Chapter 7

Natasha had Clint escorted to an interrogation room. Fury gathered Tony, Steve, Bryan and I to the conference table. Fury stood in front, as usual. I took a seat at the end closest to Fury. Bryan sat in between Steve and I. Tony sat across from the former.

Everyone looked like they were in pretty bad shape; Tony had his hands folded on the glass top, and was seriously spacing out. Steve wasn't much better. If anything, it was Bryan that got hurt the worst. His face was in his hands. His breathing was steadier than it was half an hour ago, though sobs shook his body every now and then.

Fury tossed a pile of cards—Captain America trading cards—in Steve's direction. They smeared the glass red.

"These were in Phil Coulson's jacket." He said. Bryan looked up and frowned. Steve picked one of the bloodiest cards and flipped it in his hand. "Guess he never did get you to sign them."

Bryan glared pointedly at Fury.

"We're dead air up here." He continued. "Our communications, location of the cube, Banner, Thor. I got nothing for you. Lost my one good eye. Maybe I had that coming." He paused. "Yes, we were going to build an arsenal with the Tesseract. I never put all my chips on that number, though, because I was playing something riskier. There was an idea—Stark and the kids know about this—called the Avengers Initiative.

"The idea was to bring together a group of remarkable people, see if they could become something more. See if they could work together to fight the battles we could never could. Phil Coulson died still believing in that idea. In heroes."

Stark got up and glanced at the rest of us. He turned to leave.

"Stark," Fury called. "I think you'd like to hear about Project Gemini."

"Why? It has nothing to do with me."

"It has everything to do with your father." Fury replied.

Stark sat back down." I'm listening."

I leaned forward. "So am I."

Fury produced a tablet—the same one I shoved into his gracious hands —from his trench coat and set it on the table.

"Fifty years ago, it was decided that America needed a new protector. Howard Stark tossed around a few ideas, and one of them seemed to be the most . . . plausible one. The idea was shot down several times, spanning thirty years. We decided to put it to action anyway. Six years w0rth of research and experimentation paid off. Out scientists created a . . . child. Retired agent Josh Roland was elected to care of her." He turned to me. "To teach you."

"Okay, first things first," I said, holding up a finger. "Am I programmed to fight or something?" Bryan flinched. "Because I'm sure Josh didn't teach me any of that."

"Yes," he replied. "You are."

"I have a question!" Tony raised his hand and, as expected, he didn't wait to be called on. "How she get created in the first place. You can't—" he looked at me and raised his hand, "no offense—make something out of nothing."

"None taken," I replied, returning my attention to Fury. "How did that happen anyway?"

"We had genetic material provided." Fury replied.

"From who?"

Fury hesitated, and I leaned back, waiting for his verdict.

I took the time to look around. Bryan was twiddling his fingers and stared at the table. Tony was leaning back and massaged his temple.

After a few moments of silence, it was Steve that broke it. "Who was it?"

Fury looked him in the eye. "You, Cap. It was you."

Even if Rogers didn't know much of today's techno-lingo, it dawned on him what that meant.

I had a lingering suspicion about this, and I still felt like I got shot. I mean, I shouldn't be surprised since its S.H.I.E.L.D., but still.

"I guess that explains the door." I muttered.

"What door?" Fury asked.

"I kind tore open an adamantium." I said coolly, pushing my chair back. "Now if you excuse me, I need a breather."

I stormed out of the conference room, my mind swirling in an angry haze.

"Hey Colby! Wait up!"

I froze mid-step. The voice belonged to Bryan. As soon as he caught up to me, he bent over, leaning on his knees.

"What?" I snapped.

"Uh . . . I just—I just want to see how you were holding up, I guess."

"Me? Oh, I'm just peachy."

"Well, you took it better than I thought you would. I mean, hilarious as it would be, you didn't punch out Fury's lights."

I shrugged. "Whatever."

"You sure? It isn't everyday someone finds out that they're the clone of a famed war hero."

I sighed and turned to face him. "Look, it is shocking. Acting aloof is how I keep my cool."

"Fair enough. At least let me walk you to your quarters."

"Um, thanks. I guess."

We passed by the interrogation rooms, only two turns away from our quarters. As we did, I peeked inside.

Clint was sitting next to Natasha, and when he looked up, he blinked in surprise.

"Natasha," I heard Clint ask. "Is that—"

"That's Colby Roland." Natasha confirmed.

Something in my mind told me that it was my cue to leave before things get awkward. Real awkward. I quickened my stride, as well as widened it. Unfortunately, it wasn't fast enough.

"Cole?" Clint asked.

I turned around. Clint was leaning on the doorway, blinking hard and looked quite discombobulated. I guess sustaining a blow to the head with a ten pound wrench does that you.

"Hello Clint," I said as breezily as I could muster.

"So," he winced. "How are you taking this?" He gestured around. "All of this?"

I slipped my hands in my pockets and nodded in Bryan's direction. "My friend over there says I took it rather well."

"Really?"

"Well, for one thing, I didn't knock Fury's lights out. That might change in the near future."

Clint chuckled. "He has that effect on people."

"I've noticed." I looked over his shoulder and caught Natasha's line of sight. Embarrassed, I looked back at Clint. "Is she your—"

"Partner." He interrupted. "Partner."

I put my hands on my hips and cocked an eyebrow.

"You should go." Clint said quickly.

I swear could hear Natasha smile.

When we made it to the quarters, Bryan put his hand on my shoulder before I could enter my own mini-fortress of solitude.

"Hey," he started. "I was kind of wondering . . . Clint called you 'Cole' back there. What's the story behind that?"

I faced him, a rare, genuine smile gracing my face. "Actually, it was a nickname. I gave it to myself, actually. When I was like, two-ish, I couldn't say my name, but I could say Cole. I haven't used it since."

"Would you uh—" he started twiddling his thumbs. "Would you mind if—if I started calling you that?"

"I wouldn't mind if you started now." I said, feeling incredibly . . .weird. Not sick really. I just felt . . . tingly. Then I realized what was happening to me.

God help me, I'm becoming one of my hormonal classmates!

A buzz of static in my right ear jolted me out of my romance panic. It was Fury.

"Loki's been sighted in New York. Time to suit up."

"But—but we don't—" I stuttered.

"They're in your rooms. The jet leaves in ten. Be there."

Bryan apparently got the memo, because as soon as we glanced at each other, we dashed inside our respective quarters, and the doors slid shut.

I found S.H.I.E.L.D.'s eagle insignia nearby the wall. Compelled, I pressed my palm into it. With a very faint hiss, it split into quadrants and slid into another layer of wall.

It revealed a custom uniform, tailored to my size. It had a dark gray Under Armor style shirt, and pants that had subtle lighter streaks on the sides. The black jacket was North Face styled and had the eagle insignia on both shoulders, but no tag. As I slipped it on, a Post-It fell out.

Cole—

I know you're going to flip when you get this note. Just please don't take it out on my face. Anyway, this jacket's sides are interchangeable. Just turn it inside out (or outside in. Whatever) and you can walk around in the civvie world without being ambushed by adoring S.H.I.E.L.D. fans. Oh, and its shock, fire, and bulletproof. Thought that might come in handy.

~Clint

I chuckled. "Way to go, big bro."

I slipped it on and met Bryan outside. He wore a black vest over a dark gray long-sleeved shirt. The shoulders had S.H.I.E.L.D.'s symbol. Hanging from his belt were two gun holsters. He wore fingerless gloves.

"I probably won't need the other one," Bryan muttered.

"What?"

"The other pistol."

"Whatever you say Chief."

"I know what I'm talking about."

As we ignored kindergarten's rules about "no running in the halls," we bumped into a more or less suited-up Tony Stark. My forehead bonked his shoulder plate with a dull clang.

"Oh hey!" He chirped. "Just the girl I was looking for."

He handed a gray cloth bracelet with a black clasp, kind of like one of a miniature shopping cart seatbelt.

"Uh, thanks?"

"It's a prototype energy shield," he explained. "My dad began working on it. I think it was for you."

"I put it on my left hand, and out of instinct pressed the flat back of the clasp. Silver stuff expended to the middle of my forearm. A circular indentation appeared on it

"And it can do basic stuff, like grow 'n' throw. It responds to your neural patterns—"

"What?"

"You can do that with your mind."

"Just a prototype, huh?" I tapped the metal. "What is this thing made of? I can't feel it at all."

"It's vibranium."

"Vibranium?" Bryan echoed. "I thought all of it was used on Caps shield."

"We found a lot vibranium in the span of seventy years." Tony replied.

With that, he strode farther down the hall. Bryan and I glanced at each other, shrugged, and continued our flagrant kindergarten rule breaking.

As it turns out, the others were just about ready to kick the S.H.I.E.L.D. pilot out of the Quinjet.

"You guys aren't authorized to be here!" He protested.

"Son . . ." Steve started. "Just don't."

He almost tripped as he ran down the boarding ramp. Clint and Natasha settle in the cockpit. Bryan and I sat across from Cap.

"What's that you got there?" He asked, gesturing to my arm brace.

"Oh, Tony gave this to me. I only had a gun, and he figured I should get a weapon of my own or whatever. It's a prototype energy shield that Tony's dad started working on after—" I tilted my head towards the cockpit. "You know. And so it might have your shield design on it. I wasn't sure whether Tony was joking or not."

Steve let out a small laugh. "I wouldn't be surprised."

"Stark," Natasha said into her headset. "We're heading northeast."

"What, did you stop for drive-thru?" He half-snapped, half-asked. "Swing by that park, I'm gonna lay 'em out for you."

Bryan and I were thrown into the back of our seats, and I was glad Steve was wearing a seat belt.

"Out! Everybody out!" Steve yelled.

We didn't need to be told twice.

We filed out of the Quinjet, jumping before it crashed to the ground. Looks like it took a hit from the left side.

I squinted up and saw a wormhole-thingy. Chitauri and giant mechanical worms (I dub thee Leviathan) swarmed out of it.

Looks like its game on or game over.


I AM SO SORRY. I totally missed last week's chapter. SORRY. As a side note, I'll be on vacation. I may or may not be able to upload. SORRY GUYS. However, about the sequel, there will be an interlude that takes place in between Project Gemini and the sequel.

The Mystic Force story will be shelved for now, until I get the Jungle Fury one completed. I also have an idea for a Lab Rats fanfic. Be on the look out!

Don't forget to review!

See you guys next time!