Chapter 15

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     Janet strode eagerly into the cockpit of the transport, where a pilot sat waiting to depart. A wetsuit clung to her skin as she pulled on a sleek jacket and conducted final evaluations of her weapons and additional equipment. Strange followed her inside, his cloak billowing behind him. As he entered, he scanned the interior of the aircraft with keen, curious eyes.

     "How did Oscorp manage to get their hands on a fully functioning Quinjet?"

     "We built it," Janet replied, shoving her pistol back into its holster. "Some technology was acquired. Some we discovered for ourselves. This one is outfitted with the most cutting edge capabilities Oscorp has to offer. I think you'll be surprised by what she can do."

     Strange gazed thoughtfully through the viewport, his hands resting on the back of the empty copilot's seat. "So S.H.I.E.L.D. tech is acceptable as long as it's in Oscorp's possession."

     Her voice remained calm but sharpened to a cutting edge. "Technology and its benefits belong to everyone, doctor, not just a select few. Surely you understand that."

     Smirking, he gave a wry laugh and said nothing in reply. There it was: the arrogance that had made her blood boil since the day she met him. The difference was that now it was the result of some kind of self-righteous superiority complex that came from saving the world. By being annoying, she reminded herself.

     Scornfully, Janet surveyed the robes he had insisted upon wearing over his suit. "Will you ever take off those ridiculous clothes? Did you not see how the technicians were looking at you?"

     "They seemed to be admiring the view," Strange riposted with a mischievous smile. "Besides, I prefer leaving some things to the imagination."

     He glanced pointedly at her suit, raising an eyebrow in mock disapproval. Fighting the urge to strike him, her hands balled into fists, her eyes like icy daggers.

     "Not that I'm complaining," he added with a smirk.

     Refusing to avert her gaze, Janet addressed the pilot. "Hayes, when we reach a desirable altitude, throw the doctor out the airlock."

     Clearing his throat nervously, Hayes seemed uncertain as to whether or not she was serious.

     "There's an airlock?" Strange quipped. "You're right. I am surprised."

     Rolling her eyes, she dropped into the copilot's chair and began monitoring the Quinjet's systems. He was trying to get to her—that much was obvious. It was likely that he was going to make this short journey as miserable as possible, and Janet was starting to realize that the mission might actually be the easier challenge.

     "You might want to strap yourself in," she remarked coolly, casting a glance over her shoulder.

     Removing his hands from the back of her chair, Strange moved toward the nearest row of seats, which was built into the side of the aircraft. Across from him was a second row, all identical chairs with cushions, armrests, and no legs. Just as he was beginning to figure out the unfamiliar double seatbelt that crossed over his chest in an X shape, the Quinjet hummed to life. Hayes' fingers danced over the console with ease, and Janet activated the communications system, informing the technicians that they were ready to depart.

     The towering doors of Oscorp Tower's hangar bay opened, and sunlight flooded the space between them. Activating the transport's cloaking device, Hayes initiated takeoff procedure. The Quinjet soared into the sky, and Strange craned his neck to gaze through the viewport. A sea of clouds rushed toward them. Entering the coordinates the doctor had given him, Hayes set course for the magical anomaly, having no idea what would happen when they found it.

     **********

     Less than two hours later, the target appeared on their scanners, which began beeping and flashing incessantly.

     "We've got something!" exclaimed Hayes, pouring over the information streaming across the console. "It's moving, and it's beyond our coordinates, but the scanners picked it up." He turned expectantly to Janet. "Next move?"

     "Decrease altitude," she replied, eyes fixed on the display screens. "Let's see if there's anything on the surface of the water."

     They were flying over open ocean now, with no land in sight. Descending beneath the clouds, the Quinjet tilted into a steady dive.

     "What are you seeing?" Strange called behind them.

     Raising her eyes from the screens, Janet focused her gaze on the water slipping by the viewport. "Nothing—I see nothing."

     Within minutes, they were hovering directly above the source of the signal, but there were no visible signs of any abnormal activity.

     "Must be below the surface," she sighed. "I expected this."

     "Now what?" asked Strange.

     "Take us down," she said, ignoring him and addressing Hayes. "Activate aquatic systems."

     "Got it," the pilot nodded.

     "Aquatic—?" Unbuckling his restraints, Strange jumped out of his seat and lunged for the back of Janet's chair as the jet continued to lose altitude.

     "What are you doing?" she cried angrily. "Sit down, Strange!"

     "Does this thing—?"

     "She was made for this!" Janet interrupted sternly. "Now sit down before—"

     They hit the water, and the impact caused the Quinjet to shudder. Strange fell forward but maintained his grip on the chair. Instinctively, Janet blinked, and when she opened her eyes again, there was nothing but deep, infinite blue. Their pace had slowed tremendously, and now they were leveling out into a fixed decline. They continued to move forward, however, following the path of their target.

     Peering over her shoulder, Strange studied the displays and every new detail the scanners were feeding them. She glared up at him, irritated by him invading her personal space, but then she noticed something odd. His skin was pale, his hands trembling. He put on a brave face, but there was a flicker in his eyes—a flicker of fear. Briefly, Janet considered asking what was the matter with him, but then she thought better of it.

     "Picking up something on sonar," said Hayes.

     Her eyes shifted to his screen. "Got a reading?"

     The pilot pressed a button, saying nothing in response. Instantly, a large shape appeared on his display. It was long and level, with rounded ends and a clearly structural design.

     "Is that a—?"

     "Submarine," Strange finished for her. He seemed intrigued but concerned by this unexpected discovery.

     Hayes looked at her, awaiting orders, and Janet pondered in silence. Finally, she raised her head and gazed through the viewport.

     "We can't contact Norman. Our transmission might be intercepted, and then we'll have lost the element of surprise. We have no choice but to go in blind, and hope we're not starting World War III."

     "Wait," Strange implored, holding up a hand. "We don't have to take that risk. I can explore the sub undetected and then report back to you what I've found. After that, we can decide if engaging our target openly is worth it."

     Swiveling around in her chair, she regarded him with undisguised ridicule. "And just how do you plan on doing that?"

     "My astral form," he explained seriously. "Do you remember what I told you about separating my spirit from my physical body? I can do that again, and I can use it to avoid being seen."

     Hayes appeared to be utterly bewildered, his mouth hanging slightly ajar, but Janet recalled that particular aspect of his tale, the one she had struggled most to comprehend. She sighed, uncertain, then waved her hand.

     "All right, fine," she conceded. "I guess it's worth a shot."

     Smiling, Strange gave her a grateful nod before returning to his seat. Lowering himself into it, he placed his arms on the rests and closed his eyes, relaxing against the solid support behind him.

     "What's he doing?" whispered Hayes.

     Silently, Janet shook her head, her gaze fixed on Strange. A moment later, he became limp, his chin dropping onto his chest and his fingers draping loosely over the edge of the armrests. The pilot sprang to his feet, and her eyes went wide.

     "What happened? cried Hayes. "Is he dead?"

     Standing, she took a cautious step toward Strange. He remained entirely motionless. Holding her breath, Janet advanced another step, then another. Reaching his side, she knelt and carefully placed two fingers against the side of his neck, just beneath his jaw. Feeling a shallow but steady throb, she caught herself breathing a sigh of relief.

     "He's alive."

     Wiping his brow, Hayes steadied himself against the back of his chair. "Great! So...what do we do now?"

     Straightening, Janet turned and met his anxious gaze. "We wait." 

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