Chapter 28: Doomstadt
Tony wasn't sure if he trusted Natasha.
The Avengers were all compromised when it came to Loki, even Bruce and Steve, who hadn't had too much to do with him. For every time they'd laughed or smiled with him, there was an inevitable split second they'd hesitate to act against him.
Except Natasha; she was undoubtedly different.
Tony was in over his head, obviously. Being somewhat infatuated with the guy was pretty much defying rule one of the How To Not Be Compromised helpful leaflet.
Natasha wasn't infatuated. Loki had been a friend and an ally; however, he'd betrayed her - whether that spelled redemption or a quick neck breaking for Loki was debatable.
Tony didn't honestly know if Natasha would actually tell him exactly what she thought was going on. More worringly, he didn't know if she'd decide that optimum outcome outweighed keeping everyone in the loop.
Clint was a different story. He'd be bluntly honest unless lives or livelihoods were threatened. Natasha was sneakier, and to not mince words, less interested in the wellbeings of people so long as she reached the best solution.
It was part of what made them a good pair. Clint knew when to hold her back, and Natasha knew when to listen.
But Tony didn't trust Natasha alone with the task of finding and securing Loki.
He failed to find Loki via the Face Trace, but it had been a bit of a long shot. Odds were they'd only seen him at Heathrow because he'd wanted to be seen, for whatever reason.
Tony wasn't at all surprised when both Clint and Natasha didn't turn up anything.
Even if Natasha was lying, it was somewhat irrelavant, because either she didn't know where Loki was or she was working on something, both of which Tony couldn't really influence.
So meh. Tony was doing his job. He hadn't found anything.
The urgency to find Loki that he had possessed a few days ago had dulled to something numb; after all, succeeding in finding him probably wouldn't help anything, as much as he wanted answers. More than that, he wanted a goddamn drink, and he'd have one if he didn't know full well that if he fell into a bottle he wouldn't climb back out again.
He'd developed a new plan with Pepper and she had his back. She was bravely restructuring Stark Enterprises to finally completely shut down anything weapons-based and head more towards technology solutions, and they were considering cutting Iron Man loose from the image of SE just so it didn't lose too much.
Tony would have had no qualms about finally achieving that goal he'd set himself in Afghanistan - to stop with the weapons manufacturing - but the thing that had stopped him so far was the knowledge that taking a stand wouldn't do anything, because someone else would take over and build bigger, crueller weapons, and Tony would have less control.
Hammer had that control. Therefore Hammer had money and political influence and a shittonne of weaponry. It really was a no-win - either Hammer dragged SE down and gained various things slowly or she gained a lot quickly.
At least if Tony took the latter option it was only him getting hurt, not a lot of people he cared about.
Maybe he could engage Detroit Steel in a fight to the death and go out fighting.
Tempting as it was, he was interrupted by Natasha and Clint arriving back.
"No Loki," Clint said bluntly, Natasha standing at his shoulder. "If we can't find him he won't want to be found. Keep the Face Trace up, we're wasting time here."
Natasha nodded, just slightly. "We're looking for one particular pigeon in all of Central Park; cameras will do it better."
Tony sat back for a moment. "Fuck'em. He betrayed us, he can stay the fuck out of our way."
He wished he actually had that attitude. In reality, he wanted to talk to Loki just once.
The debate was settled by Fury telling them to get back to New York, because intel had come in suggesting that HYDRA agents were massing.
Oh joy.
-O.O-
Loki wasn't expecting any more interference from the Avengers after meeting Nat. She'd supported him - or at least claimed to, but he didn't think she was lying - and so she'd be helping, which would undoubtedly involve stopping the Avengers from stopping him.
Lovely.
Peeling himself off the roof, Loki assessed his injuries; his heel was sore and a little swollen from kicking the door in, but he could live with that. His shoulder ached, his tongue hurt and a pounding headache was setting in, not to mention how his scar was protesting everything heartily. He wondered what kind of state he'd been in after the week he'd been given. More chillingly, he wondered what Natasha would do to him if he failed.
He did like her rather a lot, but that didn't mean that he didn't fear and respect her.
Returning to his hotel was awkward because he'd actually broken one of their doors. That kind of bullshit wasn't irregular, but they did demand that he paid for it. Loki did using most of his remaining cash (excluding what he'd reserved for Masque) not wanting to use his card. He hoped nothing came up suddenly.
Then he took some assorted medications that included painkillers and sleeping pills and collapsed in bed, hoping he could sleep.
-There are guns pointing at you from every direction and they're stealing your weapons and you don't speak their language but you can hear 'SHIELD' said repeatedly, and you call out in English and Russian and Spanish and your shaky French that you're not SHIELD-
Loki startled awake again. Damn.
-O.O-
Loki's morning exercises were interrupted by a knock on the door that he'd been expecting. Putting his shirt back on and slipping a knife into his pants pocket, he peered out through the peephole. One man, one woman. He didn't stand a chance if it came to blows.
He opened the door and allowed them in.
"Feison?" the woman said.
"You know it," Loki said, applying his patented Charming Yet Oddly Toothy Grin. "Masque's?"
They didn't answer, just entered the room and closed the door behind him. Then she spoke again as she handed him a cheap plastic pack. "One handgun, small calibre. Ten clips of corresponding ammunition."
"Give me a moment," Loki said, looking through the bag. It was exactly what she'd said, but he checked the weapon was in working order and that the clips contained ammunition and not some kind of filler. All in order. Loki smiled at her again, though it wasn't met in kind. "And your money," Loki replied, handing over the sheaf of cash. The woman took it and it vanished into her clothing somewhere.
"Masque has sent your message," the man said.
"Tell her thank you," Loki said. "Is that all?"
They left without another word. The secret agent types were so stern.
-O.O-
Both Loki's and the Avengers' flights from Madripoor weren't notable, barring the fact that Tony discovered that Loki's fake passport had been used to buy a plane ticket with multiple connections that lead to Latveria. The only reason that Loki would be going to Latveria would be to talk to Doctor Doom, and really... there wasn't a whole lot of innocence in that action.
Tony turned off his tablet without bringing it up to the others. He needed to move on. He'd known the guy for three weeks and he'd personally engineered Tony's downfall, which by default made him a shithead. Moving on. From a guy who was intelligent and funny and wickedly attractive and cunning as anything. That was going to happen.
"Fuck it," Tony muttered, to curious looks from his associates. "Just thinking."
Natasha and Clint returned to their murmured discussion. Tony wondered if they were talking dirty or talking murder. Could be either.
Tony gritted his teeth and turned his tablet back on, switching to his emails and beginning to sign the forms Pepper wanted. He was letting Hammer win, but there wasn't a whole lot he could do without looking like the bad guy.
In the end, the main losses were some revenue for SE and a lot of Tony's reputation. The Avengers could probably resist letting Detroit Steel on the team. It wasn't like Tony hadn't been kicked into the dirt before.
-O.O-
Loki's first priority on arriving to the cramped and rather militaristic Latveria International Airport was to request contact with Doctor Doom; he didn't have a visa and the country was strict. He could almost feel the cameras watching him.
Instead of being put through customs (very few people were entering the country) Loki was put in what was essentially a holding cell. His message had been simple:
Information on Justine Hammer regarding what she stole from you - Silvertongue.
Loki had never had any dealings with Doctor Doom before, but he was certain that his message was intriguing enough to win him five minutes of favour. Even if a lot of his assumptions had been wrong and Hammer hadn't stolen from Doom, it was probably still enough.
Seizing the opportunity, Loki changed into his carbon jumpsuit and hid some of his knives on his person. Just in case.
After an hour or two, Loki was collected by more guards and taken to an army van, then thrown in the back.
Clear display of power. Doom wants me to know that he has the proverbial biggest dick, Loki thought amusedly.
Then he wondered exactly how much of Doom was metal. There wasn't much else to do in the blacked-out van.
Disorientation and intimidation. I wonder how many times Doom has done this.
At least he had his trusty backpack.
Eventually the van stopped and Loki was offloaded. He looked up at the enormous, ominous castle looming over him like a swollen spider. The fact that he felt the need to palm one of his knives meant that the intimidation was working.
Latveria was a depressing place. The castle was mounted on a tall, bleak rock, giving it a neat view of the dark countryside as the sun began to rise. The wind was fierce, and carried with it the odd smell of gunpowder, oil and decay.
It took Loki a moment to realise in the dark that he was looking at Doomstadt, the actual city. He was surprised by it; there were large, soaring buildings with intricate architecture that wouldn't have looked out of place in Paris, and the houses were stone and shingle, well-looked after. He'd been unashamedly expecting a shanty town.
Loki knew that Doom ruled with an iron fist, literally; this had led him to expect that his people lived in squalor. Huh.
Before he could do anything, Loki was led inside the castle itself. Turning on his internal compass, Loki tried to map the turns they made, but it was difficult; this was probably the most complicated building he'd ever been in.
Eventually they entered a large hall with a strip of rich green carpet leading to the other end, where Doom himself was sitting on a throne. For a cyborg with a metal face, he conveyed boredom perfectly.
The guards leading him forced Loki into a kneeling position; he didn't resist too much. He was trying to make a good first impression.
"Doctor Doom," Loki said, enunciating clearly. "Justine Hammer stole something from you; from your Doombots. Am I correct?"
Doom sat up and leaned forward. "What is your name, Silvertongue?"
"Loki Feison," Loki said. "You attacked Hammer's facility in San Diego very recently. That's how I know. I just left the employ of Justine Hammer and I have information for you."
"Why would you offer me this?" Doom asked.
"Because I loathe her and what she did to me," Loki said honestly. "Justine Hammer used what she took from you to create Detroit Steel, a Doombot-Iron Man hybrid, but with a little more firepower. I'm sure you've seen it on the news. Her first priority after finishing it will be to get her lover to destroy you to keep you quiet."
"Who is he?" Doom said.
"The Mandarin," Loki said. "Who, with his forces, is more than capable of destroying you, and you know it."
"I do not trust you, Loki Feison," Doom said.
"I wouldn't expect you to," Loki replied.
"Then why do you kneel before me?"
"I'm simply letting you know that I'm planning to attack Hammer's facility, invite the Avengers and try to turn it into a bloodbath," Loki said. It was a half-truth. "I don't need you there, admittedly; I can make do. I just thought you might like the opportunity." Loki said it so casually, despite his surroundings.
Unfortunately, owing to the whole metal face issue, Loki was struggling to read Doom, so instead of looking at him entreatingly, he decided to continue the facade of 'it doesn't really matter if you tag along' and got to his feet, brushing dust from his knees.
"If that's all?" he said lightly.
Doom got to his feet and paced slowly closer until they were only about a metre apart.
"Tell me more," he said.
Fuck yes.
A/N: Reviews?
