A/N: Spoiler Alert! This was story was inspired by Captain America: Civil War.

Enjoy, and don't forget to review.

Many thanks to CapriceAnn Hedican-Kocur for the Beta, and Black' Victor Cachat for brainstorming. And thanks also to Lady Pandora for the name of the chapter. 3

Namaste,

Sunny

Captain America

Civil War

I Still Believe

You Gotta Have Faith

Avengers HQ

"Tony, we have a problem at the Raft…"

A small smile came to Tony's face at the frantic note in Ross's voice. "Ah, please hold."

"No. Don't put me…" He pressed the button, cutting Ross off in mid-sentence.

Picking up the paper, Tony read the remainder of the letter from Steve.

"…I wish we agreed on the Accords, I really do. I know you were only doing what you believe in, and that's all any of us can do. It's all any of us should. So no matter what, I promise if you need us, if you need me, I'll be there."

Tony put the letter aside, and turned the box on end. A burner phone fell out. He picked it up, thinking about everything that he and the Avengers had been through the preceding weeks. It was his fault, and Steve's. They were all at fault to some degree. Just like they were all wrong, and right at the same time when it came to the Accords.

That Steve would attempt a jailbreak was inevitable. Asking him to leave his friends in a place they didn't belong was like asking a fox not to break into the henhouse. Once you turn your back, he's there, taking what he wants. Steve would see it as righting an injustice, correcting an error made by someone else.

Yes, they all shared the blame for what happened at Leipzig, but Tony knew that the lion's share lay with him. It always did. But maybe, just maybe, he could give the other side a little push without them knowing. Tony took the communicator from his shirt pocket. "Friday?"

"Here, boss."

Using one foot, he turned the chair so he could look out the window. "You're still jacked into the Raft, right?"

"You bet. What d'you need?"

"They should be experiencing a prison break lead by Captain Rogers."

There was as short pause, and Friday was back, and her voice held a small amount of humor. "You nailed it, boss. It's about to go down now, just as Secretary Ross said."

Using his foot to swing the chair in a circle, Tony shook the communicator. "Let's give them a helping hand."

This time, Friday sounded intrigued. "Good idea, boss. What did you have in mind?"

With a sad sort of smile, Tony gave Friday instructions for assisting the would-be prison breakers, and sat there watching the line blink just as he'd told Ross. After a few minutes, the light went out.

"Boss, you're not going to believe this."

Thinking about all the wondrous and strange events and situations he'd experienced since becoming Iron Man, Tony scoffed. "I'll believe almost anything. Hit me, girl."

"Someone's already in there. I'm reading a program that's almost an exact copy of yours."

A little annoyed, Tony pushed to his feet, and went to the coffee maker. "How can that be? The original program was written by me. It would take a genius on par with my own to…"

"I've sent the information to you." Tony touched his phone screen, and a HUD appeared above the bowl of fruit. "This is the man who created the program."

An image of government ID badge hovered in the air. The photo was of a man with dark curly hair, dark eyes, and a nervous expression. Tony sipped his coffee as he examined the photo and personal information displayed next to it. "I know him. He's SHIELD. Or was, and is again, or not. He was on the helicarrier when Fury showed up in Sokovia."

"Klein, Cameron Alonzo. Twenty-nine, single, born, and raised in Minnetonka, Minnesota. Graduated Carnegie Mellon University with a 4.0 average at the age of twenty-two with dual master's degrees in computer science and electrical engineering, and a bachelor's in mechanical engineering. Spent a year in Wakanda building low income housing, bridges, and water purification plants.

"While in high school, he was a disc jockey at a local radio station, hosting a three-hour late night jazz-oriented radio show called 'Jammin' with Cam'."

Taken aback, he almost did a spit-take. "Really?"

"No. I threw that in for fun, boss."

Tony huffed. "Just stick to the facts, Friday."

A hologram of Jack Webb as Sergeant Joe Friday appeared in the air, and included the voice. "Between the ages of thirteen and sixteen, Mr. Klein was diagnosed with a debilitating illness. In the course of treatment, he tired easily, and was unable to physically keep up with the other kids. While being home schooled by his adoptive parents, he taught himself computer code, and took online programming courses until he became quite adept at using computers."

He shook his head, and sipped from the glass. "Go back to the red-head, Friday. How adept?" A series of photos of red-headed women flashed on the screen. "No… no… no… wait… no… no… Forget it." Closing his eyes, he waved a hand. "Continue."

"The summer Klein was fifteen he hacked into the TechServe, Inc. database and downloaded the then current versions of 'Duty Bound', and 'MegaSphere', corrected the programming issues, improved the graphics, and made the games more player-friendly. He then re-uploaded the games to TechServe's game testers. When he graduated from university, he was recruited by TechServe's headhunters. He turned down a six-figure salary to work for SHIELD."

"How could SI have missed recruiting him when Insight nose-dived into the Potomac?"

The short pause gave Tony the impression that Friday had shrugged her shoulders. "You got me, boss. Want I should send him an invite?"

"Give it a couple of months, and I'll let you know."

"It's on the calendar, boss." There was another short pause. "There's one other item of interest in Mr. Klein's file…"

Rather than speak, Friday displayed the information, giving Tony more than a little food for thought. "Who knows about this?"

"I can only speculate." Tony made a hurry-up gesture. "Assuming that Mr. Klein and his parents know, I would say former Commander Hill, and ex-director Fury."

"Let's keep this to ourselves for now." Tony got to his feet, removed the sling, and tossed it on the desk on his way out the door. "I'll be in the lab. Try not to need me for at least a week. If Rhodey or… No, forward only Rhodey's calls."

"Yes, boss."

The AI's tone seemed to indicate that she felt sorry for him. You know your life's in the crapper when you're pitied by a computer program. Tony let out a long exhale as he called for the lift.

The Raft

Hangar Deck

The quinjet landed on the rain-lashed hangar deck, settling into place with barely a thump. While the engines were shutting down, the bay doors enclosed them inside, protecting them from the raging storm.

Steve looked at the mesh mask with misgiving while Natasha put on another as if it were something she did every day. She touched the right temple, and her features changed. Except for the hair and clothing, he wouldn't have known it was her.

It was the same with Hill. Something that happened earlier pricked at Steve's senses. Hill had smiled, walked, talked, and even had the same mannerisms, but something about her wasn't quite right. Steve looked over at where Hill was standing walking with Cameron, their heads close together, talking softly. From the snippets he could hear, she was giving him advice on how to conduct himself during the mission.

After his experience with Natasha and Bucky, Steve now recognized the signs of two people who were secretly intimate. It made him wonder about his own perceptions because he'd gotten the feeling that Hill kept herself emotionally removed from the rest of the staff. But was it because of her personality, professionalism, or she just didn't feel it was a good idea to get close to the people around you for whatever reason? Any one of those could be the why. And if so, then how did she and Cameron become a couple?

There was something else in the way they held themselves. He felt certain he was right about them being a couple, but perhaps they'd parted ways recently, and neither was quite used to it yet.

Once again, Cameron laid his hand on the small of Hill's back, nodding at something she said. Then realizing what he was doing, that hand joined the other behind his back, one hand gripping the other tightly as if to remind himself that he shouldn't be taking liberties any longer. Hill, on the other hand, touched Cameron on the arm, purposely bumped her shoulder against his, and smiled in that way woman did when they were flirting.

For his part, Cameron didn't respond to the gestures, which gave Steve a sense of pride in the man that he could stand his ground in private as well as professionally. Sharon had told Steve about the events that transpired in Operations after his announcement about HYDRA and Pierce. How, even with a gun to his head, Cameron had refused to launch the Insight helicarriers when ordered to do so by Rumlow. According to Sharon, Cameron's exact words were, "I'm sorry, sir. I'm not gonna launch those ships. Captain's orders."

It made Steve proud of the man he barely knew, and a little embarrassed that he'd inspired such devotion. Even considering that he worked for SHIELD, Cameron couldn't have expected to be in such a situation when he sat down at his computer that morning.

Steve had always thought of Cameron as a highly intelligent, yet nervous individual. But what he'd done the day SHIELD fell, and that he'd been willing to not only create a program that would break their friends out of a super-max prison, but insist on being a part of that team said much about his untapped potential.

Averting his gaze when Hill glanced over her shoulder, Steve now faced the back hatch. T'Challa would remain on board; ready to take off at a moment's notice. His second job was as back-up. Hopefully, Plan A would go off without too many hitches, though he wouldn't hold his breath. Thinking about his Howling Commandoes days, he could count the number of times Plan A had worked on one hand. More often, they'd had to go with plans B or C, but nothing beyond that.

Natasha snapped her fingers in front of his face. "Show time, Cap. Look alive. Remember, we're Klein's team, not the other way around. We move on his mark."

She gestured at their clothing. Like Cameron, they were all in black, though not as if they were part of a STRIKE team. And each carried a case that purportedly contained their equipment for performing routine, and not so routine, maintenance on the Raft's systems. The true contents would set off alarms all over the Raft.

Hill drew Cameron to the top of the ramp, giving his arm a quick squeeze, and nodding confidently, telling Steve that part of their whispered conversations were pep talks.

Cameroon took a deep breath, and let it out. He nodded to T'Challa, who hit the ramp controls. When the hatch was fully open, Cameron glanced over his shoulder at Steve, and he gave him a nod. At that, the computer tech's demeanor changed. He stood up straighter, shoulders back, and lifted his chin proudly as he marched down the ramp and across the vast hangar.

To the left and right were armored quinjets for transporting prisoners in case the Raft had to be evacuated. Equipment that Steve assumed was for maintaining the ships and the prison squatted along the periphery. Behind several panes of bullet and explosive proof glass, heavily armed guards glared at the approaching group. One man stood, and left the room, appearing in a doorway directly in front of them.

The man stood just over six feet, with dark hair, and the distinctive features marking him as Native American. His eyes were either light brown or hazel. Steve couldn't tell in this light. He was extremely fit, and wore his weapons, and authority, with casual strength, and assurance. He was good at his job, and knew it. Anyone who thought he wasn't paying attention to his surroundings would get a rude awakening, probably in the infirmary, if they chose to go against him in a fight.

From their body language, Steve could tell Cameron and the other man knew each other. The guard smiled warmly at Cameron as they shook hands. And if he had to guess, the two men had known each other for many years, possibly since before either had joined SHIELD.

"Peter Nacoma, senior agent for the Raft," Cameron waved a hand as he introduced them. "Jules Vero." Hill nodded, and gave Nacoma a tentative smile. "Franny Asher." Natasha took a half-step forward, leaving Steve for last. "Curtis Brooks."

"Welcome to the Raft. I suppose you've heard about our famous guests."

With Cameron in the lead, they followed Nacoma into the security office to have their IDs verified. Natasha touched Steve on the hand, and nodded. Steve crossed his arms to let her know he'd seen the look that passed between Nacoma and Cameron. They had a man on the inside, and Nacoma was it.

"We did, Agent Nacoma." Cameron smiled as he stepped out of the way. "In fact, that's why we're here."

In a flurry of hand-to-hand, the other guards were unconscious on the floor. Nacoma rushed to the main security controls, one hand out. Cameron passed him a clear data card, the agent stuck it in a specific slot, and tapped a few keys. "If anyone taps into the video feed, everything will look normal."

Steve stepped forward, asserting his place as their leader. The team opened the cases, and pulled out their weapons. These were meant to render an enemy combatant unconscious, not dead. "This has to be a quick in and out before Ross can send back-up."

Nacoma gestured, and the group followed him down a long corridor. "As long as they don't find out I helped you, it's all good."

Cameron stayed next to his friend, who gave him an odd look at seeing him carrying one of the weapons as if he knew how to use it. And he did. Hill and Natasha had seen to it. "No worries, Pete. We got it covered." At the lift doors, Steve, Natasha and Hill removed their masks, and shoved them into their pockets, revealing their true selves.

~~O~~

At the look on his friend's face, Cameron smirked. "Let me re-introduce my team. Steve Rogers, AKA Captain America."

Steve nodded. "Agent Nacoma."

Natasha stepped forward. Just before the mission, she'd cut her hair short again. "Natasha Romanoff. They call me the Black Widow."

When Maria moved to his side, Cameron couldn't help wishing things had been different between them. "Maria Hill, former commander of SHIELD. Everyone, Peter and I have known each other since we were kids."

The lift doors opened, and they got on. Using his code, Peter sent them downward toward the max prison cells at mid-level. "We used to tell people we were brothers from another mother."

Steve pushed the sleeves of his black sweater up over his forearms. "How are they? If your men have been mistreating them…"

Instead of being insulted, as Cameron thought, Peter caught and held Steve's gaze. "This isn't Gitmo, Captain Rogers. We're in international waters, and are governed by a select committee that oversees all that we do. Everyone here is treated with dignity, and compassion. They're just not allowed to move freely about the prison."

Cameron held out the tablet he'd used to tap into the video feeds for the cells. He enlarged the one of Wanda, showing her in a straightjacket and shock collar. "You were saying?"

"Not my doing, Cam. Orders from Secretary Ross. That man manifests a loathing for Inhumans that stops short of becoming real hate. But he's also afraid of them. He believes they're all abominations. Mixed in with the disgust is fear. Not only for himself, but for mankind. He truly believes that one day, Inhumans will outnumber ordinary humans."

With Steve standing next to him, Cameron could feel the stiffness in his posture at the mention of Ross. Before Steve or one of the others, could reply, Cameron powered down the tablet and shoved it into the inside pocket of his shirt. "Most of the Inhumans are enhanced, not mutants. The difference is that they were given their abilities through genetic manipulation, rather than nature."

Huffing, Peter crossed his arms. "We've been over this, Cam. I'm on your side. Always have been, always will. And yes, I do know the difference. We were ordered to take precautions so that Maximoff wouldn't influence those around her. Ross is afraid that if she's permitted to, she'll force us to turn on each other, or let them go. And he wants the Avengers to be an example to the rest of the Inhumans."

Annoyed, Natasha tensed up at the remark. "Only Wanda is Enhanced. The rest are just like you and me, Agent Nacoma."

Hill shifted her weight onto both feet equally, her finger caressing the trigger guard. "Forget about Ross. Let's get this done, and get out of here."

As if her words were a signal, the lift eased to a stop, and the doors slid open. Four brightly lit cells could be seen to the left, with a bank of huge monitors to the right. In the middle, sunken down a half level sat several guards going about their business, and paying no attention to the group as they stepped out of the lift.

On the far end was Clint, lying on his bed, knees up and hands behind his head, staring at the ceiling. Scott Lang sat on the floor, drumming on a small stool. Wanda… the poor girl looked defeated, demoralized, and bored all at once. Falcon paced his cell like a caged animal who was beginning to think he'd be locked up in this place for the rest of his life.

It made Cameron angry, and at the same time proud that he would be instrumental in helping them escape from an unjust incarceration.

Maria gripped his arm and smiled. "You can do this, Cam. I have faith in you."

Feeling confident and self-assured, Cameron hefted his weapon, powered it up, and grinned. "Saddle up, team. Lock and load."

Tony's Lab

Hand to his chin in thought, Tony walked around the holographic display hovering in the middle of the room. He heard a beep just before Friday announced, "Analysis complete. The mechanism is highly sophisticated. More so than what has been expected of HYDRA's pre-Loki's scepter tech. The arm fed input directly to and from Sergeant Barnes' brain so that it would function as if it were his flesh and blood limb. Well, except for the ability to deflect bullets, withstand Tasering, beams from the arc reactor, and a host of other benefits."

"Meaning he had a sense of touch, and could feel pleasure and pain. Makes sense. HYDRA may be evil, and too much into the world domination thing, but slackers they weren't."

"There's more, and you're not gonna like it, Boss."

Tony picked up a bag of blueberries, and popped a few in his mouth as he leaned against a table. "I already don't. Hit me."

"Most of the components were made by SI."

He dropped into a chair, crossing one leg over the other. "Not surprised. We've been selling to all the companies doing advanced cybernetic work since 2008. Even do some of the R&D on-site."

"Sorry to be the one to say it, boss, but many of the bits and pieces made by SI are at least thirty years old."

Surprised, Tony sat up straighter in his chair, and reached for a glass of iced coffee. "And the rest?

"They vary in age, with the newest having been made by SI in the last couple of years."

"Did you say thirty years? 3-0? Can't be right. Run the scan again."

The hologram turned and twisted. The arm split in half, with several different colors flashing. The legend ran down the right side indicating the age and composition of each component being scanned. "All previous scans confirmed. The majority of the cybernetic parts for this limb, and presumably its predecessors, were made by Stark Industries."

Tony got up, and walked around the hologram, using his right hand to turn some pieces, and enlarge others, so he could see them better. "If what we're both seeing is true…"

There was a pause that gave him the idea that Friday felt sorry for him. "It is. The company your father founded made the 'weapon' that ultimately killed him."

TBC

Faith is a song written and performed by George Michael, and was released October 1987.