Chapter One: Rebecca Callahan, PI

Fourteen Years Later…

"So?" Rebecca Callahan gestured around the cramped space with pride. "What do you think? And before you say anything, yes I know it's the size of a walk-in closet but it's all I can afford right now."

The dubious snort that came from the man at her side made her frown. In the two months following the downfall of Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division, Sam Wilson had become her closest friend. Rebecca had been an Agent for S.H.I.E.L.D. for almost a decade, having gone to their Academy for training after her father's arrest. She'd proved to be an excellent spy and tracked S.H.I.E.L.D. targets and threats all over the world. Her father had been a terrorist and Rebecca had made it her life's mission to fight terrorism under the guise of S.H.I.E.L.D. not knowing that the greatest terrorist regime in the world had been growing like a parasite inside the World's Largest Counter-Terrorism Agency.

When S.H.I.E.L.D. had gone down with HYDRA two months ago, Rebecca had lost everything; her career, her income, her friends, David had been turned to become part of HYDRA and now rotted in prison and Nora, distraught over what happened, moved out to the West Coast to be with her family. Rebecca had been left standing in the ashes of her life that had burned to the ground.

She hadn't regretted the decision to help take S.H.I.E.L.D. down though. HYDRA had been planning a mass genocide of anyone who would oppose them, using the helicarriers S.H.I.E.L.D. thought they had been creating for global security. Rebecca had joined forces with Captain America and the Black Widow, also former Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., to stop them and they'd recruited Sam, a former pararescue soldier. They'd taken down the helicarriers, sent the HYDRA rats that hadn't gone down with their ship, fleeing and essentially saved the world from global domination.

But in the aftermath, Rebecca had been left unemployed, with not a lot of options open in other government agencies. Her savings weren't going to cover her rent forever, so she'd taken the advice of an old S.H.I.E.L.D. acquaintance, took out a private investigator's license and had just opened the doors to her office, tiny as it was, for business. Rebecca Callahan. P.I.

"Beck," Sam shook his head in disbelief. "You can't even move around in here." He looked unconvinced of her base of operations.

"Sure I can!" Rebecca slapped her palm against the double pedestal steel desk she'd bought at a flea market and managed to wrangle inside. "It even fits a desk."

Sam gave her a look that clearly translated that he thought she was crazy. "That's about all it fits."

"Not true, it also fits a couple of chairs and filing cabinet." She pointed out the objects she spoke of. "Besides, it's not as if I'm going to be spending a lot of time in the office anyway. Part of being a P.I. is doing actual legwork."

"Well hey, it's your office." Sam held up his hands in defeat. "If you're happy with it, then congratulations."

"Thank you." Rebecca gave a little bow. "Now I just need to get some actual clients and cases to work on."

"Technically-" Sam started but Rebecca cut him off with a shake of her head.

"I know, I know, I'm still working on that case," She assured him. "But my last lead went cold. And it's not going to pay my rent."

"My leads went cold too." Sam reached over and squeezed her shoulder. "It's like the toughest game of Where's Waldo I ever played."

"Except we're really playing Where's the Most Lethal Assassin in the World whom I didn't believe existed until very recently." Rebecca sighed. "Then again, no one said working for Captain America would be easy."

"Plus, he's in New York almost as much as he's here with Avenger's duties." Sam frowned, trying to remember what had Steve Rogers out of town these days.

"Duty calls when you're a Superhero, not a lot of downtime." Rebecca shrugged. "And hey, when the God of Thunder makes contact because something's brewing, what's Steve supposed to do, say no?"

"Hey," Sam chuckled. "I'm more than happy to leave the Avenging to Steve. Like you said, between our missing person's case and my work at the V.A. I've got enough on my plate."

"Speaking of plates," Rebecca grinned at him. "I'm starving. Since you're technically on your lunch break, let's go eat."

"Girl," Sam's expression mirrored hers. "You read my mind."


Later that night, Rebecca had a manilla folder open on her countertop, its contents spread out for her to study while she sipped on a mug of hot tea and listened with half an ear as Nora Matheson, her old friend and co-worker from S.H.I.E.L.D. filled her in on her new life working in IT out in San Francisco.

Nora sounded lighter, happier than she had when she left. Rebecca knew she'd been in love with their other friend David for years and his betrayal had hit her especially hard. Rebecca missed her but didn't begrudge her friend for leaving and starting over. Besides, finding the Winter Soldier kept her plenty busy and she had Sam's friendship to keep from feeling lonely. She almost hated to admit that she'd felt closer to Sam in recent months than she had in the years she'd been friends with Nora. Plus, they were both working on finding Bucky for Steve.

All the information in front of her had come from Natasha Romanoff's connections in Kiev. Somehow, the how wasn't exactly clear, James Buchanan Barnes, one of the Howling Commandos and Steve's oldest friend had survived his fall from a HYDRA train, losing his left arm in the process. He was captured by HYDRA, who gave him a cybernetic limb and brainwashed him into becoming the Winter Soldier. He would become a renowned assassin over the next several decades, many believing him to be a ghost story because he'd been put into cryogenic stasis to preserve his longevity between missions.

They had him so gone he hadn't even recognized Steve, his childhood best friend or the sound of his own name. Now Steve was bound and determined to save him and Rebecca and Sam had agreed to help him.

"So enough about me," Nora's cheerful voice sounded from the speakerphone on Rebecca's cell. "What's new in your world?"

"Opened my P.I. office today. It's basically a glorified closet, Sam hates it, but the doors are open for business." Rebecca told her, still pouring over the same information she'd gone over hundreds of times, hoping to find something she'd missed.

"That's great! You'll be pulling in clients before you know it!" Nora exclaimed. "And speaking of Sam, are you two dating yet or what?"

"What?" Thoroughly startled by her friend's question, Rebecca tore her eyes away from Bucky's military headshot from the 40s. "Me and Sam?" She laughed incredulously. "It's not like that!"

"Why not? You spend time almost all your time with him these days and he seems to make you happy," Nora pointed out. "And I saw him before I left. He sure is a whole lot of tall, dark and handsome."

"He's my friend. Hell, he feels like my partner after everything went down at the Triskelion." Rebecca informed her. "It's not like that. He's also got a huge crush on the girl who works the front desk at the V.A. with him."

"Rebecca," Nora sighed on the other end of the line. "I worry about you sometimes. Do you ever feel anything for anyone? You don't date. You don't even fool around between missions. Every guy you come across is either co-worker or friend. Are you a lesbian? Because you can tell me, it doesn't change anything for me."

"I'm not gay, Nora," Rebecca told her dryly, rolling her eyes even though she knew her friend could not see her.

"Well, I had to ask like I said you don't date." Nora pointed out. "Are you asexual? Because that's okay too. I'm just wondering if you ever feel weak-kneed attraction for well, anyone."

A brief unbidden image of her looking back at Steve Rogers from over her shoulder in front of the Triskelion, him telling her he believed in her too, flashed through her mind. She shook the thought away almost as quickly as it had come.

"I was always too busy to date. Too many missions to stick around long enough to make one work and then it was trying to find a new career." Rebecca told her. "I haven't had the time."

"Well, you should make the time, Rebecca," Nora told her quietly, her voice serious. "You deserve to take some time for yourself, be happy, not focus on saving the world every single second. It's not like you joined the Avengers. You're not Natasha Romanoff, you're Rebecca Callahan, P.I. with a semi-normal job."

"Well tell you what," Rebecca knew Nora meant well, but the last thing she needed was to think about her love life or lack of one. "As soon as I meet someone, you'll be the first to know."


It had been fourteen long years since Declan O'Riley had set foot in his homeland. Fourteen years since he'd smelled the grass and clover felt the misty breeze on his face and heard the faerie song on the wind. He hadn't a pint of Guinness or a crumb of soda bread, just the blandest, most basic of foods as he rotted in a small square whitewashed cell in Bright Light, the CIA's High Detainee Prison in Bucharest, Romania.

He'd only seen the outside of those walls when Agent Everett Ross came in to interrogate him before he was sent back to that cell with only his thoughts for company. Most of his Lieutenants letters were confiscated, they'd had to be creative in their correspondence and he'd been aggrieved to learn the Real IRA was floundering in his absence, Alan Ryan and Peter Butterly dead. Shot down like dogs, the waste of resources and leadership, and all he could think was that if his ungrateful, blood traitor daughter had not-

It was no use to think such thoughts. He was home now. Seamus Gallagher and Fergal Dungan had seized his prison transport, killing the guards escorting him to a high-security prison now that the CIA had no use for him. He was free again and could get the Real IRA back on its feet.

"Sir?" Seamus knocked on the door to the office they'd set up for him. His men had procured a Safe House just outside Belfast. They'd had a meal fit for a king waiting for him and he'd been able to don real clothing, trousers, and a knit sweater, instead of the shapeless drab he'd been forced to wear day after day.

Declan turned away from the window, where he'd been looking out at the green of Ireland, enjoying a view so long denied to him. "Did you find her?"

"Not yet, Sir. But we'll keep looking." Seamus nodded. "About Rebecca-"

"Rebecca will be seen to. Blood calls to blood after all." Declan interrupted him. "In fact, why don't you reach out to Michelle Scicluna at the Black Air. I believe she still owes me a favor, or two."

"Yes, Sir."