Chapter Twenty-Five
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Geneva was in chaos.

Police put the entire city on lockdown, which definitely made sneaking in a little difficult. Not so difficult as to be impossible, of course. They were professionals.

"You think they could still be in the city?" Wilson asked as they milled about in the massive crowd around the palace, the scene of the crime. It was a beautiful day, filled with screams and sirens, cast in stark relief by the setting sun.

"If they are, they'd be idiots," Bucky replied grimly, hands in pockets, shoulders hunched. Only pools of blood and yellow-tape cordons remained of where the bodies fell. But Bucky was already trying to calculate angles. Where did they fire from? The courtyard in front of the palace was massive, with few tall structures in the area before it stretched out into the lake. It had to a spot from that direction. Possibly fired across the two mile stretch over the lake, but some instinct told Bucky the location was much closer.

Whoever had Mia wouldn't take that chance.

It had taken them two hours to get here, record time in their stolen car. They'd kept up as information unfolded over their burners, but Bucky already knew most of the details before they were revealed. Single gunman, likely a rifle, small number of targets, all killed in under a minute. Probably long gone by the time anyone pinpointed their perch.

And he was fairly certain he knew who pulled the trigger.

"They're already saying it's the Winter Soldier," Steve said, like Bucky couldn't understand the French chatter around him. Still, the news didn't surprise him. "First the bomb, now this. It doesn't make sense."

Wilson frowned. "How so? Seems to me this guy's doing a pretty good job of getting Interpol trying to catch Barnes."

Steve opened his mouth to reply, but a blare of a foghorn and the shouting of police started corralling the onlookers further away from the scene. They couldn't hang around long anyways. Interpol had already arrived within the hour of the attack.

Before Steve managed to finish his thought, Bucky heard his phone buzz in his pocket. Steve removed it, a puzzled look at whatever text he received. "Underneath an overpass south of here. Sharon wants to meet."

"To arrest me." Bucky mused wryly.

"No," Steve shook his head. "She's got something for us."

Probably handcuffs, Bucky thought without any humor. But they had to keep moving anyway. Might as well go see what Carter wanted. Bucky still didn't trust her by a long shot, but if Steve thought this was the way forward, then so be it. There was still plenty of time for Carter to double-cross them.

Buckt knew he was probably being unfair to this woman, but least to say this whole situation had him looking at things in a new light. He hated that they were just chasing after this Rudi person, always two steps behind, and just barely keeping ahead of Interpol. No clue yet if they realized that the three had left Germany yet, but Bucky supposed it was only a matter of time.

Carter waited, leaning against the side of her nondescript black sedan, looking tense and tired. Like she hadn't slept since Bucky had been arrested the previous day. Her bun was loose and several strands hung loosely about her face, and her shirt was wrinkled and in need of change. Carter straightened at their arrival; Bucky scanned the area carefully, but didn't spot any signs that she had company, or that this was an ambush waiting to happen.

She was alone.

Or it appeared.

Bucky could feel the pair of eyes watching him, though from where wasn't immediately obvious. He was also distracted by Carter, who was acting fidgety, like someone with something to hide. Someone impatient, someone in a rush. The sort of thing that leads to trouble.

"I don't have long," Carter said as they approached, coming around to the back of her trunk. "Ross and everyone else are convinced that this is the Winter Soldier's doing, and you better believe he's using this as an excuse to militarize everyone available. Hopefully they won't notice these going missing in the lineup. Not for a while, anyways."

She popped the trunk, and Wilson let out a tiny "Yes!" At the sight of his wingsuit tucked inside.

"Sharon, you shouldn't have—" Steve began, but Carter raised a single finger.

"There's no 'should' or 'shouldn't' here," She said, her tone brooking no argument. "You guys are gonna need this stuff, end of story. Interpol know about Rudi Schmidt but they only see him as a supporting agent. Not the man behind the curtain. We're still not sure what he is or who he's really working for."

"Well, thank you," Steve sighed, and gave her the kind of smile that, had they been boys, would've prompted Bucky to give him a smack upside the head. He bent and picked up the vibranium shield from her trunk, its familiar Stars and Stripes hidden in a canvas bag. "You won't regret this, I promise."

She just smirked, folding her arms. "I already do."

"And nothing for me?" Bucky asked, though he was mostly joking. Put at ease by this act of generosity. Carter went at great risk to steal from her own employers just to give them their extra tools. Bucky already had everything he needed.

Sharon turned her gaze to him, opening her mouth, but was cut off by the sound of a rope cord coming down. Two feet hitting the gravel, soft as kitten paws. "Oh, just a little something."

Steve spun around and Wilson cursed. But Bucky knew that voice anywhere. He turned and smiled faintly at Natalia, who tugged once on her grappling line and let it drop, before rolling it up again. Her green gaze met Bucky's and she winked.

Carter rolled her eyes at the intrusion. "Should've known that place would never keep you, Romanoff. How long did it take? Ten hours? Twelve?"

"Eight," Natalia replied lightly, like she was calling her mile time and not how long it took her to escape the highest security prison on the planet. A literal death trap in the middle of the ocean.

"Eight?" Carter repeated, and seemed to do some math in her head. "Then that would've been —"

"With your jet, yes," Natalia said, and smiled. "Thanks for the ride, by the way."

"What about the others?" Steve asked, with no small amount of urgency.

"They're still on the Raft," Natalia said, and at his gaping look, she just threw out her arms. "I couldn't hide everyone on the jet. Besides, they're fine where they are. They're fed and they've got plumbing."

"You just didn't want the company, huh?" Wilson replied, smirking.

"I work better alone," Natalia smiled that mysterious smile. "Besides, I figured if the impregnable Raft lost all its hostages at once, our Agent Carter here would be out of a job."

Carter huffed, shaking her head and muttering something under her breath. Then, to Steve, "Well, looks like you got yourselves your tools and then some. Hopefully it's enough."

Personally, Bucky was relieved. He didn't mind the Avengers for the most part. But even Wilson got on his nerves at the best of times. If all of them were here? There'd be too many cooks in the kitchen. Not to mention much easier to get caught again. Besides, asking Natalia to personally break out the rest of the team? What was she going to do, fit them into those tiny pockets?

"What's the deal here?" Nat asked, looking between the group. Aside from her gauntlets, she was dressed as a civilian, dark clothes and hair pulled back in a neat braid. All business, as usual. "You found out who did it already?"

"It's a guy named Rudi What's-His-Nuts," Wilson replied, slamming the trunk lid closed once it was empty. "Had a girlfriend back in Berlin, completely in the dark. We don't think she's involved, and has no idea who he really is."

"We're also pretty sure Rudi is a false identity," Steve added, then cut a look towards Bucky. "It's only a theory, but we think it may be someone from our past."

That earned equal looks of surprise from Carter and Natalia. Nat raised her eyebrows. "Care to share with the class, boys?"

Steve hesitated for a moment, but complied. And hearing it again, Bucky knew how crazy it must seem. Heinrich von Zemo was extremely dead. Very much so. No one comes back from a bullet to a brain, not even with fucked up Nazi science experiments. Except for that one Howlett guy they met, but then again the bullet never entered his skull. So.

After they were done explaining, the women exchanged a look. Carter glanced back at them, "That's… definitely a theory if I've ever heard one. Is it possible Zemo had any children?"

Bucky wouldn't remember that, and Steve only shrugged. "If he did, we never encountered them. But he had a large castle and plenty of resources to hide a family if he needed to. It's not outside the realm of possibility. They might have escaped to South America."

"I'll put a tab on it," Carter nodded. "I don't know what I'll find, if anything. But I've got some connections with Mossad, and they might have something. In the meantime, try to keep a low profile while you're hunting down Rudi. I can keep the heat off you for a while, but obviously Interpol have already decided who's responsible for this, and I've yet to find another target for them to shoot at."

Bucky cringed at the word use. "It wasn't me who did that,"

"I know," Carter nodded to him. "From where I'm looking, you've got a solid alibi, Barnes. But we still need someone to pin the shooting on."

"It's not just that," Bucky shook his head. "The person who pulled the trigger — it's Mia."

Four pairs of eyes stared at him, silence falling beneath the overpass.

Then, at length, Natalia spoke, "Well, from the construction site, anyone could've made those shots —"

"Anyone, sure," Bucky already knew what she was trying to say, but it didn't matter. "It's a short distance for a sniper. But that's not the point. It was Mia. It had to be Mia."

Nat frowned and looked away. But Carter looked baffled. "Why?"

"To send a message."

"To who? You?"

Bucky shrugged. "Why not? It's been about me so far, hasn't it? He knows I'd recognize the handiwork. He could've made anyone else do it, but with Mia he knows it'll —"

He couldn't finish the sentence, voice choking off in the pain and the grief. There was no logic to the decision, why this man would choose Mia when her skills weren't necessary for the task. But Bucky knew. He knew in his bones it had to be her.

"To hurt you," Steve finally said, his voice grim and quiet. Head bowed, he continued, "This is personal. For him, and for us. For you."

"Which lends itself to the Zemo theory," Wilson added, when he spotted Carter's doubtful look. "If this is about revenge, you better readjust your motives for these attacks. I bet whatever politics at play here are just a smokescreen for whatever this guy's really doing."

Carter cut him a long look. "Maybe. I think you should also consider that the politics are still extremely important here. These two motives don't have to be mutually exclusive. The people killed were all diplomats or ambassadors for Western nations. Switzerland, France, the UK, Israel, and the United States. And also Russia, for some flavor. What does that sound like to you?"

They all shared glances. Natalia spoke first. "If this guy's looking to start a fight with the old Allied powers, I'm not quite sure he remembers how the last time it ended."

Her tone was wry, a bit of humor to cut the tension. But Steve nodded, agreeing with Carter's original point. "I don't know what kind of fight he's trying to pick, but the targets definitely don't sound random to me."

"There's a good chance he has more planned," Wilson added.

"We know, and we're trying to anticipate it," Carter sighed. "But with this revenge motive added on, it makes him extremely unpredictable. We don't know where he'll strike next, what his next move is. What his endgame is. Is he just a terrorist trying to sow as much chaos and destruction as possible? Or is he aiming for something a little higher?"

That was a thought none of them wanted to contemplate.

~ o ~

Peter had no idea what they were supposed to be doing in Geneva.

He couldn't even speak French, much less Swiss or German. At least no one noticed when Peter called Jonas "Vision" by accident. Code names weren't necessary, not yet at least. As far as any of them were able to figure, no one was looking for them, not in Switzerland. It was very green here. A lot of mountains.

It hadn't taken them long to figure out that the news story was related to Mia. At this point, they were just following Interpol and trying their best to look as inconspicuous as possible.

Peter had a choice of either hitching a ride with Vision, Wanda, or Pietro, and honestly none of them were fun. He was sort of okay with flying in the sense it was similar to swinging — but not at the height or speeds they were going at just to make it to Geneva at a good time. And being carried by Pietro was both humiliating and had him puking his guts at the first stop and then just bile the following.

Least to say, Peter wasn't feeling his greatest. But probably better than Howie was doing — Wanda insisted he stayed in bed at the hotel room they definitely paid for with real cash. Howie had protested, he wanted to be helpful. But considering he was fighting between constant yawns and sneezing, it was better for him to take some cough medicine and lie down in a dark, warm room for a while.

They couldn't actually get close to the scene of the crime. Whole city on lockdown and they had to pretend they were tourists on a school field trip, bumbling around and trying not to get caught in any police roundings.

"You're sure Mia's actually involved in this?" Peter asked the twins as they hunkered down on the roof of a tenement building, trying to look out across the water at the palace in the distance. Where six people died, less than a day ago. The thought that it was his cousin that pulled the trigger sent chills down Peter's spine. He was secretly glad they couldn't get any closer.

"No," Wanda answered, but her frown didn't give him much hope. "But all things considered, it's fair to assume whoever took her did. This man bombed the UN congress, this would be well within his purview."

"He's sowing chaos," Pietro agreed. "And if Mia is under protocol, then she has no choice but to obey. It's not her fault, she probably isn't even aware of what's going on — but it could still be her."

Now Peter was definitely feeling a little sick. He didn't want to think of Mia in that way. He'd known to some degree of what she went through in the Crucible and in DC, she'd explained how her protocol thing worked. But that it was actually happening right now? That he couldn't do anything about it? Peter felt like he was tearing up from the inside out.

"If we find her, are we even capable of saving her?" Jonas asked. He'd been floating back in forth in what Peter assumed to be the android form of an anxious pace. And it was a valid question. Not even Peter knew the answer, so they both looked to the twins.

Wanda and Pietro shared looks, before Wanda answered. "Maybe. If I can reach her. I can sense that she's been here, but with her state of mind it's difficult to get a lock. She's… in and out. And getting fainter. Even if we do find her, it won't be pretty."

"She will attack us right away," Pietro added, giving both of them a serious look. "She won't recognize you. She will try to kill you with everything she has. Even if it kills her, too. Unless and until she's ordered to stop."

"Which she likely won't be," Wanda finished.

Peter felt the blood drain from his face. He'd seen Mia in her protocol state only once, two years ago. In the airport, after she contacted him how she'd get home. It had been like staring into the eyes of a stranger.

But she had run from him then. Mia had been scared and confused and just wanted to go home.

It would be different this time. Peter tried to steel his nerves to that fact, but still couldn't fully wrap his head around it. "There's no other way?"

"Not unless we catch her by surprise, knock her out somehow," Pietro said, but made a face. "Which will also be difficult. She's hard to sneak up on."

"And harder to knock out," Wanda said. "I could do it, but it would also risk hurting her. I doubt she could hurt Jonas, but we can't underestimate her, either. We don't know what she'll be armed with. And who will be helping her."

"The man who took her, you think he has more allies?" Jonas asked.

"Likely," Pietro nodded, his heel trailing a circle in the dirt, leaning against the ledge of the building. "Pulling off the attack in New York, the bombing, the electrical blowout, it all points to an organized team effort. He has resources, and he has men."

"They may be HYDRA," Wanda said, and when she got curious looks, she shrugged and flushed. She pulled her shawl tight around her shoulders, though it was a warm day out."It's just a guess. But they would be the only people left with access to Mia's protocol trigger. If they aren't HYDRA, then they certainly got their secrets from them. And that makes them no less dangerous."

"Cool," Peter said, rubbing his hands together to get some feeling back into his fingers. They'd gone numb. "Cool cool cool cool. We got this. We totally got this. Right?"

The twins gave him sympathetic looks, and Jonas sighed. "I suppose we better not inform Howie of our plans?"

"We better not," Wanda cut a look around the group, as if daring them otherwise.. "He's too young, and his suit needs to be fixed before he even thinks about entering a fight."

"He'll also feel left out," Pietro pointed out, which was by far the biggest motivator.

"He will be mad when he finds out," Jonas nodded sagely.

They searched high and low, all over Geneva. Where they could go at least. The parts they couldn't, didn't matter — Wanda felt nothing there. Faded, gone. They followed her like detectives followed a bloodhound on a scent.

After a day it was clear that Mia wasn't in the city anymore. But Wanda was sure, so sure she was close by. That she hadn't left the country. Somewhere in the mountains — Switzerland was filled with mountains. Mountains on all sides, snowy white, ragged peaks arcing down to sweeping fields of green and flowers. Just like in The Sound of Music, but less singing and more cows and sheep.

They listen to Wanda's senses, and they ask around. The second and third day they start looking outside the city, and have no choice but to bring Howie with them when they get further and further away from the city. He'd insisted, and even Pietro wouldn't be able to reach him in due time if there was trouble.

At night, they huddled in one hotel or motel or hostel to the next, always changing. Trying to eat and sleep as best they can. Jonas managed to find him a sewing machine and when Peter couldn't sleep, he sewed. He wasn't half-bad, if he did say so himself. But creating a new suit, even with stellar materials that Howie managed to get him, still took time. Thank god Peter memorized his own measurements.

Anything to keep his hands working. Anything to keep his mind off of Mia, and what she was enduring in this moment or the next.

For some reason Mia's presence never fully faded, which to them meant that she and whoever she was with were lingering. There were plenty of towns and villages in the surrounding area. She could be hiding in any one of them, hidden in the mountains. They just have to keep looking.

And they also watched the news. Not that it revealed much. Interpol was making little headway, probably even less. They still thought the attack was by the Winter Soldier, though they didn't actually have physical evidence this time; but did they need it, after the bombing, after the very public escape? Peter hasn't actually seen any sign of Steve or Bucky or anyone who might be on their side. They weren't arrested at least. But the other Avengers were, and probably other folks who Ross didn't want to advertise. Peter always gets the sick feeling they'd be on that Raft if they weren't careful enough.

Further up those mountains they climbed over the days. Closer, higher, to the peaks. At one point, a castle comes into view, a sight that stops the twins in their tracks. Staring at that old stone turrets, hanging off the side of a mountain like a fairy tale dream.

But when asked what was wrong, they only shook their heads and kept moving. At some point they moved off paved roads and ended up on the worn trails of hikers and shepherds, soft trodden dirt winding back and forth in a whimsical manner. It probably would've been fun, and they might have appreciated the views, if it weren't for their mission, and Howie still carrying a cold.

It was morning on the fifth day did Peter start feeling truly hopeless. Yet still Wanda insisted, Mia was here, she was close by, they almost had her.

They were in the middle of the great nowhere, possibly on the border between countries. Total no man's land, of villagers who may have seen a caravan of large black vehicles come by days ago. But they've been seeing a lot of stuff on the TV recently. They couldn't say if these vehicles were government or otherwise.

Peter was starting to give up hope, as they once more trudged up another mountainside. He regretted not volunteering to stay back at the hostel with Howie and watch over him; but Howie insisted he could handle it, and no one else really wanted to sit around doing nothing all day.

"Are you sure she's still here?" Peter's voice broke the silence, his voice painfully loud across a wide open field. His shins and feet were sore from all this walking; it wasn't like there were any buildings to swing from here, and there was so much wide open space that none of them dared use their powers unless it was an emergency. Even atop a goddamn mountain where no one lived.

"I'm sure!" Wanda called back, a little snappy. They walked in single file, taking turns carrying Howie, who was always the first to lose his energy. "She's here, she's close, I can feel it!"

Peter couldn't help but groan. It wasn't like he had any better ideas, but he sure felt stupid doing all of this. Interpol were probably scanning hundreds of hours of security footage, using geo tracking or whatever, finding real evidence that they could make a trail of. Here they were, a bunch of kids following a psychic and hoping she pinged off the right consciousness.

"I don't mean to cause offense," Jonas began, gliding along serenely with Howie in his arms. Seeing that, Peter didn't even know why they took turns. "But you've said the same thing the past couple days, Wanda. It's… not very specific."

Wanda just shook her head and threw out her arms. "I can't tell you anymore than what I can feel. And I can feel that she's close. Just a little longer! And be quiet!"

Easier said than done when Peter wanted to complain some more. He definitely should've brought more water bottles today, they've traveled a lot longer than he anticipated. They were at least five hours from their village, two from the closest one they just passed. All on foot, which probably meant nothing by vehicle. The clouds were lower today, more overcast and windy. The peaks were hidden beneath a wall of puffy white cotton, turning greyer with the hint of a possible storm. Man, Peter hoped it wasn't going to snow all the way up here. It was getting chilly.

Despite the cooler temperatures, plenty of wildlife grew in the area, as green as the summer they were in. Lots of little wild flowers dotting their path. If Peter followed his map correctly, the big old castle was somewhere ahead; they'd gotten closer over the days, though he'd hoped it wouldn't be their actual destination.

Not that he didn't want to find Mia. But a bad guy's lair within a medieval castle? Very cliche.

Still, the map said the place was abandoned, owned by some estate, no one actually living there anymore. None of the locals liked to go near it. So maybe that's where they should look.

A fog blew in at around midday, the humidity changing with the weather. It got a little hard to see ahead, enough that Peter could barely make out Wanda at the head of the line. The wind echoed eerily up here, and it was spooky to hear an animal call and not being able to see it. The great valley vista below them, which Peter had grown familiar with, completely vanished from view. Now it felt like they were walking along the edge of the cliff, their entire world shrunk down to a few meters on either side of them. Peter reminded himself not to stray too far from the trail unless he wanted to meet an untimely death.

Then, without warning, he bumped into Pietro in front of him, who stumbled into Jonas, who bumped into Wanda — she had come to a complete stop. Peter tried to look around them, "Hey, what's —"

"Shh!" Wanda and Pietro hissed at the same time, fingers to their lips. Howie had stirred from his nap, and all five of them squinted through the fog. Peter could just barely make out a dark figure ahead. Tall, bulky, wearing black clothing. Not a shepherd or fellow hiker.

That was enough to scare them. The five stumbled back, then off the trail, behind a large rock in the field a short distance away. Never taking their eyes off of the figure. Peter tried to make out details, but he couldn't even discern if it was a man or a woman. It definitely didn't feel right. The person was standing too still, and there was no vista to admire. What were they doing?

"Probably a sentry," Pietro murmured, his voice so soft Peter had to strain to hear it. "We must be close."

Wanda shushed them again, the wind blowing her hair across her face, made her earrings jingle. The sound was soft and light, hardly to be heard over the rush of the long grass and the wind buffeting the mountainside.

But it helped blow some of the fog away, opening a clearing in their midst. And the figure came into stark contrast before them.

It wasn't a man.

It was Mia.

She stood there, her back to them, looking down at something in her hand. She stood slightly off the main path, knee deep in the tall grass. Her hair, hanging partly loose from a poorly-done braid, whipped in the wind.

Peter felt like the air was knocked out of him. "It's her!" He breathed, shooting to his feet, but no sooner had he tried to take a step forward did Wanda and Pietro grab him, yank him back, holding him down. Peter struggled against them, suddenly desperate.

But Wanda had a vice-like grip on his shoulder. "You can't!" She hissed in his ear. "We can't rush her. She'll startle and attack us."

That, Peter could believe. Even in her normal state, Mia was not someone you wanted to sneak up on. But still, he was baffled. "What's she doing?"

She was just standing there. There didn't seem to be anyone else around. The place was entirely quiet, deserted. It felt like they were observing a wild animal on safari, trying not to disturb it. After a moment, Peter realized what she had in her hand.

A tiny flower, with a dozen thin, furry white petals and a yellow heart, twisting back and forth between her fingers.

Mia, in full combat gear, looking like someone dressed her to blend in with a bunch of evil henchmen with only that red star to set her apart — picking flowers. In the middle of the Swiss Alps.

"I don't understand," Peter whispered helplessly. Mia looked completely harmless. Aside from the many weapons attached to her person, and the shield painted black and red. She wasn't doing anything. "What's with the flower?"

"It's edelweiss," Howie said in an undertone, nodding to those little white flowers that grew in abundance around them. "Leontopodium alpinum. They only grow high up on mountain tops, adapted to survive cold temperatures and harsh climates."

The biology lesson was nice, but it still didn't explain what Mia was doing. But Pietro just shrugged, "She's probably just… waiting."

"Waiting? For what?"

"Orders." Pietro replied, his gaze hard and flat, which quickly ended any further questions Peter might have had.

"She can be… aimless, sometimes," Wanda added helpfully, watching Mia with concern. "I can't quite touch her mind. But sometimes when she's on a mission, and she's left with nothing to do… things can happen. Just small stuff. She'll get distracted."

"What, like a machine left to idle?" Peter already regretted saying that, it sounded so awful.

But Wanda just shrugged, not offended. "Maybe. Protocol has its limits. Its why they put the Winter Soldier on ice. He's not meant to be operating at all times. They start to lose control."

The sound of that, Peter got a little hopeful. "And how long does that take?"

"A few months or so," Pietro replied, killing Peter's hope, and then killing it a little further, "Or so we've heard. We've never actually seen it. Mia always needed a… reboot about as long, in the Crucible."

Peter didn't want to think about that. Mia was in that Crucible for two years. Two whole years! He didn't want to think about what a "reboot" entailed. Still, he could not take his eyes off of Mia. How she studied that flower. He wondered what she was thinking, what she saw, what made her pluck it.

She had to still be inside.

She had to be.

Peter doesn't know what compelled him, why he tried to get up again. But Wanda and Pietro fight against him once more, and in the scuffle they must have made some amount of noise.

Because Mia turned her head.

And looked right at them.

The five of them freeze, hearts pounding, breaths held. Empty gray eyes gaze at them, little white flower in her hand momentarily forgotten. Peter is suddenly highly aware of the several guns and many knives that are on her person. Remembered how quickly she can move, how hard she could hit. Remembers how he really struggled to beat her in a one-on-one, no holds barred spar. And really, she'd been holding back then.

But instead of rushing at them like Baba Yaga with a gun, Mia just… stared at them. Continued to stare. Not even the twins dared to say anything. A group of antelopes in a staredown with a lion, wondering who would blink first.

"Hey, die Sau!" someone shouted in the distance, further along the path. Someone they couldn't see past the rock or the thickening fog. Angry, male, German, something Peter couldn't understand. "Was machst du da drüben? Komm hierher! Der Baron braucht dich."

The voice echoed, and Mia snapped her head around. Like she completely forgot they were there, she just turned and walked away. Away, towards the voice.

None of them moved until she had disappeared once more.

At last, Peter could release a breath. "What the hell was that about? Why didn't she do anything?"

"I don't know," Wanda frowned.

"Perhaps it's her protocol," Jonas suggested, setting Howie down for a moment as they got their bearings once more. No one emerged from the fog, though Peter could now hear movement, distance voices further along the path. "Her protocol is complex, but she can only follow given orders. Perhaps she had nothing that pertained to us."

"Jonas is probably right," Pietro said with a nod. "Maybe there's a gap they forgot to cover."

"They did not think we'd get this close," Howie suggested. "Or that they'd have to deal with us at all."

"We also didn't approach her," Wanda pointed out. "That would have elicited a response more than anything. She simply didn't interpret us as a threat, so she did nothing."

"We have to follow her," Peter urged, already getting to his feet. "Wherever they're taking her, we can't lose track."

"It's going to be dangerous," Wanda said. "They'll likely take us straight to their current base of operations. And we haven't come completely prepared."

"We can't turn back now!" Peter insisted, gesturing down the path. "IF we come back later, she might be gone! At least follow her until we know where they've stopped. Then we can come back when we're ready to save her. But I can't lose her now. Not when we're so close."

The other four exchanged looks, then nodded. "Fine," Pietro said, folding his arms. "But this is reconnaissance only. We stay unseen. And Howie? Please don't sneeze."

Howie gave a tiny salute, and together, the five of them were off again, trailing back into the fog.

Back to Mia.