Hulk Peter David (best motivational novels txt) 📖

surprising. After Ross had broken up Talbot’s little stomp-on-Banner session, Atheon had exerted its mysterious influence and gotten the entire wing from Sectors X through Z, Levels One through Seven, isolated so that only Atheon personnel were allowed there. Ross had been furious over the decision, raging that it was a calamitous mistake, but he hadn’t been able to get anyone to listen. This was one of those rare occasions where he hated being proven right.

“Jesus,” Ross breathed, and in the next breath said, “Get me Talbot.”

The intercom was a mass of crosschatter, and as Lieber tried to punch through it to raise Talbot, Ross watched in amazement. On the monitor, one of two techies stepped forward with a large-barreled gun attached to two tanks on his back. He fired, and a stream of gelatinous liquid covered the creature Ross referred to as the “Angry Man” in sticky foam. The Angry Man was stuck, struggling, the liquid congealing around him. He flicked some of it off, and it landed on one of the men, who was instantly frozen in it.

“Sir!” shouted Lieber. “I’ve got Talbot on channel six!”

Ross snapped the intercom dial over and barked, “Talbot, this is Ross. Talk to me.”

“Under control, General,” came Talbot’s voice. “I’ll let you know if we need you.”

Ross couldn’t believe what he was hearing. That was it, the final straw.

“Unacceptable,” Ross said flatly. “Unseat your asses down there immediately. I want a full-court evacuation now. I’m shutting you down. Lieber! Who’ve we got down there?”

Lieber was ahead of him, turning with a clipboard. “I’ve already scrambled units Bravo and Laramie, General—Bravo from above, Laramie from below. They can converge on site in thirty seconds.”

It was, of course, a breach of protocol for Lieber to have taken that initiative, and Ross could have kissed him for it. “Good thinking! Send them in!”

Shouting into a headset, Lieber shouted, “Bravo, Laramie, you are cleared! Go! Go!”

Ross continued to watch on the monitor, and couldn’t help but feel some degree of awe. The Angry Man was still struggling against the liquid, and damned if he wasn’t fighting it off. Some of the old warrior instincts surged in Ross. Now here was a hell of an opponent!

Then he quickly shoved aside the thought. This wasn’t a sporting event. Good men were going into combat against science unleashed. It was like sending troops to run to a ground zero to try to catch a descending atomic missile with their teeth.

“Talbot, we’re coming in! Acknowledge! Lieber, ETA?”

“Fifteen seconds, General!”

The intercom was still silent. “Talbot, I said acknowledge!”

And suddenly Lieber shouted, “General! They’re locking down!”

“What did you say?”

“Lock down,” snapped Glen Talbot. At that moment, watching the Hulk struggling against the hardening foam, he didn’t know how much power the creature possessed. He didn’t know what it would take to stop him. He didn’t know how many men he might lose. But there was one thing he knew beyond question: There was no way in hell he was going to defer this thing to Thunderbolt Ross so that he could turn around and make Talbot look like a fool.

Wein looked at Talbot incredulously. “But didn’t you just hear the general?”

Talbot was in absolutely no mood to screw around. He pulled a sidearm and aimed it straight at Wein’s face. “I said lock down.”

Wein gulped and activated the lock down mechanisms. Talbot’s gaze flicked from the readouts—waiting for the signal lights to come on—to the monitors themselves, where he could see the doors sliding into place. He nodded in approval and saw the “engaged” lights snap on, indicating that the doors were locked in place.

“I’ll show you whose ass is unseated,” he snarled. “Get a security squad up here. I’m taking them and dissecting that green son of a bitch myself.” When Wein didn’t respond immediately, he cocked the hammer of his pistol and snarled, “Do it!”

Wein did it.

The squad leader of Bravo company would have had just enough time to slide under the door before it locked down, but he would have been cut off from the rest of his troops. Wisely, he skidded to a halt just as the door thudded into place. From just beyond the door, he could hear the angry roars of what sounded like a rampaging lion, or perhaps a rhino. It was hard to tell what kind of creature was loose, but it was making all manner of noise. Whatever it was, it was big.

He shouted into his headset, “C and C this is 04. Doors are down.”

Up in C and C, also known as C2, Ross spat out the name “Talbot!” as if it was a profanity. Then he said into the microphone, “Oh four, this is C2 attempting override. Stand by one,” which meant that he should stay on station until further communication. Ross glanced at the screen.

The Angry Man was still struggling with the foam, and it was slowing him down, but it wasn’t stopping him from advancing on the Atheon security guards, waving his arms and bellowing like something from a Godzilla film. The guards were in full retreat. Amateurs, Ross thought grimly as he went on to the radiophone.

Despite the crisis that was before him, Ross’s voice was calm and even. Indeed, he was in his element. Struggling with mountains of paperwork, trying to finesse politicos and play nice with corporate goons, these were all things that grated on him, things that he hated. Give him an enemy to fight, troops to maneuver, strategies to implement, and he was a happy man.

“Break, break,” he snapped, his voice cutting across all bands. “All units this is C2. I say, spear point; repeat, spear point. Location: Sector Zulu, Level Four, Frame 256. Subject is Banner, Bruce. Interior ThreatCon is Charlie. I repeat, Charlie. All Laramie units, respond. Secure, neutralize, and report status, over.” He held back Bravo, hoping he wouldn’t need them, fearing he would.

By pure happenstance, the great green berserker who had once been Bruce Banner turned, faced a