AN: This chapter contains some violence as well as a brief scene of torture.
Remembrance of Things Past
The sequel to "The Animal Inside" and "The Dog Days are Over"
Part Twenty-One: Weapons of Mass Destruction
Clint grimaces in the midmorning light of Galisteo, New Mexico, still feeling the effects of the entire bottle of whiskey that he had consumed the day before. Tony had found him lying flat on the roof of the tower a few of hours after Natasha had left, the empty whiskey bottle balanced on his forehead. He knows that Tony had said something, something about circuses, before leading him back to his room, but Clint cannot recall exactly what. His next clear memory is of earlier that morning when Jarvis had woken him to inform him of the meeting in the conference room.
Clint remembers the way that Natasha had looked at Loki when she walked into the room, the caution always heavy in her gaze now gone, her expression instead effervescent. She had never looked at Clint that way, only with suspicion and hesitation and then with gratitude and trust.
You're the most important person in the world to me, she had said.
Someday, you'll find somebody who deserves you.
Sighing, Clint closes the door to his SUV and crosses the street to the new building that Jane Foster had rented. He does not know if he will ever stop loving Natasha, but she had made her choice and he will move on.
Somehow, he will move on.
Clint opens the door to the building and walks down the hall to the large room beyond. Tables with computers and other gear, along with enormous white boards bearing calculations that make Clint's head spin, form a massive rectangle in the center of the room. In the middle of the rectangle, Clint sees someone move.
"Ms. Foster?" he says.
No one responds, so Clint starts around the room, looking for a way into the rectangle. He passes by one of the whiteboards and then, over the tops of the computers on the next table, he has his first clear view into the middle.
The woman before him is not Jane Foster. She has long brunette hair, full lips, and a body like one of those 1940s pin-up girls that Tony teases Steve with. Clint sees that her eyes are closed and tiny white headphones pump music into her ears that Clint can hear from five feet away.
Led Zeppelin. "Rock and Roll."
Ducking under the table, Clint watches as the woman dances. She starts to sing along, and Clint raises a brow at how well her husky voice wails along with Plant. She spins in a circle, whipping her hair around, and Clint feels a smile tug at the corners of his lips.
He lets himself watch her for a verse, her energy soothing his frazzled nerves, and then he starts forward. He could wait until she finishes, he knows, but Clint also knows that would be creepy, him standing there without her knowledge, watching her dance. "Ma'am?" he says, but she does not hear him, so he reaches out and braces himself, knowing he is about to scare the absolute shit out of this woman.
When he touches her arm, she shrieks and opens her eyes, her iPod falling from her hand. Right arm darting out, Clint catches the iPod in midair. Eyes wide, the woman looks from him to the iPod and then says, "Holy shit, that was awesome."
He grins now and returns the iPod to her. She removes the headphones from her ears, and he says, "I'm sorry I scared you."
"No. No, it's okay." She flutters a hand over her chest, and Clint tries hard not to stare. "The elevated heart rate is good. It's like exercise, you know, only without the sweating." He quirks a brow, and she shrugs. "Positive spin, dude. You took ten years off my life." Huffing out another breath, she slips her iPod into the back pocket of her jeans and then thrusts a hand out toward him. "I'm Darcy," she says. "How can I help you?"
Clint shakes her hand. "Clint. I'm looking for Jane Foster."
Darcy narrows her eyes at him. "Why?"
"I work for S.H.I.E.L.D. We need her to come in on a consultation."
She purses her lips, her eyes still narrowed in suspicion. "You're not going to take my iPod again, are you?"
Clint suppresses the grin that threatens to form. "No," he says. "Though I may borrow it for the plane ride back. I love Zeppelin."
Darcy eyes him for another moment. Then she says, "As you should," before turning toward the back of the room and bellowing, "Jane!"
A few second pass and then a door at the back of the room opens. Jane pops her head out, irritation clear on her face. "Darcy, what—" Jane stops as she sees Clint. "Can I help you?" she asks, as suspicious as Darcy was before.
"My name's Clint Barton," he says. "I work for S.H.I.E.L.D. We need you to come to New York."
Jane steps out of the back room, a notebook clutched in her hands. She sighs once and says, "You people are really persistent. I already told the other man that I—"
Clint stills. "What other man?"
"The tall one," Darcy says. "Weird accent. He was kind of a dick." Glancing at Jane, she says, "What was his name?"
Jane answers. "Victor. Victor von Doom."
Did you even bother to watch the footage from Stark?
Can you stand in the middle of a giant fireball and not die?
Body tense, Clint takes a step toward Jane. "When was he here?" he asks.
"About an hour ago," she says. "Why?"
Cursing, Clint reaches into his pocket for his phone and then he calls Transport. "Prep the plane," he says. "Now. We're coming in. Doom is somewhere in town." Returning the phone to his pocket, he slides his gun from his shoulder holster and turns to Jane. "We need to leave," he says. "You're both in danger."
"Danger?" Jane frowns as she steps through a small gap between two whiteboards. "From whom?"
Clint ducks back under the table with the computers and moves toward the hallway. "From Doom," he says. "He kidnapped my partner, tortured her. He nearly blew up Thor's brother—"
He hears Jane draw in a breath. "Thor? Is he here?"
"He's in New York," Clint says, peering down the hall to the door beyond. He sees nothing in the hall but darkness. Turning back to Jane and Darcy, he says, "Doom is dangerous and he's crazy, and if we don't leave now, he will kill us all."
Darcy stares at him, her eyes again wide. Then she turns and grabs Jane's hand, pulling her toward the exit.
"Wait," Jane says. "At least let me grab—"
"No," Darcy says.
When they reach him, they pull their coats from the nearby rack, and Clint starts down the hall, his gun extended. At the exterior door, he pauses and draws in a breath. Then he opens the door and looks outside. The path to his SUV is clear, but at the end of the street two hundred feet away stands Doom, wearing his armor.
His eyes on Doom, Clint says, "Can either of you drive a stick?"
"I can," Darcy says.
Clint pulls his keys from the front pocket of his jeans and passes them to Darcy. "My car's the black SUV across the street. When I say, both of you run for the car. I'll distract him and then follow you."
"You're not driving?" Darcy asks.
"No," Clint says as he opens the door. "I'll be shooting." He looks at Darcy and then strides into the road, his gun raised and aimed at Doom.
In the dark of Omsk, Natasha and Loki stalk Luchkov. He staggers down the street three blocks ahead and one block over with his two bodyguards and one of the young women from the club. At the next intersection, the group turns right, and Natasha points to a side alley. She and Loki begin to traverse the narrow corridors between the buildings, cutting a diagonal swath across the city to Luchkov.
At the junction of two alleys, Natasha halts, the dot on her phone beginning to come their way. She hands the phone to Loki, who places it in his jacket pocket, and then she reaches into her holster for two of her flashbangs. Crouching down, Natasha peers around the wall; she sees Luchkov and the others one block away. Cradling the flashbangs in her cast, she pulls her baton from her boot, unfolds it, and places it against the wall. The woman with Luchkov giggles.
Natasha waits another few seconds and then she throws the flashbangs.
In the smoke and the chaos, Natasha hears the woman shriek and run screaming down the alley. Grabbing her baton, she runs into the smoke and strikes the first guard that she sees in the knee. He falls and she kicks him in the face, and he lays on the ground, still. Luchkov yells. Natasha spins, kicking him into the nearby brick wall, and as he grunts in pain, she drops into a crouch and sweeps the legs out from under the second guard. When he tumbles beside her, she strikes him in the face with the baton, and he, too, falls unconscious.
The smoke dissipates, and Natasha looks up to find Luchkov standing before her, a gun in his hand and pointed at her. "I had hoped he would have killed you already," he says, anger twisting his face. "But I do not deny that I relish the opportunity to kill you myself. Drop the weapon and stand up slowly."
Her eyes on the gun, Natasha places the baton on the ground before her and then stands, her back to Luchkov. She eases the taser disk from beneath her cast.
"Turn around," Luchkov demands. "And get your hands up."
Rolling her eyes, Natasha turns and raises her hands into the air. Luchkov looks at her and then his eyes dart to her right hand.
"What is in your hand?" he asks. He raises the gun higher in the air.
Natasha shrugs. "A penny," she says. "You know, find a penny, pick it up. I could always use more luck."
Luchkov takes a step toward her. "Drop it. Drop it now."
Natasha shrugs again and tosses the disk at his feet. Electricity blooms from the disk, snaking up his legs, and Luchkov begins to twitch from the shocks. Dropping down, Natasha grabs her baton and knocks the gun from his hand. It clatters to the ground as the electricity fades. After a beat, Luchkov slumps back against the wall, unconscious.
Collapsing the baton, Natasha slides it back into her left boot. From the corners of her eyes, she sees Loki stroll towards her. "I do so love watching you work," he says, the wicked grin on his face once more. Her mouth twitches with the start of a smile. He comes to a stop beside her, and they both glance down at Luchkov. A grimace crosses Loki's face, and he says, "Where do you want to take him?"
Natasha considers a moment and then says, "The roof of the club. The music inside will drown him out."
Loki nods and holds out his hand to her. As she clasps it, he reaches down and grabs Luchkov, and then the air crackles, the familiar green light flashes, and they are on the roof of the club. Peering around the roof, Natasha points to a collection of metal pipes in the near corner. "Put him there," she says.
Lifting Luchkov with one hand, Loki carries him to the corner and drops him next to the pipes. Natasha follows, sliding one of the plastic restraints from the back pocket of her jeans. She wraps one loop around Luchkov's right wrist and lifts his arm while Loki raises his left hand. Natasha wraps the restraint around the pipe and secures the second loop to Luchkov's wrist. Pausing for a moment, she looks at him and then she searches his pockets for the tracer.
Standing, Natasha steps back, slipping the tracer into her pocket, and then she and Loki stare at Luchkov again. "How long do you think he'll be unconscious?" Loki asks.
Natasha shrugs. "Most are usually out for ten minutes. But it depends. How drunk did he seem when you talked to him?"
"His face was red and he was sweating."
Natasha grimaces now. She crouches before Luchkov and regards him for a moment before slapping him in the face. He groans, and she slaps him again. His eyelids quiver and then he opens his eyes. A beat passes and he focuses on her; his face flushes in rage. He tries to reach her, but the restraint holds, and he curses his confinement. Then he spots Loki behind her and his eyes widen.
"You," he says, looking at Loki. "You said you were going to kill her."
Natasha turns to Loki and raises a brow. "You told him you were going to kill me?"
Loki smiles at her. "Yes."
Now Natasha turns to Luchkov. "And you believed him?"
Luchkov shifts on the ground and looks away. "He was convincing," he mutters.
Shaking her head, Natasha stands. She waits for Luchkov to look at her, and when he finally does, she says, "You know who I am, and you know what I'll do to you if you don't answer my questions, so I'm only going to ask them once. Do you understand?"
Luchkov looks away. The silence endures for thirty seconds, and then Natasha walks over to his bound wrists and grabs the thumb of his right hand. He eyes her now; a drop of sweat rolls down his face. She stares at him as she says, "Do you know how painful it is to have all of the fingers broken on one hand?"
Luchkov shakes his head.
Natasha waits a moment and then she breaks his thumb.
Luchkov screams, and Natasha sees Loki wave a hand. The air shimmers around them as he casts an illusion. Turning back to Luchkov, she says, "Tell me what you know about Victor von Doom or I'll break another."
"I know nothing," he says through gritted teeth.
"You know he's not interested in guns," Loki says. "At least not in Russia. So what does interest him?"
Again, Luchkov stays silent, and, again, Natasha grabs one of his fingers. As she tightens her grip on his pinky, he says, "Science. He… He worked for many years with Anton Vanko."
Natasha stills at the name. Her first encounter with Tony had come when Anton's son, Ivan, had attempted to defeat Iron Man. She remembers reading the files that S.H.I.E.L.D. had had on Anton, how he had worked with Tony's father on the original Arc Reactor before being deported back to Russia. Natasha glances at Loki. Doom with an Arc Reactor, or even part of one, could be more than disastrous.
"What did they work on?" she asks Luchkov.
He shakes his head. "I do not know. I do not care about science."
"Who would know? Anton's dead. Ivan's dead. Who else would know what they worked on?"
Luchkov shakes his head again. Natasha sighs and tightens her grip on his pinky, but then Loki says, "Someone from the Academy would." Natasha looks at Loki and he continues, "When he said that Doom's interests didn't lie with guns, I countered by saying that Doom had mentioned the Academy to me before. He didn't deny the interest. In fact," he says now, looking down at Luchkov, "that's when he mentioned Anna."
Natasha returns her gaze to Luchkov. She sees him grow pale, and she knows that Loki is right: Anna Volenskaya would know what Doom and Vanko had worked on, would know whether Doom had his own Arc Reactor or something equally as destructive. "Where is she?" she asks.
More sweat begins to bead upon Luchkov's face. Dropping his eyes to the ground, he says, "I don't know."
"Yes, you do," Natasha says. She reaches into her pocket and pulls out Luchkov's phone. Holding it before him, she says, "You've emailed her five times this year. Do you seriously expect me to believe that you have no idea where she is right now?"
Luchkov stays silent, still avoiding her gaze. Natasha sighs again and looks at Loki; she holds out a hand, and he conjures a smile knife. Grabbing the knife, she crouches in front of Luchkov and holds the blade before him.
"Did you know," she says quietly, "that Anna trained me in the Red Room? She was the original Black Widow. She gave the name to me when I turned seventeen." Natasha rotates the knife in the air; she watches the moonlight gleam off the lustrous edge. "Knives were her favorite. She loved the intimacy of the kill at the tip of a knife." Natasha pauses now and places the knife beneath Luchkov's chin. She presses up and forces him to look at her. "She gave me my first one when I was four," she says. "It wasn't any bigger than your thumb, but it was sharp. Like this one." Natasha presses the blade further into his neck; a drop of blood appears at the tip.
He sweats harder now. "She'll kill me if I tell you."
Natasha shakes her head. "You don't know that for sure. Because if you tell me, I'll let you live. And then you can call her and warn her that I'm coming." Luchkov's eyes widen at that. "If you tell her," she says, "she may be merciful. She may even be thankful. But if you don't tell me," and here Natasha applies more pressure to the knife and Luchkov winces and closes his eyes. "If you don't tell me," she continues, "you know that I will kill you, and I'll still find her. But then she won't know that I'm coming. And then she won't be able to kill me. And that's what you want, isn't it? You want me dead? So tell me, Georgi, who else is better equipped to kill me than the woman who made me?"
Luchkov shudders. He opens his eyes, and Natasha sees tears pooling in them, obscuring the dim brown of his irises. She tenses, her grip tight on the knife, but then he says, a tremor in his voice, "Anna is in St. Petersburg. She lives near the Summer Garden."
Natasha looks at him, but his gaze does not waver. After a moment, she nods and pulls the knife away. His eyes fall shut again as she stands. Turning to Loki, she finds him watching her, his face impassive. Handing him the knife, she says, "We're done here."
Loki stares at the knife and then vanishes it before holding out his hand to her. When her hand closes around his own, the air crackles, the light flashes, and they teleport away.
In Galisteo, Clint stands in the street, aims, and fires at Doom. Each bullet strikes the faceplate that Doom wears, but they do not stop him. As he starts down the street, Clint turns to Darcy and Jane and yells, "Go!"
They scramble from the door and across the street to Clint's car. Clint sees purple lightning crackle around Doom's hands, and he shifts his aim, shooting now at the joints, at the neck, at the shoulders, elbows, and knees. One of his bullets penetrates and hits Doom in the right knee, staggering him. As he stumbles, Clint turns and runs for the car, diving into the backseat through the door that Jane has left open for him. He slams the door shut behind him, and Darcy takes off, the tires squealing as they shoot down the street.
"Where am I going?" she yells as she directs the car through the only stoplight in town.
"GPS," Clint says. A small console on the dash brightens. "Directions to Transport, Galisteo."
The GPS begins to guide Darcy away from town. Clint reaches into his pocket, pulls out his phone, and tosses it to Jane. "Call Transport," he says as he turns to the back and pulls his case into the seat beside him. "Tell them Doom is in pursuit and we need intercept."
Jane nods and begins the call. Opening the case, Clint retrieves his bow and quiver of arrows. Then he opens the sunroof. He sees Darcy eye him in the rearview mirror, panic clear on her face. "Just breathe and drive," he says, his voice steady, his eyes calm. "Don't worry about how fast you're going or what I'm doing. Just drive and get us there safely."
Darcy nods. She looks back at the road, and Clint stands and eases his body through the sunroof. He braces himself against the backseat and then faces Doom, who trails them, one hundred yards away, flying through the air and gaining on them with each second.
Clint selects an explosive-tipped arrow, aims, and fires. Doom does not bother to dodge so slight a thing, and the arrow explodes on impact. The blast staggers Doom, and he tumbles through the air for a few seconds before straightening and continuing the pursuit.
Clint pulls out two more arrows and fires the first, a normal one that Doom dodges, and then the second right in the path of Doom's swerve. The arrow strikes Doom in the face, and the tip bursts, acid pouring forth onto the mask. Nothing happens for half a minute, but as Clint selects another arrow, Doom howls and pulls off the faceplate, dropping it to the ground far below.
Prepping the next arrow, Clint sees Doom narrow his eyes, and then rockets fire in his hands and feet and he blasts forward. Clint allows him to draw closer, two hundred feet, one hundred feet away, and then he shoots the arrow. It sails forward and explodes before Doom, sending a cloud of tear gas at him, but Doom dodges and sails high into the air, beyond the reach of Clint's arrows.
Clint collapses his bow and stores it back in the quiver, and then he pulls his gun from his holster and fires at Doom. He strikes the chest plate and takes aim at Doom's face, but before he can fire, he hears Darcy and Jane scream. Turning, he sees a telephone pole a quarter of a mile before them twist from the ground and rise in the air. Ducking down into the car, he shoves the gun back in his holster and says to Jane, "Get in back and close the sunroof." As she scrambles between the seats, he says to Darcy, "Push the seat back as far as you can and then sit forward. I'll slide in behind you."
Through the windshield, Clint watches as the telephone pole comes barreling toward them. With a shaking hand, Darcy slides the seat back. Clint eases behind her and grabs the steering wheel, jerking the car to the right. The pole barrels by them, scraping against the driver's side and dislodging the mirror.
Clint glances in the rearview mirror. He sees the pole swoop through the air and then start toward the car again as Darcy scrambles into the passenger seat. Shifting into fifth gear, Clint slams down on the gas pedal; the car shoots forward, and he reaches for his seatbelt, ordering Darcy and Jane to do the same.
"How long until Transport arrives?" he asks Jane as he pulls his seat forward.
"Two minutes," she says.
Clint nods and pushes down on the gas. Eighty, ninety, one hundred on the mercifully empty road leading from Galisteo, but still the telephone pole gains. Then Clint hears a clang on the roof, and he knows that Doom has landed on the top of the car.
Shifting to neutral, Clint slams on the brakes and twists the car to the left. He hears the screech of metal as Doom slides along the roof. The tires squeal as the SUV begins to skid. Through the window, Clint sees the telephone pole waver and then fall. Shifting into gear again, Clint releases the brake and presses down once more on the gas. Doom topples off the roof, but his rockets fire and he flies alongside the car.
Clint twists the wheel to the left again. The SUV crashes into Doom, but he grabs the handle on Clint's door with his right hand. In his left, Clint sees purple energy bloom. Sliding his gun from his holster, he yells to Darcy, "Roll down the window!" As the window powers down, Clint sees Transport in the distance and he jerks the wheel to the right, slamming on the brakes once more. Doom slides forward until he is level with Clint, and then Clint raises the gun as Doom lifts his hand, and they both fire.
The bullet disintegrates in the energy that strikes Clint in the chest. He starts to gasp for breath as Doom smiles and raises his hand for a second strike, but then Darcy thrusts her arm in front of Clint and fires her taser. The electrodes land on Doom's face, and he screams before twisting and flying away. Clint sees Transport give chase, and he has just enough time to bring the car to a screeching halt before the world around him spins and fades to black.
AN: Thank you for all of the lovely comments left so far! They definitely help to feed the fic-writing beast. :)