Hammer smiled widely. "I am not worried, sir. You will think of something. Everything has been perfect since you deigned to touch my lowly self."

Sterns' lips twisted into a dark grin. "My touch has that effect, worm. And I need not think of something, for I already have. Am I not your Leader?" Yes, S.H.I.E.L.D. will come, and so will Stark and Banner. They will come looking for a fight, and I will not give them one. By the time they arrive, it will be too late to stop me.

"Oh yes, sir!" Hammer exclaimed, his face radiating pure, unfiltered joy.

"Good. Then here is what I want you to do..."


Invincible
By: Eva Grimm
Chapter Nine: Mind in Chains

"You can chain me, you can torture me, you can even destroy this body, but you will never imprison my mind."

Mahatma Gandhi


Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to Iron Man, Tony Stark, or any other Marvel intellectual property. Invincible is a fan-based work and not sold for profit.

***SPOILER ALERT: Spoilers for any Marvel movie and comic book — they're going to happen. You've been warned.


Saturday, May 29th, 2004 05:26p, EST | En Route from The Triskelion to Hammer Industries, Nevada Site

"Jarvis," Megan called out while she cruised through the skies, "I need the Audi en route to Hammer Industries' Nevada Site. Bring all the backup power cells for the suit we've got ready and the emergency food and water bundle we prepped, and a metal arm that can load the suit into the launcher. I'm definitely going to get there before you do, and I'll have to leave the suit for you to grab."

"Right away, ma'am," Jarvis immediately replied. "Quickest possible route will require using your personal jet, which I'm putting out the call to ready now. I estimate I can have the Audi there in two hours. Should I tell Dr. Banner anything?"

"No. I want to speak to him personally — patch me through." She waited a moment before continuing. "Bruce? Are you there?"

"Megan!" Bruce replied in a somewhat harried voice. "I saw the hearing on the news. Is S.H.I.E.L.D. really going to take all the responsibility? Make you an Agent… just like that?"

"Bit of a long story at the mo'. Suffice to say: Yes and yes, but we're going be hosting a long-term sleepover with Agent Barton until, err, Fury decides I'm not going to snap people's necks all willy nilly and what not."

There was a pause on the other end. "I… see," Bruce eventually responded. "Setting aside the result, I'd actually appreciate an explanation for why you did almost do that?"

"I fucked up, Bruce. Big time, and unfortunately, I'm not sure how long I've been doing it. I used to have my emotions firmly under my control… firmly under the importance of making rational decisions. Fury got me to take a hard look at what I was thinking when I almost killed Turgenov, and I realized that somehow — at some point — I lost that control. It hopefully shouldn't happen again, now that I'm aware and watching out for it, but I'm worried that I could somehow revert. I've already done it once."

"You say you lost control. How do you mean? What were you thinking at the time?"

"I was thinking about how he'd nearly killed Rhodey. And I… I subconsciously wanted to punish him for it," Megan reluctantly admitted, her loss of control still a sore spot.

"So you were wrestling with anger then. Meg, you know I can hel—"

"Bruce," Megan interrupted, "now is not the time. I'm currently on assignment and need to get in touch with Barton."

Bruce took a moment to breathe deeply and calm himself, then replied, "Fair enough. Just don't forget, okay? Now fill me in. What do I need to do?"

"Nothing. Fury just wants Hawkeye and me on it. Oh, and bonus: I'm apparently going to be learning how to be sneaky instead of just busting in with my suit. Tooooons of fun."

"So I'm just supposed to sit around and hope for the best? I could help, Meg."

"You're not blaming me, are you? It wasn't my decision. I know it'll be rough, but I suspect Fury would only want to use you when outright force is necessary. But since we're focusing on avoiding conflict…"

Bruce sighed. When he spoke again, his tone was one of resignation. "Just let me know what you can, when you can, okay?"

"Of course, Bruce," Megan replied, her tone somewhat softer. "I've got to go. I need to call Hawkeye. I love you."

"You too, Pearl."

Megan ended the call, awash with a strong mix of emotions. "Well, at least I'm aware of it, this time… Jarvis, get me Barton."

After a couple seconds of dial tone, Clint's voice filled her helmet. "Iron. What's your ETA?"

"I'm pushing the suit to its max speed. I'll be there in about an hour. You?"

"A bit longer than that: an hour and fifteen minutes. Heading out by VTOL. Are you ready for this?"

"Hey now," Megan replied with mock indignation. "Are you suggesting I wouldn't be?"

Clint chuckled. "Be honest. Stealth is not your specialty, and we have a mission to complete. This is going to be a trial by fire."

"Ha! No worries. That's how iron is forged. Here's what I'm thinking: When I get there, I out scope the place from a stealthy distance. I'm willing to bet the suit's too bulky for me to be all stealthy while carrying it, so once you get there, I leave the suit for Jarvis to pick up. He'll swap the power cells and load it into the launcher in case of an emergency. That means I'll be without the suit for about forty-five minutes. Think you're a good enough teacher to keep me from fucking up without it for that long?"

"O' ye of little faith. Solid plan, rookie."

"Oh, I know you didn't. Do not call me rookie."

Clint laughed outright before retorting, "See you there, rookie," and hanging up.


Saturday, May 29th, 2004 02:36p, PST | 10880 Malibu Point, 90265

Bruce stared blankly at the book laying in his lap, unable to focus on any of the pages' words. Ordinarily, he loved reading — especially anything with a focus on science. Books, magazines, scholarly journals… They all worked. But it had been nearly ten minutes since Megan had called, and he hadn't been able to focus on any of the words sense then. It's not my anger, Bruce noted as he took a mental inventory of how he was feeling. Of course, that particular tempest was still present in his mind, but it didn't feel any different than it had before she had called. So what is it then? Am I worried about her, since I'm not supposed to be there? She can handle herself just fine. Even if I hadn't known that before, she definitely proved it at the Tech Demonstration. So am I feeling protective of her and wanting to go help anyway? That would likely make everything worse, if I'm being honest with myself. I could accidentally throw off the mission and put people in danger… put Megan in a tight spot with Fury. Bruce stole a glance at his book to see if the words had become any clearer to him. They had not. What is it then?

I fear that may be my fault, Dr. Banner, a voice suddenly said in Bruce's mind. A voice that was definitely not his.

"Dr. Banner?" Jarvis' voice intoned throughout the living room, catching Bruce's attention. "There's a cab from Los Angeles pulling into the driveway, sir. And one of the occupants has an extraordinarily large, head and… Well, he's green," he finished somewhat lamely.

That is me, Bruce, the voice from before said. Please do not be alarmed. I may look different than before, but I assure you I am Dr. Samuel Sterns. Though maybe you best remember me as Mr. Blue?

Bruce's eyes widened dramatically. "It's… I think it's Samuel Sterns, Jarvis. At least, that's what the voice in my head is saying. God, listen to me! 'Voice in my head?' I really am going insane aren't I?"

Not insane, Bruce, the voice retorted. It truly is me. My speaking to you like this… Something has happened to me. I need your help with it.

"I'm going to check it out," Bruce announced to Jarvis after he had taken a moment to deliberate on what to do. "I'm not sure what's going on, but if something really has happened to Sterns, then… He helped me before. I have to see if I can help him in return."

"If you say so, sir…" Jarvis acknowledged, obviously hesitant, as Bruce abandoned his book and began to make his way towards the front door. When he reached it, he only hesitated for a moment before opening the door.

Standing there on the door step, just waiting for the door to open, was the mutated form of Samuel Sterns. "Hello, Bruce," the Leader said the moment he locked eyes with his target. "Something happened to me back in NYC. I believe it was the introduction of some of your blood — which I replicated to help you with your problem — into my mouth during the events of this past New Year's Eve." He held up a picture — it was his NYU faculty photo. "I know we have never met in person, but I have a picture of my original self, if it helps you see that I am who I claim to be."

Bruce stared at the green man before him and the picture he was holding up, barely able to see the resemblance but nevertheless unable to deny it. "Forgive me," he finally replied. "This is just a bit… extraordinary."

"No forgiveness necessary. It was much the same for me when you first explained your problem all those years ago." He stuck out his hand in invitation for a handshake. "It is a pleasure to finally meet you. I hope we can work together to find a solution."

Bruce cast his eyes down to gaze upon the green hand waiting to shake his own. Fair is fair. He tried to help me with my problem, I should do the same. He grasped the Leader's hand.

The Leader smiled and gestured towards the taxi, where the driver was blankly staring forward. The confused Bruce tried to ask what Sterns was suggesting, but, to his surprise, his body silently nodded and began to make its way towards the vehicle. Panicking at the sudden hijacking of his body, Bruce internally began to fight for control, but it was futile. Together with the Leader, he entered the taxi.


Saturday, May 29th, 2004 05:39p, EST | En Route from The Triskelion to Hammer Industries, Nevada Site

"Ma'am, Dr. Banner is leaving the premises with Dr. Sterns," Jarvis announced to Megan.

"Sterns?" she replied, racking her brain for where she knew the name. "That professor who was helping him back before NYC? Mr. Blue, right?"

"Yes, ma'am, the same."

"Why is Sterns there, Jarvis? Did Bruce say why he's leaving?"

"Dr. Sterns was mutated at some point, and he had come to request Bruce's help with curing him," Jarvis replied as he brought up images in her HUD for her to compare: The one Sterns had been holding, and an image of him captured by one of her security cameras. "Dr. Banner seemed to imply he could hear Dr. Sterns in his head and went to the front door to meet him. They discussed why he had come — to get Dr. Banner's help, as I said before — and left after they shook hands. Neither spoke after they shook hands. Dr. Banner just left with him."

Megan frowned as she looked at the image in her HUD. "That sounds really odd. Call him, Jarvis."

The phone had barely begun to ring when Bruce answered his phone. "Meg! I was just about to call you."

"Bruce," she replied, her voice laced with worry. "Jarvis just told me about Sterns. What are you going? You shouldn't be out without me. What if you hurt someone?"

"Don't worry, Pearl. You know I have better control than Fury gives me credit for. We're just heading out to Sterns' lab nearby, where he's been researching a cure for himself since NYC. I'll be okay — I swear it."

"I…" Megan murmured hesitantly. She didn't like the idea of him heading out, but she knew there was nothing she could do to keep him at home. He can take care of himself. "I can't say I'm happy about it, but I trust you. Stay safe, okay? I love you."

"You too. I'll talk to you later."

"Call Fury, Jarvis," Megan said after Bruce hung up. "I may trust Bruce, but I need to keep spy boy in the loop."

"This is Fury," the director said as he answered her call. "You haven't already reached Hammer Industries, Iron, so why are you calling?"

After she explained what had transpired, she concluded, saying, "I figured you would want to know."

"Dr. Banner may be showing progress in his control, but I still want a detail on him. You said they left in a taxi. What's the number?"

Without her needing to ask, Jarvis brought up an image of the taxi in her HUD. "It's 6027." She paused for a moment, then said, "You'll let me know if something's wrong." It wasn't a question.

"I will," Fury acquiesced, "but keep your mind focused on your mission, Iron. We'll worry about what's going on with this Dr. Sterns afterwards. I have still have unanswered questions from the New Year's Eve 2003 incident."

"Understood, Director. Iron Woman out."


Saturday, May 29th, 2004 03:29p, PST | Hammer Industries, Nevada Site

The Iron Woman hovered high in the air about a mile away from the factory, its red eyes fixated on the building. "Well, we're here," Megan murmured as she zoomed in as far as her optics would allow and began to survey the workers as the bustled about. Although she could see them from this distance, what she saw wasn't very clear. "Jarvis, can we detect the security cameras from here?"

"Yes, ma'am. I'm highlighting them on your HUD now."

"Excellent. If possible, throw in estimates for their line of sight. Also, keep an eye out for anything that could spot me at distance. Telescopes, binoculars — anything. I'm moving in for a closer look."

"Consider it done."

About a dozen fields of light appeared on her zoomed in HUD, indicating the building's security cameras. It appeared there was nothing that worked long-distance, so she restored her HUD to normal eyesight levels and with a burst from her thrusters began to fly towards the factory. She found a rock outcropping about three-quarters of a mile away from the building, landed on it to provide additional balance and conserve what remained of her power cells, and zoomed in once more. This time, she could see the workers much more clearly.

Well, I don't see Turgenov anywhere, but to be honest, he would likely be indoors, so seeing him from here was a long shot. There's a helipad, but no helicopter. The workers are… Wait, what the fuck? "Jarvis, get me Hawkeye."

"We'll be there in about nine minutes. What are you seeing, Iron?" Clint said immediately upon answering his phone.

"Some crazy shit, Hawkeye," Megan replied, her voice clearly expressing that she was disturbed. "The workers are all carrying military-grade weaponry and have bombs strapped to their chests."

There was silence at the other end of the line for a moment. "You've got to be kidding. They know we're coming, and they're prepared to kamikaze? What the hell is going on in that factory?"

"My thoughts exactly. Something is seriously amiss. We're talking about Justin Hammer's employees. He isn't charismatic by a long shot, so it's not loyalty. The price for someone to willingly commit suicide has got to be astronomical. Is he really paying them that much?"

"What about Turgenov? Any sign of him?"

"Not from here. I'll circle the factory and keep my eyes peeled, but I seriously doubt he would be outside. Indoors is likely the ideal work conditions, and besides which, this guy's passport said he was Russian, so the heat of the outdoors would likely be killer to him."

"All right, good work. Stay out of sight. See you in eight minutes."


Saturday, May 29th, 2004 03:11p, PST | Los Angeles International Airport, the tarmac

As the taxi parked next to the waiting plane, the Leader and Bruce stepped out and began to board it. Foolish S.H.I.E.L.D., the Leader thought to himself as he reached the top of the boarding stairs. Sending only one agent to follow Banner just made everything easier. She tells you Banner and I are at my lab, but we're actually on our way to add Stark to my collection. Once he had entered the plane, a mind-controlled employee decked with weapons and a bomb like his counterparts in Nevada approached him.

"The helicopter is ready for us at LAS, my Leader," the man said.

The Leader did not bother to address his peon and instead turned into the first compartment, which ordinarily would have been used as a meeting room. The conference table was still present, but Ivan Vanko was its only occupant. Littered across the table were swaths of electronic parts and tools, all of which were encompassing a pair of whips attached to a harness.

"When will your whips be ready, my soldier?" the Leader inquired as his eyes closely examined his handiwork.

"I am half done, my Leader," Ivan responded. "They will be done in approximately one hour."

"Do not fail me," the Leader commanded before moving through the room into the next compartment, which contained a desk intended for Hammer's use while traveling.

Bruce, who had followed the Leader like a silent sentinel, spoke up as the green man took a seat in the rooted office chair behind the desk. "How may I serve, my Leader?"

"The recordings of your fight in NYC show you transforming after hitting the ground at terminal velocity." His blue eyes turned to gaze at Bruce's own, neon green orbs. "If you are dropped from a helicopter at height when we reach the facility, you will transform, yes?"

"That is correct."

"When we reach Las Vegas, you will come with me and Vanko in the helicopter, my pet. You will remain there until I command you to leap from the helicopter and attack. Do not kill Stark; she too is to become my pet. Do not fail me."

Bruce shivered, or he would have had he had control over his own body. He called Turgenov… Vanko his soldier, but he calls Megan and me his 'pets'? What is this fucker going to do to us? I have to stop him! I will not allow this! Bruce's right hand briefly twitched, as if it wanted to flex but quit as soon as it had begun. The Leader missed seeing it, however, as he had already closed his eyes and begun to review the scenarios for the upcoming confrontation.


Saturday, May 29th, 2004 03:43p, PST | Hammer Industries, Nevada Site

Megan landed together with the S.H.I.E.L.D. VTOL and began to shed her armor as Clint disembarked, his recurve bow in hand and a quiver of arrows strung across his back. "I'm ready when you are, Hawkeye. I'm anxious to get to the bottom of this."

"Well curb that anxiety," Clint replied as Megan's suit finished the process of reverting to a suitcase. "If you get tunnelvisioned on the goal, then you're liable to mess up trying to reach it." He jabbed his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the VTOL. There's a S.H.I.E.L.D. uniform in there along with a pistol and an earpiece communicator. Suit up."

Megan left the suitcase laying on the sandy ground for Jarvis to pick up when he arrived and strode forward towards Clint and the VTOL. As she passed Clint, she handed him her phone. "Take a look at that. I had Jarvis create a 3D map of the place, complete with locations of security cameras and the complete, but approximate, field of vision of their rotation. I'm already familiar with it."

Clint's eyebrows rose in genuine surprise. "Maybe you won't be such a bad apprentice after all, rookie."

"Don't be surprised; I'm awesome incarnate," she retorted with a humor laced voice as she entered the VTOL. "Also, if you're going to keep calling me that, then I reserve the right to call you a ridiculous mentor nickname." She glanced at the pilot in the front seat. "Peek, and I assure you you'll live to regret it." The pilot formally saluted her, which caught her completely off guard, before he turned to face forwards.

"Alas, I think you'll find there's a shortage of them," Clint quipped.

"How about Obi-Wan? I think you could pull off the old and white-haired look."

Clint laughed outright. "Not so much. I'm much more suited to the younger Obi-Wan in Episode II."

"Ah, but if you're that Obi-Wan, and I'm your apprentice, then that puts me in the role of Anakin Skywalker, who we all know betrays him and becomes Vader."

"Yeah, but I would get the better deal in the long run. Obi-Wan isn't killed until he's much older, but early on, Anakin gets fucked up so bad he has to wear a special suit to stay alive."

Fully dressed in one of the dark suits she was used to seeing Natasha wear and studiously ignoring the image her imagination had conjured up of herself in a version of her armor similar to Vader's, Megan stepped out of the VTOL and walked over to stand by Clint. "True. Anakin's going to seriously get pwned in Episode III. I'm looking forward to seeing it. Here's hoping it's better than that dreadful bore Episode II."

Clint blinked. "'Pwned?' What the hell does 'pwned' mean?"

Megan stared at Clint before palming her forehead and releasing a mock sigh of exasperation. "I guess you're not a videogamer. Damn shame. It's just slang for 'owned.' Gamers use it to insult people they beat."

"Let's focus on the mission," Clint replied, bringing Megan's focus back to the task at hand as he returned her cell phone, which he had already put on silent. "The security camera coverage is lighter on the north end of the factory, which I presume is why you told us to meet you on this side. Depending on how fast you can run, we've got between a six and eight minute run to get there. For now, let's start walking." Once the duo had begun striding towards the building, Clint continued. "First, let's check our communicators. Finding out they don't work after you've split up can be a death sentence." He lifted his finger to his communicator and said, "Testing."

"You're coming through fine here," Megan said as she tapped her communicator.

"Same here. Now, remember, our priority here is stealth, but you've got a pistol in case shit hits the fan. Do you know how to use one of those?"

Megan grimaced. "I can tell from looking at it what parts do what, but I've never shot a gun before, no; just held them for demonstrations back in the day."

"Well, this is all a trial by fire anyway," Clint said with a frown. "I suppose the fire just got a couple degrees hotter is all. Lesson number one: The most important parts of stealth are noise and field of vision. Stay quiet and out of sight, even if you're just barely so, and you'll do all right. You're going to have an easier time today without your armor, but you've still got a, pardon the choice of words, handicap where you're left leg is concerned. Your design is quiet, all things considered, but it's still a bit noisier than the average human leg."

"Right," Megan said with a wince at Clint's reference to her leg. She pulled out her phone and held down a button on the side. "Jarvis, add 'stealth leg prosthetic' to my to-do list." She glanced at Clint as she released the button and asked, "Anything else, Obi-Wan?"

"Just one thing, rookie." He turned to face her with an expression of utter disgust. "Every inch?"

"No, no," Megan replied with a giggle. "I just wanted to see the look on your face. If you'd like that, though…"

Clint brandished his bow as he retorted, "Do it, and I'll string you to the wall upside down until you beg for mercy."

Megan quirked an eyebrow. "'Until I beg for mercy'? Careful, Hawkeye, or you'll make Bruce green with envy."

Clint groaned and gestured towards the factory. Without another word, the duo broke into a steady jog towards the facility.


Megan watched Clint with a keen eye as he swiftly, yet silently, darted from the cover where they had been hiding to another altogether. "Your turn," Clint murmured through the communicator. "Wait for the camera to swing back to the left, then go. Remember there's a guard within hearing distance but facing away."

Not bothering to reply, she locked her eyes onto the security camera in question and waited. As it approached the end point of its swing back to the left, she took a deep breath in order to keep herself steady. The moment it reached the return point, she propelled herself into motion and strode as silently as possible to the location where Clint was waiting.

"Acceptable," Clint acknowledged without her saying a word upon her arrival. "I would have heard you, but these guys are low caliber." Megan held back the small twinge of hurt that accompanied her brief, tiny swell of pride, but Clint had already diverted his attention to look at the guard nearby.

After a minute of complete silence and no movement from him, Megan finally whispered, "Hawkeye? Is something wrong?"

Without diverting his gaze from the guard, he softly replied, "Just a hunch right now, but I think these guards aren't normally guards. I think they're actually regular employees. I noticed awhile back that none of them were wearing uniforms, but I disregarded it as unimportant overall. But the more I look at them, I think these people were just pulled from their work before being strapped to a bomb and handed a gun."

Megan frowned. "But their patrol patterns… They're perfect. Endlessly repeating. Would production line workers really be so exact?"

"Wait, did you say they're 'perfect'?" Clint replied in a rushed whisper.

"Yes. I noticed it earlier while scouting, but suppose I didn't think anything of it because…" She released a soft sigh. "I'm an idiot. I didn't think anything of it because I was used to seeing that type of thing playing my PlayStation. Sorry, Hawkeye."

"Lesson learned. We'll have to keep an eye out for more oddities. We need to move. Been in one place for too long."

The pair slowly and silently (at least relatively so on Megan's part) made their way closer to the largest building on site. For each change of cover, Clint would go first to demonstrate the path, then Megan would follow, doing her best to mimic him exactly.

"Lesson two," Clint continued, after they had reached a new cover where they could speak without being overheard, "is ordinarily disguise. However, these guys are acting so oddly that I can't help but feel disguise would be futile here."

"Also," Megan murmured, "bombs. I'd really rather not strap one to my chest, especially if I don't know what sets it off."

"Fair point." He gestured towards the next location, and they began to move from cover to cover once more.

"By the way, if it makes you feel any better, Iron," he whispered once she'd reached his position behind the last piece of cover before their target, "you're already doing a lot better."

"Well, I suppose that's the point, Hawkeye," Megan quietly replied. "So security cameras are watching all of the entrances to the building. How exactly are we getting in? Climbing?" Clint gave her a look. "Oh, you're fucking kidding me. Note to self: Create a stealth suit. Climbing is too undignified."

Clint smirked. "Yeah, I suppose it is compared to flying. We're going to the roof first. Your map showed no guards on top of the building, and there are skylights. From there, we can plot out how we're going to enter the building by watching the guards near those third floor windows. I haven't seen many from outside, so I'm hoping they're low in number on that level." He jabbed a finger towards a guard nearby. "That one faces this wall briefly in his patrol, but that's okay because the rest of it is long. The moment he turns away, I'll get us a rope." He deftly worked the controls located on the handgrip of his bow, which elicited a nearly silent whir of movement from his quiver. Silently and smoothly he withdrew an arrow from the quiver on his back, but it had no arrowhead. Instead, it had three metal claws that were clenched together. A thin black rope was attached to the opposite end of the shaft and ended inside Clint's quiver. "You go first this time and as quickly as you can, Iron. I'll follow after, since the rope is connected to my quiver."

Megan stared at Clint for a moment then his arrow then him once more. "Huh," she murmured. "Nifty toy. I trust you've factored both of our weights into that arrow's weight limit, so okay. Let's do this, Legolas."

Megan tensed as the guard Clint indicated earlier began the small portion of his patrol where he'd be facing the wall she would be scaling. Clint nocked his arrow, causing the three claws to nearly silently snap open. After a few more seconds, the guard turned, Clint released the arrow, and together, they quickly but quietly crossed the distance between themselves and the wall. Once the arrow attached itself to the edge of the roof, Megan grabbed ahold of the rope, internally grateful that her S.H.I.E.L.D. came complete with gloves, and began to scale the factory wall as swiftly as she could muster. Her arms screamed in protest. Their slim, muscleless build was suited to work in her lab — not this type of activity. Shut up, arms! Megan internally cried out. Remember that guard with the M4 Carbine and the bomb strapped to his chest? He's going to be very interested in killing you, if I don't get to the roof quickly! Finally, she reached the top of the wall and with one final effort, she pulled herself onto the roof, where she laid face up on her back, panting as quietly as she could.

A moment later, Clint was on the roof, crouched beside her with an amused expression on his face. "Not much physical activity with those videogames of yours, I take it."

She gave him the bird as she muttered between gulps of air, "I said it… once, and… I'll say… it again… I'll build… a stealth suit… No more… climbing… ever."

Clint patted her on the head, dodged her retaliatory swat, and made his way over to the nearest skylight. He stole a quick peek, his eyes focused on the third level to scope out the guard placement. After he mentally noted their likely fields of vision and was satisfied he could take a longer look, he stuck his head over the skylight once more. His eyes raked over everything in sight, causing him to tense up slightly. Noticing his stiff posture, the now slightly recovered Megan softly asked, "What is it? What do you see?"

"Come here, Iron," he replied. "I need your weapons knowledge to confirm what I'm looking at."

Well that sounds promising. With a small grunt of effort, she pulled herself into a crouched position, moved over to Clint's location, and gazed down through the skylight. She paled. On the factory floor, four mobile missile launchers were each loaded with four of an all too familiar type of missile. "Those are Jericho missiles, Hawkeye!" she fiercely whispered.

Clint reached up to his communicator. "Fredericks," he whispered through the communication line to the VTOL pilot, which Megan heard in her own communicator. "Get the Director on this channel."

After a few seconds, Director Fury's voice filled her right ear. "Report, Barton."

"Sir, Iron and I are on the roof of the factory, and we've got four mobile missile launchers carrying what Iron just identified as sixteen Jericho missiles between them all."

Megan reached up to tap her own communicator. "With the range on these missiles, they could attack a city as far away as San Francisco, sir. I can disarm them if I get close enough, but the area is guarded by employees carrying M4 Carbines and bombs strapped to their chests."

Fury immediately responded, "How much potential damage are we talking about, Stark?"

"If they used all of them strategically on, say, just Los Angeles, they could obliterate the entire city. If they carefully pick and choose their targets, however, they could wipe out some key buildings in numerous cities. Regardless, we're talking about millions of deaths."

"Barton, can you clear the area for Stark without raising the alarm?"

Barton's eyes drank in everything they could see, pinpointing the locations of all the employees and cameras. Two guards on the third level, solid walkway with sniper rifles, not quite facing each other. No risk of blood dripping down to the second level. No one in the third floor office. Five guards on the second level, solid walkway, with exploitable gaps of eyesight coverage of each other. Again, no risk with the blood. Stairwells between all the floors. Eleven on the ground level, plenty of coverage to exploit. "Yes sir, I can."

"Then training time is over. When will your armor be ready, Iron?"

Megan pulled out her phone and whispered to it, "J, if you weren't already, connect to the line my S.H.I.E.L.D. communicator's on. When you do, give me an ETA on your arrival and getting the suit to me."

After a moment, Jarvis' voice intoned into the S.H.I.E.L.D. line, "I will be there in approximately twenty-five minutes and ready to launch the suit one minute after my arrival."

"That will have to do," Fury replied. "Both of you keep your eyes open for Turgenov, but he is no longer priority. Barton, clear the area. Stark, once you've got your opening, disarm those missiles; until then, do whatever Barton tells you. Backup is on its way, but you can't rely on it. Millions of people are counting on you two to succeed."

Clint immediately snatched two tools from his belt and set to work. The first was a handled with four clenched arms, similar to his grapple arrow, and at the end of each of the little arms was a shallow cup with a hole in the middle — air suction cups. The arms snapped out, and he carefully placed the device against the glass. Once it emitted a soft whooshing noise, he released it and released the blade from his other tool, a glass cutter. Three broad cuts later, he grabbed the suction tool in his off hand and completed cutting the square with one more cut. He pulled the glass square free and set it aside, releasing the air suction and storing both tools on his belt once more.

He turned to Megan. "There are two guards on this first walkway. They aren't looking at each other, and the ones on the walkway below aren't looking up. I'm going to rappel down using my grapple arrow and kill the two guards before I drop down onto the walkway. I'll release the rope from my quiver, so when you've recovered enough arm strength, use it to get into the building. There's an office on the third level with no one in it. See if you can disable the missiles from the computer in there. You can do that, right?"

"Yes," she replied. "I can do that, provided the system has a connection with the missiles. I'll let you know through the communicator."

"Good. Don't expect a reply. We're playing this too close to the chest for me to risk being heard."

"Understood. And Hawkeye?"

Clint glanced over his shoulder to look at the woman who was now, more or less, his fellow agent. "Yeah, Iron?"

"Good luck."

He gave her a nod of acknowledgment as he replied, "You too." With that said, he withdrew another grapple arrow from his quiver, thrust it harshly into the ground, and dropped through the hole in the skylight. He deftly used his bow handle's controls to stop his decent about halfway between where he'd entered the building and the third walkway. He pulled his first arrow, nocked it, and sent it flying through the eye of one of the third floor guards. In a flash, he had had done the same for the other guard, who hadn't noticed anything amiss. The floor now clear, Clint used his bow's controls to descend to the solid walkway of the third floor and release the rope from his quiver.

Megan gave her arms a test flex to see how they were holding up and found them still reasonably tired. I'm not climbing up this time, though, she noted to herself. Just down. All I have to do is hold myself in place against gravity; not pull myself against it. She took a couple of deep breaths to prepare herself then gripped the rope and began her own descent. Her arm muscles understandably protested but held up better compared to her climb. She slowly but surely made her way down and by the time she reached the third walkway, Hawkeye had already made his way down to the stairwell and begun stealthily making his way to the second floor. Her feet safely on the ground, Megan breathed a soft sigh of relief and swiftly made her way to the office, withdrawing her phone along the way.

"J," she whispered to the phone as she entered the office. "Get me access to the entire system. Run a search to see if we can control the missiles from here. While you're at it, see if you can find any security footage with Hammer in here or any documents with details about the missiles. We need to figure out what his plan is." Without waiting for an answer, she placed the phone on top of the main computer tower and began to survey the rest of the room. No paper document files or loose documents laying around. Her eyes fell upon the room's lone printer. No forgotten printouts, but let's see what was printed recently. She moved to the printer and deftly pulled up the print log. One job still in the RAM. She disconnected the network cable in case the printout would be registered elsewhere in the compound, then reprinted the sole document in the machine's memory.

"The missiles aren't controlled through this unit, ma'am," Jarvis announced in a carefully controlled volume as the printer began to churn out a document. "Cluster search of documents stored in this unit's hard drive shows that one of the missiles was purchased from Obadiah Stane and eventually used to recreate the other fifteen. I also have security footage from today at 12:48p that you're going to want to see."

At her AI's prompting, Megan abandoned the printer for the moment to watch the monitor as Jarvis began playback of the video. She watched horrified as Hammer spoke with the mutated Samuel Sterns.


"So you got him out? … Excellent. You'll get the rest of your payment once you get him here. Don't get pulled over or do anything else that would fuck this up. … Everything's going according to plan, my Leader."

"Of course it is. I thought of everything… S.H.I.E.L.D. will undoubtedly discover that man is being brought here. A security agency of their caliber will have taken precautions to ensure they could identify such a valuable target. Our decoy will only buy us time."

"I am not worried, sir. You will think of something. Everything has been perfect since you deigned to touch my lowly self."

"My touch has that effect, worm. And I need not think of something, for I already have. Am I not your Leader?"

"Oh yes, sir!"

"Good. Then here is what I want you to do: Get Vanko to LAX and give him the tools to begin building his whips. He will undoubtedly begin crafting them without my touch's… encouragement, though I will touch him nevertheless once I reach there. Have a taxi ready on the tarmac by the moment I get off the plane. Ensure the helicopter is refueled by the time I return to LAS. Tell the employees to ready the Jericho missiles, don their bombs, retrieve their weapons, and man their stations. If Megan Stark comes to the compound, she is not to be harmed; detain her until I can touch her. Load the targets into the launchers' systems, then remove all network connections between them and this office. Once you have done these things, take your emergency cash stores to the location I showed you earlier, leave them there, then drive into downtown Las Vegas and kill yourself where everyone can see."


"Fuck!" Megan said much louder than she should have. Thankfully, Clint had already cleared the next level and began taking out guards on the ground floor, so between the distance and the muffling effect of the office walls, no one heard her outburst. "J, send this video to F—, I mean the Director." She brought her hand up to her communicator. "Director, Hawkeye. The third floor office doesn't have control over the missiles; only the launchers do. But we have a serious problem incoming. Security footage shows that Sterns, the mutated guy who was at my house earlier, can apparently brainwash people into following him if he touches them, and I… saw him touch Hulk earlier."

Hawkeye didn't reply, true to his word, but Fury replied immediately. "Stark, stay focused! You cannot worry about Banner right now!"

"Don't patronize me, sir," Megan harshly bit back. "Yes, I'm worried about Hulk, but that's not what I'm trying to tell you. Think about what this could mean here. Sterns clearly spoke as though he knew we would be coming. He could be bringing Hulk here as we speak. I know your tail hasn't said anything, but if he caught wind of them, then he could have touched them too."

There was a pause on Fury's end of the line. "That's a fair point, Stark. I have the video now; I'll watch it in a moment. Anything else we need to know?"

"Sterns clearly labeled me as a target. He wants me detained until he can brainwash me." She twisted on her heel, strode over to the printer, and snatched up the document that had finished printing nearly a minute ago. Glazed-over eyes absorbed every detail on the pages as she flipped through them at rapid speed. "Somebody, probably Sterns, printed off a dossier earlier about somebody called 'Ghost,' though there's not much in this. Mostly speculation, oddly enough. J, check the print queue on the computer for the file location, then send it to the Director. Hawkeye, I'm coming down. Let's finish this." As she quietly left the walkway, she whispered into her communicator, "Updated ETA, J?"

"I will be there in ten minutes and ready to launch the suit one minute after I arrive."

"Well, let's hope that if he is coming, Sterns doesn't get here with Hulk until at least then."

As she reached the ground level, Clint nocked an arrow and sent it crashing through the skull of yet another mind controlled employee. Four left, he mentally noted as he prepared his next shot.

With the way clear to the first two launchers, Megan stealthily made her way to the second, slipped into the driver's seat, and set her phone by the dashboard's controls. "J, can you neutralize this set of missiles and the two nearby sets as well?" she whispered into her communicator.

-thwip- Another employee was dead. Three left, Clint noted.

"Yes, ma'am," Jarvis simply replied before he immediately set to work on the three sets of missiles.

Without another word, Megan exited the vehicle and began to move as stealthily as she could towards the fourth and final launcher. As she edged around a corner, she suddenly found herself facing the back of an employee. What the hell? I thought this way was clear! Before she could retreat to safety, the man began to turn around. NO! Time seemed to slow down as adrenaline surged through her veins. She thrust herself backwards to give herself some space and her hand snatched the pistol from her belt. The man caught sight of her, his eyes widening with recognition, and he moved his rifle to take aim at her right leg for a crippling shot. But she had moved sooner than him. Before he could pull the trigger, she brought her pistol to bear on his head and squeezed her own trigger, clenching her eyes shut as she did so. Clint's arrow devastated one of the other two men at the same moment Megan's bullet blew a hole through her target's forehead. Upon hearing the gunshot, the final employee acted immediately. He slammed his palm against the bomb on his chest, causing the bomb to explode instantaneously.

Miraculously, the explosion was small enough to not cause any of the Jericho missiles to prematurely explode. Nevertheless, the blast sent a nearby stack of containers toppling towards Clint, who had to throw himself out of the way to avoid being crushed. "Iron!" he yelled out, stealth abandoned altogether. "Disable the last set of missiles!"

Thankfully, no environmental hazards had occurred in Megan's vicinity in the wake of the suicide bomber, as she was still rooted in place — her eyes clenched shut and her entire body quivering. Her ears were still reverberating from firing her pistol, but Clint's shouted command cut through the noise enough that she still heard him. She shakily pulled herself to her feet and began to stumble towards the fourth launcher as fast as she could.

We… We just killed an innocent man! emotional-Megan cried out.

He was trying to shoot us! rational-Megan harshly retorted, trying to maintain her control over her emotional counterpart.

Yes, but he was going for a crippling shot, and he was brainwashed! Megan's real self sobbed as the thought crossed her mind.

This is so not the time! We have to disarm those missiles! The lives of millions of innocent people are counting on us!

"Hawkeye!" Megan blurted as she slammed the door to the launcher open and threw herself inside. "Stay by me! Sterns told them to capture me alive, so they hopefully won't detonate their bombs near me!" Clint, who had pulled himself to his feet, burst into a sprint in her direction and swapped arrowheads, anticipating the employees outside would open the door to the cargo bay. Moments later, the cargo bay door began to open as Megan, her eyes glazed over, began to swiftly neutralize the missile launcher's payload. Clint slid to a halt next to the launcher Megan was in, nocked an explosive arrow, and sent it flying into the mechanism pulling the bay door open. Megan gave a brief shout of triumph as she finished neutralizing the missile, and at the same moment, an employee began to crawl through the open gap under the no longer rising bay door. Clint nocked another arrow and sent it blazing into the bomb strapped to the man's chest.

The resultant explosion tore a huge hole in the bay door, revealing the charred remains of some of the employees and, behind them, the collapsed forms of their still alive companions. In less than a second, Clint had nocked yet another arrow and sent it flying through the hole in the door and straight into the bomb on one of the men on the ground.

Her adrenaline still pumping, Megan ignored the third explosion and jumped out of the vehicle, landing next to her partner who had already nocked yet another arrow. "Roof?" she asked as he let it fly into yet another bomb.

"Yes. Go," Clint replied as his fingers danced across his bow's controls in order to prepare a new arrowhead. Together, they broke into a sprint towards the stairwell. "When we get to the third floor, you climb the rope first. I'll cover you." He snatched the prepared arrow from his quiver and with a twist of his body immediately sent it flying at the hole in the cargo bay door. As flames burst into life and blocked the hole, he turned back to follow his partner.

"J, wipe my phone and d-detonate it if t-they grab it," Megan stuttered out, holding back the queasy feeling in her gut.

We've killed Stane before and nearly killed Turgenov… Vanko… Whatever the hell his name is, rational-Megan shouted. Why are you being so fucking ridiculous, emotional-Me?

I already told you, you heartless bitch! emotional-Megan bit back. They are innocent people, and you're telling Jarvis to kill them if they touch your phone?

They're "innocent people" who are trying to kill Clint and — oh yeah, let's not forget — were attempting to kill millions of people with Jericho missiles!

That was Sterns! Sterns!

And we don't have the fucking luxury of drawing that line at a moment like this!

As the duo reached the third floor, Megan practically threw at the rope and began to climb. Her arms felt like the blood in their veins had been replaced with liquid fire — like they might explode in a shower of gore at any moment. Go now, or they'll kill Clint! As she reached the halfway point, Clint grabbed the attachment at the end of the rope and thrust it into the waiting socket in his quiver. With a flick of the button, Clint began to wind it back into the quiver at a pace slow enough that he wouldn't overtake Megan.

Finally, with an almighty effort and an uncontrollable moan of agony, Megan pulled herself through the hole in the skylight and threw herself onto the roof to clear the way from Clint. But at that moment, an electric whip crashed down onto the grapple arrow Clint had imbedded into the roof earlier, severing the rope and sending Clint falling back down to the third floor walkway. She looked up and paled at the sight of Vanko, complete with his electric whips. How did he get up here? Sterns mentioned a helicopter, but I didn't hear one. Her eyes glazed over as her senses kicked into overdrive. Vanko is lightly panting, and I can barely hear a helicopter way overhead. There was a roof access to this building from the roof of the next building over. Access to that roof through hatch. He must have been dropped off far enough away that we didn't hear the helicopter but close enough that he could run up here. But how the hell did he know we'd exit through here?

The memory of the security footage flitted through her mind. "Everything's going according to plan… I am not worried, sir. You will think of something." "I need not think of something, for I already have… Here is what you must do…"

Megan's eyes widened but didn't lose their glaze. This guy had such a complex plan that it should've failed, but it didn't. He knew we would come. He knew how to manipulate Bruce into touching him. He presumably touched the S.H.I.E.L.D. tail on Bruce without anyone at Fury getting wind of it. He gave Vanko the perfect amount of time to build a new set of whips. He's already in the perfect position to instantly change Bruce by dropping him. He's perfectly planned for how Clint and I would exit the factory. There can't be that many coincidences. Either he's precognizant, or he can create the perfect plan when he knows the variables. If he's precognizant, then there's nothing I can do to stop him, but if it's the second option…

"Give up, Stark," Ivan growled as he began to stride towards her. "Our Leader has chosen you for glorious purpose, but he has given me leave to incapacitate you in any way that doesn't kill you. Do you really want to lose another limb when you will see the light of our Leader regardless?"

No, that's not the whole truth, Megan noted with narrowed, still glazed eyes. If it were, then he would have cut off my legs the moment I pulled myself through the skylight. Instead, he aimed for Clint's arrow, knowing he would be behind me. He knew I wouldn't have my suit right now, if for no other reason than he could have gotten the information from B-bruce. She grimaced as her love entered her thoughts but quickly returned to the problem at hand. So he was trapping me up here, away from Clint at a time when I wouldn't have my suit. This is the perfect moment to capture me, but he could have made it even easier if he'd had Vanko chop off my legs right away while simultaneously striking the arrow with his other whip. Her eyes darted over to glance at the arrow Ivan had struck earlier. Half of it was still stuck in the roof, but the area of the shaft that had been cut wasn't burnt. Clean cut without cauterization. He didn't want to risk me bleeding out. Everything he's done has been carefully executed to bring me to this moment of vulnerability, except for… Yes! He doesn't know about that! If he did, then he would have sent anyone other than his whip-boy to capture me! I just need a diversion…

"No longer lost in thought, Stark?" Ivan drawled as her eyes finally lost their glaze. He took another step closer to her.

Megan gave him an honest smile. "Mhm. Thanks for giving me a chance to think it through. I can see that your 'Leader' is a great planner. To think that he set this up so perfectly! I'm clearly outmatched. I give up." She raised her hands in surrender and rose to her feet, sliding her right foot away from her left at an angle aiming just to the right of Ivan.

"A wise decision. Turn around and put your hands on your head."

Megan slowly began to bring her hands up to her head, but after only a second of movement, a projectile burst through her left pant leg and burrowed its way into Ivan's chest, sending him flying backwards. Her right hand shot down to her pistol's holster as the still mid-air Ivan flicked his left whip down towards it. She grabbed the pistol, and moments before the whip could tear through her flesh, the projectile she launched at Ivan released a localized EMP burst. By the time the whip struck Megan's arm, it was no longer charged. She grunted from the blow but immediately charged towards Ivan as he landed. The Russian's head crashed into the ground, giving Megan the last bit of time she needed to shoot him in the head from two feet away.

I trust you're okay with this one, emotional-Me? rational-Megan drawled as one of Clint pulled himself through the skylight, having earlier shot another grapple arrow into the ceiling of the factory next to it. Even before he was brainwashed, he was trying to kill us, and you were trying to kill him.

You say that like it makes up for all the innocents we killed getting up here! a still clearly distraught emotional-Megan shouted back.

Fucking impossible to please you.

"What the hell happened up here?" Clint asked as he took in her position over the now dead Ivan.

"Later," she replied. "Sterns is above us in a helicopter with Bruce. If he drops him from that height, he'll transform."

Right you are, Miss Stark. I must admit, you have caught me off guard, the voice of the Leader flitted into her mind and, from the look on his face, she presumed Clint's as well. Dr. Banner did not know about the EMP grenade in your leg, and I, I am ashamed to admit, underestimated your intelligence. He told me what it meant when your eyes looked like that, but I let my pride get the best of me. Play time is over now.

Megan tensed. "J!" she shouted into her communicator. "Where the fuck is my armor?"

A blur that was undoubtedly Bruce fell from the sky and crashed through the skylight the moment that the suitcase armor slammed into the roof in front of her feet. "As it so happens, ma'am, it is at your feet."

Megan laughed as she began to don the suit. "I guess you reviewed that dramatic timing video after all." As her faceplate snapped into place, completing the armor's assembly, she said to Clint, "Leave Hulk to me. I don't know all the types of arrowheads you have, but I seriously doubt you have anything that would make him pause for long."

"Yeah, and there's no way that your mobile suit is more durable than the one you had in NYC," Clint retorted as the unholy roar of the Hulk resounded through the area. "Don't let your feelings for him cloud your judgment, Iron!"

She pointed at the nearby corpse of Ivan. "I kept my cool in the face of nearly impossible odds, Hawkeye, and I knew Hulk was overhead when I did it. My judgment isn't clouded. If you want to attack Hulk as well, then that's your call, but just remember that your genius teammate warned you beforehand that it would be best if you left the fight to me." Without another word, she blasted into the air over the area the employees had been trying to enter the factory mere minutes ago. The moment she was over the masses of employees trying to swarm into the cargo bay, the Hulk burst through the large door as if it were butter. Oddly, as he passed the employees, they purposefully slammed the bombs on their chests in a clear effort to attack him. The rest began to shoot at him with their rifles. "What the hell? J, connect the armor to the communicator's line." After allowing her AI a moment to process her request, she asked, "Director, Hawkeye, do you copy? Something odd is happening with the employees."

"Report, Iron," said the voice of Fury as it filled her helmet. "What's odd?"

"They're actually attacking Hulk. They're denoting their bombs when he's nearby and shooting at him when he's not," she replied as the Hulk released a yell of anger and began to swat away nearby employees. She glanced up. "J, get me a lock on Sterns' helicopter."

"Target acquired, ma'am. The helicopter is flying away due east," Jarvis intoned.

"He's got all the variables," she murmured as her eyes glazed over. "so what is his plan? Why is he flying away from the fight?"

"He knows you could attack him," Clint responded over the communication line, having heard her question. "He's escaping now while Hulk keeps you busy."

"But Hulk isn't keeping me busy," she replied, "and there's no way Sterns can outrun me unless he does. Since Hulk can't chase me down quick enough if I fly after Sterns, the only way he could keep me busy is attacking you, Hawkeye, but he isn't doing that either. The question, then, is why isn't he keeping me busy? There are many things that could have occurred when Hulk landed, but primary among them are these two scenarios: 1) Sterns retains complete control over Hulk, even while he's transformed. 2) Sterns loses control over him because he's transformed. If the first scenario had been the case, then Hulk would be attacking one of us, not the employees. If the second scenario is true, then it's plausible that Sterns is leaving in order to get away from him, and he's using the employees to buy himself time. The balance of probability, in light of all the evidence, is that the second scenario is what's occurring now. He isn't distracting me because he's not currently under Sterns' control. Hawkeye, stay out of sight and don't attack Hulk, and he likely won't attack you. I'm going after Sterns." Without another word, she twisted in the air to face the small, highlighted helicopter on her HUD and burst into motion towards it.

"That's really well thought out and all, Iron, but even you acknowledged there's a chance Hulk could attack me, and while I'm willing to tackle him together with you, I'll be pushing up daises in minutes if I do it alone."

"Hawkeye, think about it. Do you want me to stay with you just in case the low possibility event you being attacked occurs, or do you want me to catch the evil genius who has a high probability of continuing to brainwash people by touching them?"

"Touché," Clint replied. "Director, do you want him dead or alive?"

"What's your opinion, Iron, since you're on a roll," Fury quipped back into the communication line.

"Honestly, the waters are a lot murkier there," she replied after a moment of thought. "If we take him alive, then the likeliest scenario is that after Hulk changes back to normal, we'll have him and whoever else this guy has brainwashed attempting to free him from wherever we imprison him. There's a chance that we could hide him well enough that they wouldn't know where to find him, but Sterns has already demonstrated distance telepathy. Who knows what the limit on its distance is? Alternatively, we could kill him in order to avoid those scenarios, but we would risk the effects of his brainwashing not going away when he dies, at which point it could be impossible to tell whether someone is still following orders he left them before he died. What we need is a test…" Inspiration struck her. "And I have one! It's not fool proof, but it's the best I think we're going to get. Director, where is the agent who was tailing Hulk earlier? They were almost certainly brainwashed by Sterns."

"I presumed the same after I watched the video you sent me earlier," Fury replied. "We've already taken her into custody."

She was quickly closing the distance between herself and the fleeing helicopter. "Good. Is she near you?"

"Yes."

"Then make your way to her. You're going to want to watch her behavior closely. We can perform the test when Hulk changes back to normal." Megan slammed into the side of the helicopter.

Clint jumped in. "What on earth are you planning, Iron?"

"Trust me, Hawkeye," she simply replied before released a repulsor blast into the lock on the side hatch and ripped it open to reveal a wide eyed Sterns. He threw his hands towards her and immediately everything that wasn't attached to the helicopter itself flew towards her. None of it was even remotely dangerous, however, and the unfazed Iron Woman snatched the mutated menace and dragged him out of the vehicle before the pilot could react. Safely out of the helicopter, she proceeded to choke the Leader until he fainted from a lack of oxygen. "I have Sterns, and I've knocked him out for the moment. Has Hulk changed back yet?"

"No," Clint replied, "but he has killed all of the employees. Thankfully, he's left me alone."

Megan faltered for a moment upon hearing the report of Bruce's carnage but maintained her grip on Sterns. He killed everyone? She shuddered. She knew that they had been attacking him and that most had likely killed themselves, but it was still difficult for her to hear. Please let this test work. I don't think my psyche can take any more battery today.

"There we go. He's changing back," Clint said, interrupting her thoughts.

"Then here goes nothing."


"Uuuuuggh," Bruce groaned as he came to. "Where am I?" He froze as realization struck. "I'm… I'm moving myself again! Is he finally out of my head?"

"That's what we need to find out, Hulk," the still armored Megan replied from nearby.

Bruce's head snapped to face her. "Meg! Oh thank god I didn't hurt you!" His eyes locked onto the person she was holding, and he felt his anger flare to life. She was holding with her left hand the still very much alive, and now conscious, Leader.

"Hulk, focus!" she sharply said, bringing Bruce's attention back to her. "I need you to do exactly what I say, okay? Can you do that for me?"

"Of course," he answered without hesitation. "What do you need me to do?"

"There's a pistol at your feet. Pick it up, then walk over to me." Although he was confused by what was going on, Bruce slowly retrieved the pistol from the sandy ground, treating it like it were a wild animal, and made his way to Megan's side. "Good," she said. "Now put the pistol against Sterns' head."

Bruce shakily lifted the weapon as instructed. "Meg, you know I… I have a difficult time around these things after… after that incident."

"I know, Bruce," she softly replied, using his given name rather than his codename, "but you have to be the one to do this. I promise I'll stop bugging you about not needing to brush your hair in the morning."

Her joke got its intended effect. The pistol's wobbliness lessened dramatically as he quipped back, "You shouldn't make promises you can't keep."

"True. I mean, your hair looks fine even now, and you just got done going on a rampage. It's absolutely, one hundred percent ridiculous. Now, are you ready for this?"

Bruce took in a deep breath and steeled himself. "Yes."

"Kill him." Bruce didn't hesitate for an instant. He squeezed the trigger and sent a bullet crashing through the Leader's skull and the out the back into the sandy ground in a flurry of red gore. Megan released the breath she'd been holding and asked, "What's the word, Director?"

"She's no longer trying the kill everyone in sight."

"Excellent," Megan cheerfully responded as her faceplate flipped up. "Right then, I am so done with this fucking mission. Do I need to do the debrief right now, or can it wait until tomorrow? I'm wiped."

"Wait, wait, wait," Bruce said, confusion etched in his features. "Would you mind explaining what the point of all that was? Why was I the one that had to kill Sterns?"

"It had to be you for my test to work. When you left the house earlier, I reported what happened to the Director, and he assigned a tail to you, who Sterns subsequently brainwashed. With her and Sterns detained and conscious, we just had to watch how they reacted to what I was telling you to do. The weight of the probability indicated earlier while you were hulked out that you were, at least temporarily, free of Sterns' brainwashing. The first part of the test was whether you would listen to me and kill Sterns. If you were still brainwashed, you wouldn't have killed him unless he told you to do so. The second part of the test was watching the S.H.I.E.L.D. agent's behavior before and after you killed Sterns. She was going ballistic beforehand, trying to break free while yelling and screaming about 'saving her Leader,' but afterwards, she stopped going bananas. If Sterns' brainwashing effect hadn't disappeared when he died, then she wouldn't have done that unless he told her to do so beforehand. So basically, unless Sterns decided to let himself be killed in order to create sleeper agents, we now know that you hulking out broke his control over you and that killing him broke his control over the other person from S.H.I.E.L.D. he brainwashed. It's not a foolproof test, but at least we know the exact possibilities at this point, and the bastard can't mind control anyone else at this point."

Bruce was staring at her, exasperation evident on his face, by the time she finished. "Great. So I'm still technically not in the clear."

"Let's be honest, Bruce," Megan replied, giving him a look. "You were never 'in the clear' with S.H.I.E.L.D., so really, nothing's changed for them. The good news is that they aren't going to be watching you any more than they already were."

"Better than nothing," he replied before he released a sigh. "Can we go home now? Riding passenger in my own body has left me with a hell of a headache."

Megan laughed. "I'm just as ready to go home as you. Oh, and sorry in advance, but I'm flying us back. Clint is taking the VTOL to drop of this guy's corpse at the New Mexico S.H.I.E.L.D. site."

"Speak of the devil, and he shall appear," Clint said over Megan's communication line as the sound of an approaching VTOL filled the air.

"You're the devil are you?" she replied, unable to hold back a grin. "Well that explains a lot. Today was grueling." She gave Bruce a lopsided grin. "He had me climbing up and down ropes! Truly horrendous, making me do such a thing!"

"Torture is my specialty, madam," the sharpshooter replied as the vehicle began its decent to her and Bruce's position. "You did all right, rookie."

"Ah, I did 'all right,' did I? Well I suppose I should give credit where credit is due. You're a good teacher, Obi-Wan. I'll do my best to not betray you by turning to the dark side of the Force." She caught Bruce's look of confusion in the corner of her eye. "Remember what I told you earlier? How I was going to be learning how to be 'sneaky'? Yeah. That."

Bruce turned to face the VTOL as it landed and the rear hatch opened to reveal Clint waiting with a body bag. "Thank you, Meg. For clearing my name as much as you could."

Megan quirked an eyebrow. "You don't need to thank me, Bruce. I mean, being a superheroine is now one of my jobs."

"'Superhero?'" Clint laughingly asked as he made his way to the fallen corpse of the Leader. "I wasn't aware that being an Agent made me a superhero. I should ask for a raise."

"They don't pay me to do this, Clint," Megan replied.

"Really?" Clint said as he finished zipping up the body bag. "I have to admit, that just made my opinion of you skyrocket exponentially. And that's saying something, since I already like you." He turned to face her and locked his blue eyes with her own. They stayed that way for a moment, both of them just watching the other with a serious gaze, until Clint finally stuck out his hand. "Iron Woman, it was a pleasure working with you."

"Same, Hawkeye," she replied as she shook his proffered hand. "Permission to go home and sleep, Director?" she asked as she released Clint's hand and broke eye contact with him, her voice radiating tiredness.

"Granted, Stark. You did good work today," Fury responded. "Agent Barton," he continued, "After you hand Sterns over to the team waiting at Roswell, I need you to meet Agent Coulson in Puente Antiguo. Fredericks will be flying you over once he's refueled the VTOL. Agent Stark, you will join him there tomorrow by 1700 hours; call Agent Coulson for coordinates. Understood, you two?"

"Yes, sir," Megan and Clint replied in unison.

"Well, at least the weary get some rest," Bruce commented with a weak grin as Megan walked over to him and secured her arms around his waist

She gave him a smile in return. "Jarvis, drive the Audi home, please. We'll see you there." And with that said, she burst into the air in the direction of Malibu, California with Bruce clutched in her arms.


Saturday, May 29th, 2004 05:11p, MST | S.H.I.E.L.D. Secret Base, Roswell, New Mexico

"See you in a bit, Fredericks," Clint told his pilot as the rear hatch of the VTOL lowered itself down to the ground, forming a ramp.

"Of course, sir," the pilot answered as the team of scientists who had been awaiting his arrival began to wheel a gurney up the ramp, stopping by the sharpshooter's side.

"Basil Sandhurst," a scientists with a shaven head said in greeting as he saluted Clint. "We'll take him from here, Agent Barton. I've been asked to inform you that your arrow cache is currently in room 114, which is near loading bay 01."

Clint gave him a nod of acknowledgment before replying, "He's all yours," and heading off in the direction the scientist had indicated.

Once the sharpshooter had left, Basil turned to follow his team, who had already loaded the corpse of Samuel Sterns onto the gurney and begun wheeling him off to their lab. Let's see what secrets we can learn from you, 'Leader.'