THEIR SUBSEQUENT DAYS IN LONDON WERE MUCH LIKE the first: gray skies, drizzling rain, and an overwhelming silence over the entire embassy. Susan Storm walked the halls of the building, its dark paneled walls leading her in circles. She watched the officious staff go about their duties in silence, shuffling papers, not talking above a whisper, as if they, too, understood the dire implications of the events of the last few days. The disappearance of the Thames had taken a toll on everyone here, most of them native Brits, and the loss of such a public gathering place was a huge blow to their morale. Sue gathered from their vacant stares and lack of eye contact that they knew things were bad. She wondered if they blamed her for their loss, even though she had practically killed herself saving the people on the Millennium Wheel. It still stood, albeit with newly welded supports in place near its base, a jarring and ugly reminder of the losing battle the Four had fought there.

Sue couldn’t blame the staff for their sad demeanor. She, too, felt the heaviness all around the embassy, and the weather didn’t help. She watched her brother skulk off into corners, afraid of getting too close to anyone in the group. He stayed close only to Ben — they often did that after a particularly difficult fight. Neither would admit it, but she knew that the two very different personalities found comfort in each other after a battle. Reed was sealed off in a lab with Victor, looking for a way to sever the Surfer from his power source. All she was left to do was keep to herself, out of everyone’s way, nursing her headaches with paracetamol, walking the endless halls of the embassy, waiting. Waiting for better news.

She rounded the corner of another hallway, this one more familiar because it was near the temporary lab that had been set up for Reed and Victor. She couldn’t help the dark thoughts that formed in her head like a coming storm when she thought about Victor working with them again. Nothing good can come from this, she told herself again and again. And yet, as much as she hated to admit it, Reed needed help. If they were to have any chance of defeating the Surfer and saving the planet, they would have to pool all their available resources. And right now, Victor was one of those resources.

She walked quietly into the lab, hoping not to disturb Reed. She found him hunched over his PDA, typing madly at the device. Something about the familiar scene touched her; how many times had she walked into his lab at the Baxter Building and seen the very same thing? Even here in this place far from home, Reed was still the same man he always was. The man she loved.

Just then, Reed slammed his fist on the table and threw the PDA across the room. Such outbursts from him were rare, usually occurring only when he was unnecessarily provoked or extremely frustrated. The durable adamantium case saved the PDA from shattering against the floor, but the loud crash echoed in the otherwise silent room. Sue ran to his side, placing her arms on his shoulders.

“I can’t find the link,” he said. His voice was defeated and low.

“Shh…” she said, rubbing his shoulders, feeling the tense muscles beneath his uniform. He always tied himself in knots, she knew, both literally and figuratively. She tried to bring him some comfort by rubbing the stiff tendons in his neck. “Just relax,” she said, in a voice calm and soft. “Clear your mind. Breathe in deeply. Feel yourself letting go. All the way from your head to your feet.”

Sue could feel Reed loosen under her firm grip, his shoulders waving like liquid beneath his suit, his right arm extending and collecting like a puddle on the floor. Reed slid down lower in his chair, his body stretching and softening. Sue came closer to him, bringing her lips to his neck, caressing his skin with her breath. “Relax,” she said in a whisper. She went to kiss him. “Feel your pulse slowing down…”

Suddenly Reed’s body became as rigid as steel. He froze, leaving Sue in the middle of a now one-sided kiss. “A pulse,” he said.

“What?” Sue asked.

“A tachyon pulse!” Reed exclaimed, stretching his hand to the corner of the room and retrieving his PDA. “Thank you!” He grabbed her quickly, planting a swift kiss on her lips. Then he went back to his furious typing.

“Glad I could be of help,” she said, crossing her arms and watching him retreat into his work once again. She stayed for a moment longer before quietly leaving the room.

The next few days found Reed — and sometimes Victor — furiously implementing the new plan. Blueprints and schematics lay strewn across the floor of the lab as special metal posts were welded together. Four small satellite dishes were brought into the lab and left in the corner, near where Victor stood. Victor stayed quiet, watching Reed work. He had seen the blueprints and, secretly, he was impressed. Reed had done it. So it seems, Victor thought, that I’m not the only one with a plan. His eyes burned with envy as he watched Reed construct the new device. Victor pitched in when he had to, boosting the electrical dexterity of the device where Reed asked him to, helping him place the heavy and awkward components where they needed to be. All the while Sue assisted her fiancé, avoiding Victor’s increasingly rabid stares, focused solely on one task: saving the planet from the clutches of the Silver Surfer.

When they were done, Reed summoned the others and some of the military personnel into the laboratory.

General Hager entered the lab without his usual entourage. He looked around the room for his aide, Captain Raye, and noticed her absence. Sue’s brother also was absent, which seemed to further sour the general’s already-gruff demeanor.

Victor allowed Reed to take center stage, at which Reed proceeded with an explanation for the strange equipment all around them — equipment that Victor was sure Hager’s mind could never comprehend. Inevitably, the general felt the need to interrupt. “Just what the hell is a tachyon pulse?”

Reed slowed down, attempting to translate the complex science behind the device into lay terms. “It’s a stream of subatomic particles that move faster than light,” he explained.

“It’s the link between the Surfer and his board,” Sue added.

Ben Grimm leaned in closer, examining one of the complex portable devices. “These things Reed’s building can jam the signal.”

Victor saw that the general still looked perplexed. Reed, ever the optimist, grabbed his PDA and punched in a few commands. Suddenly, a holographic projection rose above it, displaying a jamming field connected by four separate points. The projection showed how the four points could create a field of energy, the output of which would sever the link between the Surfer and his board.

The general’s eyes lit up. “Like catching fish in a net,” he said. He looked over at Victor, who ignored him.

“Exactly,” Reed said. “When we activate the field, it’ll separate him from his board, making him powerless. In theory, anyway.”

The general, unsurprisingly, ignored Reed’s disclaimer. “How long before it’s operational?” Hager asked.

“Three hours,” Reed responded.

With that, Victor left the crowded laboratory. Soon, he thought. Better to let Reed and the others implement their plan. For now. There would be still be enough time for Victor to implement a plan of his own.

A few doors down from the lab, near the Fantastic Four’s quarters, Captain Raye was lost in thought. She had been reviewing the data on the Surfer, looking for new ways to approach the problem. Nothing in her training had prepared her for this, and yet still she pushed herself. Too little sleep and too much fear had nearly paralyzed her. The feeling of fear went against everything she had been trained to do: Find the problem, conquer the problem, eliminate the problem. Her dreams were haunted by thoughts of the coming apocalypse, nightmares where her body was slowly covered in a shiny silver alloy, leaving her unable to breathe and drying her up like the Thames River. She’d awake covered in sweat and wrapped in clammy sheets, her skin once again returned to its pale pallor, her eyes swollen and rimmed with redness.

She told herself to control it, to forget her fear and focus on solving the problem at hand. She told herself she had been spending too much time in the presence of odd characters: the video of the silver entity, the strange powers of the Fantastic Four, the creepy and metallic Victor Von Doom. She needed to be around normal people. She was tired of the company of these strangers.

She turned a corner, lot in her thoughts, and ran straight into Johnny Storm. She looked up to see the young man covered only by a white towel, wet from a shower in the nearby bathroom. She fought to control her eyes as they traveled over his trim and muscular physique. He can really fill out that uniform, one of her girlfriends had whispered suggestively to her. Raye had to admit that her friend was not wrong.

She cleared her throat and tried to sound official. Off-putting, even. “Mr. Storm, we’re heading to intercept the Surfer in ten minutes, with you or without you.” She kept her eyes locked on his, fighting the temptation to steal another glance at his body.

Johnny picked up on her forced seriousness and smiled. “You sure you didn’t just come here to see me in a towel?” He fumbled with his grip on the fabric around his waist, pretending it was about to fall. Pathetic, Raye thought, her face remaining passive and uninterested. Then she felt a blast of warmth, and the water clinging to Johnny’s exposed body started to dance and sizzle as he steamed himself dry.

Captain Raye made a disgusted noise in the back of her throat and attempted to walk by.

Johnny stepped in front of her. “Hey, why are you so down on me?” he asked. “You don’t even know me.”

Adjusting the papers in her hand, Captain Raye addressed him directly. “Actually, I know you very well. I read your classified personality profile. Jonathan Spencer Storm. Confident, highly competitive, unafraid to take risks.”

A big grin broke out on Johnny’s face. “Sounds right,” he said, stepping closer to her.

Raye continued in her matter-of-fact tone. “Reckless, irresponsible. Self-obsessed, bordering on narcissism. Involved in a long series of superficial romantic liaisons, indicating an inability to form lasting, meaningful relationships.”

“I sometimes cry during chick flicks. Was that in there?” She scowled at him. “Look,” Johnny continued, “there’s more to me than just that. I swear. I just want to get to know you while there’s still time.” He tried using his very best puppy-dog face on her, but she was undeterred. She simply walked past him.

Johnny followed. “C’mon, Captain. At least tell me your first name,” he pleaded. Captain Raye remained silent and continued walking away from him. Johnny reached out to grab her shoulder. Before he knew what was happening, Captain Raye grabbed his wrist and threw him over her shoulder in a swift and classic judo move. Johnny landed flat on his back on the hard floor of the embassy, barely managing to keep his towel secure. His gaze rose up to meet her face, which was looking squarely down on him from above. “I’ve never been more in love with anyone than I am at this second.”

Captain Raye’s serious facade collapsed like a crumbling wall of bricks. She grinned in spite of herself, staring down at the half-naked man in front of her. She let out a small laugh. “The name’s Frankie,” she said. “Now get up and get your clothes on.”

She walked past the fallen hero, who still sat dumbfounded on the floor, and she could feel him watching her leave, his gaze as palpable on her body as an overcoat. She increased her pace until she was safely down the hall and out of his sight. Shaking her head, she reprimanded herself for being so easily swayed by his charm. You need more sleep, she told herself. That, and find some normal people to hang around. That is, if there’s still a world tomorrow.