Samantha Stark knew the elaborate game she was playing. It was like starring in a play – one in which every actor had a license to kill. All she had to do was wait for her cue before entering stage left. She knew her part well and she was good at it too. A large chunk of it was improvisation, however, and quite often she didn't know her cue until it arrived but that was what it was. It was a masterful art. Her art.
She stood off to the side, hidden by the grey stone of the Siberian fortress, watching as Steve Rogers, James Buchanan 'Bucky' Barnes and her father, Tony Stark, were told of Baron Zemo's plot. She'd chosen long ago to stay out of this war but the things Everett Ross held over her head made that impossible. Tiptoeing quietly closer to the scene before her, she heard the Sokovian spy announce "Looking closely at you, I see green in your eyes. Finally, a flaw," and took that as her cue.
"Well I think it gives him character," she stated as she marched out of the shadows and into the line of sight of the four men. "You know Mr Zemo, you've caused an awful lot of trouble. I'd prefer it if that didn't happen again. Tell me why disguise yourself as Barnes for the bombings? Surely there's any number of other who would have sufficed in creating the same kind of conflict,"
Zemo looked her directly in the eye. Meanwhile, her father, Steve and Bucky were blinking with confusion "Miss Stark, I was wondering when you would show up," Zemo said in his Sokovian accent, sounding too devious for her liking.
Still, she smirked cockily responding with "Well you know how I like to turn up at the eleventh hour and all. By the way, you still haven't answered my question," she said casually, throwing it in his face so to speak. "Why Bucky?" she gritted her teeth in something akin to anger. She may not have liked the fact that Bucky had betrayed Steve two ways from Tuesday but she was willing to accept that the two were friends. Any friend of Steve's was as near as dammit a friend of hers and she'd treat them as such too.
"Bucky is the only man who could make the great Steve Rogers break the laws he holds so dear," was Zemo's response and Samantha rolled her eyes.
"Yes, good ole chauvinism, wrecking friendships since day one. You're still not answering my question though. Not really anyway. I mean, I can take all of this back to the Joint Counter Terrorist Centre – God we need to get an acronym for those guys – and MI6 and they'll be pleased. Everett Ross might even throw a party given the shit storm you've caused for all I know. The point is you've done all this and for what? I get that your family were killed in Sokovia, I'd be pissed too. But all this, well, it's rather elaborate and weren't you Sokovian Intelligence? So, I suppose what I'm asking is does it only matter if your family is killed. Because let's not pretend that you haven't killed people in your job,"
Zemo launched at her and she stepped aside, leaving her foot outstretched so that he tripped and fell flat on his face "Oops. Sorry," she said. Momentarily, she looked away from Zemo to see her father staring at a screen. It was a sight she was used to – Tony Stark staring at a screen was like a duck taking to water, incredibly common. The face he was pulling, however, was not quite so common. It was one of sadness, pure sadness.
Then, rather quickly, the sadness turned to rage as he started to beat the living daylights out of Bucky yelling "You killed my mom," Samantha stood for a second, shocked and uncertain of what she ought to do. The next thing she knew, she was being knocked to the ground as Zemo made his escape.
4 months earlier
Samantha tapped her foot on the Embassy floor. They had been careful not to place her in a room that was anywhere near opulent in some attempt to make her nervous – she assumed that they'd done the opposite to Wanda. She supposed that the Embassy officials hadn't known that surviving interrogation had been one of Samantha's strengths from the outset. They'd taken her phone, jewellery – everything that could be used as a means of communication. They'd done everything she would have done in her position which meant they were taking her claim seriously.
The door clicked open and she was faced with a beautiful woman with red hair pinned up in a tight chignon. She couldn't be much older than Samantha and her perfectly manicured eyebrows that framed her bright blue eyes indicated a high pay check. She smiled politely, a gesture Samantha dutifully returned "So," she began in a posh accent – straight out of Maida Vale at a guess – "You don't exist as an operative of MI6 under the name Maria Thomas or Samantha Stark," Samantha nodded in response "But you already knew that. So why come to us?"
Samantha let out one of those gasping laughs – the kind that she wasn't quite accustomed to giving – and smiled "My biological mother, it turns out, is Diana Thomas, also known as Artemis an employee of MI6. That makes me, by descent, a legacy member of your agency," was her only answer.
"That may be how it works in America but not in the United Kingdom,"
"Tell that to your Royal Family then," Samantha quipped and the woman cracked a slight smile.
"Miss Stark, you have to understand, the only way I could possibly grant you and your friend asylum – and there are grounds for it- is if the two of you were to become MI6 agents," her face was stern and, for some reason (maybe it was the red hair) Samantha was reminded of Natasha.
She thought about the proposal for a few seconds, mulling over her options in her head, biting her lip out of indecision and nervousness before answering "Well then Miss –" she stopped, realising that she didn't know the redhead's name.
"Hannah. Elsie Hannah," was the response and Samantha smiled gently.
"Miss Hannah, you have yourself a deal,"
She sat up slowly, clutching her head where it had hit the cobbled floor. She didn't even bother to check for blood knowing that it was most likely there anyway. Stumbling to her feet and dashing off to find Zemo, she ignored the niggling feeling that told her to deal to the situation inside the fortress.
The biting cold hit her as she opened the large, iron doors. She shivered, wishing that she hadn't left her jacket on the quinjet. She couldn't see much except a man dressed as a black cat of sorts who she knew to be the new King of Wakanda, T'Challa. His need for vengeance she could understand. The Wakandans were generally peaceful people, they believed every life to be sacred. Perhaps that was why T'Challa had taken his father's death so hard – because there was no genuine reason for it to happen other than the fact that Zemo, a psycho wild with grief, had made it so.
Samantha felt as though she could trust the Wakandan King – she ought to have been able to at least – and stopping the possible death of her father or Steve was as much a necessity as bringing Zemo into custody. Plus, she was freezing outside amongst the cold air and snow, wearing her t-shirt and skinny jeans.
Marching back inside, she decided to stand off to the side, figuring out her next move. She could see that Bucky's metallic arm – the one the Soviets had built him – was partially amputated. The, she noted that Steve's shield was stuck inside her father's chestplate and anger bubbled inside of her. She gripped onto the wall beside her and squeezed her eyes shut in an attempt to control her rage. She couldn't afford to lose control, not now. She put her hand out in front of her – she wasn't sure why – and quickly found herself in possession of the shield. "Samantha," she heard Steve say, his voice breathy.
"Give me one good reason why I shouldn't arrest you now and hand you over to any one of the agencies after you," she growled angrily.
"Your father tried to kill Bucky," Steve attempted to reason and Samantha shook her head.
"Bucky killed my grandmother. He tried to kill you not too long ago. Or did you conveniently forget that part. Surely, surely one man isn't worth all of this,"
"He's my best friend Samantha. You wouldn't know about that sort of thing because you've never been loyal to anyone," he spat and it wounded her. Had she not helped Wanda escape potential death and torture at the hands of S.H.I.E.L.D? Had she not rescued him from the clutches of her own psychotic mother? She grabbed a hold of her left ring finger and spun the diamond ring around until it came off in her hand.
Taking his hand, she planted the ring in his palm "If you really think that about me then this is yours," she closed his palm and pushed past him so she could reach her father, the shield still in her hand.
