Chapter 17: The Pym Gambit
The receptionist made a brief call, then offered Talon a professional smile. "Sir, if you'd please wait a moment, Mr. Pym's executive assistant will be right down to escort you."
Shortly after, a sharp-eyed woman with a severe haircut approached. "Mr. Reeve? I'm Mr. Pym's assistant. Please, follow me."
Talon followed her to a spacious, minimalist office. Hank Pym sat behind a large desk, looking older and more worn than Talon had expected. Without preamble, Talon took a seat and launched his offensive.
"Mr. Pym. I'm here on behalf of S.H.I.E.L.D. I'll be direct. We require your Pym Particles. Name your price."
Pym leaned back, his expression one of deep-seated weariness. "And what does S.H.I.E.L.D. need them for?"
"To build a shield. To defend this planet from threats you can scarcely imagine," Talon stated, layering his voice with righteous conviction.
"If it's for weapons, the answer is no," Pym replied, his tone final. He had seen enough of what his technology could do in the wrong hands.
"Mr. Pym," Talon said, leaning forward, his gaze intense. "Aliens have descended upon this world. Cities have been leveled. Each time, we barely survive. We are outgunned. Without a technological edge, humanity faces only two futures: enslavement or extinction. You have a responsibility. If every scientist hoards their 'broom,' who will be left to protect your family when the real storm comes?"
Pym's posture shifted slightly. "My family is none of your concern."
"Isn't it?" Talon pressed, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "What if I told you your wife, Janet, isn't dead?"
Hank Pym shot to his feet, his hands gripping the edge of the desk, his knuckles white. "What did you say?"
"She's not dead," Talon repeated, the lie feeling like truth on his tongue. He had seen the movies; he knew the story. "She's trapped. In the Quantum Realm."
The color drained from Pym's face. "How... how could you know that?"
"Because her body has been saturated with quantum energy. It's preserved her. She hasn't aged a day since you lost her." Talon wove the cinematic knowledge into his narrative, making it sound like classified, hard-won intelligence.
The hope that blossomed on Hank Pym's face was painful to see. It was the raw, desperate hope of a man who had mourned for decades. "You're telling me the truth?"
"On my honor," Talon said, the words utterly hollow but perfectly delivered.
"Then take them!" Pym exclaimed, his voice cracking. "Take all the Pym Particles you want! I'll give you the formula! The extraction process! Everything! Just... just help me bring her home."
Talon allowed a triumphant smile to touch his lips. "A pleasure doing business with—"
The office door slammed open. A woman with sharp features and fiery red lips stood there, her eyes blazing. "Dad, don't! He's lying to you!"
"Hope!" Hank barked, anger warring with his desperate hope. "Mr. Reeve is with S.H.I.E.L.D.!"
"Think, Dad!" Hope van Dyne strode into the room, her gaze locked on Talon like a targeting laser. "Plenty of people know Mom was lost in the Quantum Realm. It's the-worst-kept secret in our lives. But we are the only ones with quantum technology. We can't find her. How can he, with no quantum expertise, possibly know how to retrieve her? Is he going to wish her back?"
Hank faltered, the logic piercing his desperate bubble.
Talon didn't flinch. He turned his cool gaze to Hope. "Ms. van Dyne. Have you ever heard of the Zola Algorithm?"
Hank shook his head, confused.
"It's the life's work of a genius named Arnim Zola," Talon explained, his tone that of a lecturer sharing esoteric knowledge. "An analytical engine that can see patterns in chaos, deduce the present from the past, and extrapolate the future. It's how I know where your mother is, and the precise method to retrieve her."
He turned back to Hank, extending his hand once more. "The particles and the technology, in exchange for my assistance in rescuing Janet. Do we have a deal?"
Hope stared, her jaw tight, but Hank was already lost to the possibility.
"I'll give you everything," Hank said, his voice thick with emotion, gripping Talon's hand. "Just bring her home."
"To facilitate our work, I suggest you relocate to my private facility," Talon said smoothly. "I have resources there you can't imagine. Other brilliant minds. We can begin immediately."
"Done," Hank said, already moving toward the door to gather his things. "I'll pack my research."
"Dad, wait!" Hope cried out, but Hank waved her off.
"Someone has to run the company, Hope. It has to be you." He disappeared into the hall, leaving them alone.
Hope turned her fury on Talon. "If you are lying to him," she hissed, stepping dangerously close, "if you hurt him in any way, I will end you."
Talon looked down at her, a slow, condescending smile spreading across his face. He chuckled. "Are you threatening this?" He gestured to his own powerful, Titan-enhanced physique.
"Muscle doesn't win fights. Skill does," she retorted, her confidence born from a lifetime of combat training and the power of the Wasp suit.
"Care to put that theory to the test?" Talon goaded, his smile turning predatory.
"Gladly. The roof. Now."
They stood on the windswept rooftop, the city sprawled out below them. Talon stood relaxed, his hands at his sides. "Come on, then. Show me what you've got."
Hope moved with the speed of a striking cobra. She feinted a punch to his face, then dropped, her leg sweeping towards his groin with crippling force.
Talon didn't dodge. He simply shifted his stance, his powerful thighs clamping together, trapping her leg before it could connect. He didn't even stagger. "Too slow," he murmured.
She snarled, yanking her leg back and unleashing a furious combination of punches aimed at his head and throat. Talon's left hand moved in a blur, catching her wrist in an unbreakable grip. "Still too weak."
Enraged, Hope used her free hand, fingers extended like talons, aiming for his eyes. Talon tilted his head a bare inch, his right hand snapping up to seize her other wrist. He now held both her hands and one leg immobilized. He looked down at her, utterly unimpressed.
"Any other moves?" he asked, his voice a low rumble.
Hope struggled violently, but it was like trying to break free from steel bands. Her composure shattered. "You bastard! Let me go! Fight me for real!"
Talon just smiled, a cold, dismissive expression. "This is real. And you've already lost." He released her with a slight push, sending her stumbling back. He had made his point. He was not a man to be threatened. He turned and walked away, leaving her seething on the rooftop. Hank Pym and his technology were as good as his.