AVENGERS: THE STONE RISE
PROLOGUE I OF II
11:45 PM
Edge of Lagos, Nigeria
Anthony Stark could prove to be a very impatient man and the far from amused smile lop-siding his lips to disguise it wasn't doing much to lessen the intense mood that had overtaken the makeshift camp. His expensive Giorgio Bandera shoes crafted by hand with two layers of snake skin didn't fare well traversing through the thick crowds of people and the congested ground swallowed up with litter and mud. This fact only served to exacerbate his rage at not opting for more chamelonizing wear like the ones adorning Steve's feet with the Nike insignia mudded over.
He forced himself to take a deep breath, correcting his slumped over position by sitting back, "You would think a drug lord like this would care to be on time for the chance to deepen his pockets."
Rogers agreed with a curt nod of his head, keeping his beefy arms tucked underneath one another, his own silent show of contempt. The top of his head nearly reached the shoddy ceiling, whereas Thor had to crouch a bit to squeeze in, while the Hulk waited outside as watch dog.
"Can I offer you gentlemen more iced tea?" the slender, dark woman in a traditional Nigerian garb asked, the lilt of her accent sweet and warm. She seemed to have been practicing that line down since any other attempt at speaking to her in English has been met with stutters and confusion.
It almost made Tony guilty for snapping at her, "No, no more tea!"
Captain America briefly raised to fingers to say no, not at the moment.
"I would care for refreshments, thank you," Hawkeye leaned over and took one of the glasses. "It's sweltering hot."
The woman raised another glass over towards Thor, who accepted it with a hoarse thank you as the glass seemed to dwarf a little in his grip. He felt positively irritated when the cold beverage disappeared in two gulps.
"I have a date in seven hours with a nap scheduled for half an hour ago, so where the hell is this dangerous drug guy?" Tony asked agitatedly at the woman, as if she had any clue where the man could be. Seemingly, her own instructions were to wait for them at the location and keep offering them cold tea and light food like crackers and tiny sandwiches. She blinked at him in response and reacted to his increasing anger with a genuinely apologetic demeanor.
After all, it wasn't her fault. He understood that much. It was mostly that burning, oven-like heat that threatened to turn his eyes to dust and his skin into a sweat-filled vat of bacteria. Flames of dryness licked at his throat, but he just swallowed it down. "This guy has ten minutes, or I'm leaving."
"Patience, Stark," Captain America said disciplined calm, "If anyone should wait around for him, it should be you. This guy is supposedly a technical genius. He distributes the narcotics through untraceable robots, after igniting the drugs with some special fibers to make tolerance irrelevant. It's a drug that guarantees the high affect every time. Something that can make him a very profitable man should he expand his business. The government isn't looking for his arrest, it's requiring his brain work."
"Then why isn't some S.H.E.I.L.D agent waiting around for him?" Tony countered.
"The government isn't the only one requesting him," Rogers replied, "There's also talk of the Nigerian militia using the drugs as rewards for their soldiers. It's my best guess that Foreign Affairs don't want hopped up soldiers with guns running things with drug distribution."
No one had noticed the woman disappeared until she returned a handful of minutes later with a chair she had to push in hard to fit. Captain moved quickly to aid her and when he saw the second chair she was struggling to move inside he asked, "What are these for?"
"I-I a terrible host. Um..." she tried to fish for the words she had memorized for various needs to accommodate them, her accent suffered worse for it, "Y-you all look most uncomfort, would you like to have a seat?"
"I'm fine Ma'am, and you've been just fine. If I may speak for my colleagues the only discomfort we're experiencing is waiting for Mr. Tunde"
"He be here," she said confidently. "In-in fact, he should be arriving in short, short time."
"Thank you for the information."
"If I may ask, what is it you need speak with him?"she said smoothly, though her accent wouldn't shake.
"That's classified Ma'am."
"Excuse me?" she blinked and seemed hard of hearing or uncertain of what that word meant.
"I can't disclose the-it's private."
"Private?" she echoed, before realizing she had made an offense. "Sorry me-"
"No need."
"Sorry me, but I am his guardian. This gentleman has hammer. I must protect Mista Tunde."
"His guardian?"
"Yes, no harm can be done to Mista Tunde. You must, you must understand."
"And how do you expect, let alone hope to defend Mr. Tunde from five men?"
"I am your guardian too," she responded.
The threat Captain America felt previously evaporated.
"Look, it's obvious she must mean serve, as in she's a servant. I don't think she even understands what guardian means," Tony sighed in exasperation to Rogers, gesturing with his hands.
"No," she reached into her pouch behind her, revealing a gun, "I understand clear. I protect Mista Tunde. I protect you."
Any sliver of broken attention amended quickly and intensely on her. Tony's body shot straight up and Thor placed his glass on the table.
"Ma'am, I'm going to have to ask you to deliver that weapon over to my possession, please," Captain America made sure his voice softened, but did not lack correct authority. He held his hand out and stepped slowly towards her.
"No, this is not ordinary gun. Mista Tunde deliver it to me. Special bullets. Mista Tunde radioactive-skin you can't touch. He lose control, I must shot him," she explained. "You try steal Mista Tunde, I shot you too."
The dark skinned woman's eyes were only intensified by the fiery resilience suddenly placed in them. "I know Mista Tunde a long time. Follow him long time. You only talk to him-no steal."
"Well, that's where things get sticky, Ma'am. What's your name? You look real young."
The comment made the woman indignant, but she bit her pride through it, "Sunday."
"Like the day of the week?"
"Is there any other, sir?"
"Well, alright. Sunday, you don't want any trouble and you sure don't want to get involved with S.H.E.I.L.D. It's our Defense and Intelligence center back home where we're from. If you leave the business to us, we'll make sure-I'll personally make sure-that Mr. Tunde is treated fairly. Now, he's done some bad things, like sell drugs to people, even to minors. I need you to understand that," he spoke with a personable softness.
"I'm not child. I know what he done. What we have is-what you say-private. I need him like you need him."
"Is he your husband, boyfriend?" Tony tried to find an angle to relate, at least so she didn't do anything crazy and try to shoot at them. The worst that could happen would be her blood on their hands and in a labyrinth country like Nigeria, there wouldn't be a law to look out for, but it wouldn't erase the guilt. Therefore, it didn't make sense to have to use drastic force.
She glared at Tony. "No. But I must protect."
"And we must protect our mission. Do you understand how that complicates things?"
"Stop talking so condescendingly to me!" she snapped, her accent wiped clean off her tongue, as if it never was there in the first place. She ripped the traditional head scarf off of her head, cascading down dark brown hair that touched her shoulders in a furious mess. Her temper flared at Rogers, as if it were his fault she had broken character, "Is that how you talk to all foreigners, as if we're utterly-and I mean utterly-stupid? Or is it just women who are allowed that charming side of yours?"
For the second time that evening, the woman commanded everyone's surprise and attention.
"Cool it, Virago. You already done messed this shit up bad enough. Just finish it up."
Came in through her ear piece. She was steaming, her fists balled, one of them around the gun. She glowered at Captain America like she had half a mind to shoot him where he stood. Instead she just exclaimed, "It's so damn hot!" she went over to the table and poured herself the melted remnants of what had been iced tea. She collapsed into the chair when she had finished. Breathing hard she checked the time beneath her traditional top, revealing a sleek watch.
"So, clearly, you're a spy." Tony said next to her.
She ran a hand through her hair, her lips in an unmistakable smirk, "You guys aren't so subtle yourself." That mischievous, plump, dark red smile in itself riled Thor in an alluring way, let alone the fierceness in her attitude. It reminded him of Jane and a small, forbidden smile crept onto his lips. Rogers, on the other hand, was at a loss for words and couldn't think of anything to say to the woman, other than, "Sorry...about talking to you like that."
She puffed up her high cheek bones, blowing the air out, "It's fine. It's not like you knew any better." Her skin, the color of deep chocolate glistened with sweat. "Ugh, I feel like my make up is going to run. Not a pretty sight, boys."
"Where are you from, really?" Tony asked, if not to just pass the time.
"Not to far from here, actually," she looked around, "My parents left when I was eight, grew up in Washington. They wanted me to be a politician and come back to change this messed up country. Instead, I became an agent of justice, if you will. Still pays the bills, but nothing that change anyone else's life."
"You never know," Thor said encouragingly, "You just might."
Her eyebrow arched a bit at his implications, but before Tony could sarcastically interject about the lameness of Thor's game, Bruce Banner opened the door and peered in, "Guys, we have company."
A/N: I actually have to start my shift now, but here's the first part of the prologue. What did you think of the plot so far? Is there anything I need to work on? Any mistakes. All helpful reviews are needed and appreciated.
Spades.