AN:- There is a post on Tumblr featuring the cast of the Avengers in other roles where they are dressed in 1920s period costumes. Someone suggested writing a gangster AU based on this post. So here is the gangster AU of the Avengers.
Prologue
Through the cold grey dawn of Massachusetts a Ford Model A chugged in the late night. Wind howled all about the car, threatening to push it off the road. It kept up a constant speed though, the carburettor backfiring a couple of times as it chugged down the potholed road. An uncommon sight at nearly three quarters to four on a Friday night.
The Ford finally ground to a halt outside an isolated telephone exchange and the back door opened. Out of the car a tall man unfolded his long limbs, glancing left and right as he set a black hat down on his bald head. His suit was the same dark black, a neat waistcoat buttoned beneath and a black tie in a simple half-Windsor. Two things distinguished him from any other gentleman you would see stepping from a car in a fine suit. The first was the dark colour of his skin, and the second was the eyepatch set over a puckered scar. He sported a neatly trimmed moustache and thin goatee with the faintest hint of graying hair to it.
The man stepped from the car and walked up to the telephone exchange, stepping through the door and closing it behind him. He marched across the empty room to a particular bank of switches. He flipped them on in sequence and a door beside the machines clicked open. The man slid through to a confined staircase, which he descended quickly to the bottom, some two stories below. At the bottom of the steps was another man in a suit.
This man was so nondescript as to be invisible, even when spoken to one on one. He had a plain face that could have blended in to any crowd in any city in America. His haircut a short back and sides, combed firmly over on the left, his suit grey, no waistcoat, with a grey tie and white shirt. He saluted as the black man came towards him.
"Major Fury."
Fury returned the salute. "How bad is it?"
"That's the problem, sir. We don't know."
The man in grey opened the door behind him and they came out into a wide open grey room, dozens of telephone banks along the walls with an army of operators. At plain oak desks men pored over decryption machines, or filed through pages of notes in a dozen languages. A harried looking man in a crumpled blue shirt was pacing between various desks, grabbing papers at random and looking even more concerned as he read the reports.
The man in grey nodded to him. "Dr. Selvig picked up a communication from Europe four hours ago."
"Any chance of narrowing that down?"
"Working on it. Drop's definitely going to happen here."
"How long to get non-essential personnel out?"
A woman dressed in a plain skirt and white shirt came to join them. "Campus should be clear in the next half hour," she reported.
"Do better."
She nodded, but stayed with the men. "Sir, evacuation may be futile. We don't know what's about to be dropped."
Fury ignored the point. "I need you to make sure that Phase 2 is secured."
The man in grey frowned. "Sir, is that really a priority right now?"
Fury turned to him with a frown. "Until such time as the world ends, we will act as though it intends to spin on." He watched Selvig pace the room before turning back to the two. "Clear out the tech below. Every piece of Phase 2 on a truck and gone."
They both saluted and walked off to collect some of the unoccupied officers. Fury removed his hat and went to catch Selvig. "Talk to me, Doctor. Is there anything we know for certain?"
Selvig looked startled at the intrusion, but quickly regained his composure. "Director. Inbound aircraft from Europe, something is definitely heading out way."
Fury followed him to the back of the room where a global map had been set up, different coloured pieces arranged on different landmasses, representing factories, armies, anything they needed to monitor. "Any clues as to what's heading our way?"
Selvig shrugged helplessly. "All we know is some form of aircraft. It could be transporting goods or weapons or even coming to bomb us. Definitely advanced technology though, if it's able to cross the Atlantic."
"Get me more."
"Yes sir."
"Where's Agent Barton?"
Selvig rolled his eyes. "Up in his nest, as usual."
Fury looked above to where a man was sitting on a beam, a rifle across his knees as he scanned the room below. He waved to catch the man's attention, then gestured for him to come down. Barton nodded and grabbed hold of a rope he had tied next to himself, sliding down it to the floor, his heavy boots thudding as he landed. He was dressed in the dull khaki of a military uniform, and seemed out of place among the suits and shirts of the people around him.
As he drew closer Fury began to sign at him. I gave you this detail so you could keep a close eye on things.
Barton's face remained impassive as he returned the sign language. I can see better from a distance.
What have you seen?
Barton scanned the room before answering, even though Fury had made sure none of the other operatives could understand the language he used. No one come or gone. All clean.
Good. Fury turned back to Selvig. "Where exactly will the plane first make landfall?"
Selvig checked the paper in his hand. "On current trajectory… About a mile outside Rockport."
Fury nodded and signalled to Barton Get ten men. We need to get to Rockport.
/|\
The small convoy of jeeps rolled to the coordinates Selvig had pointed out. Fury was in the passenger seat of the first car as Barton drove. Three other men were with them in the car, dressed in military fatigues and armed with rifles and Thompson submachine guns. Fury still wore his suit, but he had a shotgun across his lap as well.
They came to a stop next to a field freshly ploughed and ready for seeding. The agents piled out, followed by Fury, Barton right at his side. They spread out across the field, guns at the ready as they assumed their positions. Barton took position alongside the jeeps, armed with his Springfield rifle. He was down on one knee, eye to the scope as he surveyed the field, his finger resting lightly on the stock.
Fury went right down the middle as the agents fanned out on either side of him. He alternated between checking the sky and his pocket watch as the time ticked closer and closer to Selvig's estimation of the arrival time. He came to a rest in the centre of the field, shotgun at the ready as he scanned the sky. For several long tense moments they all stood frozen, like toy soldiers frozen on a field.
The roar of an engine split the silence of the night, and out of the clouds a dark shape appeared, thick and heavy, a dark grey tube that was barely even a shadow against the darkness of the night sky. Every one of the agents looked to Fury for instruction but he simply stood there, implacable as an oak, and watched the plane approach closer overhead.
It passed right over them, but nothing happened. A moment later it circled in the sky and returned back the way it had come, disappearing back into the clouds as quickly as it had come. Once more the agents looked to their leader, but Fury was still watching the sky, and his patience was rewarded a moment later when a faint white smudge appeared, descending rapidly. It came right for them, the barest touch of wind pushing it closer to the field, a perfect target.
Finally Fury moved, looking behind to Barton and shaking his head once. The sniper nodded and shouldered his rifle, moving forwards quickly and drawing a pistol from his hip instead. The other men took the signal, standing as well and moving to cover the shape as it came close enough to reveal a human figure beneath the white circle of a parachute. It made no effort to change trajectory, almost seeming to aim for the circle of men that waited to greet it.
The instant the man's feet touched the ground the agents were on him, grabbing him and forcing him to the floor. One agent produced handcuffs and secured his arms as another placed a black bag over his head. In seconds he was fully restrained, but Fury still wasn't taking chances. He nodded to the men and they slammed the butts of their rifles into the man's back and chest until he collapsed to the floor. Gripping him under the shoulders they dragged the prone form to the jeep and bundled him into the back.
Barton looked to Fury before heading back and Fury signalled briefly. Stay alert.
/|\
With a nod from Fury Barton ripped the bag off the hostage's head.
The face that was revealed was pale and thin, with pronounced cheekbones and a narrow chin. The mouth was twisted into an open mouthed grin that was anything but good natured. His dark hair was ruffled by the bag and his jump and he wore dark grey military combat clothes. The moment the bag was taken away he scanned the room and finally settled on Fury, sitting across the desk from him.
"Ah." His face settled into a casual disdain and he relaxed into the chair, lounging despite the handcuffs binding him to it. "Die Amerikaner."
"You wanna run that by me again?"
"That's what they call you." His accent was cultured. Possibly British, but with a hint of something foreign. Fury could identify nearly any accent on the planet within a few words, but he had trouble with this one. The man was impossible to place, no features to suggest a country of origin, no uniform, and now no voice.
"Who calls me that?"
"The men who employ me."
"And who might they be."
"Oh you'll meet them soon enough. I wouldn't worry about them now."
"And who should I be worrying about?"
The dark haired man smirked and dropped his head down, shaking it a little before looking back up. "Me."
"And just who might you be?"
The man pressed his tongue into the inside of his lower lip, exploring the cut he had received from an agent's ring. "I am Loki. And I am burdened with glorious purpose."
"Loki?" Selvig was stood behind him, but now moved forwards into the light. "Brother of Thor."
For the first time Loki displayed an emotion besides arrogance, his lips twisting into a snarl as he turned back to see the doctor.
"You've already caused us a lot of grief." Fury said, leaning back in his chair and examining the prisoner. "Breaking into American airspace, an illegal drop onto our territory. Your clothes suggest some sort of military involvement." He leaned forwards again and fixed Loki with a hard glare. "This doesn't have to get any worse though.
"Of course it does. I've come too far for anything else."
"To my knowledge the government of the United States of America has no quarrel with the people of Europe."
Loki had recovered his good humour as he turned back to meet Fury's gaze. "An ant has no quarrel with a boot."
"You planning to step on us?"
Loki chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "You misunderstand Major. I come with glad tidings." The smile disappeared. "Of a world made free."
"Free from what?"
"Freedom. Freedom is life's great lie." He looked back again to where Selvig and Barton were standing. "Once you accept that in your heart you will know peace."
Fury stood and walked round the table. "You say peace, I kind of think you mean the other thing."
Loki only grinned and shook his head. "What time is it Major?"
"Why does it matter?" Fury sat down on the edge of the desk and leaned in close. "It's not like you'll be seeing daylight for a long time."
"It matters because soon enough the possessions your agents took from me are going to cause you quite a lot of problems."
Barton was already heading for the door when an explosion rippled through the building, strong enough to knock all of them to the floor. As Fury struggled to his feet he saw Loki rolling out of the shattered chair, the handcuffs already off his wrists as well. Before anyone else could move he had ripped off his belt and rolled over to straddle Barton, opening the buckle to reveal a miniature needle which he jammed into Barton's chest.
"What-"
"Sodium thiopental." Loki looked up with his insane grin back in place.
Fury got a hand to the desk and forced himself up, staggering back against the wall. "That's not possible."
"Why Major Fury." Loki stood and walked over to where Selvig was trying to stagger back to his feet. "Your own scientists have been working on it, though I understand less successfully." He knelt and jammed the needle into Selvig's chest as well. "It is amazing what you can do with the proper motivation."
"So what do you plan to do now? Destroy one SHIELD Installation?"
"SHIELD?" Loki smiled. "Oh I like that. Very clever."
"We have an army of operatives who will stop whatever you're planning."
"I doubt that."
Barton was on his feet now, speaking in a flat tone. "Sir, Director Fury is stalling. This place is about to blow. He means to bury us."
"Like The Pharaohs of old." Fury moved his hand away from the wall and the emergency switch he had activated.
"It's a two minute time," Selvig said as he got to his feet.
Loki grimaced, his chin jutting forwards. "Drop him. Then take me to Phase 2."
Barton snapped his sidearm up and put a bullet into Fury, dropping him to the floor. The three men exited, Barton in the lead, Selvig trailing behind, paying no notice to the motionless body on the floor.
Outside agents were rushing past, including the man in the grey suit. They were heading in the direction of the vehicle pool, where a dozen jeeps were being loaded with heavy wooden boxes. Baron gestured to one of them, alerting the agent in charge of loading it. Need these vehicles.
As they were climbing in the woman Fury had spoken with earlier stepped up, frowning as she saw Loki climbing into the covered trailer. She tapped Barton on the shoulder and signalled. Who's that?
He didn't tell me.
She stepped back to let Selvig get in, but at that second a radio nearby buzzed, Fury's voice, pained.
"Hill, do you copy? Barton has turned."
Before the message was even finished Barton snapped up his pistol and fired two shots, but Hill was no longer there. Despite the dress and the heels she had been wearing she had dived for cover behind another packing crate. She reached beneath her skirt and drew a snub nose revolver, quickly leaning out and firing two shots which punched holes through the canvas covering the truck bed. Loki ducked but Barton was already in the driver's seat and tearing away out of the garage.
A warning alarm began to sound through the base and the agents began to flee. The rest of the jeeps pulled out with as many men and boxes crammed onto them as they could manage. As they drove out Hill pulled a pocket knife and slit the side of her dress to the hip before finding a motorcycle and kick-starting it. She peeled out of the garage and followed the truck Barton had taken, gunning the engine hard.
She had barely made it twenty feet when a massive explosion ripped the building apart behind her. The bike swerved wildly and she was thrown clear into a patch of long grass beside the road, rolling several times before she came to a stop. Debris rained down around her and she covered her head with her arms as it set the grass ablaze.
Several long moments passed before she felt safe to raise her head, Several jeeps were disappearing into the darkness ahead of her while behind the space where the building had been was now a smouldering crater. She stood and marched quickly back to find a small group of men standing by the debris. One was the man in the grey suit, now stained with soot. As he nodded to Hill another man joined them. Fury's suit was missing an arm and he had a deep cut on his head, but his face showed only determination.
"Report."
"A lot of men still under," the man in the suit said. "Don't know how many survivors."
Fury nodded, turning to the rubble that had once been a base. "Hill, sound the general call, I want every living soul not working rescue looking for that briefcase."
She saluted. "Roger that." As she turned to leave she overheard the brief exchange between Fury and the man in the grey suit.
"Coulson, get back to base. This is a Level Seven. As of right now, we are at war."
"What do we do sir?"
"Get me the dossiers. We have some calls to make."
AN:- I did a lot of work trying to make things authentic to the period. There will be no supernatural or science fiction elements. However there will still by necessity be certain technologies not available in 1920 (or even not available now) although in most cases it will period authentic technology that is just more powerful or more refined than how it actually would have been.
Prime examples: The plane which can apparently manage transatlantic flight. Sodium thiopental (sodium pentathol) being capable of mind control. Needed to be done obviously so I could have the European Loki arrive unexpectedly on American shores, and so he could brainwash Clint.
Mostly the plot and much of the dialogue is lifted from the Avengers movie. I have made some additions to make it better fit the time period or to account for slight changes I have made to the exact flow of the narrative.
I hope you enjoy this. I love fiction from this period and I love the Avengers, so I hope I can do this story justice.