"JARVIS, bring up that information again."
"Right away, sir."
Tony reached his right hand over to a small bowl sitting on his work desk, grabbed one of the plump round blueberries, and popped it in his mouth. While he savored the sweet morsel, he leaned back and let his eyes roam over the information JARVIS had brought up on the screens. Skimming the typed documents, he pushed them aside, bringing the blurry image front and center.
"Run facial recognition. See if we can get a match."
"Running facial recognition now sir."
Tony snagged another blueberry, pulling up some other records while JARVIS did his thing. Police reports, Facebook comments, anything he could find regarding the kid that the team had pulled out of the Hydra base.
"Sir, I found a couple of images-"
"Then bring them up. Really, I shouldn't have to tell you to do that."
A handful of pictures popped up, mostly blurry and taken from a phone. It seemed the kid was good at avoiding cameras.
"JARVIS, these are just more blurry pictures of her. I want to find out who she is. I need some ID."
"As I was trying to say sir, I couldn't find above a thirty seven percent match for any known living person."
"She can't have just appeared out of nowhere," Tony comment, eating another blueberry. "When did she first show up? Two years ago?"
"Records indicate three years sir, but SHIELD did not take notice until two years ago."
"Start looking around five years ago to now. Factor age into your calculations and look for a match. Start with anyone who disappeared or was reported dead in the past five years."
"Running analysis now sir."
Tony watched as hundreds of images raced past the screen faster than a person could process them. He reached for another berry, only to find the dish empty. Scowling at it, he pushed the dish aside and pulled forward the bowl of black raspberries.
"Sir, I found three possible matches within the requested timeframe."
Three pictures loomed on the screen. Three smiling girls, all with brown eyes, one with dyed blonde hair, one with shoulder-length light brown hair, and the other with slightly darker long brown hair.
"Talk to me."
"The first one is a sixty-one percent match, Anna Jay. Naturally, her hair color matches that of the subject. In this image, she is fifteen years old. Her parents divorced when she was twelve. She lived with her mother, but stayed with her father every other weekend. She had two younger sisters, ages thirteen, and ten. She attended high school at-"
"How did she die?"
"House fire, she and her youngest sister perished."
"Were the bodies recovered?"
"Yes sir."
"Then it's unlikely that this is our girl. Next."
The first image faded away, and the second was brought up front and center.
"A sixty-four percent match. Susan May, age sixteen in this picture. No siblings, resided with her mother and father. She disappeared four years ago, the body was not recovered. Speculation indicates she drowned while on holiday with her friends at a beach."
Tony studied the picture a moment longer. "Could be. The death could've been faked, especially if Hydra was involved."
"Shall I move on to the next, sir?"
"Go ahead."
"A sixty-five percent match. Skyler Sors, age twelve in this image. She-"
"Twelve?" Tony asked incredulously.
"Yes sir."
"Awfully young to be a Hydra agent."
"Shall I proceed sir?"
Tony squinted at the image, before nodding. "Yeah. We have to check every lead."
"As I was saying, she resided with her aunt and uncle, along with her older cousin-"
"What about parents?"
"Died in an automobile accident when she was two years old."
"Keep going."
"She and her family were killed while out of the country four years ago. Reports stated that they stumbled upon a small rebel group while journeying through the desert and were subsequently killed. The bodies of the aunt, uncle, and cousin were later recovered."
"But not the girl."
"No sir."
"Unclear circumstances surrounding death, no body recovered, no close family. Perfect recipe for a faked death." Tony reached forward, pulling the image of the prisoner to the center and positioning one of the two older pictures on either side of it. Then, he leaned back, chewing a raspberry, flicking his gaze back and forth between the three images. "I'd say they each have equal probability of being our kid. The Susan kid has an unimpressive story, and matches up with our kid's estimated age. Skyler has a more interesting story, but is awfully young. The images are pretty close, so no deciding factor there."
"Sir, if you could give me a better image or perhaps some more information-"
"That's why I built you. That's your job. So quit slacking," Tony stated, "and while you're at it, get me some more blueberries."
"I shall inform Miss Potts that we are out."
"Good. I'm going to see if I can corner Katniss and Widow and find out about the interrogation," Tony stated, standing up and bringing the bowl of raspberries with him.
"I don't think that is a wise idea. Based on past encounters-"
"JARVIS, just tell me when they get here."
"Miss Romanoff and Mister Barton are in the lift now."
"Why didn't you say something?"
"Well-"
"That was rhetorical. Don't answer. Keep digging for information about this mystery kid."
"Of course, sir."
Tony strolled out of his lab, popping raspberries into his mouth as he walked. He took the stairs down to the main living area, planning on cutting off the two spies when they exited the lift. Realizing that the lift was much faster than the stairs, Tony descended them two at a time, not caring that he spilt a raspberry or two during the quick descent.
Sure enough, the elevator dinged just as Tony reached the foot of the stairs. The lift doors slid open, revealing Natasha and Clint, who were engaged in conversation. At least, they were until they spotted the billionaire standing in front of the elevator, waiting for them. Clint groaned, wondering if he really needed a cup of coffee, while Natasha strode briskly past the man, and into the kitchen, projecting an 'I don't want to talk to you' vibe.
Tony, being Tony, pushed the matter anyway.
"So, what's the deal with the kid?" Tony asked.
Clint made his way to the kitchen as well, grabbing a mug from the cupboard and pouring coffee into it, before plopping down on a stool.
"You know, we aren't supposed to discuss interrogations with people not involved in the case," Natasha stated, calmly pouring her own cup.
"Another rule that I have chosen to ignore. Really, when is Fury going to learn that I don't follow pointless rules?"
Natasha put the coffee pot back in its place, then moved around the counter to take a seat beside Clint. The pair of agents sipped their coffee in tandem, a sight that some might find slightly unsettling.
"Besides, I was there when Capsicle pulled her out of that lab. That makes me qualified to know what her deal is," Tony pressed.
Natasha put her mug down, focusing her gaze on Tony. "We don't know what her deal is. She wouldn't give us anything more than an alias."
"You, the incredible Black Widow, master interrogator, couldn't get information out of some kid no more than nineteen years old?" Tony asked, feigning (not really) shock.
"She was too concerned with the monitors in the room to focus on the interrogation," Clint muttered, while Natasha took another sip of coffee.
"Why was she worried about the cameras and audio recording?"
"If we knew, do you think we would be talking to you right now?" Clint challenged. "Or would we have already dealt with the problem?"
Tony shrugged. "I never know with you."
Clint glared at the billionaire, muttering something into his mug.
"We're going to try again tomorrow, in a different environment," Natasha said.
"I wanna come."
Clint did a spit-take, spewing coffee all over the counter and choking simultaneously. "You what? No. Not happening. You cannot interrogate a prisoner."
"Why not? I'm charming, handsome, famous, all of the above. I'm the perfect candidate." By this time, Tony had a glass of wine in his hand, opting for that over coffee. He took a sip, as if that would emphasize his points and strengthen his argument.
Clint hadn't even mopped up his mess yet, choosing instead to stare at Tony as if the man had three heads. "You are the least qualified person I know to run an interrogation."
"I have an awesome suit. I'm a celebrity. I freaking saved New York from aliens. I think I'm qualified."
Clint opened his mouth to continue arguing, when Natasha shoved a roll of paper towels in front of him. "As much as I hate to admit it, Stark might be useful."
Clint was torn between looking wounded and looking insanely irritated. The compromise was slightly disturbing. "Really, Nat? You're siding with him?"
"I'm not siding with anybody," the redhead stated, her expression free from emotion. "But if this kid is used to working with intimidating people, it might be best to send in somebody who isn't intimidating."
Tony's triumphant look turned to one of offense. "I resent that."
Clint smirked, tearing a paper towel from the roll and wiping off the counter.
Natasha rolled her eyes at the childish antics of the two 'men', draining the last of her coffee and putting the mug in the dishwasher. "If you need me, too bad," she called over her shoulder as she exited the room.
And chapter four is up! I decided to split it into two segments, so chapter five will be up shortly. Enjoy!
As always, please review! I can't get paid in cash for my writing, but reviews are nice too.
Coming up next: Interrogation...