132. Mission Mars 2

The doors to NASA's control center hissed open, and President Matthew Ward stepped out, his face carved in granite determination. Behind him, the high-level officials filed out in silence, each carrying the weight of what they had just witnessed — a colossal wall on Mars, shrouded in unnatural fog, defying every scientific explanation.

The group walked briskly down the corridor, turning into a secured wing of the facility — a private, soundproofed meeting chamber lined with reinforced panels and anti-surveillance tech, built for moments exactly like this.

The door shut with a dull thunk.

Everyone took their seats around the long conference table. No aides. No recordings. Just the six of them — President Ward, Marcus Leland, Secretary of State Ross, Secretary of Defense Elaine Park, CIA Director Hensley, and National Security Advisor Linda Carroway.

For several minutes, no one spoke.

The room was steeped in tension, each person lost in thought, parsing the implications of what they'd just seen — a structure that shouldn't exist, guarded by a fog that defied natural laws.

Everyone except Ross.

His fingers tapped lightly on the polished wood table, not from anxiety, but restlessness. His thoughts weren't on Mars. They were 238,000 miles away from it — orbiting a different problem altogether.

The Avengers.

Ross's obsession with controlling or dissolving the Avengers Initiative hadn't waned in the slightest. Despite the years, despite the public support for them, despite the world-saving record — to Ross, they were still a rogue element. Unchecked power. And now, with the Martian revelation threatening to destabilize geopolitical balance, he saw an opportunity. Or rather, wanted one.

But President Ward's ironclad demeanor made it clear: now was not the time.

So Ross stayed quiet… for now.

Then, the President finally leaned forward, his hands clasped tightly together. His eyes were sharp, scanning every face in the room.

"We're sending people to Mars."

The words hit like a thunderclap.

Elaine Park blinked. Hensley sat up straighter. Carroway raised an eyebrow. Even Leland tilted his head slightly, processing.

Ross was the only one who didn't flinch — his gaze hardened.

The President continued, "That fog isn't just a weather anomaly. That wall isn't just a geological fluke. We've poked something out there. And it's not going to reveal itself unless we show we're willing to meet it face to face."

Elaine spoke first, measured and calm. "With all due respect, sir, we're talking about a manned Mars mission. That's not a six-month plan — that's years. Training, logistics, long-term supply chains—"

"We don't have years," Ward interrupted. "We have four months."

Murmurs erupted.

Even Leland — usually stoic — furrowed his brow. "Four months is... optimistic."

"Make it realistic," Ward said. "I don't care how you do it. Pull from every available asset. NASA, SpaceX, Stark residuals, black ops tech — I want boots on the ground. Not probes. People."

Ross, who had been uncharacteristically quiet, leaned forward, unable to hold it in anymore.

"With all due respect, sir… this is a colossal misallocation of resources. A manned Mars mission, under these circumstances, is nothing but a gamble. We don't even know if this structure is hostile or even significant. For all we know, it could be an abandoned bunker from God-knows-what."

Ward's eyes narrowed. "You have an alternative, Ross?"

"Yes." Ross sat straighter. "Bring the Avengers in. Or at least establish a failsafe around them. If this does turn hostile, they're the only ones capable of responding at the needed scale."

There it was — the card Ross had been itching to play.

Ward didn't even blink.

"No."

Ross stiffened. "Mr. President, you're making a mistake. They're loose cannons. The world still doesn't know what they're capable of. You want to send soldiers to another planet, but you won't even rein in superhumans on this one?"

Ward's voice dropped to ice. "This isn't about your obsession with superheroes, Ross. This is about Mars. And right now, your priorities are misplaced."

Ross opened his mouth again, but the President cut him off.

"You've been waiting to bring this up — and I get it. You think Earth's biggest threat still wears a cape. But I've seen the footage. That fog — that thing — isn't going to be stopped with a Hulk Smash or a vibranium shield. This is a different battlefield."

Ross's jaw clenched, but he leaned back, swallowing the bitter taste of the President's rebuke.

Leland cleared his throat, stepping into the tension.

"There are… a few practical issues," he said, redirecting the conversation. "One — the time frame. The minimum launch window, with full prep and safe crew transport, is a year. Maybe ten months if we fast-track every protocol."

Ward didn't hesitate. "You've got four."

Leland didn't argue — but his expression made it clear that it was going to cost. "We'll need to reactivate dormant programs. Pull staff from international agencies. Secure launch vehicles."

Park added, "We also need to prepare contingency plans for in-atmosphere unknowns. What if the fog disables onboard systems? What if the wall emits radiation?"

Carroway finally spoke. "We should assume it's intelligent. That fog is too deliberate. We can't afford to treat this like we're exploring Yellowstone."

Ross muttered, "Or we could focus on the threats we already know exist."

Ward glanced at him but ignored the jab.

"Build the mission profile," Ward ordered. "I want names. Crew candidates. Prototypes for new shielding and fog-penetration tech. And I want updates daily."

Leland nodded. "Understood. We'll draft proposals by morning."

And so, for the next several hours, the room became a hive of rapid-fire planning. Issues were raised and batted down — oxygen reserves, communication fail-safes, surface mobility. Modular habitat construction. AI-assisted diagnostics.

Ward pushed for speed. Leland balanced with caution. Park and Carroway filled in logistical and psychological gaps. Hensley prepared global obfuscation measures. Ross remained mostly silent, arms crossed, his thoughts distant.

Still fuming.

In his mind, Ross kept replaying the President's rejection. His pride had been wounded, yes — but more than that, he felt the administration was sleepwalking toward danger, eyes fixed on a red planet while Earth's ticking time bomb — the Avengers — continued unchecked.

And yet… he couldn't deny the footage from Mars. That structure had weight. Presence. Purpose.

A mystery like that would not stay hidden forever.

---

As the meeting finally drew to a close — with blueprints sketched, names shortlisted, and timelines scrawled across digital boards — President Ward stood again.

"We're going to Mars," he said, voice calm but fierce. "And whatever's hiding under that fog… we'll be the first to find it."

No one argued.

Not even Ross.

But deep inside his mind, a second thought lingered:

"God help us if we're not the first ones there."