Chapter Fourteen
Berlin – Marzahn Plattenbauten
They were here to meet a man named Oskar Lehmann. The name had been in Fury's briefing, but Steve knew nothing else about him. As it was explained to him, this was primarily Romanoff's area of expertise and he was along as muscle or the show of muscle in the best-case scenario. He got it, really he did. He was the new guy and this whole spy business wasn't something he was used to. Romanoff had certainly emphasized that to him quite clearly on the way over here. He would stay in the background and let her take the lead if that's what everyone wanted him to do. He'd have her back though, he though, that was something that wasn't negotiable. If they were going to be working together she needed to trust him, to know he'd be there.
They stood for a moment in front of the crude metal door that seemed to have been wedged into the concrete wall with the edges sealed with some sort of industrial foam. Once they made their way beyond the door, Steve felt like he was entering a different world. A large man in a cheap leather jacket with slicked back rather greasy hair motioned for them to follow as he began leading them down a series of wide hallways. He didn't even glance back to see if they were following, as if indifferent about everything not just them. Strings of white lights had been stapled to the concrete walls and provided the only illumination. More then half of the lights were out so they were constantly moving in and out of the darkness. Occasionally a metal door would be open on one side or the other. Steve could make out various activities, most he assumed were illegal, going on the among the huddle groups in the small rooms. There was an ever-present throbbing beat that seemed to get louder as they continued to move deeper into the building. It was low in tone and seemed to vibrate through Steve's bones, as they got closer.
While his head seemed to be on a swivel trying to take everything in, Natasha remained cool, almost as if she were uncaring about their surroundings. This was a misnomer; of course, she cataloged everything as they continued deeper into the structure. Having Rogers at her back eased some of her concerns, but she still wasn't sure how much she would count on him if the situation turned sideways. The Red Room training was still there and made trusting anyone else to have her back difficult for Natasha. Clint had been the first and so far only one she'd come to really trust, but she was trying to give Rogers the benefit of the doubt. She just hoped this mission didn't put that to the test.
Boris, the man that was leading them through maze inside the building, descended down three steps and rapped hard against another makeshift steel door. Another small hatch opened and suddenly the hallway was filled with a deafening wave of sound. Steve flinched involuntarily, wondering what in God's name that racket was. The hatch slid shut and then the door open, only making it louder. Natasha glanced back at him, noticed his reaction and gave a small smile, before nodding her head for him to follow her inside. Two rough looking, young men stood on either side of the door as the three of them passed through. As Steve looked into the room, he was greeted by what looked like one huge mass of humanity writhing in the darkness. Short bursts of white light would flash over everything.
Suddenly Steve realized what this was. They were dancing or what he guessed passed for dancing now. The throbbing beat that had been with them as they descended into the building was music. The beat was layered with other sounds, although Steve couldn't identify any of them as coming from instruments, or at least any instruments he'd heard before. As they continued, making their way through the crowd he began to recognize some familiar elements; the variation on the 4/4 time signatures and the sound of a bass reinforcing what he assumed was a drum. It was music; he got that, just more soulless and machine-like than he had ever heard. The dancing, well, he could remember what older people had said about the jitterbug in his day, so he would keep his opinion to himself.
Boris led them through another set of doors off from the main room and decibel level slowly lowered to an almost tolerable level. They finally reached their destination. It was another large, rectangular room, the concrete walls covered with cheap tapestries and low, plush couches dotted the open area. There was a bar running along one wall with several customers lined up in front of it. Partitions had been erected to divide the area against the back and side walls, making what he guessed were private rooms. Steve glanced over the assorted people in the room, sizing them up. He didn't spot anyone that looked like the person they were there to see, but he waited for Natasha to make the first move. It was her show, so he would just do his part. As they slowly moved inside, Steve realized what this was. The dance floor and now this bar were the parking garages for the apartments upstairs that had been repurposed for their current incarnation. That explained all the concrete and the lack of lightening.
Natasha moved through the room effortlessly, as if she owned the place, glancing around the main room and moving towards what must be private rooms. Thick, heavy beaded curtains hung in front of all of them. Natasha moved down the line and then pushed back the beads to a rather sizeable private room. A large man sat in the center of a rather plush oval couch that took up the entire room. On either side of him were young girls, most likely teenagers, Steve would guess. Also in the room were five guards, all in cheap suits and carrying weapons that distorted the line of their suit jackets.
"So the Turkish whore house decor," Natasha said, gesturing around them. "Did you pick it or did it come that way?"
The men tensed for a moment and Steve did as well. The man in charge, Oskar Lehmann Steve assumed, just stared at Natasha for a moment and then started to laugh.
"The mouth on this one,' he laughed. "She never changes."
The other men seemed to relax.
"Why change perfection?' Natasha offered with a smirk.
"Can't argue that,' he replied. "You're looking good, Red. Things must be treating you right?"
"Always,' Natasha stated.
"Who is this you brought with you?' The man asked, finally looking at Steve. "He's ex-military by the way he stands."
"He's here to help make sure everything goes smoothly,' Natasha offered.
"He's a big one."
"Yes, he is."" Natasha replied, never even glancing at Steve. "So can we get down to business or not?"
The man looked over Steve again before answering.
"I don't like the new guy, Red,' he said. "Don't like new people in general, but especially in business. Send him away."
"I'll vouch for him,' Natasha offered.
"Yeah, I know, but the temperature has been rising around here lately,' the man said. "There's a lot of heat coming from all sides, so I've got to be careful. You I know, him, not so much. You want to do business, he takes a walk or no deal."
Natasha started to protest, but the man cut her off with a smile.
"Don't worry,' he said. "He's with you, so he's safe. I'll set him up with one of the girls, while we talk. She'll take real good care of him. Won't you, Mila?"
"Yes, yes, of course,' one of the young girls immediately said.
Natasha was about to protest, but Steve spoke up for the first time.
"I'm not leaving her alone with all of you,' he said, gesturing towards the guards. "I don't like the odds and I can't leave with them staying."
Natasha turned and glared at Steve, but he kept his eyes on Oskar. It was her mission, but if he was supposed to be muscle, he knew no muscle would leave a client alone with this big a disadvantage. "I leave, they leave."
He took note of the other men starting to stand, but kept his eyes on Oskar meeting his gaze. The tension was thick. One of the other men moved to put his hand on Steve. He stopped him, catching his wrist before he touched him. A simple twist and the man was on his knees. Steve never took his eyes off Oskar. Mila, the young girl that had been sent over to Steve stood next to him, nervously looking from him to Oskar.
"I believe he would take on all five of my boys, wouldn't he?" Oskar asked Natasha.
"Yeah, he would,' she replied. "And so would I, but then we wouldn't be doing any business. So do you want to fight or make money?"
Oskar nodded and then turned and waved his men to exit. Steve released the one man and took a step back. They other four brushed against him hard as they walked out. Steve didn't react, but once they were gone and it was just Natasha and Oskar he seemed to relax. He felt Mila's hands on his arm, almost beseeching him to leave. He glanced at her and then turned to Natasha
"I guess I'll just wait at the bar or something," he offered. "Wanted to make sure I earned my money, ma'am. Can't be too careful, can you? I'm sure Mila and I will be fine."
Natasha gave him a questioning look, but didn't say anything. He nodded to her, hoping she would go with his play. Times might have changed, a lot, but Steve still recognized when someone was afraid and the young girl, Mila fit that description. If he protested or refused, the deal would be off. They'd probably have to fight their way out of the building. Even if they made it out, they wouldn't be the only ones that paid for it. Mila would mostly likely be punished, severely. It was better for everyone if he went with her. Giving a small smile, he held out his hand to the young girl. She tentatively accepted it and then with another glance at Oskar and Natasha, Steve left out of the room.
Natasha wasn't sure what to make of what just happened. Had Rogers really just gone off with a teenage prostitute? It was the right play, but really, Mr. All-American, apple pie, Fourth of July and a prostitute? What the hell? She watched him walk across the room as the heavy beads fell back into place and questions swirled inside her head. She did notice he got another ma'am in before he left. Questions for later. Natasha turned back to the matter at hand.
"So can we talk business now?" She said.
Malibu
The latest model of the Iron Men stood in front of Tony. Along the far wall were seven others he'd created. Since returning from New York, he needed to keep himself busy to keep his mind off of what he'd seen. Throwing himself into updating his armor seemed like a perfect solution. The problem was as soon as he completely one, a new idea would come to him and instead of just incorporating it into the ones already built, he would begin a new model and then another new model and another.
The nightmares had slowed, thankfully. Most nights he could get four or five hours of sleep without waking up screaming or in a cold sweat. He knew Pepper was concerned, but he didn't want to talk about it. How could he explain something she hadn't seen, without worrying her even more? How could he explain that there was something out there, he wasn't even sure what, that scared him more than he'd ever been scared in his life. It wasn't anything tangible; it was just a feeling, an overwhelming sense of dread that something was coming, something that he wouldn't be able to stop. How do you tell someone you love that you fear that everyone is going to die and there is nothing you can do about it?
The simple answer is you don't.
You throw yourself into what you know, building, inventing, trying to keep you mind off what might be out there. You look over the specs for the new engines for the SHIELD helicarriers and tinker with the designs. You spend hour after hour in the basement lab coming up with new and better suits. You try and support Pepper at Stark Industries without actually going into the building. You go over the plans for the reconstruction of your tower in New York all to keep from thinking about what might be out there coming this way.
Pictures of the tower in New York catch his eye and the signal letter A on top draws Tony's attention. He hasn't seen any of the others since his quick trip to Washington to visit Rogers. He finds himself thinking about all of them more and more, that is when he isn't actively trying not to think about what's out there. Banner's safely back in New York at the tower, Rogers is still in Washington, Romanoff and Barton are God knows where and Thor is, well, him knows where. Earth's mightiest heroes the papers had called them, the Avengers.
As much as Tony had always preferred working alone, he had to admit to himself he liked working with the others. He'd spent most of his life with few friends and even few peers. In New York it had felt different for the first time. The Avengers were peers, friends even. They hadn't even spent that much time together, yet Tony felt a bond with the others he'd never felt with anyone else. They were people like him, really. Maybe that was something he should think about working on, well, after he finished this new suit that is.
Berlin – Later
Natasha finished up her negotiations with Oskar and stepped through the heavy beads. She didn't see Rogers anywhere and asked one of the guards that were standing nearby. He pointed to another private room directly in line of sight to the one Natasha had just exited. Now her curiosity was peaked so she made her way across the room. Pausing in front of the private room, she wondered what she was going to see once she pushed the beads aside. With a smile she did just that. What she saw wasn't what she expected.
The girl, Mila was crying and Rogers was comforting her. A bottle of Silver Skull Vodka, an okay German brand in Natasha's opinion sat on the table. Natasha let the heavy beads fall back into place. Mila seemed surprised or frightened or probably both at the sight of Natasha. She flinched back as Natasha took a step into the room, desperately trying to wipe her tears away and fix her heavy makeup at the same time. Steve gently put his hand on her shoulder.
"She's okay,' he said. "It's okay."
Mila gave him a small, sad smile.
"No, it's not, but thank you,' she softly replied. She quickly moved passed Natasha and out of the room. Steve watched her go and then sat back with a heavy sigh. Natasha picked up the bottle and poured two rather large shots for both of them. She pushed one glass towards Steve.
"I'm going to have a shitload of questions for you once we get out of here,' she said. "But the deal is done, so Nostrovia!"
Berlin – The Weinmeister Hotel – Later
They made it back to their hotel room and Natasha placed a video call to Fury. Steve was mostly quiet as Natasha explained the details about the meeting and the deal. Fury had some questions about the transfer of the cash and the weapons.
"Oskar has a warehouse outside of Dresden,' Steve abruptly spoke up for the first time. "That's where he keeps all of his weapons. It's probably heavily guarded but STRIKE team shouldn't have too much trouble taking it down."
Natasha turned and gave him a look.
"That's interesting, Cap, but how exactly did you come by this information?" Fury asked. "You were supposed to be the muscle on this one."
"Oskar apparently likes to brag and one of the girls in the club was listening,' he explained.
"Mila?" Natasha asked.
"Yeah." He nodded.
"Are you sure you can believe her?" Fury asked. "She does work for the man."
"She doesn't work for him, he owns her,' Steve replied. "She wants out. She wants to go back home and I said I'd help her do that."
"Did she give you the address of this warehouse?"
Steve gave the general location Mila had told him. Fury nodded at this.
"I'm sending a team there now,' he replied. "As far as helping this girl get away from Oskar, you have to consider the big picture, Cap. We can't have anything spooking Oskar until we're ready to take him down. Her coming up missing is likely to do that."
"I gave her my word,' Steve stated.
"I understand," Fury replied. "And I'm sure you'll be able to keep it, but we have to keep the big picture in mind. We take out Oskar and his whole organization first and then we can deal with this."
Steve didn't reply, just sat looking at Fury on the screen. Natasha and Fury went over a few more details before the call ended. She glanced at Steve but he was looking down at his hands. She got up and moved over to the hotel room bar and took out two small bottles of vodka. She walked over and held one out to Steve.
"It was a good night, Rogers, don't dwell on what you can't change."
He looked at her and then the bottle she was holding out to him. He shook his head now and sat back on the couch. He brought his arm up and laid it across his eyes as he sat there. Natasha wasn't sure what to say to him, so she didn't say anything at all. She walked back over to the bar and took out a large tumbler. She dropped a few ice cubes into the glass and the poured both small bottle of vodka into it. She took a long swallow of the drink. She heard him move behind her and turned. He was standing over the weapons that had been assigned them for this mission. Natasha watched him reached down and pick up one of the handguns. He checked the clip and then slipped it inside the waist of his pants.
"What are you doing?" She asked.
"Going back,' he replied, grabbing his coat and slipping it on.
"You heard Fury, think of the big picture, Rogers."
"I'm trying to, but …" He started to say.
"But what?" She asked.
"I gave my word to her, Romanoff,' he answered.
"I know, but that's not what we're here to do," she countered. 'We can't risk everything for her. I'm sorry, but there's more at stake here."
"Mila, her name is Mila,' he replied.
"I know her name,' Natasha said, her voice brittle, as she glared at him.
"You made the deal and Fury is sending a team to Dresden,' Steve explained. "I get it, that's the big picture. The thing is that out there right now is a young girl being held against her will and she's frightened. I gave her my word. She's counting on me. She trusted me to keep my word. I can't turn my back on her. I'm sorry."
He started for the door, expecting her to try had stop him, but she didn't. He kept moving down the hall towards the elevator. He pressed the button and stood watching the numbers as the elevator rose towards his floor. It seemed to take forever, but finally the doors opened and he stepped inside. Head down, he pressed the button for the lobby and the doors started to close. At the last minute a small hand slipped between the doors and stopped them. Steve looked up as they opened to see Natasha standing there.
"If you're going to save her, the least I can do is have your back,' she said, as she stepped into elevator and pressed the button for the lobby again. "We're partners after all."
Steve couldn't help smiling as the doors closed and then started down.
"Thank you,' he said.
"Yeah, don't thank me yet," Natasha replied, not looking at him. "By the way I'm not doing this for you, Rogers. I just think if someone promises to save a young girl, he should keep his promise. Not everyone does."
Washington, DC – Two days later.
Fury was not happy and he let Steve and Natasha know it. The mission had been a success, but they had jeopardized it all by going against his orders. Steve took all the blame, but Fury still wasn't happy. Two and a half hours later they finally exited his office.
"I should have known from the start you were going to be trouble, Rogers,' Natasha said as they walked down the hallway. He looked at her and saw the small smile on her lips.
"Back at you, Romanoff."
She laughed and then turned down one of the side halls without looking back. Steve watched her go and then shook his head and kept heading for the elevator. He just wanted to get home and relax.
Washington DC – Steve's apartment – Later
Steve opened the door and quickly took a step back as Friday appeared out of nowhere.
"Welcome home, Steve,' she said.
"Um, ah, thank you, Friday,' Steve managed to reply. "It's nice to be home."
He closed the door and moved over to sit down on the couch. Friday followed him and sat down next to him.
"How was your mission?" She asked.
"Good, good, everything worked out,' he replied.
"You were not injured, were you?" Friday asked.
"No, I made it through just fine."
"I am glad to hear that Steve,' Friday explained. "I would dislike you having to go on your date later tonight if you are injured."
"Thank you for your concern, Friday,' Steve replied. He paused for a second and then looked at Friday. "My what later tonight?"
"Your date."