It was unlikely that anyone else on the base understood Grant Ward quite as well as Natasha Romanoff did. It was simply a matter of how fate had unravelled that saw them on opposite sides of metal bars, through which she was now passing him several fingers of scotch in a paper cup.
"Have you ever heard the story of Menestratus and Cleostratus?" she asked after he had taken a large belt. He shook his head as they both sat down, him on his bunk and her on a folding chair she had brought along with the drink.
Natasha sloshed more of the amber liquid into a second Dixie cup for herself. This had become a regular ritual for them, always immediately following his visits from Skye. Natasha had figured if there was ever a time for a drink, it was right after the pregnant love of your life whom you cruelly betrayed visited you in a military prison. It was a hunch, of course, but she went with it.
"Greek myth?" he inquired.
"Yeah," she replied as she stretched out her legs. "It's a tragic love story, with a Hunger Games sorta vibe. So the Ancient Greek city of Thespiae had a problem in the form of a bad-tempered dragon. Once a year, the citizens would draw lots to pick a sacrifice to be fed to the dragon, to appease it. One year, the lot fell to Cleostratus, who was by accounts the handsomest guy in town, adored by everyone but in particular by his childhood friend and lover, Menestratus. Against Cleo's pleas, he volunteered to go in his place, and the citzens agreed, given that Cleo was the darling of the town. But every night of the month leading up to the day of sacrifice, when Cleostratus would visit Menestratus, he'd bring a big bronze fishhook and hide it, point out, under the plates of Menestratus' armour."
"I think I see where this is going," Ward commented, finishing off his scotch.
Natasha leaned forward and refreshed his cup from the bottle. "Yeah. So when the fateful day arrived, Cleo helped his boyfriend into his armour, and Menestratus went out into the field alone to face his destiny. The dragon swooped in and gobbled him up… and as you've no doubt predicted, the fishhooks tore into the dragon's throat and belly, causing lethal injuries that saved the city of Thespiae from losing any more of its brave citizens."
"But Menestratus still dies, I assume," said Ward.
"I did say it was a tragic love story, yes. Cleostratus was distraught. He was from the wealthiest family in the city and he had a huge statue of his love built in the centre of the city, to commemorate Menestratus' sacrifice. The townsfolk venerated it, almost like a God. It was said to be one of the most beautiful statues in all of Greece."
Ward and Natasha both stared into their drinks for several moments. "What happened to Cleostratus?" Ward eventually asked.
She shrugged. "I don't know. I don't think the legend says. Maybe he found someone else. Maybe he got married and had kids and lived happily ever after, who knows."
"Maybe he died of a broken heart at the feet of his lover's statue once it was complete," Ward suggested. "Maybe he threw himself off a cliff or pined away by a river until Zeus turned him into a tree or a clump of bullrushes or a giant sea bass."
"It would be weird to be a clump of bullrushes, don't you think? Rather than just… like... one bullrush?"
"Was there a point to this charming romp through classical mythology, aside from the subtle suggestion that it's time for me to throw myself at the dragon of Thespiae? I hope you're planning to hand me some fishhooks."
"Just one," she said. She pulled the hard drive from the inside of her jacket and slid it through the bars towards him. He stared at it, his mouth hanging open, speechless.
Natasha jiggled the hard drive a couple of times, and he hesitantly reached up for it. "Is… is this…"
"Decrypted?" she supplied. "Yes. There is a single password which will be provided to you by Skye. No one else knows what it is. Barton's made some great guesses, though…. he's had Simmons blushing for days over it."
Ward was staring at the drive suspiciously. "What else is on it? If there's another virus or malware of any kind… they'll be looking for it."
"No, it's clean. There's still a catch, of course… this isn't Christmas. It only contains the data directly relevant to the Centipede Project…. and how to make it work."
Ward's head snapped up. "I'm sorry… make it work?"
Natasha nodded solemnly. "FitzSimmons have been working on this non-stop. Fitz has redesigned all the tech. Simmons went over all of Garrett's SHIELD medical records and they extrapolated likely conditions and the possible applications of Centipede prosthetics. In theory, they believe they've fixed whatever problems Garrett's implants are causing, and prescribed a medical treatment plan based on some Guest House research to go forward. We can't be 100% sure, of course, as neither of them were able to examine the patient, but…. well. They are a pretty brilliant pair, and they were very highly motivated."
Ward was staring at the hard drive again. He lifted his paper cup to his lips, noting with vague interest how severely his hand was trembling as he sipped. "Why would SHIELD allow this…? Who… I don't…understand…."
Natasha exhaled with a short laugh. "SHIELD doesn't exactly exist anymore, Grant. Put it in perspective… the SHIELD files on that hard drive were basically the only ones that weren't uploaded to the internet when we took down Pierce. It's sort of a drop in the bucket at this point, isn't it? Maybe Skye and her crazy hacker friends are right after all. Maybe information should be free. Maybe that really is the best way to keep everyone safe."
"Skye… what happens to her?"
Natasha shrugged. "Whatever she wants, I suppose. She's gonna be a mom soon, she can't exactly keep trotting around the globe on dangerous quests. I'm guessing she'll come up with a new identity and settle down somewhere. She mentions Southern California a lot, I think she misses the sun…."
"And the hard drive…? This is intended to keep her safe?" he pressed. "If they get this, she is agreeing to walk away from whatever she's doing here. She will disappear and leave this life behind?"
"Yes."
Ward swallowed the rest of his scotch in one gulp to hide his near-sob of relief. "How will they get the drive?"
"You're the one holding it, Grant. I imagine your friends would probably just shoot anyone else who tried to visit anyway."
He nodded slowly, his mind racing. Had it really come down to this? Was he really going to be able to save John and Skye, together? "When do I go?" he asked quietly.
"Whenever you're ready, just tell me what you need. And Skye has to give you the password, of course. I think she wants to have a moment with you, privately, as well. She didn't ask outright, but…."
"No, it's fine," he interrupted, almost desperately eager. "I want to see her too. Privately. I want to… to… hold her. All of her. Not just her hands."
Natasha chuckled and raised her hands defensively. "Say no more, please! I don't need the details. I'll talk to Coulson about it. You figure out if there's anything else you need to face the dragon."
Ward held up the hard drive. "Just the fish hook, Agent Romanoff. And when you're talking to Coulson, tell him to start building my statue."
