The city was cold, the wind was biting, the fire escape unnecessary, and Steve Rogers wished he was practically anywhere else.
As if somehow sensing his thoughts Loki raised an eyebrow at him. "Try Jotenheilm. This actually feels like a reasonable temperature." He whispered.
Nevertheless the fire escape was not a pleasant place to be for either of them.
"It's alright for some," Steve muttered, wishing that he could have brought his coat. "You're already blue."
"Shush," Loki pointed towards the edge of the street below.
He was right of course, there was a slow rumbling convey of trucks approaching. Loki pressed his hands to the railings.
Steve held up his hand. One, two.
The trucks rolled ever nearer.
Three, four,
He swung onto the ladder.
Five, Six,
Steve took one last look at Loki, glanced at the sky, then said: "Seven"
Loki pushed himself off from the banisters summersaulting over the rail and tumbling onto the truck below. The moment he landed with an almighty clang he rolled, pulling the knives out of his boots.
He paused.
Only the sound of the engine remained as he crouched, trying to see if he'd been noticed. Or if Steve had made it down. The engine died.
Shit.
The door at the end of the truck opened. Slowly, as if he was expecting it to get bitten off, a man poked his head out. He yelled a couple of expletives then swung around to climb onto the top of the van, leaving the door swinging. "Ruddy aircon units. Always falling off. I've told people a million times, don't buy the duds, save up and get a good set fitted, but no, they just think I'm trying to sell them protection. People can't listen to save their lives."
Loki waited until the thug was completely on top of the van before throwing the knife at him. He dodged.
Clearly the man had more training than your average useless bit, but that didn't matter. Loki had, after all, brought quite a few more knives, and some extra 'accessories' just in case. Steve and the so called Daredevil might have rules, but he, well… Loki was far from the mood for a screaming match. He slipped the garrotte out of his sleeve.
The thug dove at him blindly, the lack of streetlights clearly an impediment. It was no problem for Loki who instead tumbled over him turning as he did. He slipped the garrotte around his throat.
Come on, come on.
He struggled for far longer than Loki would have liked, but eventually, oh so eventually he want down. Loki laid his body down on top of the truck, then glanced down.
The door was still open.
There was a loud thump from inside.
And there was the plan, actually working for once.
Now Loki had to do his bit.
Staying close to the roof Loki crept forwards until he was practically level with the windshield. The truck turned, leaving even the edges of the big city behind, and went out onto the road they wanted. It was such a shame that trucks were so unreliable on twisty roads wasn't it. At least they were when they were surprised. Carefully which way it was pointed Loki activated his torch, and attached it to his collar.
He shot forward, and hung down over the windshield, waving his knife at the people inside grinning.
The carefully trained, highly trusted agent screamed, letting go of the wheel and floundering desperately.
Then Steve stepped out of the shadows and leant through the open door, knocking the agent's head towards the steering wheel, and the thug out cold. Loki pulled himself back onto the top of the vehicle, then jumped off the top in time to see Steve put the roll of tape back in his pocket, turn the key, and jump off just as the truck started to accelerate, rolling into the mud.
Eugh: dirt.
Loki stood upright and brushed the much off his clothes. Steve scrambled up after him, a backpack in his arms, filled to the brim.
"Just an accident, nothing to see here Officer," Steve said with a grin.
"They aren't going to know what hit them." Loki agreed.
And so the plot began. They weren't trying to infiltrate the mob itself of course. While possibly technically easier in theory it was firmly not an option for Loki. While Steve possibly could have blended in and worked his way up, he had neither the temperament nor the time to do so.
Instead the aim was to simply infiltrate the building, and find the evidencewithin, part of the reason they'd had to raid such a high grade tech store. While the men Hammer had been dealing with, the remains of the Irish mob, were neither the best equipped nor the most intelligent, it was beyond either Steve or Loki's familiarity with computers to hack in on their own skill. But letting the software do it for them? That they could do. That, even they, could do.
It was with an oddly heavy heart that Steve set off towards the pub that the Irish were using as their main front. New York had changed a lot since he was young, but the maggia? Only so far as to modernise in weapons and crime. Needless to say, he didn't have the best memories of them.
But at least there was no way he'd be recognised by the casual observer. And even if he was, it was hardly like he was doing anything wrong, this time.
All Steve needed was to scope out the basic security features, until they could come back later, with Daredevil. In theory that should be easy enough, in practice- Well, Steve had a feeling that Loki might have done a better job, blue skin or not.
"Hello," He said quietly, then cleared his throat. "Oi Matey!" He let his original, and usually forgotten, Brooklynn and Irish mixed accent come out.
"Oi Matey yourself," The guard on duty yelled back in a much thicker Irish broad. He turned towards Steve, showing the large gouge down the side of his face. "You got something for the Boss?"
"Pft, what else?" Steve crossed the road, just dodging a car. Easy enough so far, now he had to hope that the passcodes Daredevil had gotten were correct. Hopefully. "Not sure why though,"
"Hah," The guard said, flicking something around in his pocket. Steve really, really hoped it was his keys.
"Yeah, I mean here's me, sent with the finest fake Florentine leather." Steve shrugged, hoping the backpack he had slung over his shoulder was good enough bait. After all, it was the right backpack.
The guard gave a satisfied grunt. "Good to know you lot still got the goods, we heard about the truck."
Steve shrugged, hoping to covey the right amount of 'yeah it happens' and 'no problem'.
The man grunted, seemingly amused and nodded behind him. "Go on in then, they're expecting you."
"Cheers," Steve stepped past him, fighting the impulse to look back. He was on his own for this one. Loki was too distinctive. Daredevil didn't work during the day.
In and out, that's all he had to do, get in and get out. He was meant to be there, he had a delivery. He was meant to be here. Now only if he could convince everybody else, he'd be alright.
What were the chances of that?
Two streets away Loki was waiting with baited breath. It was alarming how much of their plan relied upon this one, very delicate, operation. If Steve couldn't get in, or if he was discovered, or even if what he got was too time sensitive. Loki really did not like having no back-up plan.
Well, not much of one anyway. The half formed thought in the back of his mind was barely worth counting. It was more than his- than Thor ever managed anyway.
Loki sighed, fighting the urge to pace. There was barely room on the small terrace he was watching from anyway, and he'd always hated the habit in others. One knife in his boot, one knife in his other boot. Two in each of his pockets, three strapped to his belt, and another one to his back, the sheaf carefully in place. He could cope. There were plans.
BOOOOM!
There was a huge echo followed by the sounds of shattered glass. Loki's head shot up and looked around instinctively before hauling himself onto the roof and sprinting over, jumping onto the next apartment block, scrambling around just in time to see a familiar figure dash away from the now destroyed mob headquarters.
Thank Chance. Or more likely, Loki considered, thank super serum.
He leapt downwards rolling next to the sprinting figure, and upright, joining him on the run. "So, did you actually get anything, or were you just meaninglessly destructive."
"I got stuff," Steve said, the remains of his shirt flapping off his back. "But I think they might have noticed me."
"You don't say." Loki said, rolling his eyes. Well, at least having half of the Irish Mob after them was more exciting than their day to day lives.
They turned the corner, pelting down another street, more residential this time, and slightly higher class, although not by a lot. A figure blocked their path. Tall, with her hair up in a high ponytail and two scars across her forehead in the shape of an X. She pointed a very large gun at them. It had a slight blue glow.
"Why don't you stop right there." She drawled in an Irish brogue so thick it took Loki a moment to understand here.
"Sorry, no." Loki flashed, throwing one of his knives squarely at her chest. She batted it aside.
"Aw, I was so hoping you'd come quietly." She hoisted the gun up to their eyelevel. "Any last words?"
Loki glanced at Steve, then the ground, then the air. Were he welcome in Asgard that would have been too good to resist. As it was…
Steve gave the tiniest nod.
Loki threw the other knife from his boot. It bounced off her forehead.
Well that was a problem.
And one he didn't have time to think about. Loki dived forward towards her, flipping one of the longer knives out as he did so. She had scars, she had some weaknesses. It was just a matter of finding them.
As if stuck with the same thought Steve rushed forward staying low of a pulse of blue energy that the gun let off as he rushed at their attacker and kneed straight down below her stomach.
She let off a yell of pain.
Some progress at least.
As Steve punched repeatedly at her, trying to make any lasting impact, Loki swung behind her, spotting a small octopus on her left shoulder. Well, the emblem of one anyway. It made for as good a target as anything as Loki flipped out his longest dagger and plunged it deep into her shoulder, twisting it a little.
The enforcer crumpled, falling to her knees as it was matched almost perfectly by a sharp jab just below the ribs. She let out another yell. Only the second sound she'd made since the fight began.
"Come on," Loki yelled, sprinting down the road and past the enforcer. They had to get up onto the roofs, maybe then they'd get away.
A moment later Steve joined him, hauling himself up the nearest fire escape and onto the low lying roof of the nearest apartment building.
"Come out," A voice sounded from close behind him. Loki jumped, just about catching the second floor balcony. He crept backwards, hoping, just hoping that the shadow would conceal him.
The scarred enforcer rounded the corner, the knife still embedded in her shoulder.
One pace, two paces. All Loki had to do was not be seen. And to make sure Steve wasn't seen. He missed his magic. The enforcer walked forward more, swinging the blue gun, left and right, pointing it randomly into the shadows.
Three paces, four paces, five paces. Loki crouched down and pulled as much of his coat around him as he could. It had to be less distinctive.
Six paces, Seven, Eight, Nine. The she pointed the gun above Loki's head.
He held his breath.
.
Come on.
.
.
.
The enforcer swung the gun in the opposite direction and took another step forward, then another continuing to swing the gun as she walked down the rest of the street. He let out a sigh of relief.
Steve dropped down onto the balcony. "Close one."
Loki nodded, for once in no mood to banter. He knew neither of them were in as good shape as they had been at their peak, but the enforcer should have stayed down. They'd hit her hard enough.
"Was it worth it?" He asked instead.
Steve pulled three things out of his pockets. A small rectangular computer chip, a small gold clover, and a small model of the same octopus that had been on the enforcer's shoulder. "You tell me."
Part 1 of 2 of the update
