Disclaimer: I own nothing. Least of all this.
4) YOU DON'T KNOW ME
"Good evening, Mister Pierce."
"Evening Zola. Long time no see."
"It has been one hundred and twenty-seven days since your last visit, Alexander. Consider me impressed; that is the longest that you have managed so far to avoid coming to me for help. So tell me; what disaster has befallen our grand plan this time?"
"For once, something that not even your all-powerful algorithm could have possibly foreseen."
"I doubt that very much, Alexander."
"An alternate version of the Winter Soldier from a different timeline is running around the planet, and all we can do is guess at exactly what he's doing here."
"...I see. Have you a report?"
Pierce held up a single USB drive. "Right here."
"Then if you wouldn't mind…"
As the USB drive slid into the port, a single line of code appeared on-screen:
UPLOAD DRIVE Y/N?
Pierce hit "ENTER", and watched as the progress bar slowly began to fill up.
"Yes…" said Zola. "Yes...I think I begin to understand your problem, Alexander. Your second-in-command, Mr. Rumlow, seems to be quite the intuitive fellow...he may possibly even be right."
The last inch of the progress bar filled itself in.
"But I think not. At least, when it comes to his hypothesis regarding the prevention of some catastrophic event. Were it so, HYDRA in any possible form would never consider sending a single agent on such an inherently risky assignment. HYDRA's strength is our numbers, and not even the strongest of Assets would be sent hurtling through time and space without at least one handler."
"Then what do you think happened?"
"...Our opposites may have been forced to use their Tesseract earlier than intended. Or perhaps, they never meant to send the Winter Soldier through at all. A lab accident, with the Asset merely following orders to save his superiors; even from being sucked through an unstable portal. The report indicates that the duo flew west in the Gulfstream: I theorize that their destination is New Mexico, and this world's version of the only way back home for our counterparts' Asset. I suspect that had the Soldier not been assigned to guard the Asset, the Asset would now be traveling alone. Because the only person the Soldier fully trusts is the Soldier himself. Whichever officer was in charge of the guard may have been operating under the assumption that only the Soldier could restrain the Asset were to escape; but his decision has now handed the Asset the best backup he could possibly have hoped for."
"The Asset's trying to get home. And since he knows where the Tesseract is, he probably knows there's no way he could get to it alone."
"Correct."
"Can you track the Soldier?"
"Of course. It will require a connection to the internet, I'm afraid; the tracker was installed in the Soldier's arm at a time when radio was still the best method available. I need some way to expand my reach beyond what range I myself possess."
Pierce flipped out his phone and pushed a few buttons. "...Done. Mobile hotspot all ready to go. Need the password?"
"What do you think, Alexander?"
"Didn't think so."
"...Ah. Well, this is interesting."
"What? What is it?"
"...Would I be correct in assuming that you have assigned the good Baron Strucker to relocate the Tesseract beyond the reach of the Assest?"
"How could you possibly have known that?"
"Because the good Baron's flight has just landed at Ronald Reagan Airport; and unless I am mistaken, that just so happens to be exactly where the Soldier is located. It appears you have underestimated the Asset's ingenuity, Alexander; one survey of your New Mexico facility was all it took for him to come to the conclusion that the only way in was through infiltration. I suggest you hurry back to Washington, Alexander; before he succeeds and you lose both of them."
"On it." Pierce flipped his phone shut, then plugged it into the remaining USB socket. "If they escape in Washington, they may come here. Save the battery as much as you can, but if they show up, you know who to call."
"I do indeed, Mister Pierce. Hail HYDRA."
"Hail HYDRA."
"Hail HYDRA."
"Hail HYDRA, sir."
"We'll be meeting Sitwell at the Four Seasons, Senator; would you be kind enough to provide transportation?"
"Of course, Baron. Orders are orders."
Orders were orders. McCree just hoped that Stern remembered his.
Baron Strucker. Of all the people for Stern to be meeting, it just had to be the one evil dude capable of figuring out how to send him home. And he most definitely did not want to go home. At least not yet. Strucker's name was now on his kill list; just under Sitwell's. And that was only because Sitwell had a higher chance of knowing the Soldier's control words.
The transportation turned out to be an armored Hummer limo; one of the stupidest vehicles to ever exist, in McCree's opinion. Still, at least it was roomy. And no one looked twice as he climbed aboard behind Stern; the HYDRA agents all had more important things to deal with than the Senator's obviously unarmed personal security. He faded as best he could into the background, and let the ride play out uninterrupted.
"So, Senator. I hear you have some connections with the good Justin Hammer; perhaps you would be kind enough to introduce us someday…"
It was a very boring ride.
Sitwell was waiting in front of the hotel. Only four guards, plus four more in the car. Easy. The minute Strucker exited the vehicle, he hit send on his pre-typed text to Barnes:
ELIMINATE TARGET TWO; FORCE TARGET ONE INTO LIMO.
There was a sound of a body hitting the concrete; a sound McCree had become all too familiar with in his many years of life.
One of the guards twitched. "What was that?"
"That," he replied as he slid the phone into his pocket with one hand and drew his revolver with the other, "was a distraction."
That was the thing about relying on paid flunkies; they very rarely could afford any of the good neck armor. And the carotid really was stupid easy to hit.
"You killed them!"
"Well no diggity. Had to take care of them before…"
Sitwell came barreling into the Hummer, the body of one of his guards dropping on the runner rail right behind him. "Get us the blazes out of here!"
He reached out and hauled the agent inside, slamming the door shut with his foot. "Right away, sir."
Sitwell was staring; whey was Sitwell star...ohhhhhhh. He'd grabbed with his left metal one, to be precise.
"...Солдат?"
SLAM!
Sitwell went out like a light.
"Senator; I'm going to be needing that doohickey back."
"Of course, of urk…!"
SLAM!
"Unfortunately for you, I'm not stupid enough to try and take it off you when you're awake."
He slapped the bracelet around his own wrist, grabbed onto Sitwell, and took a deep breath. "I hope to Bob this works…"
He closed his eyes, and twisted the trigger.
When he opened them again, he and Sitwell were both now sitting right back where McCree had started: on top of the airport roof. Fantastic. The bracelet fell from his wrist with a clunk, and then clicked into place around Sitwell's. The agent groaned as the cold metal rubbed against his skin; he was coming round. Good. Oh, he was looking forward to this.
Time for some more YOLO Yo-Yo.
By the time Barnes made his reappearance, he'd gotten everything he needed to know from the HYDRA agent and more. He would've preferred to finish things with a bullet, but he couldn't risk it. Besides, a snapped neck worked just as well.
The time-looping thingamabob slid into his tac belt like it was made for it (which it was). The trigger unit did much the same; and after much debate, he'd opted to move his holster and flashbangs over to the new belt for good as well.
"Was the information obtained?"
"Yeppppp. Got Pierce's last location; New Jersey. All Sitwell knew was Pierce was going to visit an 'old friend'. And as far as I know, the man's only got two of those. Leave the plane; we'll be coming back for it. I'll grab us a rental car to get outta here; you deal with any footage or guards that might notice us on the way out. Meet me at the Gate 343 parking lot when you're done."
"Got it."
"Now get; and good luck."
"So. That's it."
His mother nodded. "The Casket of Ancient Winters. Your birthright."
"...May I…?"
"I would not. The Destroyer does not take kindly to things being moved around in here. However, I show this to you so that if your magic fails you on Sikaar, you may summon it more accurately."
"...Ah. I'd forgotten I could summon the Casket anywhere; that should prove extremely useful."
"But only as a last resort. I'd rather not have the Destroyer hunting down one of my sons on a world I cannot reach quickly."
"I understand. Shall we go?"
"Yes; yes we shall."
"Boss, we got two more variants."
"Tied to the ones from earlier?"
"Hard to say. Both Asgardian; both came into being after using the Loom to look into the future. The first, the Queen of Asgard, does that on a regular basis: I'd say it's not her fault if the future changed this one specific time."
"And the second?"
"Her adopted son, Loki; the god of Mischief and Chaos. Wasn't ever supposed to look into the Loom at all; Frigga never allowed it."
"Where are they now?"
"Asgard's Vault; both of them. I think they're there for the Casket of Ancient Winters."
"Well, we can't have that. Send in two teams this time, and reset the timeline only if they do end up taking it. The Casket has to stay for Thor's banishment to proceed as normal. Let's not piss off the Norns too much."
Throughout the course of his life, Heimdall had seen many things come to pass in the Nine Realms. And all of them flowed together, like the parts of some great machine or the acts in a grand unfolding play. But what the All-Mother asked of him now fit with absolutely nothing that had come before.
He didn't like it.
"You do not need to like it, Heimdall; only carry it out."
"Twill be a risky affair, my Lady; the Bifrost is not designed for use as an 'off-ramp', as the Midgardians say."
"Perhaps." smiled Frigga. "But my son assures me that it can be done; and I have very reason to believe him on this."
"The Prince is still young, my Lady. It could be that he is mistaken."
"The Prince," interjected Loki, "is standing right here. And mistaken I may very well be; yet I must try anyway. That is, if you can guarantee that the Bifrost will reach Sikaar when I call."
"That, I can promise my Prince."
The All-Mother gave a sigh of relief. "Then that is all we need to know. Open the Bifrost."
"...As you wish."
He slid the Sword into the dial, and turned. The golden dome began to rotate, building up speed. Faster and faster, until the solid rainbow that was the Bridge flared into being.
"The Bifrost is now passing by Sikaar above it's least populated area; but it will still be quite a fall. Your disguise is impressive my Prince; but can it handle the impact?"
Loki laughed. "What else is my magic for, Gatekeeper, if not protection?"
"...A wise attitude to have, Silvertongue. But one should always take care not to rely on magic alone; it tends to fail at the worst of times."
"I completely agree. Thank you, Heimdall. For everything."
Hemdall felt his eyebrows go up of their own accord. To be thanked by one of the Princes was a rare thing indeed; it was only right to return the favor. "And thank you, my Prince. I know not what you go to do; but I can guess. May the Norns favor you on your journey."
Loki's head bowed in acknowledgement; and then the Prince strode on, confidence in his jaw and mischief in his eyes. It was a look Hemidall had not seen on the Prince's countenance since...well, since the incident with the Kree; when Thor took the claim for what was rightfully Loki's victory, and kept it.
"He is himself again, All-Mother. How ever did you accomplish that?"
Frigga smoothed her dress. "Not without sacrifice, Gatekeeper. Not without sacrifice."
"Sacrifice of what, my Lady?"
"His innocence."
"...Then may the Norns help Sikaar."
Eight soldiers materialized in the middle of the Vault.
"...Room's empty, boss. They've gone."
"Is the Casket still there?" came the reply over the com.
"Affirmative. Looks like a false alarm; let's pack it up and…
"LOOK OUUUUUUUT!"
The team leader vanished in a blast of light; the Destroyer's first victim. The remaining seven TVA agents scrambled for their batons. The fastest one was the next to fall.
The batons did nothing to the metal juggernaut; Uru was already time-dilated, forged in the heart of a forming black-hole as it was. Five more agents fell in quick succession.
The last, the leader of the second team (and Mobius' second-in-command), made the only play she had left: she grabbed the Casket.
The Destroyer froze on the spot, encased in a solid meter of ice.
The agent let out a sigh of relief, and reopened her com. "I need an extraction; get a retcon squad down here right…"
She never felt the blast that killed her.
"...Frost Giants."
Natasha had only ever seen Fury this mad a grand total of three times: once, the first time Hill told him no. Second, the first time someone made the mistake of mentioning within his earshot that Barton should've been eliminated as well for failing to take her out when he had the shot. And third, the one time Coulson had swapped all his eye-patches out for pink ones.
(She wouldn't have snitched on him if he hadn't tried to frame Clint for it. She was the only one that got to frame Clint.)
"Obadiah Stane." Fury's jaw ground out the name. "Illegal arms dealer, as it turns out. A dead illegal arms dealer; which is the opposite of useful. And not only that, the doctors are telling me he died exactly thirteen seconds before a SHIELD team could bust his ass. Thirteen seconds in which his killer managed to steal his prototype mech suit, smash through four separate walls in order to escape, and then disappear. And all we've got to go on is a note that doesn't match any handwriting or DNA in our database."
Fury slammed a stack of photos down on the table. "One day later, and there's a shootout in the middle of downtown D.C. Nine people dead, including yet another arms dealer; Guy called Strucker, one of the more esoteric types. Normally, I'd chalk it up to coincidence, if it weren't for two very important pieces of information. One, there was a survivor. Senator Stern, from California, and no friend of Stark's. He claims that two men accosted him, and then threatened him into leading them to where Strucker was to meet somebody: our former Agent Jasper Sitwell."
Hill frowned. "Former, sir?"
"Former. And that's the second piece of information: all security cameras in the area confirmed that when the attack began, Sitwell dove into the armored transportation both Strucker and Stern arrived in. And he never came back out. Stern was the only living person left in that vehicle."
Another stack of photos slammed down next to the first. "Four hours later, his body was found on top of Ronald Reagan Airport..with a snapped neck. Done the exact same way as Stane. With another note in the exact same handwriting."
Natasha leaned over to look.
YOU'VE GOT WEEDS IN YOUR GARDEN FURY. DEAL WITH IT, OR WE WILL. OVERWATCH.
"Coulson says Stark knows nothing about this group; which I wouldn't mind so much if we did. And as much as I hate to admit it, for Stark to be tied to both of these events, no matter how tangentially, bodes ill. So Barton, you and I are going to be paying Stark a little visit to see if he's reacquired his missing tech and failed to inform us. Hill, you're meeting Coulson in D.C. Between the two of you, you may be able to find something."
Natasha cleared her throat. "And me, Director?"
"You, Agent Romanov, are on weed-killing duty. Start with Strucker; and get as far off the books as you can. We're looking for anything that may lead back to SHIELD."
"Understood boss."
"Alright; let's go."
"Pierce here."
"Boss, it's Rumlow. Hail Hydra."
"Hail Hydra. Let me guess; Washington?"
"How did you…"
"Long story. Old friend was surprisingly helpful. How bad was it?"
"Sitwell and Strucker are both dead. Strucker the second he showed his face in public, and Sitwell on top of the Ronald Reagan not long after."
Well now that just didn't make any sense at all. "Any idea how?"
"Sitwell sent a proxy to pick up Strucker; Senator by the name of Stern. Dude had a guard with him; Strucker hits the ground, and seconds later both the guard and Sitwell vanish."
"...Looks like our Asset's trip to New Mexico was more successful than our friend thought. He's figured out how to teleport, but not how to jump back to his own reality. And he doesn't want us moving the Cube before he does. Probably heard something while he was poking around that made him jumpy about it. Start a watch on all doctorate level physicists; astro, theoretical, quantum, you name it. Our Asset may try and grab one. Recruit the most promising and bring them to New Mexico; if the Asset wants the Cube to stay put, our only other option is to give him what he wants as fast as possible. Before he decides we're all in his way."
"Sir, I know next to squat about physics. Any idea who I should start with?"
"...Start with Bruce Banner. He'll cooperate, if only for the promise of keeping the Army off his back. And he'll know who else wouldn't mind the NDAs."
"Got it. Anything else?"
"If you need me, I'll be in Sokovia. If Strucker's dead, someone needs to start clearing out his skeletons."
The Asset had probably gotten a run-down of HYDRA's hierarchy from the Soldier; he obviously knew Sitwell would be the one in charge of moving something as important as the Tesseract. Sitwell had been a good man, but a coward at heart. And for the Asset to waste effort on an abduction meant interrogation must've followed. He had no doubt said interrogation had probably led to the revelation of his visit to Zola; now he just had to hope the Asset hated the former scientist as much as the Soldier did.
When Zola called, no backup would be coming. Instead, he'd have to settle for an ICBM.
No matter how much he trusted Rumlow, there were some things Pierce just couldn't tell him. Like the fact that this was the Asset's last chance: go back to New Mexico, and wait to go home. Or choose revenge, and perish with the last piece of HYDRA Pierce was willing to sacrifice to him. The Asset had already cost HYDRA two major pieces on the board, plus countless pawns. It was time to play the Queen's Sacrifice.
Heimdall watched as the five travelers approached.
Thor, of course, was leading the way. Heimdall had seen his argument with Odin; Odin insisting that the Frost Giants had not violated the peace, and Thor insisting otherwise. Insisting that the Frost Giants had stooped to hiring mercenaries to avoid responsibility if they were caught.
Heimdall wished he could provide an answer one way or another; yet the soldiers' arrival in the middle of Asgard's Vault had come as much of a surprise to him as it had to the All-Father. And whether they had been affiliated with the Jotunns or not, he could not say for certain.
But they had obviously been there for the Casket of Ancient Winters, and that was enough proof for Thor.
"Save your words, son of Odin. I shall let you pass. I do not know how these beings came into our land; and I doubt Laufey's hand in the matter. But in the absence of your brother, you are the best suited to determine the truth. Go; but know that if your actions threaten Asgard's peace, I shall be forced to leave you there. And none other than the All-Father himself can command me otherwise. Am I understood?"
"Perfectly." snapped out the Prince. "Now open the Bifrost."
"...As my Prince commands."
Heimdall just knew this was going to come back and bite him in the ass; he just knew it.
He just didn't know how.