Silently, Invisibly
Chapter Twenty-five
Aboard the copter, Clint pulled out his phone, called up a dropbox account, and saved a short text file.
Hawk seeks raven.
He checked it again half an hour later. A line had been added.
Lonely?
He smirked to himself, and added:
Not ATM. Guess who's not dead? His initials are JS and his name rhymes with Wotan Shit.
He hit "save", then "refresh".
! ! where? ?
Clint replied,
Not sure yet but good odds will head for NYC in near future. Want in?
Again the reply was immediate. YES.
He replied, Can I get a pledge from your boss not to break Stark for the duration?
A short delay this time. After about a minute: Boss says for JS he'll give Stark a pass, but don't push your luck.
"Yessss," breathed Clint. Okay, will keep you posted. Cheers, brighteyes.
And after a moment,
Behave, hotshot, I'm old enough to be your mother. Fly well.
He logged off, leaned back and shut his eyes.
"What are you up to?" Sitwell asked quietly.
"Recruiting backup," said Clint.
"Anything I need to know about?"
"Well, if you end up in the boss battle, you might want to assess how likely you are to set off a metal detector."
Sitwell frowned in thought, then his eyebrows shot up. "Christ, Barton, are you crazy?"
"Hey, against Schmidt I'll take what I can get."
"You have an in with—"
"Shh. Walls have ears. Especially walls owned by SHIELD."
"Goddamn."
"Keep in mind that one of us has no problem whatsoever dealing with this particular individual." He glanced over at Banner, apparently asleep in his seat.
"There's that," said Sitwell. "On the other hand, Stark—"
"I think there will be a more attractive target than Stark when the time comes."
Fury spoke over the comm. "Helicarrier in five."
"Roger that," said Clint and Sitwell. Banner stirred in his seat and rubbed a hand over his face. He sat up straighter and put on his glasses.
"Anyone heard from Tony?" Banner asked.
"Not yet," said Sitwell.
They came in for a landing on the Helicarrier; Hill met them on the deck.
"Foster and Selvig are secured, sir," she said to Fury. "No word yet from Stark, but our observers say everything looks quiet around the Tower. Evacuation's complete and we have crews disguised as utility workers allegedly searching for the gas leak, keeping a perimeter."
"Good," said Fury. "Any word on Romanov and Rogers?"
"They're boarding at Gander; the Soldier's still with them and appears cooperative," she said. "So far, so good."
They trooped into the observation room. Clint dropped into a seat at an unmanned console; the agents on either side of him edged away from him slightly. He ignored them. They'd either get over it, or not, and in either case worrying about it wasn't going to do him any good.
"Dr. Banner," said Hill, "we're hoping you can give us some assistance with finding HYDRA."
"Well, I can search for the energy signature from their weapons," Banner said, "but if you still have all those Phase Two arms on board, my detection equipment will be completely useless."
"All Phase Two tech has been relocated," said Fury.
"Then I guess I'd better get to work," said Banner. "I assume that if I find one of your caches, you'll tell me to keep looking?"
"We will. Should be a useful test of your search protocol."
Banner nodded. "It should, at that." He headed off to his lab.
Fury glanced over at Clint. "Would you care to discuss recent events, Agent Barton?"
"In your office, sir?" Clint asked.
"That would be appropriate," said Fury, and jerked his head in that direction. Clint peeled himself out of the chair (comfy; probably excessively so, for purposes of professional alertness) and strolled off to Fury's office. You never knew; there might be coffee.
Fury shut the door behind them and glared at him. "Barton, as you are now aboard a SHIELD installation I expect your full and prompt cooperation, or I may well forget to hand you a parachute when I show you the door. Is that clear?"
"Sir," said Clint.
"Now give me a full and detailed debriefing on everything that's happened since you joined up with Rogers and Romanov."
Clint did so, omitting his communications with sources other than Tasha and Cap. It took some time.
"In your estimation, does Agent Romanov remain loyal to SHIELD?"
Clint managed not to grind his teeth at that. "Yes sir."
"If your opinion were otherwise, would you tell me?"
He looked Fury in the eye. "If my opinion were otherwise, I would either have told you already, or I wouldn't be here. Permission to speak freely, sir?"
"Granted."
"SHIELD is clearly compromised. Although both Agent Romanov and I have sworn loyalty to the organization, that duty is tempered by our responsibility to be sure our orders are legitimate. Otherwise we end up like the Winter Soldier: taking assignments from somebody with no authority to give them."
"Leaving aside the question of how legitimate the FSB's authority over him is to start with. Or the KGB's, before them."
"Yes sir. Bottom line, yes, we're loyal to SHIELD. That doesn't mean we'd launch a nuke at Manhattan if SHIELD told us to. With all due respect."
"Better be careful where you draw that line between independent thinking and insubordination, Barton."
"Coulson told me when he brought me in that he'd tell me when to take the shot, but he'd listen if I said no. That's worked out well for you so far."
"Some might argue that it's because of you that we don't have Coulson any more."
Clint's breath caught in his throat. It took every ounce of self-control he had to keep his voice level. "The damage I did under Loki's control, I did while blindly following orders. To the extent I was able to limit that damage, it was because I was using what little independent thought I had. For example, I did not blow your fucking brains out. Sir."
"So noted, Agent Barton. Dismissed."
Clint decided to go hang out with Banner in the lab. Not that he was particularly fond of the doc, but the taste of SHIELD in his mouth was a little too strong just then.
Banner looked up briefly when he came in, but turned back to his equipment before he said, "Problems with Fury?"
"Nothing I can't handle," said Clint.
Banner continued working in silence for a while. Then, keeping his eyes on his work, he said, "I'll say this once and then I'll shut up about it. I've woken up in the ruins of a building I destroyed. There were bodies. It's easier for me, I think, because I don't have to watch myself do it, and I don't remember afterwards. But if it would help to talk, I'm here."
"I'll keep that in mind," Clint said. The silence stretched out between them for a while, then he made himself add, "Thanks."
Banner nodded without looking up.
Clint sat and watched him for a while longer, until Banner sat back and said, "There. Search underway."
"I'm jonesing for a cup of coffee," said Clint. "You?"
"Sounds good," Banner said. "This'll run by itself. Let's go forage." He glanced sidelong at Clint with the barest ghost of a smile. "Let 'em get all their flinching over with at one time."
Clint sighed. "Yeah."
There was indeed a lot of flinching as the two of them wandered through the more public areas of the carrier. They avoided the observation deck, but both of them paused at the doorway to the bay where the Hulk cage had formerly been installed.
Banner stared into the empty center of the room. Clint looked at the too-shiny area of wall behind the controls, scrubbed and sanitized to gleaming sterility. With an effort, he unclenched his fists, leveled out his breathing. He glanced over at Banner. The scientist's face was as stony as his own.
"So, we done with our own flinching?" Clint asked.
"For now," said Banner. "Think I'll make mine decaf, though."
Clint smiled grimly. "Yeah."
They found coffee, such as it was, in one of the lounges, fortunately unoccupied. They took their cups back to the lab with them. Banner checked his readouts; no results yet.
"Thanks for being willing to help us with this," Clint offered.
"Who's 'us'?" asked Banner.
"I'm wearing my SHIELD hat at the moment," said Clint, "but actually, if I meant 'us' as in 'the Avengers' I don't think I would have said anything. I'd take it as a given."
"Hm," said Banner. "Well, in this case the causes line up neatly. And in fact, I'd have done it as a personal favor to Tony. Or Pepper. Or even Happy. So, no problem."
"Any word on any of the Stark crew?"
"I got an update on Happy while you were in with Fury. He's still unconscious, but stable. They're running tests."
"What hit him? I thought those HYDRA weapons were pretty much disintegrator guns."
"They are. But apparently this one was either a near-miss or a ricochet. Also, he was wearing one of Tony's new uniform jackets. That may have made a difference."
"I notice you don't have one."
"No. Tony felt it might be…imprudent. The material's tough enough that it might actually do damage if I transform while wearing it. It's not very elastic."
Clint winced, picturing it. "Ouch."
One of Banner's monitors went 'ping' softly. He checked it, then keyed his comm. "Director Fury, I have a positive on latitude 32.6208° north, longitude 83.6000° west," he said. "One of yours?"
Apparently Fury said "yes," because Banner replied. "Okay, we'll keep looking."
A few minutes later, the opening riff to "Out Ta Get Me" started playing over the PA system. Loudly. Clint rolled his eyes. Banner just shook his head.
"Shall we?" Clint asked.
"Go ahead. I'll catch up about the time Fury gets through lecturing him about hacking the comms."
By the time Clint got to the observation deck, the Guns N' Roses had been, ahem, jammed. Too bad. Stark was lounging against one of the windows, visor open, talking to Fury with the nonchalant air he used with the paparazzi.
"So far, nothing since the attack this morning. Pepper's fine. Happy's stable, which, frankly, given that he should be completely gone, is pretty encouraging. Oh, except for a frankly laughable DDOS attack on the Stark servers, which is like trying to take this thing down with spitballs. They don't even get close enough to bounce off."
"And what's the current status on your machine?" Fury asked.
"Inoperable," said Stark. "And that's all the detail you're getting in a roomful of people I don't know. No offense, rank and file."
Banner wandered in with a tablet in his hand, nodded absently to Tony, and said to Fury, "Kind of an odd signature here. Last time the satellites passed over this point, nothing. This time, there's a faint signal. Is it yours?"
Fury glanced at the coordinates. "No."
"Can we get more eyes on it?"
Fury nodded to Hill; she took the tablet and began typing on one of the consoles.
"Give it a minute, Dr. Banner," she said. "We're moving a drone into position."
As soon as she'd said the words, Banner's tablet pinged repeatedly. He grabbed it up, looked at the screen and said, "Oh shit."
Alarms began blaring all over the room.
"Sir! We've got an unscheduled launch from…"
"…Tierra del Fuego," Banner finished. "Looks like it's heading into orbit." Schematics appeared on all the screens on the deck and they watched frozen as the blip became three, four, eight, and each of the eight split into dozens of smaller ones.
"Those are tiny. What the hell are they targeting?" Fury asked.
"Comsats," said Stark. "I'm getting back to the Tower before Jarvis can't reach the suit." He closed his faceplate and sprinted for the flight bay.
"Incoming!" said one of the agents on watch. "We got the first few but there are more where they came from!"
The carrier trembled as fighter engines began to warm up.
"Doc," said Clint, "I don't know about you but I'd be happier on the ground. Not much I can do against missiles."
"Same here," said Banner.
"Take the copter and watch Stark's back," said Fury. "I'll send an escort with you."
Clint and Banner took to their heels. Behind them, pale in the sunlit sky, antimissile missiles began flashing outside the windows.