. In the Nineties. No one explained to him why he had to be moved, just that they were expecting him to keep working with infected after he got moved. Do research. Keep them under control. That sort of thing."

Bradley's brows drew down and he glowered at Peter, "Pym's supposed to have--" He stopped and gave Peter a searching look that Donna interpreted for him as the look of a man trying to figure out what another man actually knows. "-- limited mobility. We've had someone speak to Pym since the building collapsed. He claims he isn't in New York."

A noise, something between a snort and a derisive laugh bubbled up from the back of Peter's mind and he couldn't help the sarcasm in his tone, "Right. 'Spoke' to him. Pym had to generate his voice digitally."

Bradley gave a slight nod, his tone getting darker. "So you're saying someone was pretending to be him?"

"Pym was Gentek Tower," Peter replied. "It's not like he had a lot of control over where he was, seeing as he kind of had well... you said it yourself. Limited mobility."

Connors murmured, We might be able to trace that, if your phone still has all of Pym's backdoor access codes. Figure out who he actually spoke with.

Later, Peter thought back.

"He couldn't have been that size." Bradley graveled. "There was no way they could have brought something that large into Manhattan."

"He wasn't that big when they brought him in." More scenes flickered behind his eyes. Dimly remembered moments of-- clattering rails. Chuffing train engines. Wondering what had happened to the rest of his body. "They cut him down to size. Shipped him by train from Thunderbolt Mountain."

"He had to have been the biggest Hive I've ever seen. Even collapsed..." Bradley's eyes were hard, but Peter could see something behind them. Something haunted.

He stared at Bradley as more memories of a street in Middletown unrolled behind his eyes. Eyes. Eyes everywhere, seeing everything. His voice dropped. "Pym claimed he was the oldest Hive ever. No other Hive's as old as he is. Even the hive on Vozrozhdeniya Island never lasted as long." Peter wondered as the fact slipped smoothly between his lips.

"What's Vozr--" Bradley began to ask, but Peter raised a hand to forestall him.

"Sorry. The base for the Soviet Hydra program before they sold themselves to the US took their operations over and moved their stuff to Thunderbolt Mountain." He frowned as those facts drifted into his conscious memory and murmured absently, "Huh. I just realized. They moved Hank to Manhattan just a little after that time. I wonder if that's connected."

Bradley eyed him thoughtfully and that just ramped up Peter's worries. He covered up his own anxiety by talking even more, "As far as his possible growth, he was a statistical sample of one. We don't know his limits." He shrugged and was unable to stop the quip from escaping, "They fed him Manhattan sewage. I'm guessing it must've been really good for him if he ended up that big."

"Even if he was the building," Bradley's tone still wasn't quite convinced, but he was less certain now. "Something could have survived. Most hives don't survive a full collapse of the building they're in, but there was so much of him..."

"When it collapsed, Pym died." Peter's voice got rough, but there was no mistaking the sincerity in it. "I'm certain. When--" Pym "-- I told you guys to run, we were in his central nervous cluster. The seat of his personality. He'd already figured out a way to kill himself right before you arrived."

Bradley shook his head, "I checked after I heard your story, all our records show is that Hank Pym was working out of a secure facility where he's running classified research."

"Well," Peter hedged, "Gentek Tower was pretty secure. Right up til Jessica attacked, anyway."

At that point the Captain pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyebrows drawing even further down. "By Jessica, you mean Jessica Drew."

"Yes, sir." Peter replied.

"Wearing a blanket and looking like she was in charge of the infected down in that Hive." Bradley said grimly.

Looking like sex on two legs, Cletus murmured in Peter's mind absently.

Shut up, Peter thought back harshly. I'm trying not to tell him anything that's going to get us in trouble.

We're surrounded by soldiers, Cletus muttered, We're already plenty deep in trouble.

"The same person," Bradley continued, "The after-action reports for the Bellvue outbreak mentioned her specifically as an early casualty."

Peter frowned as text flashed across his mind. "Pym's reports were very clear about her survival and escape. He was told he was mistaken."

"Now that is interesting," Bradley replied slowly. "Who told him that?"

A flash of wordless rage crawled up Peter's spine for just a moment that he couldn't explain. It hadn't been Brian Watson. He shuddered as Connors dispassionate voice whispered, That was something of Hank's. You're going through his memories too much. Remembering too many of his emotional triggers.

Peter bit down on the snarl in his throat and muttered, "I... he... Pym was told it was direct from General Talbot, but all the responses came back through Colonel Jameson. Colonel John Jameson."

Even as he said the name, a few flashes of memory passed almost too quickly to see. He could almost feel Donna's ghostly fingers at his sleeve, trying to pull his attention away from them and back to the conversation.

Bradley snorted, "Funny. Colonel Jameson's the same one who told us that they were taking our report about the Manhattan outbreak 'under advisement'." He glanced around at the abandoned neighborhood. "Queens is in bad enough shape, but you'd think he would have at least kept Shield team in Manhattan to try and track Madam Hydra's mob down."

Peter frowned as he looked at Bradley. He glanced back to the rest of the Thunderbolts as a realization hit him. "He assigned you guys here." That was followed by the other conclusion that Bradley's tone had given him. "He doesn't know you're talking to me. None of your higher ups know you're talking to me."

Bradley smiled thinly, "I'm not confirming anything. I was simply told to 'exercise my discretion'" Peter could hear the quote marks in his voice, "In assisting operation in dealing with the outbreak."

"Oh, man." Peter licked his lips nervously, "You think your boss is up to something."

"Jameson's my direct superior, yes. General Talbot has overall command over the Thunderbolts, but the Colonel has been running the deployment here." Bradley replied carefully.

"So he's also the guy who sent the orders to withdraw into Manhattan." Peter said slowly, memories of consumed Thunderbolts soldiers already supplying the answer.

Bradley nodded slowly. "They were supposed to bomb Forest Hills once the troops and refugees were at a safe distance." His eyes glanced up unconsciously. "Except the Vultures kept taking out anything in the air that got too close."

"And you didn't have time yet to bring around anything that could hit them from longer range?" Cain's words bubbled up suddenly and asked in Peter's voice.

"I heard that some of the pencil pushers in Thunderhead saw how agile those Vultures were. Must've got worried one of those things could get their claws on something explosive they could drop on the refugees and our soldiers." Bradley graveled.

"The same ones who were going to Manhattan." Peter pressed.

"Seems like. A place with an unacknowledged outbreak." He pinned Peter with his gaze, "You showed up just in time to keep them from charging. If you hadn't, that mob would've had a clear run down the freeway then across the bridge to Manhattan."

Peter nodded back. "Even with most of the infected stopped, the rest were still chasing after you to the exclusion of anything else. Even when they could have... I don't know--" He gestured helplessly, "It almost seemed like the backup plan was to lure the infected in Queens into Manhattan."

Bradley frowned, but seemed to be considering it.

More thoughts and images flickered through Peter's mind. Statistics and growth patterns. Ones that had been calculated already. Old contingencies. He remembered Hank's willingness to let a few die if it would save more.

"I think that was exactly the plan." Peter said in a small voice. "They expected the infected to chase the retreat into Manhattan, that would have been a simpler containment scenario. Manhattan's already got a pre-existing outbreak. Acknowledged or not."

Bradley grunted and Peter could see him assessing the idea with clear distaste. "Yes. Blow the bridges, block the tunnels and everything's isolated. The personnel we have now would actually be enough to keep that isolated."

"That's--" Peter wanted to call it 'horrible'. Or 'inhuman', but a coldly analytical part of himself... a part the had been Hank Pym could see the logic. It was simple. It was straightforward. Admittedly it was a risk, but it was a better one than the possibility of a full-blown Hydra infection sweeping out from New York state to claim the Eastern Seaboard within a few weeks. Then the rest of the US within a few months. Weighting all those lives against the lives of everyone in Manhattan.

He shuddered.

Bradley grunted. "So, Jameson's got his own agenda."

"Or he's just being pragmatic and ruthless," Peter replied tonelessly. He blinked as conflicting memories at the associations with Jameson's name rose up, far too prominent to ignore now. "Pym... Pym really didn't like him." He blinked rapidly as more images flew through his mind.

-- orders, Doctor. There's no arguing with them." The polished military man in his salt and pepper crew cut and neatly fussy little mustache glowered at a dozen smaller eyes.

Hank's voice was harshly discordant and clipped as it was strung together by the computer dedicated to rendering his voice, "We don't even know if I can survive like tha--"

"It doesn't matter. Your relocation to New York is going to hap--

"Are you alright?" Bradley asked with sudden concern.

"Yes, fine. Sorry... just... remembering something." Peter shook his head. "I've... I think I have a lot of the pieces of what's going on, I've just been running around so much I haven't had time to just sit down and think."

Well, that and when y'all do think it's with your nads, Cletus drawled.

Don't be crude, Donna snapped back.

Cletus scoffed, He ain't had nothin' on his mind all day 'cept for Little Miss Crazy Coma back there.

She was hurt, you can't really blame him, Donna argued.

Shut. Up. Peter thought back harshly. Just... quiet. I need some quiet. Let me think.

Peter realized that Bradley was looking at him with an eerie sort of calm on his face. A professionally blank expression. "You sure you're alright?" He glanced to one side and noticed the soldiers on the APC's had tensed up once more.

Can't blame them, Cain rumbled. Thunderbolts that survive are the ones that know recent infectees can go from talking normally to homicidal at the drop of a hat. Calm down. Straighten up. You're spooking them.

Cain's right, kiddo, Cletus murmured nervously. Just act cool.

Peter took a deep cleansing breath and murmured back, "Yes. Sorry. Just... okay... it's been a busy week."

"I'll bet," Bradley said with an undertone of humor in his voice.

"Wait. Just... hold on. Wait..." Peter said slowly, still struggling to control his breathing as the memories in the back of his mind seemed to slide around, slotting into patterns and timelines. He'd had a rough idea of how things had happened, but never really had a chance to think on it. Any free moments he'd managed to steal away since this mess had started had been taken to simply rest. Now, here he was. Still unrested, mind racing. Body swimming in adrenaline from the presence of the Thunderbolts surrounding him... and trying to maintain a conversation with a man who Peter suspected was an infectee of some sort. An old one. Old and sane and in full command of his men.

Who have very big guns.

And there's probably at least one sniper we can't see aiming at your head, Cain growled.

Great. Tell him that cause he ain't nervous enough to begin with. Cletus chuckled.

"Okay," Peter said, licking his lips. "Whatever else is going on, it's been going on for a while."

Bradley nodded cautiously.

"Just... bear with me, please. I think I need to talk this out." Peter said and began to pace along the patio. "Henry Pym and Jessica Drew have been in Thunderbolts custody since the Gamma Strain outbreak in Middletown in 1964."

"Correct."

"In the mid-nineties, about a year or so after Oruzhiye Pliyus gets folded into Thunderbolts, suddenly someone gets the bright idea to move Pym and Drew to New York." Peter gestured. "They had him continuing the work he was already supposed to be doing for the Thunderbolts, which was studying the Hydra virus, except instead of keeping him in the isolated, secure mountain fortress you guys already have in the middle of nowhere, he and a woman who's been a virus factory for thirty years running, instead get moved to the middle of Manhattan."

Peter glanced back at Bradley and noted that the man was paying close attention. It was clear some of this was news to him, but somehow... he didn't seem entirely surprised. Suspected. There was something in Bradley's expression, closed as it was, that told Peter the man had suspected something like this.

"Gentek Tower," Peter continued a bitter smile on his mutated features. "The place was practically a fortress to keep infectees contained. Like they were expecting things to go wrong. They got their wish about five years ago when Jessica Drew woke up."

"Wait... that can't be right." Bradley graveled. "That should've been reported. There's no way--"

"I'm sure it did," Peter replied, "Same thing probably happened to that report as everything else he sent in. It was just one lab. Maybe two dozen people died in all." He sneered, "Small outbreak, relatively speaking."

He frowned as other reports and thoughts filtered through. Hank's thoughts. Old ones.

-- shouldn't be here at all. There are safer--"

"You will do as you're told, Mr. Pym. We will make arrangements to improve security around Patient Two. No one could have anticipated that she could still affect the infected while unconscious."

"I've told you over and over that it was a possibility! What do--

"They got it contained. They got it cleaned up. Jessica was moved to another 'secure' facility," Peter made air-quotes, "Where she was kept isolated from any infectees she might have been able to affect."

Bradley nodded, "Bellvue, right? I know about her being in Bellvue, but there wasn't anything about her having been awake before the move." He frowned. "So the outbreak in Bellvue was Jessica waking up?"

"Sort of yes, sort of no." Peter mentally reviewed what he'd found out for a second before speaking again, his glance flicking back to Bradely's glower.

"I told you, I'm not being difficult. It's just complicated. Before she'd fully woken up, she managed to infect Ed Whelan. He was one of the nurses attending her."

The older man raised an eyebrow, "How did she manage that?"

Peter looked away and coughed delicately, "You know what she looks like, right?"

Bradley nodded, clearly unsure of where he was going with this.

Despite the lingering tension within their mind, Peter heard Cletus giggling.

"Lonely guy. Gorgeous coma patient. Hydra virus can be passed through fluid exchange." Peter said with an embarrassed shrug, "Pretty sure I don't need to draw you a diagram."

Bradley winced and held up a meaty hand, "Say no more."

"Whelan infected rats and had been smuggling them out for almost a week to begin spreading Hydra when the situation changed." Peter stopped.

Just how much are you actually goin' to tell him? Cletus whined.

"Well?" Bradley demanded, "What changed?"

"People figured out what Whelan was doing." Peter said carefully and remembered Whelan's frantic run through Manhattan and into Queens. "The Thunderbolts teams got led to the main spots where the infections had started taking hold."

"Led?" Bradley pressed.

Peter fidgeted uncomfortably under the larger man's scrutiny. "Look at me. Almost every time you Thunderbolts or Gentek security sees me they're trying to shoot at me. What did you expect me to do?"

"So it wasn't Whelan the Gentek security team was chasing, it was you?"

"Sort of," Peter hedged.

Donna murmured, Stop looking so uncomfortable. He knows you're lying.

Easy for you to say. Peter shot back silently.

Connors asked, Are you planning on telling him about your mother, Peter? We know more or less that she was somehow keeping Jessica suppressed.

Bradley stared at him for a long, uncomfortable moment even as Peter mulled over the truth. That somehow his mother had been keeping Jessica down. That somehow in taking Ed Whelan under her control to use him against Jessica's rats, she'd somehow lost whatever mental stalemate she'd had with the older Hydra infectee and... died. Well, maybe not quite. Somehow her Hydra powers had passed on to him.

Or you're an approximation of Peter Parker's mind in Ed Whelan's body mutated by a molecular memetic construct of Mary Parker's, his own voice drawled back darkly.

"I..." Peter licked his lips nervously trying to come up with something plausible and not comfortable with giving Bradley any of that information.

Connors whispered, You could always tell the truth.

Oh, HELL no, Cletus grumbled, First its confessions, then its showing 'em the bodies. Then the next thing you know the DA's cut the deal wrong and its the chair for sure!

Cain rumbled, When in doubt, attack.

Peter took a deep breath and snapped. "I was trying to tell you guys what was going on, but I got shot in the head. That tends to make a guy more cautious, okay?"

Bradley inclined his head noncommittally, "I'd heard."

"Just be glad I'm not the kind that keeps a grudge," Peter remarked sourly. "I finally got through to Pym after that and he was trying to tell Colonel Jameson and General Talbot about the Manhattan situation, but it's obvious someone doesn't want to listen."

"The situation being that Jessica Drew used an outbreak in Queens to cover up her escape into Manhattan." Bradley concluded, his face clearly troubled.

Peter nodded. "She's still using it for cover. The Queens outbreak didn't get really bad until after she'd already gotten out of custody. She's acting differently. She's keeping a low profile. She's gathering infectees quietly. If she'd gotten control of Gentek Tower, I'm not doubting she would have used it as a base to keep expanding her influence."

"Except since you intervened, we don't know where she is." Bradley replied mildly.

Peter clamped down on the sharp remark that threatened to slip free. "It was the right call."

Bradley held a hand up, "I'm not arguing that." He scrubbed a hand from his scalp down his face. "Which all brings us here." Bradley gave Peter another long, hard look then asked, "Who are you working for?"

Peter blinked up at the taller man in confusion. "Er... what?"

"You heard me. It's obvious you were doing work for Pym," Bradley said slowly. "You're too well-informed. You know too much about everything."

"Obviously I'm not working for him now," Peter said, trying to keep the sarcasm out of his voice and not quite managing it.

"Obviously." Bradley choked down a growl. "On the other hand, don't think we missed the Oscorp security team grabbing hold of your sister-in-law, her neighbor or your old partner and his kid."

Peter blinked, not quite sure who they were talking about.

He thinks you're your dad, Donna supplied.

Oh. That.

Bradley took Peter's silence as a signal to go on as he continued to speak. "It's pretty obvious that you stopped playing ball with Gentek when your wife died. Were they using her to keep you under control?"

Peter didn't trust himself to speak. He practically felt the muscles across the back of his neck tighten on their own, forcing him to give a single, sharp nod.

"Gentek's one of Oscorp's subsidiaries. So now someone at Oscorp's got most of your remaining friends and family." Bradley said. "Anyone tried to get in touch with you yet?"

"No," Peter choked out. Confused at the line of questioning.

Bradley nodded. "I expect that'll happen sometime soon. There's a lot of work out there for a man with your talents."

"But..." Peter began, almost blurting out that he was the one that had sent them to Oscorp. That Harry Osborn had done it as a favor for the late Brian Watson and that they didn't know anything about "Richard Parker" much less Peter himself.

He could suddenly almost feel Cletus's non-existent hand clamp across his mouth. Shut it. Let him keep talkin'.

He's assuming you're going to be blackmailed by Oscorp. We've seen hints that Oscorp and its CEO have been pushing for figuring on possible applications of Hydra, but we had no idea what that actually meant, Donna cut in.

Oh.

Crap.

They were in those hands.

Were those the same hands that had been pulling Pym's strings? Pym had always said that other people had given him his orders.

Orders that had set things up to allow Jessica to escape and the outbreaks to happen.

Someone connected to Oscorp had set this all into motion. It was obvious in hindsight.

Peter shuddered at the thought that these people now had Aunt May and everyone else, save for MJ.

"What?" Bradley favored him with another sharp look.

Peter simply replied weakly, "I... I didn't know."

And now we're going to have to grab them back. Peter's voice drawled, Good job, doofus.

And hope no one realizes they have hostages they can use against you, Cain added.

"What are you planning to do now, then?" Bradley asked with a deceptively mild tone.

Peter took a deep, steadying breath, forcibly putting his worries out of his mind. He looked the man directly in the eyes. "I'm going to stop Jessica. Stop the infected. Get George Stacy and everyone else back."

"Awful lot of work," Bradley replied. He seemed to be mulling things over for a moment before adding, "They're probably taking your friends and family back to Oscorp's main office in upstate New York. Westchester County."

Peter nodded thanks. He glanced back awkwardly at the Thunderbolts personnel on the APCs then back to Bradley, "I'm guessing you're stuck here."

Bradley shrugged, "Unless something else big happens, the rest of the Thunderbolts squads we have in New York are going to be cleaning up Queens for the foreseeable future. Jameson's orders." There was a small growl to the man's voice.

"You really think he's behind all of this?" Peter asked. Pym's memories slid through his mind bringing flashes of annoyance and irritation running up Peter's spine.

"If he isn't," Bradley replied, his voice once more smoothed out. "Then whoever's giving him orders is. I'll be looking into it. Thank you."

Peter shook Bradley's extended hand slowly and cautiously. He was finding the man's false serenity to be far scarier than the glowers he'd given. "So... where does that leave us, then?"

Bradley ignored the question, then turned and began walking back to the nearer APC. He called back over his shoulder. "Us? I was never here. This conversation never happened."

"Er... what?" Peter stared in confusion.

"I have orders, Mr. Parker," Bradley replied in a perfectly level and reasonable tone as he climbed onto the APC, "I can't disobey them and I certainly can't spend any more time not talking to you. I've got a job to get to." He pinned Peter with his gaze once more. "So do you."

Peter nodded his head slowly. "I... see. Uh... so... I guess I'll be seeing you?"

"For your sake, I hope not." Bradley called back as the engines started up. "Who knows what my orders will be by then?"

Peter watched in bemusement as the APCs pulled away.

That almost sounded like he was tellin' you to go deal with Jessie-girl, Cletus drawled.

At least we know where they took Aunt May and everyone else, Donna said.

Assuming his intel was accurate. Cain chimed in. Assuming we hasn't lying.

We can look into that, Donna replied, It's a place to start. It's more than we had before.

Peter sighed and nodded, "Except we can't really do anything until--"

MJ's awake. Cain cut in.

Peter ran back into the house.

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