Chapter Twenty Five
"My objections to this plan are more vehement than can be given logical voice to," Thor exclaimed while dragging his thumb across Jane's knuckles. "You willingly place yourself into harm's way when we could pursue other courses of action. Amora can be tricked out of hiding."
"This is the fastest way to rescue Agent Barton," Jane said as calmly and evenly as possible. "I go with Christian for this one afternoon, and he tells us where Barton can be found. You'll be distracting Amora by attacking her base of operations and preventing her from making an outright attack on me. Rescue Clint and then come back for me. We'll be done, dusted, and home in time for Dancing With the Stars."
His expression didn't ease into relaxation. "Stars do not dance."
"You didn't try to stop me from staying in Puente Antiguo when the Destroyer attacked. Don't turn into a Neanderthal now and start telling me what I can and can't do."
Thor blew out a long breath and sagged, lifting her hand to press his lips to her knuckles. "A man who admired you as I admire you could wish your constitution less noble and honorable so he need not worry for your safety."
"Were I less noble and honorable, you wouldn't admire me half as much as you do. Admit it. You like strong chicks who do what they say and say what they mean," Jane intoned while stepping closer for a last intimate moment with him before the quinjet landed.
"Chicks cannot speak, Jane, and therefore are incapable of doing what they say and saying what they mean. They are small and fluffy juvenile chickens."
She couldn't help but chuckle. "Slang term for a woman."
"It's appropriate for someone to refer to you as a juvenile chicken?"
"Yes." When he still looked uncertain and torn, she touched his cheek and continued, "Thor, I'm going to be fine. The best way you can help me right now is to concentrate on getting Clint back safely."
"You are right, of course. How could I admire anyone even half as much as I admire you if they took the path easiest for themselves and allowed another person to suffer while doing nothing? You must be safe."
"I will be. Captain America and his friend won't allow anything to happen." Because she couldn't stand seeing the tortured concern and uncertainty in his eyes, she stood on tiptoe and kissed him, fingers tangling in strands of his golden hair.
Someone cat-called nearby, and given the limited number of personalities aboard the quinjet, she was likely right in assuming the offender was one Anthony Stark.
When she separated her mouth from Thor's, there was a rather giddy smile on her face. "God, one of these days, I'm going to remember how to function in front of you rather than descending into a fit of giggles."
"Don't you worry, Thor," Tony called out. "We'll help you find the key to her chastity belt when this is all done with, and I've got a reinforced bed waiting for the both of you back at Avengers Tower."
Thor was clearly disapproving when he glanced in Tony's direction. "You will not sully Jane's reputation with such lewd talk. What we do behind a closed door is entirely our business and needs no running commentary from you."
"But every time an Avengers team member gets laid, somewhere an angel gets its wings!"
"Lewdness," Thor reminded Tony.
"Duh. She's a beautiful woman."
"Jane is not an object to be lusted after. She is a candle in the long dark of a winter's night. She is an arrow running straight and true and clean. She is not the object placed upon a pedestal but the pedestal itself lifting you from the cold wastes of Hel. Her worth is greater than all the treasure vaults of Asgard. You would do well to treat her with such respect."
Stunned silence.
Tony croaked, "I hate you, and you are not allowed to move into Avengers Tower."
"Because I speak the truth."
"No, because every female in Avengers Tower will be throwing her panties at you."
Jane couldn't rightly say who was chuckling. She was too busy staring up at Thor with abject worship in her eyes. The Warm Fuzzies turned her insides goopy. There was a scene in the live action Casper film where Christina Ricci used the Lazarus machine in an attempt to bring Casper back to life, but opening the door revealed Casper in the shape of a sunny side up egg. That was how Jane felt. She'd thoroughly melted in the face of Thor's impassioned speech.
Her fingers curled around the edges of his breastplate, and she tugged him down for another kiss, because it was either kiss him or start giggling like a maniac again. Fireworks could have exploded in her ears and she wouldn't have noticed or cared. An entire herd of elephants could have flown past, and it wouldn't have mattered.
"See," Tony commented. "She may as well be throwing her panties at him already."
Somehow, she found the fortitude to ease away from the kiss rather than standing there making out in front of the rest of the Avengers. These were his teammates. She couldn't hang all over him in front of his teammates no matter how justified turning herself into a koala would have been given the circumstances. There was something shy about her smile when Thor traced the outline of her cheek.
"I hate to break up the festivities, but we're making our approach," Natasha informed them. "Look sharp."
Jane forced herself to take a step away from Thor and brace herself when the jet started into its descent. Having never been to Seattle, she didn't know the name of the major airport, and neither did it matter. Tasha's comment reminded her what kind of evening she faced, and Jane took a moment to smooth a wrinkle from the sleeve of her plum dress.
As soon as she was turned over into Christian's custody, he would provide Natasha with the coordinates to Barton's location. There was relief in knowing help would soon arrive for Clint, but that didn't make attending a charity function on the arm of her nemesis any easier. If he put one finger out of place, she was going to scream her head off for Captain America and American Sniper. No. No, she had to be stronger than that.
This was their one shot at getting Clint back without going to extreme measures. Extreme measures included involving Loki to use his magic to locate and help defeat Amora. The catch would of course be leniency for his crimes against Midgard. Everyone had practically broken into a chorus of wails at the injustice of having to work with Loki, so it had been categorized as "the absolute last resort."
She couldn't afford to take such a hard line when it came to Loki Odinson. He was Thor's brother. She despised what he'd done to Erik. She despised the number of lives lost because of his actions, but for Thor's sake, she had to try to see Loki from a different angle. Hating him, calling for his head on a silver platter, would only hurt Thor.
The jet finally touched ground, her balance reinforced when Thor slid an arm around her waist to pull her tightly against his solid frame. Iron Man broke off his conversation with American Sniper and headed over to stand next to them. Being impressed with Tony Stark was a given. His reputation as a mechanical engineer was flabbergasting.
"So I was totally lying about you two not being invited to Avengers Tower. Of course you're invited. In fact, I'm signing your cast when all this is over and done with. I'm a huge fan of the Foster Theory regarding the alien use of wormholes to create portals through space and time. Getting to sign your cast would make me squee like a fanboy."
"Thank you?" she said, clearly uncertain about whether she should thank him for being a fan or descend into Geek Mode herself considering who he was. Her expression soured slightly when she looked down at the bright red cast weighing her arm down.
"You'll love Avengers Tower, by the way," he continued. "Top ten floors are devoted to research and development. Our labs are some of the most advanced on the planet."
"It's like you're completing your NFL juice mug collection," Bucky interjected.
"Only for scientists. Good one, Barnes. I should build a trophy case to put them in while I'm at it. Imagine having three of the world's top minds residing under one roof. The implications would be epic."
"I'm one of the world's top minds?" There was no small amount of surprise in her tone.
"You successfully figure out a way to control wormholes and use them as portals onto different planets, and you will be as my goddess. I shall personally bestow upon you the Montgomery Scott Award For Excellence."
Agent Romanoff interrupted their banter when she said, "Look alive. We have visual on Christian Grey. Let's get this over with."
Tension flooded back into the jet when a mechanic whirring sound preceded the ramp being lowered to the tarmac. Jane clenched her fingers into a tight fist upon catching sight of the black Audi waiting outside. Christian leaned against the front fender looking casual. Thor had just called her a candle in the long dark of a winter's night. There was nothing dashing or handsome about Christian in comparison to that.
Natasha suddenly caught hold of her elbow, tearing Jane's attention away from perusing her nemesis. Agent Romanoff and Thor exchanged a long glance. A silent battle of wills ensued, at the end of which the agent escorted her down the ramp without Thor attempting to put a last minute stop to the exchange despite the tension on his expression.
"Darling, it's lovely to see you again," he said upon their approach.
Jane made no move to pull back when he leaned down to kiss her cheek despite the shivers of disgust raking her nerve endings. "You too."
"The coordinates," Natasha reminded. "Let's not make this unpleasant by trying to change the terms of our agreement."
"Because you have fulfilled your end of the bargain." The man reached into an inner jacket pocket and withdrew a slip of paper which was pressed into Natasha's hand.
Natasha opened the paper to read its contents and then looked up, a hard glance boring into the man and her lips tight. "Pray to whatever god you believe in these coordinates are accurate. If they aren't, the consequences will be beyond your imagining."
"They're accurate, Agent Romanoff. Deceit is your forte, not mine."
Jane's stomach tightened and became uncomfortable when Natasha gave her a last lingering glance before reversing her steps back toward the waiting jet. A few breaths were necessary to make her body obey her brain, at which point, she turned her glance up to Christian.
"So there's a charity function we'll be attending tonight, Sweetheart?"
Tasha was going to Hell.
She had just made a deal with the Devil and was going to burn for an eternity. After all, Thor was a god, so handing Jane over to Christian was absolutely the same thing as handing a god's consort over to Satan. Breaking Castiel's wings, stripping him naked, and giving him to Crowley with a red ribbon around his neck wasn't as dastardly as the exchange she'd just made.
"Here lies Natasha Romanoff, destroyer of the innocent, dealer with the devil, who was single-handedly responsible for sullying the consort of the god of thunder. Upon death, she went straight to the hellfire and brimstone Baptist version of the Lake of Fire. May she suffer for millennia." That should be her epitaph and legacy.
By the looks of things, Thor was going to buy her the elevator ticket straight down to Dante's Inferno.
Nausea-she'd been queasy all damn day-cramped her belly, and she finally said, "I don't like it anymore than you do, Thor."
"My anger is not directed toward you. Anthony tells me Clint and you have become lovers. A person doing everything necessary to save their lover is understandable. I hate the situation, not you."
All she could do was acknowledge his comment by inclining her head, attention diverted toward the onboard computers when error codes started flashing across the screens. A few command prompts began diagnostic tests to figure out the cause. She leaned forward and glanced out their windshield. Exterior lights illuminated a small radius around their jet as they whooshed through the inky darkness blanketing the mountains of British Columbia.
The coordinates Christian had provided that afternoon were for the tiny town of Quaquetal deep in the mountains hugging the Canadian border. Barely over two hundred residents called the place home, so it was small enough not to make the town an obvious target but also large enough they wouldn't be able to pinpoint Clint's exact location. They would have to go in by foot and search the town manually with their sensors going haywire.
Discomfort caused her to grimace when her stomach clenched dangerously, but she swallowed the urge to vomit back down and asked, "Stark, how are your long range scanners?"
"Malfunctioning," he responded. "An unknown frequency is interfering with Jarvis' ability to scan our target destination."
"Which could explain why Clint's GPS tracker hasn't pinged in our scanners. Either something atmospheric is blocking the signal, or Amora has tech on the ground causing the interference. Thor?"
"Asgardian technology is more advanced than yours. It is possible."
"Agent Cortez, find us a landing spot a couple of miles outside of town. We need to keep our presence concealed as long as possible."
"Yes, Ma'am," their pilot responded.
"I'll keep working on the scanners," Tony said. "If I can hammer down the frequency, I might able to tell you where it's coming from. Silver Lining: Unless she set up this location with the express intent of deceiving us and throwing us off her scent, we've got the right place."
"She probably knows Christian is on the outs by now, so let's not assume anything."
Natasha retreated into her thoughts while Cortez circled the area to find a suitable location to land. Her unsettled stomach protested when the ship shifted course and started into its descent, nausea intensifying until she wasn't certain she could control the spasms. A grimace marred her features, palm flattening against her stomach.
The discomfort suddenly became more acute. There was no stopping it this time, so she jerked at her harness restraints. She barely cleared her seat before the contents of her stomach revisited the light of day, body wrenching with each spasm until nothing was left to come up. Even then, she continued to dry-heave for several moments while Iron Man, Thor, and Cortez looked on in horror.
A pronounced "eww" was forthcoming before Iron Man's faceplate lowered into place. "Sorry, Thor. You're on your own. I so much as smell it, and I'll be doing it too."
Thor was clearly concerned and hurried over to pull her hair away from her face and rub a big palm over her back. "You should have told us you were feeling unwell."
"It's just…the stress," she croaked, voice hoarse. "Yeah, stress."
Worrying about Clint, feeling responsible for Jane being in the hands of Christian Grey, and the rapid descent had tipped her over the edge of control, because she could not afford to legitimately be sick while Clint was in danger. The Black Widow program had caused certain enhancements to her molecular structure that prolonged her life and increased her stamina, agility, and rate of healing, so an illness wouldn't be as devastating to her. That didn't mean she could afford to not be at the top of her game while Clint was missing.
Her condition wasn't helped in the slightest when the quinjet finally touched down with a slight jerking motion that almost sent her into another fit of dry-heaving. Uncertain seconds ticked by, time in which she didn't bother shrugging Thor's touch away. Finally, her stomach settled enough she was able to straighten her position.
"Better?" asked Thor.
"More or less. Cortez, clean this up while we're gone."
"But…" the agent started to protest.
Natasha cut him off abruptly. "Do you want me to throw up again when we come back and fill this airtight tin can with an even stronger scent of vomit? No? Then man up."
Cortez looked like he would continue his protests only to sag his shoulders in submission and mutter, "Sometimes, I really hate my life." Then he punched a button that lowered the back ramp to allow blessedly fresh air to flood into the jet along with a downright frigid breeze.
Rain peppered down outside. Between that and temperatures that hovered right around freezing, leaving the safety of the quinjet was a dreaded occurrence. If she was legitimately sick, running around in the cold and wet certainly wouldn't help her condition. Somehow, this was all Christian Grey's fault. She would find a way of exacting revenge.
There was nothing else for it. Tasha jogged down the ramp and stepped out into the elements with a visible shudder. Heavy clouds obliterated moonlight that would have helped them navigate their surroundings, so they were plunged into darkness when Cortez killed the external lights that had helped him safely land.
"Tony, you got any navigation up and running?" she asked. "Second question: There anything you can do about your chest piece and eyes? You're a walking Christmas tree."
"Negatory. Even my onboard compass is malfunctioning, but we need to head east. That way." Seconds later, the arc reactor snuffed out as a metal plate sealed over it. The suit's glowing eyes dimmed and then ceased giving off light altogether.
Soft blue lights at her wrists from the electrified devices that produced her Widow's Kiss flickered and then died when she flipped a couple of switches to kill the lights. That done, she hurried off into the darkness. The air was heavy with moisture and the cloying scent of wet earth, effectively turning breathing into a conscious decision rather than muscle memory. Nausea continued to be a distraction, but her stomach was much more inclined to behave now that she'd emptied its contents.
Navigating the hilly terrain in darkness while the ground was slick with rain and mud slowed their progress to a crawl. They moved silently. The only sounds produced by their passing were the whirring of gears in Tony's armor and the crunch of vegetation beneath his heavier footfalls. Occasionally, a branch would whip back and slap against his armor, but they could be confident their approach wouldn't be given away by light or sound.
By the time Tasha stopped the group on a hilltop overlooking the small valley in which Quaquetal sprawled, she was soaked to the bone and practically shivering. Tendrils of dripping hair were shoved back from her face while she studied the town's layout. No uniformity or city planning was evident, just a collection of houses and shops built on whatever flat ground was available and interconnected by narrow roads and gravel drives. There was a distinct lack of garish billboards proclaiming "over a billion served" and "eat fresh."
"If we split up, we're going to cover more ground," Tasha said, finally breaking their silence. "Tony, come in from the east. Thor, you take the west. I'll arrive from the south. Work your way through town quietly and try to avoid being seen."
Her team members barely had time to nod their understanding before she disappeared into the blackness of night to make her way south. Traversing the area took no short amount of time given the sprawling nature of Quaquetal, so reaching her quadrant required far too much time for her comfort level. Progress was slowed even more upon encountering the town's outermost residences, as she had to skirt the buildings carefully to avoid triggering motion activated lights or any other security measures that would have given away her position.
In short, Natasha Romanoff's patience was wearing thin by the time she sidled into an alley separating the schoolhouse from a mercantile. Nausea cramped her belly again, and she was forced to lean over to rest her hands against her knees. Deep breaths were methodically pulled into her lungs, but that didn't save her from the inevitable. Her body jerked when heaves somehow managed to produce enough bile to splatter the ground.
Her anonymity, her silence, the element of surprise was wrenched away when someone stepped into the head of the alley, no doubt attracted by the sound of her vomiting. Tasha froze.
The young man's eyes widened, and he immediately looked alarmed.
"I'm not here to hurt you," she croaked. "You're fine."
"Help!" the man suddenly shouted. "Help! They're here! Amora, they're here!"
Dread pooled in the pit of Tasha's belly to join the nausea. Because of course Amora had an army of civilians standing between them and Agent Barton. The next logical question: Were they brainwashed, or had she recruited them to willing serve her cause? Tasha didn't have time to answer those questions, because a hulking shadow came to stand behind the resident, the young man dwarfed by the giant responding to his call.
A/N: I got some bonus writing time this week, so my lovely readers get a bonus chapter! This section will be wrapping up soon, and I'm moving forward and thinking about who will be unfortunate enough to meet Christian Grey next. If you have any suggestions for future heroines to feature, feel free to let me know.
Next Chapter: Tasha, Thor, and Iron Man battle their way through an army of frost giants and humans to find Clint, Jane is treated to more of Christian being a controlling perv.
Countdown to Clintasha: Two Chapters.