CHAPTER 12

Hope kept up Scott’s martial arts training, and he got better fast. She could still have kicked his butt if she’d wanted to, but at least he wasn’t completely outclassed. Meanwhile he and Hope also analyzed the layout of the Pym Tech Futures Lab, where Darren Cross housed the Yellowjacket project.

“It looks like the lab has its own isolated power supply,” Scott said, looking over a blueprint. That meant he wouldn’t be able to cut the alarms from outside like he had with Pym’s house.

“There’s a security guard posted around the clock,” she said. “We need you to take him out to deactivate the security systems.”

Shouldn’t be too hard, he thought, as long as the guard didn’t see him coming.

Hope pulled up a schematic drawing of the case holding the prototype Yellowjacket suit. “The Yellowjacket pod is hermetically sealed and the only access point is a tube we estimate to be about five millimeters in diameter,” she said.

Ah, Scott thought. This is where it gets hairy. “Why do I have a sick feeling in my stomach?”

Hope pulled up another view, this one showing the security on the pod itself. “The tube is protected by a laser grid and we can only power that down for fifteen seconds.”

“You’re going to need to signal the crazy ants to blow the servers, retrieve the suit, and exit the vaults before the backup power comes on,” Pym said.

Scott nodded. It was possible. Not an easy job—a long way from it. But possible.

He was still thinking about that and dabbing some alcohol on the mat burns from his latest sparring session, when Hope stuck her head into the room and said, “Hank wants you outside for target practice.”

When Scott got outside, Hank was holding two little discs, one in each hand. They looked like something a kid would shoot out of a toy gun. One was red and one blue. “The suit has no weapons, so I made you these discs,” Hank said. “Red shrinks. Blue enlarges.”

They practiced throwing them for a while, growing and shrinking various things out in Pym’s yard, until Scott was reasonably sure he could hit something with them if he had to. Then it was back to meeting the various species of ants Pym kept, so Scott suited up and headed underground one more time. “Solenopsis mandibularis. Known for their bite, the fire ants have evolved into remarkable architects. They are handy to get you in and out of difficult places.” While Pym said this, Scott ordered the fire ants to turn themselves into a bridge, and then ran across it. He had that down pretty good, but he was still having a hard time with the carpenter ants. They didn’t want to put the sugar cubes in the teacup, even after days of effort.

“You can do it, Scott,” Pym encouraged him. “Come on.”

Scott stared at the ants on the table. They didn’t do anything. Come on, ants, he thought. Move the sugar cube!

They still didn’t do anything. He sat back and tossed the earpiece on the table in frustration. “They’re not listening to me.”

“You have to commit,” Hope said. “You have to mean it. No shortcuts, no lies.”

“Throwing insults into the mix will not do anyone any good, Hope,” Pym commented.

“We don’t have time for coddling,” she pointed out. Cross was going to sell the Yellowjacket prototype any day now.

Pym knew this, which was why he wanted to avoid the conflicts with his daughter. “Our focus should be on helping Scott.”

“Really? Is that where our focus should be?” Pym saw he’d wounded her. Scott saw it, too.

She picked up the earpiece and in seconds had an army of ants moving the sugar cubes… but she didn’t stop there. Ants swarmed through the dining room. Columns marched up the wall, covering the chandelier and dimming the room. Scott got nervous. What was she going to do next? Her anger was kind of running away with her.

“Hope!” Pym barked.

She blinked and looked from Scott to Hank as if to say, See? I’m better at this than either of you. Then she started walking toward the door. On the way she stopped next to Pym and said, “I don’t know why I came to you in the first place.”

After she was gone, Pym was silent for a long moment. Then he said, “We can’t do this without her.”

Scott decided someone had to do something, and it wasn’t going to be either of them. That meant it had to be him.

“Oh, God,” she said when he found her sitting in her car, and got in. She was in the middle of removing the earpiece she’d used to control the ants.

“You gotta lock your doors,” he said, trying to break the ice. “I mean, really. There’s some weird folks in this neighborhood.”

“Do you think this is a joke?” she snapped. “Do you have any idea what he’s asking you to risk? You have a daughter.”

“I’m doing this for her,” Scott said. Didn’t she already know that?

“You know when my mother died I didn’t see him for two weeks?”

“He was in grief.”

“Yeah, so was I, and I was seven. And he never came back, not in any way that counted. He just sent me off to boarding school.” Ouch, Scott thought. “You know, I thought with all that’s at stake, just maybe we might have a chance at making peace. But even now he still wants to shut me out.”

That’s where she was wrong, and Scott needed her to know it. Pym was right. They weren’t going to get this job done without Hope, and she wasn’t going to be able to help them if she couldn’t get some kind of handle on the reasons for why her father did what he did. “He doesn’t want to shut you out. He trusts you.”

“Then why are you here?” she scoffed.

“It proves that he loves you.” He wasn’t getting through to her. She looked away. “Hope,” he said, trying one last time. “Look at me. I’m expendable. That’s why I’m here. You must’ve realized that by now. I mean, that’s why I’m in the suit and you’re not. He’d rather lose the fight than lose you.”

That was it. That’s all he could do. Pym was a jerk, and he’d never be a Father of the Year candidate, but he was trying to protect Hope now. Maybe make up for lost time a little. If she didn’t see it… “Anyway,” he said, and started to open the car door.

“You know, I didn’t know you had a daughter when I called the cops on you,” she said. Scott had the feeling there was an apology in there somewhere. “What’s her name?”

“Cassie.”

“It’s a pretty name.” Okay. Now they were getting somewhere. They might even start to develop a rapport that didn’t involve her beating him up in the martial arts drills. “You have to clear your mind, Scott. You have to make your thoughts precise. That’s how it works.” She handed him the earpiece. “Think about Cassie, about how badly you want to see her, and use that to focus.”

Scott closed his eyes and concentrated. Nothing.

“Open your eyes,” she said. “And just think about what you want the ants to do.”

He did. Hope had put a penny on the dashboard. Just think, Scott told himself. He let his mind wander out, looking for the ants, and some of them appeared around the penny. Two of them picked it up and held it on end. Hey, Scott thought. I’m doing it!

“Good,” she said. For the first time since he’d known her, she had a real smile on her face.

He felt so good about it that he had the ants spin the penny like a top. Just for fun.