The cold winds whipped against Natasha's face which had long frozen in a mask ever since Fury gave them a rundown of their next mission; 'apprehending' Bolivar Trask.
Who the hell hides away in the frozen northland with absolutely no green in sight for miles? A man who was serious about hiding apparently.
The decision, she had quickly learnt, was not sudden, but instead late. The Merchant reveal was one of an egregiously large open market and she has recently realized that neither they, nor the American economy, had the finances to bracket said market.
It was an open season of the worst kind. Now most would say that Nick Fury was not someone who would willingly roll over just because a man had a bigger measuring stick, and they would be right. But if the man was an inter/extradimensional galaxy-wide-based Merchant and the stick was casual time reversal/manipulation, then yes, Nick Fury would play ball.
And since they could do nothing to curate the exposure of the shop(as they were sure would earn the quick displeasure of the Merchant), they were now in another race. The Race for Resources.
She had seen a price that would turn Tony into a pauper, much less SHIELD, and Nick Fury had been quick to act on it.
Which led to her current, highly volatile, mission.
She was with Clint and Yelena, and while severely underpowered, the current mission was one of extraction rather than dismantling.
They were to take Trask in but that was just the pretext. He was working on something and that something was what Fury was after. Whatever it was, Fury was certain that it was valuable enough to put a major dent into the outrageous price tag he was given. Never before had she seen Fury so dead set on having something.
"So what are we doing if the mission goes sideways?" Yelena suddenly asked, breaking her away from her thoughts.
"Oh come on!" Natasha cried out.
"Seriously? I can't believe you just said that." Clint shook his in disbelief. Even with barely knowing anything about Yelena, Natasha found it so fitting that her sister wound jinx a high priority mission just before they made contact.
They were currently just outside of an entrance point to Trask underground bunker(again, in the middle of nowhere), each in their tactical gears, when Yelena made the insidious comment, which quickly had them double checking their gears.
"We should have brought the others with us." Clint said, having a rough idea on the level of resistance they were about to face since the mission would no doubt go south after Yelena's declaration.
"Tony is busy. We can't really bring Bruce into this, y'know, nerves. Thor is off doing god stuff. As for Cap, I think Fury is giving him some time off." Yelena narrated, while Natasha barely caught herself before saying something.
"Do we have any idea about what Trask is even doing down there?" Clint asked. "He's kind of a bad topic in every circle, especially after what happened in '02."
"Building another mutant doomsday device probably. And bad topic is being generous. He is more like a cursed word. You'd think he was dead with all the shit he got up to."
None of them said it but they were all thinking it. If the X-Men found out about Trask's location then the man might as well say goodnight. Sure they would put a bullet in his head all the same, but dying to people who hated you for every reason must be a 'worst ever' feeling.
They readied their guns, stingers and arrows and opened the hatch that led through one of the exit ways of the underground mausoleum when the entire mountain range shook.
"That can't be good." Yelena said, causing Natasha and Clint to groan.
"For one second, please. Just don't say anything."
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...…..
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Slowly, he pushed open the door to the shop and walked inside with the gait of a man who knew where he stood in regards to everyone else. His steps were confident and intentional, as were the slow swerving of his face as he took notice of some nice trinkets hanging low.
This was definitely the place. He couldn't even be surprised. Harry was such a disappointment that he would truly associate himself with 'friends' who frequented such squalid locations.
He chuckled. Even disappointments make themselves useful given enough time.
This time however, Harry really had outdone himself that Norman couldn't help but feel proud of his son. A fully intact, if not old model, Spider-Man suit that had been cleaned of any of its fancy gadgets. It wasn't the suit that made Norman happy, oh no no. It was the fact that this was the second piece of hardware Harry had gotten of Spider-Man and that they both came from the same place.
The clown behind the mask was truly an insect if he was pawning off his own damaged suit for money. But whatever.
The fact remained that there was a high possibility that Spider-Man would sell off his suits to this shop, but maybe this was also where he was buying whatever material his new suits were made out of. Those weren't lab-grown, he would know.
"Good evening, sir. Welcome to Junk 'N Stuff, how can I help you?" The man behind the counter said and he earned the barest of Norman's acknowledgement due to how cleanly dressed and professional he looked.
Still there was something about the generalism of his words that made Norman frown. "You don't know who I am, do you?"
"Not really, but I'm aware of the reference." The man replied. "I'm Isaac by the way, Mr…"
"Osborn." He said derisively, but again did not get the reaction he was looking for. He placated himself by taking the lack of recognition as evidence of just how low the establishment was.
"Mr. Osborn. How can I help you?"
He put on an empathetic smile, a friendly and genial expression on his face, as he came over to the counter and forced an embarrassed crinkle on his brows.
"I don't know how to say this, but eh, my son, Harry, he's a huge Spider-Man fan and he recently purchased a torn Spider-Man suit from you." He gave the man a look to ensure he was getting the message being built. The man did.
"I did recently sell a Spider-Man suit, yes, and it can be refunded as long as it has not been tampered with in any way."
Norman smiled. "Oh no, that's not the issue. I was wondering if you had," he looked around the shop, and then at the side door behind the counter, "any other pieces. My son is a huge fan of the local hero."
"I think I have one of his older sets, it's quite expensive." Norman sneered in his heart when he heard that. Harry had told him about this Isaac's 'brilliant' plan of collecting old hero gear as legacy pieces and reselling them as such years down the line. It was smart as he could see some old idiots buying such banal things just on the idea of 'exclusivity'.
No, that wasn't why he was here. He didn't care all that much about Spider-Man's old suit, not when he couldn't scrub a speck of DNA off it. What he was more interested in was his theory that this man had more to sell that torn spandex.
"Is that all you sell, prop items and hero wear?"
Isaac smiled while he shook his head, leaning in to fake a whisper in a normal tone.
"Tell me what you want and I'll tell you if I have it."
"I don't suppose you have a Super Soldier Serum, do you?" It was meant as a joke, mostly, to see how he would react to a high bar and Norman admitted that the initial reaction was something he expected.
"The Super Soldier Serum, now that's one rare find and I admit I don't have those in stock. Not like the Captain left any miracle vials behind either."
Norman froze in shock. Not because of the expected lack of a serum that the average citizen knew nothing about, but because of how casually he said it. But somehow the man wasn't finished.
"I don't have it, regrettably, but I have other similar options with varying effects. Interested?"
"Show me." His greed almost split out into a manic grin but he controlled it and gave a composed reply.
He rolled out a catalog and presented it to Norman, and while he still remained doubtful, he read through it.
—NZT-48 (Limitless): A wonder drug that provides the user access to 100% of their brain capacity, massively enhances cognitive function, unparalleled focus and extreme clarity to utilize every iota of acquired information.
It is highly addictive and the side effects of unsupervised use are every other side effect that happens before death.
Price: $1,500.
This. This was clearly an experimental drug, anyone could see that, but the mental effects was something most would get hooked on, not the aftereffects.
He had experience with experimental drugs so it would be fun so see what this one was made of. If it was real, he reminded himself.
—Witcher Mutagen (Witcher): A vial of magically enhanced, alchemical and genetically alterations used on viable individuals, most preferably at a young age. Survivors gain enhanced reflexes, strength, senses and slowed aging.
A starter pack of permanent buffs that are integral to monster hunting and general survival.
Price: $56,000
A magically made (or was it alchemically made) reagent for gene modifications. He would have been sold if it wasn't for the part about magic. While the existence of the arcane might as well be a fact in present day, Norman found that he cared little for the fabled art. Nothing said 'poor' more than 'magic'.
The next one was interesting to say the least.
—Compound V (The Boys): Now, how about we play the ultimate superhero gamble? One shot, one gulp, one needle of this miracle juice and you get to spin the superhero lottery. Laser eyes, flight, super strength, super speed, dick sword, sword dick… one spin to win them all.
Price: $50,000,000.
So far the few ones that had caught his eyes were on a heavy tipping scale but he couldn't say anything about them as the Super Soldier Serum was also known to be highly unstable, except for the perfect integration in one Steve Rogers. These options were staying true to the theme in a brutally honest way that Norman found he wasn't exactly fond of.
—Mirakuru (DC): A military 'sanctioned' wonder drug(which says a lot about its nature) that grants a sizable boost to one's strength, durability and healing.
Most would call the effectual aggression and mental instability a negative effect, but seriously, does this look like something deemed safe for civilian use?
Price: $6,000,000.
They all looked like the super soldier serum in different fonts. Norman also wondered why the NZT was the cheapest. The after effects couldn't be that bad to drop down the value to something as banal as hard drugs.
"Give me a sample of the NZT." He could almost hear the cackling in his own head as he asked for one of the cheapest things in the catalog.
The man who had remained silent ever since swiftly procured the drug in a small capsule containing five pills.
Without even waiting for testing or any scientific caution someone in his profession was supposed to have, he threw one of the pills into his mouth and the laughter in his head instantly exploded.
Calculations rang across his eyes and mind so fast that he could almost picture them. His brain carried out a mental toll that it had never been able to and through it all, all Norman could feel was exhilarating freedom.
With this he was no doubt the smartest person in the world. Forget the super soldier serum, he could create an army of hulk if he wanted. He could create an army of monsters that could match up to a god.
This. This was evolution.
He looked at the man behind the counter and his grin split wide. There was no hiding the mania this time.
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