9. badger badger mushroom – buddy cop show

. . .

Agent Triplett didn't resist when the two freakily coordinated people in pilot jumpsuits handcuffed him to the steel table. It was the tiny interrogation room's dominant feature. Two cameras in two corners stayed fixed on him with little red dots to let him know they were live. The door was 1.5 inch tungsten steel and rebar core. He'd seen them before in other facilities. Hardcore stuff, but not without flaws. Interestingly, the room didn't have a two-way mirror in addition to the live feed. Well, at least he got a chair. He sat uncomfortably in it, holding his wrist up to show off the cuff with open annoyance. He kept his eyebrows bunched together, muttering hey every few seconds to get the pilots to talk to him. They never did.

One reached up to tweak the position of a camera and together, moving in unison, they left. He puffed a breath of air out and rolled his eyes, waiting for whatever big dog was going to come in to interrogate him. Another glance at the camera – would they let Loki watch? He was betting on the probability that they might. Otherwise, the tracking hadn't done him a lot of good. This place was a maze. Going to be hard to find their weirdly friendly creeper if he couldn't come to Triplett.

The door scraped open again only a moment later. "Man," he said to the back of a man he instantly identified as the facility's primary hostile target. "You got my stuff? Please don't tell me you just threw away my stuff."

"Why are you trespassing on government property, young man?" Manfredi shut the door and leaned against it. The man's voice was neutral enough to stall a car.

"Is it? You seen this place? It's so freakin' dead, I had no way of knowing anyone was here. Perfect territory, let me tell you." Triplett shook his head, staying annoyed. He put his hands down flat on the table. "You should have better fences and stuff. Like, at least some signs."

"There were signs."

He visibly paused, pretending to consider that. "Yeah, okay, I mighta seen one." He lifted his free hand and waved it to his side, gesturing and bobbing to make his point. "Half buried, maybe ten miles back. It could have come from anywhere."

Manfredi watched him. Triplett got the eerie sense of something else behind the man's driving eyes. "Dude, though, seriously. My stuff."

"Your stuff." It came out flat. The guy didn't blink. Ever. Triplett refused to be rattled by that, sticking to his persona.

"Man! It just rained." He dragged out the word for emphasis; part of a tiny set of simple codes previously arranged. "It's flowering out there like you wouldn't believe." Get the hint, freaky friend, if you're watching.

"You're a botanist."

"I'm a fun guy." Manfredi looked through him, not getting the joke. Triplett rolled his eyes. "I'm a fungi guy."

"And we think you're a deliberate trespasser. Who sent you? Who gives you your orders?"

He filled his face with slack shock. "What?"

"You don't look like you're from around here."

It didn't matter how this guy meant it. Disbelief and anger were easily harnessed for Triplett's role. "You... holy crap, dude. You legit think some... what the hell you thinking, spy is more likely than a black guy in Montana?" He fell back against his seat, shaking his head. "Go look at my stuff!"

"Mushrooms."

"Man. It's maitake season. Do you have any idea what that baby is worth per pound?" He pushed his hands towards Manfredi, palms up. "It's better than gold! You get some of those bad boys in your bucket, walk up to any restaurant in the area, and you just paid a chunk of your rent. Get two buckets? That's bills, too. It's a rough business. Lots of competition. So I find a place nobody is in, you're damn right I'm checking the trees."

Manfredi just watched him.

"Google it!" He exploded with the words. "This area has insane conditions for the stuff. Good moisture, some standing water, old growth... You ever eaten maitake? Hen of the woods? You saute that action in a little butter, brown it up, get the little bits crispy. Oh man, the wood notes." He bit his lip and shook his head for emphasis. "Never eat a button mushroom after that again, I promise. Hell, I think they're better than morels, and people go nuts for those."

Manfredi watched him steadily for a long, silent while. Then he turned to leave the room again.

"I swear, man!" Triplett slumped back, testing the cuff again with a tug. It creaked. Yeah. If he had to, he could get out. Even through the imposing door; the hinges weren't top notch. He glanced up at the cameras again, hoping. Don't make me do this on my own, man. I don't know the scene in here. Just what Coulson ran down for me. And he thinks you won't leave me stuck.

I don't know yet what I think.

For now, he hunkered in on himself to piece together the rest of a full backup plan.

. . .

Manfredi had left Loki – all but ordered him to remain – in the observation room. His own arrogant declarations that he had not been followed meant little to the changeling human. The lack of recognition on his face sold his act a touch better. What was likelier of Manfredi's two dominant assumptions – that Blackwing's actions indeed gained all the attention it had sought and brought more than one interloper to its door, or that Loki would permit an alliance with those behind the man locked in the interrogation room?

Whatever these creatures thought they knew of him would not allow for that. A scrap of luck. Not enough to balance out Triplett's little warning. Yes, he'd caught it. Decently subtle without context. Raina was in the scene, too. His nostrils flared, recalling her drive, her acquisitiveness. If she could throw matters into disarray and get him strapped to a slab for her purposes, she would do it without hesitation. A complication he could have done without, on this day of all days. A minor one, to be true – when last he'd seen her face, he wasn't precisely at his best.

The knowledge that today wasn't exactly going as he'd like, either, sat as an unwelcome companion to the acid in his stomach.

He glanced behind him as a displeased Manfredi at last returned to the observation room, all his thoughts newly buried lest this freak try to see them. "Some delay there," he said, his voice light as if they hadn't just been dancing around old sins. He didn't care that the words sounded fake in the facility's gloomy, heavy air.

Silence.

Dark hilarity visited him as he pictured the man hunkered over a laptop, typing 'fungi hunting' into Google with his pudgy fingers. "He speaks one truth about your flora that I know, I'll tell you freely. The things he speaks of are quite tasty."

Manfredi's gaze flickered to his, deeply unamused. "We are unconvinced. It doesn't matter. We can and will use him regardless of his origin."

Loki rolled his eyes, slouched back as if none of this mattered to him. He wished, fleetingly and sharp with dislike, that there was the old truth to that. "He's nothing but a hunter's drudge, youthful and prone to mistakes. But do as you like."

"Who is in charge here... sir?"

The cold fire came roaring back to life. He narrowed his glinting grey-green eyes into a piercing glower and stared down at the man. "Neither of us," he hissed.

That paused Manfredi. He gave a slow nod to acknowledge that the shot hit its mark. "You do recall our place."

The human phrase best applicable to this moment is 'eat shit.' He said nothing of this aloud. Monsters, all, and he once thought to be a king among them. Hel and damnation and eternal winters, but he could do without these memories shoved freshly into his face. Still, that chance of threat. It yet stayed his hand... that and the knowledge that Coulson's man ought leave this hole alive. It would please him, no doubt. Humans did not leave their companions behind unless all other choices were lost. This he had seen for himself. He glanced at the monitors again, considering behind his still narrowed eyes.

"We have a few things to do, preparations to make before we find our way from here." Manfredi flicked a hand at the monitor. "We will prepare him. Ensure he will observe. And then, when our fire falls from the sky, we may send him away from here alive. Broken, of course. But he will tell others what he saw here."

"Charming plan, not at all dramatic." The gist was plain; more assaults while they tortured Coulson's agent. Wonderful.

"Would you prefer to take that role for him, exiled prince?" The words were mild and the eyes still didn't blink.

Loki smiled back into them, caustic and fearless. And what strength behind you thinks you could try? Or are your threats empty, preying on what you think I am? What I have been? "Let us go talk of other matters, then. Your plans."

Manfredi shook his head. "We will send you to rest and wait. We will resume later."

. . .

Triplett looked up as the door scraped open again with agonizing slowness, eyes widening slightly. "Hey." He glanced at the cameras. "Hey, man, let me ou-"

"The monitors are off. I made certain." Loki kept a hand on the door until he was sure it wouldn't fall closed. The day was marked poor enough; being trapped by his own mistake would be too much to bear. "We've little time. Your warning is duly noted; feel free to expand at next soonest opportunity."

"It gets worse than Raina, dude."

"Oh, please. Don't tell me." Loki reached across the desk and passed a hand over the cuff attaching him to the desk. A soft clink was almost lost in the humid, heavy air of the room. "It's awful in here. If you had not come, I might have already painted the place in red." He went to the door again, sticking his head out to listen carefully. "I hate these people. You have no idea."

"I think I might. They coming?" Triplett rubbed at his freed wrist.

"Should not be." The grey-green eyes flickered over to him. "They led me to some chamber not unlike this one, intending I should wait and witness whatever fresh hell they're up to. I feel I should mention that was going to include your upcoming torture. Then I found a benefit to the way they think – they were already beginning their communion. The flickering join of their thoughts. They did not realize they led a shade of me, certain of their place and mastery of it. Did you smuggle in any supply with your message? Explosives?"

Triplett shook his head, causing Loki to sigh. "Tell me more when I've got us away from this room. We need further information. I at least know where to start."

"Any chance we just scoot out and fry the place?"

A mirthless smile. "Now you're talking. Unfortunately, the door seems controlled in several stages from within. No easy button next to the gate, I'm afraid. They were abundantly cautious. Simplest method... begins exactly where I planned on going. Their leader's office."

Triplett nodded once as Loki beckoned him out of the room and down the hall. "We'll argue about what plan to take when we get there, then. You're right. We should at least get intel first."

"I'm going to treasure that concession. Now, move quick. This place would give a robot the willies." Loki glanced over his shoulder at Triplett's double-take. "I'm not wrong."

"Hell you just say?"

"I'm not wrong." He jerked a thumb to indicate his upcoming route. "Quit dithering."

"The willies."

"Cousin to the heebie-jeebies."

"I'm telling Coulson we had this conversation," said Triplett, moving past him and picking up speed.