To combat those threats against which no hero could stand alone, Earth's Mightiest Heroes formed a covenant to unite in battle to protect all mankind. Now, from their second base of operations on America's West Coast, a new chapter in their legend is being written.

Stan Lee presents.......

" The Devil Went Down to California"

---

Wanda was cold, and frightened. She had awakened about twenty minutes ago, only to find herself shacked and sitting on the stone floor of a small room constructed of concrete blocks. She tried to figure out how she had gotten there but couldn't. The last thing she recalled was wandering outside at the compound, thinking about Hawkeye. * She was tired, her head hurt, and her muscles were cramped; she didn't know where she was, or how she had gotten there. The truly frightening thing was, it had been almost dawn when they had returned to the compound, everyone had gone to bed so it could be hours before her teammates noticed she was gone. She was facing the unknown, and she was facing it alone.

* last issue

As the emergency room finally slows down from its hectic pace, so the rest of the hospital in this rough area of LA comes to life in the hours just after dawn. Shifts change, medication is prepared, breakfast is served, the staff hustles about to deal with those admissions who survived the dangerous hours of the middle of the night. The click of heels on the tile floor, the jangle of food trays stacked high on a cart pushed by an orderly who looked more like he'd be at home on the offensive line of a football team, the whispered voices of the nurses and technicians; Mockingbird's ears heard the sounds in the hall outside but her brain registered only one thing, the ghostly white face of her husband as he lay before her.

One more sound was added to the gentle emergence of the hospital into the light of a new day, an earnestly whispered plea.

"Clint, please, don't leave me. I can't bear to face the thought of life without you."

USAgent sat in the monitor room, slumped against the terminals, snoring softly. He had been up all night, had offered to man the monitors again when the team returned to the compound that morning, but exhaustion had finally overtaken him. He dreamt over and over; seeing Hawkeye on the stretcher as he was brought into the hospital; seeing Mock's grief and being unable to help; sometimes even seeing the archer die, hearing her anguished wails, himself powerless to do anything. An Avenger he might be but this was out of his control and he hated it. Families shouldn't be torn apart by this kind of senseless violence, and Avengers, no matter who, shouldn't die. His sleep was not restful.

A muted beeping mercifully woke him from a particularly bad dream. Someone was landing an aircraft. He switched the monitors to automatic and rose, stretching the kinks out of his cramped shoulder and back muscles, then headed out to see who it was. Unconsciously he straightened his shoulders and sucked in his stomach as he saw Captain America debarking.

Within minutes Cap had the entire picture of what had happened, as well as how the team was handling it and what else had been going on with the West Coast contingent recently. He borrowed a vehicle and left for the hospital. Agent stood there amazed. He had just been debriefed more thoroughly than at any time in his life and in just mere moments. He headed back to the monitor room, impressed at Cap's professionalism, a bit awed by his personality and glowing, just a little, at Cap's heartfelt thanks offered as he left.

Had she been here for minutes? Or hours? Or was it days now? The room was dark, sounds were muffled. It was almost like sensory deprivation. Wanda had no idea how long she had been captive. Perhaps her teammates were already seeking her. Perhaps they were here now, looking for her. A sliver of light spread across the room as a door was opened. Perhaps it was them. Her optimism shrank back as she saw, not her teammates, but a white clad figure approaching her, a long curved knife held menacingly in her hand.

"Awake at last my lovely, Wanda?" The woman sheathed the knife and smiled, not a smile of welcome, but one of thinly veiled loathing. "I have waited a long time for this moment, most of my life actually. But I'm crushed, you don't recognize me, your old playmate, Russika. Has your evil changed me that much?"

Wanda sat up a bit more, her limbs achingly numb from being bound for so long, her mind spinning in confusion. The name brought vague recollections of the past but there had been so many people she had known for just a few short months during her childhood as her nomadic life had taken her from place to place in the mountainous regions of Europe.

"And now that we are reunited how will I kill you, witch? Shall I drive a stake through your heart? No, that's for vampires, isn't it, and you sucked the very life from me, but not my blood. Better you had, than let me live the way I have, with evil in my soul and springing from my very loins. I had to destroy the child, you know. She was my last connection to my beloved, but your evil was in her so she had to be purged."

It was starting to come clear to Wanda now. Russika's ranting was bringing back memories of a long time ago. The mountain village, the other teenagers, a shy, young girl who had silently worshipped a lout named Stephan. The party, his unwanted advances, her brother's defense of her honor, Wanda knew now where she had seen the young sorceress before, but still didn't understand what had impelled the girl to hate her so. * She decided to draw her out, keep her talking; perhaps that way she could find some means to reason with her captor.

* for the whole story see Untold AWC #8

Slowly the story drifted from the girl. Her rape, Stephan's death, her pregnancy, her abuse by her father. Wanda was chilled by the things that Russika had experienced and realized that, in order to let her mind cope what had happened to her, Russika had channeled all of her experiences into an undying hatred. She had decided that every bad thing that had happened was as a result of Wanda's supposed spell. Wanda was also afraid that Russika was quite mad. She felt sure that she could have dealt with a sane opponent but this was beyond her. As panic started to settle in she suddenly felt a calming presence in her mind.

'Fear not my child, I have summoned help for you.'

'Agatha?'

'Rest, Wanda. Do not antagonize her. We will be there. I bring you a champion to save you. Your magic is far too important to the world to be snuffed out by this misguided and inept counterfeit sorceress. Release your mind to mine and all will be well. We shall be there soon.'

Wanda looked up at Russika and hoped it would be soon enough.

Captain America strode down the hall. The nurses and doctors glanced at him as he passed, wondered why he was here, and hoped that they might have a chance to speak to the living legend. He paid them no heed as he headed directly for his objective, a guarded room in the ICU wards. He spoke briefly to Dr. Willis, nodded at Vision who was vigilantly standing outside the door, then slipped into one of the rooms.

How many times in the past had he visited a fallen comrade or seen a young soldier die in the line of duty. Much as Steve loved Clint as a friend, almost as a brother, the hardest part was not facing the potential death of a colleague, but facing the relatives. He looked at Bobbi as she sat beside her husband, almost asleep but not quite, clinging to his hand as if her presence alone could keep him breathing. What did he say? What could he say? He knew; it would have to be what he always said.

Touching her shoulder he turned her towards him, smiled reassuringly and spoke. "Bobbi, I see our young warrior is still causing us all concern." A light tone usually worked best. He grinned disarmingly and continued, "He'll be fine, don't worry. Hawk's a fighter and he loves you too much to leave you." As he saw the relief replace the tears in her eyes he thought bitterly that perhaps he should go into politics, as had been suggested frequently to him. The lies were falling from his tongue far too easily. But an Avenger had to fight to save the innocent and right now, since he could do nothing for Clint, he had to do his best for Bobbi instead.

As if drawn by some unseen beacon the members of the team assembled around the table in the kitchen. It was late morning, they had only slept for a few hours but something drew them together, as if their joined presence could help them brave the potential horrors of the day.. Consuela, their cook, poured coffee for Tigra; Hank Pym passed toast to Wonder Man; Wasp accepted a glass of orange juice from Iron Man. The last arrivals were USAgent and Quicksilver. Jack sat down quickly, told the others that Captain America had arrived early and left immediately for the hospital, then he started to eat a large serving of bacon and eggs. Pietro hovered about, obviously disturbed by something.

"So Quicky, what's up? You look like me in a room full of rocking chairs." Tigra smiled winningly as she twitched her tail behind her.

"Has anyone seen Wanda?" Their negative responses made him look even more worried. "It isn't like her to not be here. I don't think she would sleep this long, she was too anxious about Clint, but she didn't answer when I knocked on her door."

Jan rose. "Perhaps Tigra and I should go and check on her. That way we can settle your mind before you start imagining things."

"I would appreciate that, Jan. I am not the obsessive I used to be where my sister is concerned but I am worried about her."

As the two women started to head outside on the way to Wanda's bungalow the telephone rang. Consuela motioned to Hank Pym. He took it, nodded, mumbled a few words then hung up. "Well, that was odd. Jan, better go check on Wanda, but I don't think she's there. That was Stephen Strange. He's at LA-X and I am going to get him. Seems he got a call from Agatha Harkness telling him that Wanda was in danger and that his powers would be needed to rescue her."

"I'll check, then we'll all go." Jan left the kitchen and headed across the cool green grounds. She returned momentarily. "Not there, and it doesn't look like her bed has been slept in. Okay, gang, let's go see what Dr. Strange has to tell us, then let's find our missing Avenger."

As they headed for the Quinjet, Quicksilver racing ahead of them, an observer could have overheard USAgent muttering "Geez, Firebird, Black Widow, Vision, Captain America and now Doc Strange. * Who knew this place had a revolving door policy?"

* they have all visited the compound in recent issues

On the tarmac of a priority runway the Avengers Quinjet sat motionless as a collection of most unlikely participants discussed what to do next. The Wasp listened as Dr. Strange explained the call he had received from Agatha Harkness, former nanny to Franklin Richards and recent visitor to the West Coast team. * As she took in what he was saying she reflected that he was an incredibly attractive man, his cape swirling in the breeze, his mustache bobbing as he spoke, the sunlight that peeked through the smog glinting from his distinguished graying sideburns. Then she looked at Hank and, as a warm feeling swept through her she flushed, reflecting that no matter how desirable he was, this wasn't the place or the time.

* in the Immortus storyline of AWC 59 - 61

Strange was adamant that he didn't want all of the Avengers with him as he sought the missing Scarlet Witch and Hank was just as determined that they would all go. After all, Wanda was one of theirs and the Avengers should stick together. The argument was becoming heated when they were joined by a yellow and red clad figure who flew effortlessly to join them on the searing blacktop.

"Firebird?" Hank was surprised.

"I was called, Hank. Wanda is in danger and Stephen, Quicksilver, and I must save her. We need to hurry before it is too late." Bonita flipped her long dark hair back from her face and stared directly into Hank's blue eyes. He returned her look for a moment, then turned away.

"Iron Man, Wonder Man, take Tigra and Agent back to the compound, We'll play this one Strange's way. Jan and I will stay a few minutes then join you back there."

None of them looked happy about it but they complied. Hank headed the remaining Avengers and their new, and unexpected associates, back towards the Quinjet. "Okay, Strange, you seem to know what's happening here. Now, where are you headed?"

"Would that I knew, Hank Pym. I can see the exact location in my mind, but am not familiar enough with the Los Angeles area to identify it." He closed his eyes, his voice took on an almost hypnotic effect as he began to describe: a deep cement ditch, a hill beside it, jagged at the top, the outline almost resembling the face of an Indian Chief in repose, a handful of yucca cactus, a small sumac, the leaves tinged with flaming red and, hidden behind it, more cement, a wall, worn smooth by years of rain and wind, a rusted iron door on the wall, slightly ajar, to the left a glimpse of a billboard, long forgotten by the denizens of the media, the advertisement for a car, now several years old, ripped and fluttering in the breeze.

His description was so sharp, so detailed, that each of them felt as though they were there, could feel the breeze on their faces, could smell the dust and the tang of the surrounding vegetation, but none of them could identify the locale.

"Perhaps we should ask someone who has lived here all his life," Firebird suggested, "Like him." She pointed to a young man who was gathering up litter from the runway area and stuffing it into a large plastic bag. His hair was multi-colored and shaved into strips running back along his scalp, he had dozens of rings up the sides of his ears and tattoos all over his arms. He wore a vest over his ragged black T-shirt that identified him as airport staff. As they approached him he started to back away.

"Stay away from me, man. I ain't done nothin' wrong and I don't need any super doops bugging me." His eyes flicked nervously from one of them to the other. He clutched his garbage bag to his chest, obviously frightened by the unusual sight of a group of Avengers bearing down on him.

Jan motioned the others to stay back. She walked to the boy, looked up into his eyes, touched his arm gently and smiled her most beguiling smile. "But we don't want to hurt you. We need your help. You'd like to help us, wouldn't you?" She dimpled and stepped a bit closer to him as if to emphasize how much smaller she was then he.

"Me? Uhh, sure I would, but what can I do to help you? I can't fight bad guys or nothin'... at least I never tried before... I suppose... if you really need me..."

"Oh no," Jan replied. "Something far more important than that." She glanced back over her shoulder at the others then whispered, "Strong men are a dime a dozen. What I need is something that you have that they don't. I need your intelligence, your knowledge of the area. You are a native of Los Angeles, aren't you."

He straightened with obvious pride. "Sure am. You want to know about this burg, I'm your man, doll. Just tell me what you need to know."

Jan summoned Dr. Strange and he repeated his description to the teen. The boy knew almost instantly where the site was, an abandoned ammo bunker near a drainage ditch in the hilly area north of Malibu. As they headed back to the Quinjet, Jan stayed behind and kissed him on the cheek as she thanked him. He blushed and stammered, his red face a vivid contrast to the purple and lime green stripes in his hair. As she rejoined the others she glanced back to see him waving shyly.

"Now that's the flirtatious Jan I remember, but don't you think you over did it just a bit?"

Jan laughed. "Not really , Hank. Look at it this way, we got what we needed and he got a memory that will stay with him for a long time, so everyone wins."

Hank sighed, "I suppose so." He turned back to the others. "Okay, I've located the spot on our onboard computer map." He directed his gaze at Dr. Strange. "There's a skycycle in the back of the Quinjet. Jan and I will take that back to the compound so you can use the larger vehicle, since we don't know what kind of shape Wanda will be in when you find her. Unless you've changed your mind and want us to accompany you..." He left the sentence hanging and looked hopeful.

"Sorry Pym. Firebird is right. It must be just the three of us. We each have our own tasks to do and more would endanger the mission. We have a life to save, a soul in peril."

Quicksilver bristled. "If Wanda is in that much danger then why are we standing here. Let's go."

Strange looked at him. "We are agreed that haste is best." He continued softly, "But I fear it isn't Wanda that is in mortal jeopardy."

"Dr. Pym, Mrs. Barton, I'm glad you could join me."

"No problem, Dr. Willis. How is he?" Hank addressed the doctor while he gave Mockingbird's hand a reassuring pat. She had been at the hospital all night and looked tired. Unable to be of further assistance in the search for Wanda, Hank had decided that he could perhaps be of use at the hospital.

"No change, and there should be. That's what worries me. Here are the charts. As you can see the arm injuries are fairly minor although he does have a chipped ulna from the one shot that hit his forearm. As far as the legs are concerned, there is extensive damage to the Achilles tendon of the left leg and I'm unsure how well that will heal. I'm hoping that the rejuvenation techniques the Avengers have developed * will work. The thigh injury missed the femoral artery by the slightest margin so he was lucky there. It's the upper body injuries that concern me, and his continued weakening"

* don't believe it? check the Thermo-reviver disks used in Avengers 29

Hank Pym nodded as he read over the medical records, Bobbi peering anxiously over his shoulder. Fractured sternum, but that could have been worse too, the shot had hit Clint's quiver strap and been deflected by a Vibranium arrowhead. The force of the impact had still broken the bone. Two bullets in the upper back but without sufficient force behind them to penetrate far, they had been removed, leaving uncomfortable but non-threatening injuries along with a few remaining shell fragments. One shot that had torn through the lower part of the left lung was more serious but that seemed under control. It was the blood loss that had been a large part of the problem. Lack of blood flow to the muscles and to some extent the brain could have long term effects. But it was shock that was such a terrible thing and Clint didn't seem to be responding to treatment. He was still heavily sedated but in the odd moments when he was awake he seemed weaker and less lucid each time. And then there was the mysterious and intermittent shadowing in his X-rays. Hank had a horrible suspicion he knew what the problem was but he prayed that he was wrong.

Russika had returned, this time accompanied by a gangly, ugly man who Wanda recognized as Ivan, an oft time companion of Russika's now dead lover, Stephan. He watched the white clad woman with a look of yearning tinged with a haunted trace of fear as she started to draw blood red symbols on the cement floor of the cell.

"I've played with you long enough I think, my dear Wanda. It's time for a reckoning." She continued to sketch as she spoke. "You destroyed me with your witchcraft so it is only fitting that witchcraft destroy you, but first I think.. a demon... so you can suffer the same physical torture that I underwent as a result of your spells. Yes, a demon, a large and very masculine demon, to strip you of your dignity, to impale your body and violate it just as mine was. I'll enjoy that, watching you scream and cry and beg for mercy as one of the devil-spawn rapes you again and again. I am almost tempted to then let you live. Perhaps you will be fertile and can bear a demon child from the union, as I did."

Her sketching now completed Russika stood at the edge of the pentagram, lighted a few candles and raised her arms, her chalky sleeves dropping back to reveal her slim, dark arms, her hands raised to the ceiling in supplication. She rolled her eyes upward and, in a low monotone voice, began to chant, "Nestorium brylla othuliorus zuul xerxiolana..." A green tendril of smoke began to form in the middle of the drawing, slowly taking shape, growing, coalescing into a forbidding form.

Wanda watched in horror as she beheld the result of Russika's spell. Inside the red pentagram stood a demon, a large green demon, a naked and very male demon. He leered at her, his taloned left hand fondling himself while his right gestured obscenely. He started to step forward but as one of his cloven hooves touched the edge of the circle sparks flashed and he growled, shrinking back and looking menacingly at his mistress.

As Ivan pulled at her arm, whispering anxiously, Russika pushed him away and addressed her minion. "You know better than that. You may only leave the binding circle at my command." Again the demon glared at her, his impatience barely contained. She continued, "Now, do my bidding, take the woman, take her now and violently. You have my permission to leave the pentagram for the express purpose of using the Scarlet Witch like the whore she is. Go!"

The incubus moved forward, hesitating a moment as he stepped cautiously out of the pentagram, then hastening to his bound victim. Wanda tried to control herself but couldn't quite contain the scream that escaped as the creature caught her costume with one of his claws and ripped the cleavage down to her waist. Her hands still chained she struggled to hide her now naked breasts behind what little remained of the shredded cloth.

Russika hugged Ivan and chuckled with glee as the demon pried Wanda's legs apart and began to run his ragged claws between her thighs. He was just about to rip off the balance of her costume when a blur flashed between him and Wanda, tossing the demon to the far side of the room. As her assailant crashed into the wall the blur stopped and Wanda saw her brother Quicksilver standing before her.

"Rest assured my sister, this thing will threaten you no further." He whirled towards Russika and Ivan. "Who are you? Why have you done this to Wanda? Release her now, or face the fury of Avengers."

Russika, who had momentarily been taken aback by the sudden appearance of Quicksilver, marshaled her nerve and faced him. "I remember you Pietro, you and your imperious ways, and your appropriately dog like devotion to your bitch sister. You never thought of what you were doing to others did you? Never saw the disasters that you two left in your wake. Well this is my revenge, this is how I can try to regain some of the dignity that she stripped from me, perhaps even have a chance to again be human and free of her curse."

"I can set you free." Heads turned toward the sound of the gentle voice. Firebird stood at the entrance to the room, her costume bathed in a pearly white light that seemed to emanate from within her. "I can see the torment deep in your soul; come to me and let me help you."

Russika hesitated, her eyes torn between the demon who was again rising from the ground, Wanda, chained on the ground, with her brother leaning protectively over her, and Firebird who stood, her arms extended and her face composed and serene as she awaited Russika's decision. A look of doubt, then one of relief passed over the girl's countenance as she rushed to Bonita, dropped to her knees and whispered, "Help me, Holy One. I can't fight the evil alone and it is consuming me."

Firebird knelt beside her, wrapped the now weeping sorceress gently in her arms and said, "I shall, but first, release Wanda. She is not responsible for your torment in any way and you don't want to harm an innocent."

Russika nodded and motioned to Ivan, who hurriedly unshackled the Scarlet Witch. Quicksilver, his anger abated by the freedom his sibling, held her protectively and helped her slowly to her feet as she tried to get the feeling back into her stiff muscles. For a moment all was peaceful then Ivan started to make a strangled noise in the back of his throat. They all looked towards him and he pointed, terror in his eyes, at the demon. The creature had risen and was now increasing in size, over fifteen feet tall and still growing, crouching beneath the low ceiling and advancing on all of them menacingly.

Russika sniffled back her tears and commanded, "You are under my command, return to your own world. You are no longer needed here."

The demon laughed, his voice raspy and sarcastic. "Control me? You control nothing, you feeble excuse for a sorceress. What I have done I do at the bidding of my true master."

"But the pentagram, my summoning.... you are my demon and must do my bidding."

"Pentagram? Fool, you didn't even draw it correctly. "He pointed to the ragged edges of the pentagram and revealed that the circle was not even completely closed. "And besides I can't be controlled that way. Were I one of those demons I would still have been free to act on my own once you let me out of the circle, you didn't say the appropriate enchantments to bind me to you at all." He resumed his menacing advance towards Wanda. "First I will have the tender piece of tail that was promised me and is my due, then I will deal with the others as they deserve." He approached Wanda, still fondling his own engorged genitalia as he did.. "See, my pretty, I am larger now, when I thrust hard between your sweet legs my true master will hear your cries of agony and that is good because he likes pain, a lot."

Pietro leapt to in front of his twin. "No!" His protests were cut short as the creature grabbed him and flung him into a crumpled heap on the far side of the room like a rag doll. Wanda, her hands now freed, was preparing to generate her hex power as the beast grabbed again at her torn costume when suddenly a purple-white bolt of sheer energy blasted her attacker from her.

"Enough, Belgaruth! Be gone and send your master to me. He has much to answer for." In the doorway stood Dr. Strange, imperious as usual, his darkened eyes flashing with anger, his hand resting gently on his amulet, the Eye of Agamotto, that lay on his chest. The demon, shrinking in size, whimpered as Strange continued. "I held myself back so that I could determine the true source of the evil in this place and I can sense your master's hand behind this. Return to his stinking domain and send him to me, else I will have to go there myself and he won't like that."

The demon vanished in a cloud of rank smoke, to be replaced by an ominous green being. Strange scowled. "So, Satannish, you grace us with your presence. Tell me monstrous one, why are you tormenting the Avengers? You have never shown any animus for the west coast contingent before this."

The devilish being snarled. "Strange, you meddling windbag. This is none of your affair, unless you have become on of the Earth's Mightiest Assemblers while I wasn't looking, of course. Now that would be interesting." The mouth on his head laughed as the forbidding orifice in his belly spoke. "I need not answer you but it amuses me, so I will. It was the girl... in her inept attempts to summon a demon I saw my chance to have a little fun. You wouldn't want to deprive me of my innocent amusements now would you? Your precious Scarlet Witch just got in the way."

As the others watched Dr. Strange walked up to Satannish and looked him in the eye. "Fine, your play time is over, now leave and let these others return to a normal life. We will care for the girl."

"Oh no, she is mine. She used what she thought were spells to summon me and, according to her own twisted code, her soul is now mine, in exchange for services rendered, of course."

As one, Firebird and Dr. Strange protested, "No!" Russika cringed in terror and Ivan ran to her side as though to protect her while Strange continued. "Do you truly wish to test your power against mine at this time Satannish?" The green alien hesitated then shook his head. "I thought not. The girl stays with us. Now return to your stinking den, Satannish. There is nothing further here for you."

"Very well, I'll go, Strange, but we will meet again. Count on it. And I will see these Avengers again too. *" He vanished.

* and he will, in AWC 75-76 and again in 98-100

Firebird turned to Wanda and Pietro. "Take the Quinjet and return to the compound now. Stephen and I will care for these two." She silenced their protests. "I'll join you there soon but the others are worried, so go to them. They have enough to worry about already."

Hank Pym was troubled. He knew what he had to do, but he also knew that it endangered many things, not the least of which was his newly blooming relationship with his ex-wife, Jan. He hoped to smooth things over with her, but approval or not, he knew what he had to do. He sat on the couch, staring out the window at the gentle California lush scenery. She walked in the door, tiny and lovely as always. Hank felt a thrill just looking at her. How had he ever let this tiny perfect creature slip away from him, and why was he jeopardizing what they had once again? He closed his eyes, recalled Hawkeye laying in the hospital, and remembered.

"Jan, we have to talk."

There were tears in her eyes as he explained to her what the problem was, and what he felt he had to do about it. "But, Hank, you and the doctors had decided that size changing could kill you, any size changing. I thought you were happy with your role as an adventurer and were going to leave the super hero antics to the others."

He took her into his arms. "Jan, I want to, but this is something I have to do. No matter how you cut it, Pym Particles are killing Clint. Shock has made the residue, still in his system from his repeated usage, unstable. His molecules are altering almost constantly. Even some of the shrapnel fragments still in his body have been affected and are growing and shrinking. It's not a lot now, but it could be worse and besides his body isn't accepting it. He will die, of shock if nothing else. Think about it Jan, this is Clint. Once only the three of us were the entire team. Can I let him die because of my inaction?"

Jan let her fingers drift to the locket she wore about her neck. Her head dropped and her words were so low as to be almost inaudible. "No, you can't." Hank hugged her tightly to him but didn't hear as she silently mouthed, "I knew that you'd have to go back to it eventually Hank, but I had hoped..."

Hank Pym, Iron Man and Captain America stood in a specially prepared room at the hospital. Each of them were clad in armor that had been quickly and efficiently prepared by Stark International for their very specialized needs.

"Hank, are you sure this is the only way?"

Pushing the visor of his new Ant Man armor back Hank Pym nodded. "If there was any other way Cap, I'd take it, but I don't see one. I appreciate you guys volunteering to help me though. I've seen Fantastic Voyage too many times I guess but I have no idea what we will be up against. You ready?"

The two of them nodded. Hank signaled the doctor then lightly spread a thin layer of Pym Particles over them. As they shrank from sight Dr. Willis picked up a hypodermic and prepared to suck their now microscopic bodies up into it. He mumbled, mostly to himself, "Well God help them." He turned back and glanced through the door to his patient who lay barely breathing on the operating table. "God help him too, if this doesn't work then there is no hope."

Lonni Holland
Aug. 8, 1999