Chapter 229: Thor Gets Tased
Ethan hung up and stood with the phone in his hand for a moment.
Reed had tried to use Thor as leverage. Which raised an interesting question: what, exactly, did Reed think the relationship was? Because threatening someone with harm to a friend required a fairly specific read of how much that friend mattered — and Reed had apparently concluded that Thor mattered enough to Ethan that the threat would land.
He was wrong on the facts. Ethan and Thor had met once, had a lightning duel, and parted on reasonable terms. It was a ★Friend relationship at best. Not nothing, but not the kind of bond that bends a person's decisions.
So either Reed's intelligence was bad, or someone had fed him bad intelligence deliberately, or — and this was the more interesting option — Reed had concluded that Ethan was the kind of person who could be moved by threats to anyone he knew, regardless of how well he knew them. A general exploit rather than a targeted one.
That tells me something about how he operates.
He also thought about who might be backing Reed's confidence. The Illuminati's current roster, as he understood it, was not exactly frightening. Black Bolt was strong but allied rather than subordinate. The Inhumans weren't Pierce's army. Kamar-Taj wasn't in Reed's column. The most dangerous person Reed could plausibly have access to was — he thought about it — Kuroto Dan, the so-called Ming, if Reed had somehow found him. That would explain a certain level of misplaced certainty.
Or it was simpler than that. Reed was very smart and unaccustomed to being outmaneuvered, and sometimes smart people made the mistake of thinking their intelligence was sufficient.
Ethan filed it and moved on.
On Reed's end, the line had gone dead with a flatness that answered his question without requiring words.
He looked at Thor.
"It seems," Reed said, with the measured tone of a man revising his model in real time, "that you and Ethan Cross aren't quite as close as you implied."
Thor looked furious in the specific way of someone who has been bound and is being spoken to condescendingly and has temporarily run out of options. "My brother Loki will come for me," he said. "And when he does—"
Reed stopped listening to the threat. He'd already moved on to the next calculation.
Thor had known Ethan. That much was real — Ethan had recognized the situation without needing it explained, which meant the connection was genuine. And anyone with a genuine connection to Ethan was not, by definition, someone to dismiss. Reed had made enough assessments of Hell's Kitchen's network to know that Ethan's acquaintances tended toward the capable.
This man was powerless right now. Something had happened — the hammer, presumably — that had cut him off from whatever he normally was. But the baseline was there. The bearing. The complete absence of fear even restrained and outnumbered.
Reed leaned forward slightly. "There's no reason this needs to be adversarial, Mr. — Thor. We're a legitimate organization. We maintain peace. We solve problems." He let that settle. "Ethan Cross, whatever you may think of him, leads what is essentially an unsanctioned criminal territory operating outside federal law. We, by contrast, work within legitimate structures." He paused. "I think a man like you — someone who believes in protecting the innocent — would find more alignment with us than with him."
Thor's expression was unreadable for a moment.
Then: "What is this Illuminati of yours, exactly?"
Reed recognized the shift in register — the question replacing the bluster. He leaned into it. "A coalition. The best available minds and capabilities, organized toward the goal of genuine stability. We believe in solutions, not chaos." He let his voice take on the warm confidence of a man explaining something he believes in. "Ethan's operation does what it wants, when it wants. We operate with accountability. I think you understand the difference."
Thor appeared to consider this. His eyes moved toward the hammer.
"Release me," he said. "Let me try for my hammer. If I can lift it, I'll hear more of what you have to say."
Reed assessed this quickly. Gesture of good faith. Low risk if the man was genuinely powerless. High return if he wasn't — because a Thor who could lift that hammer and chose to stay was a different kind of asset entirely.
He nodded to the agents.
They cut the restraints.
Thor crossed the ground to the hammer with the single-mindedness of someone who has been thinking about nothing else for an hour. He stood over it. He reached down with one hand, then both.
He pulled.
The hammer didn't move.
The agents watched. Nobody spoke.
Thor's face went through several things in rapid succession — effort, confusion, something rawer underneath. He straightened up. He looked at the sky. His hands were at his sides.
"Why," he said, quietly this time. It was not a question directed at Reed or the agents or anyone present.
The silence stretched.
Then the agents looked at Reed.
Reed had already recalculated. No leverage. No asset. Just a large man having a very bad day in a field in New Mexico.
He turned to go. Over his shoulder, with the specific tired contempt of a man who has wasted time he values: "Apparently the God of Thunder is afraid of a taser. Take him back inside."
The taser came out. Thor, weakened and off-balance and not paying attention, went down.
Reed walked back toward the facility without looking back.
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