Hulk Peter David (best motivational novels txt) đ
- Author: Peter David
Book online «Hulk Peter David (best motivational novels txt) đ». Author Peter David
âYouâre the head of this base!â
âYes, Iâm aware of that. Just as they are aware,â he said sharply, âthat I am the father of the chief scientist attached to the situation, who, in turn, is romantically involved with an atomic bomb on two legs. Talbot apparently sold them on the notion that my close relationship to the principal players in this little drama presents a conflict of interest, since obviously I wonât have my priorities in place.â
âBut . . . thatâs ridiculous! âClose relationshipâ? You and I havenât spoken for close to a decade, and Bruce told me you threatened his life if he ever came near me again!â
âWell, itâs one of those odd circumstances where my failures as a father arenât working in my favor. Ironic, I know. Usually my parental shortcomings reflect so well on me.â
âAll right, Iâm sorry.â She sighed. âI didnât mean toââ
He waved it off. âBetty, this old skin has developed so much armor plating over the years, you couldnât get under it with anything short of dynamite. The bottom line is I donât set policy.â He shook his head, looking as if heâd been personally betrayed, which was probably exactly how he felt. âI had no idea Glen would go around me like this. IâI miscalculated what he was capable of, and I failed you.â
She fixed a look on him as she shook her head, sagging into the chair opposite him. âYou didnât fail me.â She sighed. âI wasnât counting on you in the first place.â Then she frowned. âYou know, believe it or not, that was meant to be consoling, but it didnât come out that way at all, did it?â
âNot in the least,â he agreed, his mouth twitching into a smile beneath his mustache. âDonât worry about it, though. Youâre likely just out of practice when it comes to me.â
âVery likely, yes. So, what am I supposed to do now?â she asked.
He shrugged one shoulder. âI would tell you to go and say good-bye to Banner, but Iâve already been informed thatâs out of the question.â
She couldnât believe it. The only reason she had contacted her fatherâaside from the fact that sheâd been scared out of her mindâwas that she felt by going through him, she would be able to maintain some control of, and involvement with, the situation. Instead, through Talbotâs duplicity, the one person who might be able to prevent the entire predicament from spiraling out of control was being banished like a dissident Russian to a Gulag.
âAll I can tell you, Betty,â Thunderbolt Ross informed her with what he likely thought was reassurance, âis that Iâll be watching every move that Talbot makes. At the slightest hint of a breach, Iâll make the case to pull him out of there.â
âIt will be too late,â she said flatly. âWhatever Glen does is going to make matters so much worse, so quickly, this place will be coming down around your ears. Youâre going to be busy filling out paperwork requisitioning a new barn door while a herd of horses will already be ten miles away.â She stood. âIâm going to see Bruce. Right now.â
Ross shook his head with a resigned sigh, but she didnât quite understand the message until she opened the door and saw two burly guards blocking her way.
âBetty, Iâm sorry,â said Ross, and he really did sound apologetic. âItâs time for you to go home.â
Barely five minutes later, Betty was looking down from her seat in a chopper at the desolate desert floor as she flew home.
She thought bleakly, This is the last time Iâm looking at this while itâs in one piece. Theyâll never be able to handle Bruce. Never. Putting Glen Talbot in charge of Bruce Banner is like using a sledgehammer to open a bottle of nitroglycerin.
playing with fire
Bruce was beginning to remember.
As he lay on his bed in the containment cell, pieces, fragments of what heâd seen, were starting to fall into place like the parts of a jigsaw puzzle. He was starting to realize that it was simply a matter of being willing to accept what was being presented to him, that it wasnât just that he didnât remember; his mind was doing everything it could to block it all out. He couldnât help but wonder how much of that was as a result of the . . . other . . . within him, the other that would do whatever was required to keep those recollections at armâs length.
How ironic, mused Bruce. How remarkably ironic that a being who was the living incarnation of strength, who feared nothing physically, was repulsed by something as ephemeral as memory. It made Bruce feel strong in a way, as if heâ
A number of small openings mechanically appeared in the walls around Bruce. He sat up and saw gun barrels pointing at him from everywhere, enough guns to Swiss cheese him before he took another breath. And they were accompanied by laser sightings. There were so many red laser targeting dots on him that he looked like heâd come down with a sudden case of measles so massive that the spots had actually broken out on his clothing.
The door burst open, startling him. What the hell is going on? Bruce wondered, and even as he did so, he felt something else, deeper within him, stirring and readying itself, like a child in utero responding to a loud noise. Bruce didnât know what to do first. He couldnât decide whether to work on quelling the small but dangerous uprising he felt rooting around in his brain, or to focus on what was apparently a change in the status quo.
Then Glen Talbot walked in.
At that moment, with a burst of clarity, Bruce Banner knew precisely what was going to happen. The exact details were open to debate, but the outcome wasnât in doubt. The only thing left to ponder was just how long it would take, and Bruce Bannerâever the scientistâcouldnât help
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