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Prologue: 1989

Hank Pym strode into the large conference room deep inside the under-construction S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters known as the Triskelion and saw Howard Stark, Mitchell Carson, and Peggy Carter deep in conversation, exactly where the guard outside had said they would be. “Stark,” he snapped.

“He doesn’t seem happy,” Stark murmured.

Stark stood up to meet Pym. “Hello, Hank. You’re supposed to be in Moscow.”

“I took a detour through your defense lab,” Pym said. He got to the table and slapped down a steel-and-glass vial containing a red fluid.

“Tell me that isn’t what I think it is,” Carter said, turning to Stark.

“It depends if you think it’s a poor attempt to replicate my work.” Pym glared at the S.H.I.E.L.D. brain trust, furious at what they had done. He could see immediately that Carter hadn’t known this sample existed. “Even for this group, that takes nerve.”

“You were instructed to go to Russia,” Carson said. “May I remind you, Dr. Pym, that you’re a soldier—”

“I’m a scientist,” Pym interrupted.

“Then act like one,” Stark shot back. “The Pym Particle is the most revolutionary science ever developed. Help us put it to good use.”

Pym couldn’t believe what he was hearing. “First you turn me into your errand boy and now you try to steal my research?”

With a condescending smirk on his face, Carson said, “If only you’d protected Janet with such ferocity, Dr. Pym.”

That was it. Pym lost his temper and punched Mitchell Carson square in the nose.

Peggy Carter grabbed his arm before he could throw another punch. “Easy, Hank.”

“You mention my wife again and I’ll show you ferocity,” Pym growled.

Carson, grimacing, wiped blood away from his nose. He looked over at Stark, like he wanted him to take his side.

Stark wouldn’t. “Don’t look at me—you said it.”

Pym couldn’t work with these people. They were too tied up with the government and their secret plans. He’d been mistaken to start working with them in the first place. “I formally tender my resignation,” he said.

Stark shook his head. “We don’t accept it. Formally. Hank, we need you. The Pym Particle is a miracle. Please, don’t let your past determine the future.”

“As long as I am alive,” Pym said very slowly, “nobody will ever get that formula.”

He stalked out of the conference room, wishing he’d thrown that second punch.

“We shouldn’t let him leave the building,” Carson said. He was embarrassed and angry, and wanted to get back at Pym somehow.

“You’ve already lied to him; now you want to go to war with him?” Carter clearly didn’t think it was a good idea. Carson was letting his emotions get the better of him.

“Yes,” Carson growled. “Our scientists haven’t come close to replicating his work.”

“He just kicked your ass full-size,” Stark pointed out. “You really want to find out what it’s like when you can’t see him coming? I’ve known Hank Pym for a long time; he’s no security risk.” Stark paused, considering S.H.I.E.L.D.’s options.

“Unless we make him one,” he added, and now he sounded worried. Mitchell Carson glared at Stark, but for the moment he let it go. nqcSatrVsvpmuKnZTnpoDGYkAKYE+C2YkvOpqqp9UNWkY1XHSSGfmYNOlDDVlYew

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