"You only got one of them? What happened to, 'oh no Tony, we don't need you. They're only two old men, I doubt they'll even fight us and if they do, it'll be easy.' Yet now I hear that Capsicle punched an elder and that Legolas got hit in the balls and is bleeding like a stuck pig- and wow, look at that cut on your jaw..that's gonna be a nasty bruise- and that now we lost one of them." Tony ranted, ignoring the old man glaring them down through the thick soundproof glass.
Clint snorted and rolled his eyes, "And you would have done better? You would have hit him with a repulsor blast and killed him."
Steve interrupted before they could start fighting. "It doesn't matter. I'm sure Fury won't mind. We got one twin, the one without a criminal record. We just arrest the other one and bring him here."
"I can't believe you're actually doing this. Are you aware that these are two senior citizens? I'm surprised you haven't tried to set them free yet." Tony snapped back, frustration now turned on Steve.
"Fury said they're dangerous and have information. Why should we let criminals run free just because they're older?" Steve hissed back, and then there was a thunk.
Tony, Steve, and Clint all turned around to see the old man banging his head on the glass pane window . He didn't seem to be showing any sign of stopping as he continued hitting the window even as the glass didn't even crack.
"Damn it. Steve go back there and do something to stop him. As entertaining as it would be to see Fury get pissed, we can't have him half brain damaged when we get back to SHIELD. Which twin is he?" Tony asked as he turned back around the face the front.
"That's Stanford. Stanley's the one without the cleft chin." Clint said, and at Tony's slightly incredulous look he said, "You don't do a mission without taking a very close look at your targets."
Steve sighed and got out of the car, "Clint, you're driving. I don't trust Tony not to speed." With that, he closed the front door and got into the back with Stanford.
Stanford stopped his banging for a moment, fixing Steve with a cold glare.
"Hello. I'm Steve Rogers." He said with the most sincere grin he could pull, and for a moment surprise lit up in Stanford's eyes. They returned to their coldness so quickly that Steve wasn't sure if he had imagined the surprise.
"Stanford Pines. But you already know that. I would love to shake your hand, but unfortunately you've handcuffed me." Stanford growled blandly, and Steve felt his smile drop.
"We just need to bring you in and ask you a few questions." Steve said with a sigh.
Stanford let out an icy laugh. "And then I'll never leave the building again. I don't think so, Rogers. You think that I don't see right through your lies?" He rolled his eyes and grinned. It was as cold as everything else the old man did. "There's not a thing in the world that could make me tell you what you want to know. I've been in scenarios like this before. The person who tried to hold me? He's dead now."
Steve sat in stunned silence at the direct threat. "Did he just admit to killing a man?" Tony asked, shock filling his voice as he spoke through the coms. Steve didn't respond, and Stanford went back to hitting his head on the window.
"Hey, stop that." Steve snapped, patience gone as he pulled the man away from the window.
Stanford snorted, "What, you want me to be of use? You're not getting anything from me so you should just let me."
"Cap, just sedate him." Clint spoke through the coms, and as he did so, a window opened in the glass; a needle came through the partition neatly presented on a tray.
"I've been working on a new sedation with Brucie. It essentially makes the target drunk as hell. It was pretty funny when we tried it on Bruce, but I'm pretty sure it'll work on this guy too." Tony cut in, and Clint snorted, thinking of Bruce stumbling around, completely hammered.
Stanford's eyes widened as he saw the needle, and Steve had a split second to pin him down in his distraction.
"Wait! Wait. I'll stop. Don't." Stanford choked out, and Clint muttered, "Don't listen to him. Just sedate him."
Steve looked down at the man beneath him. His eyes were wide and full of fear, hatred, and anger, while his whole body shook faintly. Then he saw the snarl edging up on Stanford's face. He grabbed the needle and carefully jabbed it into Stanford's neck.
Steve felt Stanford go limp beneath him and sighed. "What a piece of work. I wonder if his brother will be worse."
"My bruh'er Stanl'y is brave. 'E d'eat'd Bill." Stanford mumbled, eyes a bit crossed as he slumped down in his seat. It was such a whole change in demeanor that Steve couldn't help blinking.
"Wow, it is like he's drunk." Steve muttered.
"'M not dr'nk. I c'n c'nt my f'gers." Stanford slurred and began struggling to bring his handcuffed wrists in front of him. He grunted with effort before finally giving up. "'R not."
Steve stifled a laugh, but Tony was openly laughing over the mics.
"S 'kay. I kn'w I got siiiix f'gers." Stanford said cheerfully, but then frowned. "Imma fr'k."
The laughter stopped and Steve took a moment to look at Stanford's hands to see if his claims were true or if he was more drunk than they thought.
"Huh. He really does have six fingers. Is that on file?" He murmured.
"I guess not. Would that really be important?" Tony asked, and Clint shrugged.
"We're here, so we can tell Fury about it later, I suppose." The archer said, the car coming to a stop.
"Wh'eers Stanl'y?" Stanford slurred, looking around blearily as Clint opened the back door and helped him out.
"Yeah..he'll join you later. I'll get Fury. Go put him in the interrogation room, Steve. Tony, go try to do something helpful for once." Clint directed, and Tony rolled his eyes.
"See if me and Brucie ever make you arrows again." He muttered, walking away.
Stan narrowed his eyes as he watched Steve, shorter blond and brunette leave the car. His brother staggered along, looking like he was completely inebriated. He was stumbling and Stan wondered if they had drugged him or if he was badly hurt. The group split up, shorter blond and brunette going in different directions and Steve dragging Ford along. Ford looked back for a moment, eyes meeting with Stan's. His eyes were glassy and slightly crossed, but as he looked at Stan, faint recognition showed. He muttered something before he was finally dragged inside.
For kidnappers, they were surprisingly unsubtle and easy to track. Whether Stan owed them money from years past or these douches wanted Ford for something, Stan couldn't figure out. Either way, they were going to pay for messing with a Pines.
He began walking around the building, looking for any secret back doors he could use. For once, he wouldn't be the screw-up.