The Empire Strikes Back
PenPatronus
Chapter 3
Three Strikes
"An empire attacked from outside enemies will rise again, but if it crumbles from within, it will die."
-Zemo
Wanda put her hand on top of Clint's. He flipped his around, palm up, braided their fingers, and squeezed. "We will save him, together," she vowed.
Sam nodded. "Stark's a son of a bitch, but nobody deserves this."
Steve's jaw was firm—all business. "Intel, Romanoff. What happened?"
Natasha pressed her finger against the phone and scrolled to the next video. Mute newscasters reported in front of images of General Ross and Tony Stark arguing on the sidewalk in front of the Strategic Operations Command Center. "Strike one for Ross was when Tony failed to bring you and Bucky in. Strike two was when Tony lied about knowing that you were in Siberia. Strike three was when he ignored the prison breach. After that, Ross convinced half of the intelligence community that Stark was on your side the whole time, that he signed the Accords just so that he could be your spy on the inside. The UN put out a warrant for Stark's arrest."
"They came for him, and Stark surrendered. On its way to Ross, the convoy Tony was in was attacked," Nat continued. The hologram changed to a satellite image that showed half a dozen cars and trucks upended and on fire. "Four choppers and six armored vehicles ambushed it about a mile from the Compound. Rhodey saw the smoke but by the time Vision got there, every man was dead, and Stark was gone."
Steve frowned. "Does Ross have any leads?"
Natasha stuck her chin out. Her bottom lip swelled with anger. "He's dragging his feet. Everyone is. Even S.H.I.E.L.D. until Maria Hill received the video file. The rest of it shows Stark drugged, tortured…it's brutal. Finally, the leader steps in front of the camera and delivers an ultimatum. S.H.I.E.L.D. has 72 hours to meet their demands, or Stark's dead. That was 24 hours ago."
"What do they want?" Clint asked.
"Their biggest demand? Steve," Natasha said. "Dead or alive. Preferably, dead."
"So this all might be a trap for him," Sam cautioned.
"That doesn't matter," said Steve. "We have to go."
"We have to hurry," Natasha said.
Clint snorted through a running nose. "Of course we do."
"No, I mean, I think we need to really, REALLY hurry. I don't think Tony's…healthy."
Steve heard another shoe dropping. "What do you mean?"
"Way back when," Natasha said, "when we were all at the Compound, talking about the Accords, Tony said—in that damn passive way of his—that he had a headache, remember? He said he was nursing an electromagnetic headache? Later, in the conference room, after Ross ordered us to bring Steve and Bucky in, Stark said—just, again, in passing—he said that his left arm was numb. I could tell that he was in pain. He was touching his chest…His heart. I asked him if he was ok but…"
Steve stared at her. "You're holding something back. Spit it out, Romanoff."
She gave him the type of smile a proud teacher offers a pupil. "Around the time that Tony was kidnapped, there was a break-in at a Stark Industries facility outside of Boston. Only one piece of tech was stolen. It's a prototype that Stark introduced at MIT just a couple weeks before all of this went down. He described it as a therapeutic experiment. It taps into his mind and projects an interactive image of a memory. He can see the memory, relate to it, reshape it—ultimately, change it—even for just a moment. The tech he wears to access the memories utilize electromagnets. So, you have to figure that if Tony's been using that tech a lot lately, that's probably the cause of his headaches."
"What memory has he been interacting with?" Sam asked.
Nat met Steve's eyes, looked away, and then met them again. "A memory of his parents. Specifically, the last time he saw them alive."
Steve rubbed calloused hands down his cheeks. "He's only recently been processing the grief of his parents' death. No wonder I couldn't reach him in Siberia…"
"And the grief of losing Pepper at the same time. And Bruce is still missing. And then all of this," Nat pointed at the broken team, "and now, that," she pointed at the phone.
"Do we know who took the tech? Or at least what they'll use it for?" Clint wondered.
"No clue. But if they're using it on Tony, who knows what damage could be done?"
"Do we know who took him?" Clint asked.
"The drop site for Steve's dead body is the CIA, but the video originated from a former S.H.I.E.L.D. black site outside of Sydney, Australia. And, as for who has him, take a look." Nat brought up a screenshot of the camo-clad leader, zoomed in, adjusted colors, focused pixels, and then blew the image up even larger. "The ski mask covers his face, but we recognized the brand and the tattoos."
The tendons in Steve's neck rippled and he clenched his fists tight. "Klaue. That's Ulysses Klaue."
Clint stared at the picture. "The arms dealer Ultron stole the Vibranium from? He's the one who kidnapped Stark?"
"That is impossible," a new voice boomed. Everyone pivoted to the staircase where King T'Challa suddenly appeared. The Black Panther's eyes studied the image with skepticism. "Ulysses Klaue has resided in my dungeon for the past six months."
Steve stood up and offered the king a slight bow. "Your Highness."
"I suspect that you'll want to see him for yourself." Black Panther offered with a tired smile, "You may follow me to the prison, if you wish."
Nat pocketed the phone. "That's a good idea. If it's not Klaue, we need to confirm it. Let's go, Captain America."
"Don't call me that!" Everyone recoiled from Steve's tone. Rogers gave them each an apologetic look and took a deep breath. "I'm not Captain America anymore. I renounced my country's government, disobeyed the entire United Nations. I'm an expatriate. When I left the shield with Tony, I left Captain America behind. I'm just…" He shrugged with his entire body—shoulders, arms, knees, feet. "Now, I'm just Steve Rogers."
Natasha unzipped her coffee table-sized bag. "I stopped by the Compound on my way here. Stark was writing this when the police knocked on his door." She handed Steve a crumpled, coffee-stained, half-finished letter in Tony's handwriting. "And Rhodey said Tony would want you to have this."
Liquid that wasn't quite tears, but more than just the usual fluids filled Steve's eyes when Natasha placed the shield in his arms. The scrapes had been sanded down and the Vibranium smoothed. The red white and blue paint job was gone. In its place, a brilliant blue on top of the bright silver, was a circle surrounding the Avengers' "A."
"Captain…Avenger?" Nat tried the nickname on for size, but frowned at it. "Captain…Avenge? Avenger Captain…?"
Steve smiled. "Cap," he conceded. "Just Cap."
To Be Continued