Chapter 36: A Devil on the Shoulder

"The List?" Thera said, in the silence that followed, "What could Pexley possibly want with the List?"

Keame inclined his head, "Surely you know the answer to that, sir. After all, why do you want it?"

Thera's gaze went flat. "Why do I want it? Because I have a lot of Blipped children who need to be reunited with their parents!"

"Of course, and if Pexley were to take possession of it, I'm sure he'd be more than willing to accommodate you. In return for…remuneration, of course."

"He wants people to pay for the location of their loved ones?"

"Information is power, sir, especially in these turbulent times. Pexley might appear to be a brutish thug, but he understands a lot more than you might think."

"That's a low bar to clear."

"Perhaps," Keame smiled thinly. "A short while ago, he floated the concept of a 'priority' service. Those able to pay would have their loved ones located and returned as soon as possible, while those who can't…"

"He'd keep them locked up?"

"Of course not! The government would never allow it!" said Keame, "But you know how many are currently lost in the system. How easy would it be for someone to just…never be found?"

"That's the same damn thing!" Thera snapped.

"Only if it can be proven," said Keame, "And besides, I'm sure that both law enforcement and civil servants could be…persuaded to look the other way. Almost everybody lost someone in the Snap."

"I think I see where you're going with this," I said, grimly, "If he has the List, he has control."

"Precisely, madam," Keame said, "After all, if it were your children lost in some far-flung Blip Centre, what would it be worth to you to have them returned safely?"

"Everything I have," I said, with barely a pause.

"Everything?"

"Everything."

"As I thought," he said, "But of course, money isn't the only currency."

I gave him a sharp look, "What do you mean by that?"

"If not money, what would your children be worth? Would you be prepared to give a speech on his behalf, perhaps?"

"I…" I exchanged an unhappy look with Clint, "Yes, I would. I'd hate myself, but…they're our kids."

"And you, Hawkeye? What would you do?"

"I ain't sayin', but I get the picture," Clint said, "Either everyone dances to Pexley's tune, or they never see their loved ones again."

"Or worse."

"Bulgakov," I said, grimly, "Or the Bennetts. Blackmail, torture, or murder."

"So you understand why the List must be kept out of his hands, then? I can't stop him alone, but you-"

"-hold it right there, please," I held up my hand, and looked at Clint and Thera, "Guys? Conference."

Without waiting for a response, I got to my feet and stalked off towards the boardroom table. Damnit! I'd been so sure we'd be able to talk him into submission, but what had he done? He'd 'listened to our concerns', he'd apologised, and then he'd pulled the rug out from under us with an almost casual flick of the wrist. How had he done that? I wasn't sure when he'd taken control of the situation, but it was as if he was rewriting the script almost as fast as I could read it. I needed a moment, just to breathe, find my footing, and get my head back in the game. No way could I do that with him breathing down my neck.

I sighed, and sat down heavily on one of the comfortable-looking chairs. It yielded at my touch; hard, but not too hard, and some of the frustration drained away as I leant back and massaged my temples. What to do, what to do…

"You okay?" Clint squeezed my shoulder, and sat down on the chair next to me.

"I'm great. Absolutely fine," I said shortly, and looked up at Thera, "Is there a way you can keep Keame from listening in? Like a spell?"

"Nothing so coarse, but sure," the mystic's eyes went distant as his fingers tapped and danced through the air. The air shimmered, and turned a faint golden hue, "Some acoustic shielding should do the trick…"

"Still cheatin'," muttered Clint.

"'Says the guy who used to use Mufflers."

"Not now, guys!" I snapped, "Sorry. It's just that I thought everything was going so well! Now…"

"Don't worry about it, hon," Clint said reassuringly, "No plan survives contact with the enemy."

"Half the time they barely survive contact with your friends," Thera agreed, as he hopped up on the edge of the table, "Never mind that…that weasel!"

"No kiddin'," said Clint, "It's pretty obvious what he wants us to do, too; he wants us to make his problems go away."

"Yeah, by fighting Blacknest in a no-holds-barred battle royale?" Thera snorted, "No thanks. I'll pass."

"But…" I paused, "...what if that means Pexley destroys the refinery?"

"Pexley's not going to destroy the refinery, Laura."

"What? But Keame said-"

"I know what Keame said, but look at this place! It's huge!" Thera gestured animatedly out the window, "You can't just blow a place like this up overnight! You need the building schematics, you'll need explosives, specialists, probably some warning signs…look, it'd take him months and cost millions!"

"If you do it right," Clint pointed out, "But he could do a lot of damage with even just a couple bombs, if they were in the right place."

"Enough to shut everything down? For good?"
"How would I know? I'm not a plant engineer!"

"It's not like it matters, anyway," Thera shook his head, "With the best will in the world, we're three people, four if we call in Vi, and two of us are non-combatants. If Pexley wants to start randomly blowing things up, I'm not sure there's a whole lot we can do to stop him."

"But…" I floundered, "We have to do something!"

"Do we? Why?"

"Because Keame's right!" I said, "If we let Pexley run amok, what's that going to mean for people like Bill? Or his family?"

"Laura, I've risked my life for a lot of things. A lot of stupid things, for that matter, but that doesn't mean I'm going to walk into concentrated small-arms fire just so your mate doesn't have to dust off his CV!"

"I hate to say it, but he's got a point," Clint said, "I might be an Avenger, but even I've got my limits."

"But…" I paused, giving time for my brain to catch up with my mouth. Sure, I liked Bill and Patti, or at least kind of liked them, and Lila definitely needed more friends her age, but…was I really suggesting that we try to stand up to Blacknest? That wasn't philanthropy; that was suicide! "You're right. Of course you're right. What am I thinking?"

"It ain't your fault, hon," Clint said, "Keame's a pro. He knew we were coming and he knew what we were comin' for. He's had hours to think about how to get under your skin."

"Well…" I shifted uncomfortably, "It's working!"

"Of course it is. After all those speeches you've given about 'community' an' stuff like that, it's pretty obvious what makes you tick."

"Yeah, but me? Why me?"

"'Cause you stole the show from him in St. Louis?" said Clint, "If I were him, I'd be thinkin' that if I can convince you, you can convince us. If nothing else, it's the only way he'd be able to get Thera onside."

"What, with Keame?" Thera snorted, "You're having a giraffe, mate. No way am I teaming up with that guy!"

"Exactly. But what if Laura asked you?"

"Well…"

I took a long, deep breath, and their conversation faded into the background as I thought. Was Clint right? Probably. Ever since we'd arrived I'd felt distinctly off balance, and Keame clearly knew exactly what to say. Had he planned this, or was he just a quick thinker with an opportunistic streak? It was hard to say, but I'd been this close to falling under his spell. No wonder he'd amassed such a devoted following.

The trouble was…he was right. Even if Pexley couldn't destroy the whole refinery, the damage he could do would hit the local area hard. Even so, that would probably pale in comparison to what he could do with the List. Priority reunions for the wealthy, blackmailing people of interest…with the right pressure, applied to the right people, he could amass the kind of money and influence that Simon could have only dreamed of. Never mind the local area; the whole of Missouri could be under threat, and…then what? Surely we weren't the only state that had a List, right? My blood ran cold with the implications.

There was something else, however, a nagging feeling in the back of my mind that we didn't have the whole story. If the situation was really as hopeless as Keame had said, why was he still here? Bullheaded stubbornness? A misguided sense of honour? We'd seen both in St. Louis, but for some reason that didn't seem to fit. Maybe he really did think we could stop Pexley, or maybe he'd been driven over the edge by a mixture of desperation and guilt. That I could believe, and it'd be easy to say he wasn't thinking straight, but…

"...that aside, I smell a rat," Thera practically finished my thought for me. "A lot of rats, actually."

"You too?" Clint leaned in. "Go on; what're you thinkin'?"

"Well, for starters, why're we his first, last, and only line of defence? Why hasn't he called the police, or the civil defence force?"

"You mean the National Guard?"

"Yeah, them! If this place is as important as he claims, wouldn't they want to know that there's a band of rogue mercenaries descending on it like some kind of post-apocalyptic raiding party?"

"That's true," I said, "But they'd probably also want to know why."

"You think they'd open an investigation?"

"For sure," I nodded, and then a thought struck me, "Wait; didn't Pexley say that Keame was 'up to his neck' in this as well? Maybe Pexley has something on him."

"Or maybe he's hopin' that this'll make all his problems go away," Clint said, and added darkly, "Us included."

"C'mon," I said dubiously, "You really think we're a problem?"

"'Course we are. At the very least, you're a political threat," Clint said, "Meanwhile, Thera's buzzin' about tellin' everyone what's really going on at those Blip Centres, and Vi literally threatened to kill him, so…"

"You think he wants us and Pexley to annihilate each other?"

"Maybe, maybe not, but don't you think it'd be real convenient?" Clint said, "No more loose ends. Nobody to stop him."

"From doing what?"

"Beats me," Clint shrugged, "Maybe he wants to steal Pexley's idea?"

"Actually, about that…" Thera said, "Tell me, Clint; on a good day, how long do you think it'd take you to track down and eliminate someone like Pexley?"

Clint rubbed his chin, thoughtfully, "How much of a headstart does he have?"

"Let's say twelve hours, give or take."

"If I called in some favours, took some time to scout the hideout, plan the hit…" there was a pause, presumably while Clint carried out some internal calculations, "A week?"

Thera's eyebrows rose, "That long?"

"If I'm gonna kill him, I'm gonna do it right. Up close and personal."

"If you know where he is, why not just blow him up?"

"'Cause it's sloppy, and there's almost always collateral," Clint winced at some distant memory, "An' sometimes that collateral comes back years later lookin' for revenge. Nat learned that one the hard way."

"That sounds like a fun story," Thera said, with just a hint of irony, "Still, four hours ago he was desperate to make some quick cash and skip town, so why does Keame think he wants to set up a bloody business? There's no way he'd survive long enough to reap the rewards!"

"That's a…good point, actually," I said, with a certain amount of grudging respect, "You really kept your ears open, didn't you?"

"Not really, it's just that smooth talking bastards always make me suspicious," he said, and quickly added, "Present company excepted, of course."

"Gee, thanks," I said, "So, what're we going to do? Grab the List, grab Keame, and run? Leave the refinery to Pexley?"

"Sounds good to me," said Clint, and Thera nodded in agreement.

"Right. In that case-"

A flicker of light caught my eye, and then the boardroom monitor blazed to life. It wobbled once, and as it resolved I found myself staring at a spreadsheet. In fact, it was the same program that I used to manage the family finances, but while my workbooks only had depressingly small numbers, this one showed an array of names, addresses, ages, genders-

"Oh my god," I whispered, as realisation dawned, "It's the List."

-scrolling slowly downwards, an endless list of Missourians who had fallen victim to Thanos' madness. It was just like the Memorial, a seemingly infinite forest of silvery pillars stretching off into the distance, and a start reminder of the unimaginable devastation of the Snap.

"Yeah," Clint said hoarsely, "But why now?"

Thera tore his gaze from the screen and looked over his shoulder. "We can ask him if you want. He's coming this way."

I turned. Keame was approaching, slowly and cautiously, and in his hands he held a small, wireless keyboard. His expression was carefully controlled, almost totally unreadable, and once again I felt the thrill of uncertainty deep inside. With an effort I forced myself to be calm; whatever he was planning, I was going to be ready for it.

Thera waved a hand, and the air shimmered. "What's going on, Keame?"

Keame set his keyboard down carefully on the table. "Surely I don't need to tell you what this is, do I?"

"Of course not," Thera said, "But why're you showing us now? What happened to all those 'privacy concerns' of yours?"

"A thought occurred," he glanced at me. "Tell me, madam, in the days immediately following the Blip, did you receive a care package? Some food, perhaps, or spare clothing?"

"...yes," I said, hesitantly, "The morning after, in fact. Why?"

Keame's expression remained unchanged, but even so I thought I detected a faint sense of…triumph? Satisfaction? Whatever it was, it was faint, but it was definitely there.

"Mmm. That's what I was afraid of."
"Why?"

"Immediately after the Blip, the then-Wilfred Keame Foundation worked with the Missouri State government to hand out packages to those who had…just returned," Keame tapped briefly on his keyboard, and the spreadsheet blurred as it scrolled through hundreds of thousands of names, "Of course, if you received a package, that must mean-"

The screen froze, revealing row after row of victims with the surname 'Barton'. A sick feeling settled in the pit of my stomach as I scanned frantically through the names, hoping against hope that it didn't show what I already knew to be there-

"Sixth from the bottom, Laura," Thera murmured, "Starting with Clint."

-but there we were, just like we'd been on the monument; Clint, Cooper, Laura, Lila, and Nathaniel. Our names, our ages, and…

"How'd you get our address, Keame?" Clint demanded, "Nobody's supposed to know that!"

"I assure you, sir, I had nothing to do with this," Keame held up his hands, "How could I? This list was assembled after my death."

"It must've been Maisie. For the memorial," I said quietly, "She probably didn't think it mattered anymore."

"Yeah, you're probably right," Clint said gruffly, "So what're you waiting for, Keame? Delete it, now!"

"I cannot," Keame said, quite calmly.

"What?"

"The List is not mine, strictly speaking. It's held by the government, and I'm only granted access through my son's charity. Nobody, except government officials, are permitted to make alterations."

"So how's Pexley going to get access to it, then?"

"Pexley is intimately involved with the Simon Keame Foundation, unfortunately," Keame said, "I have revoked his position, of course, but my IT director remains on compassionate leave. It won't be until tomorrow that he's actually locked out."

"Okay…" I stared at the screen, stared at our names, and felt a fragile calm settle over me, "So…if Pexley came here, he'd be able to access the List?"

"Yes."

"With our home address on it?"

"Yes."

"And there's absolutely no way you can prevent this? There's no way we can contact anyone in government to get their names removed?"

"Not until tomorrow. It is Sunday evening, after all."

"Of course it is," I smiled brightly, "And you'll think he'll use it to find out where they live?"

"I think…" Keame hesitated, "I think that Pexley is a cruel and vindictive man. He will be seeking revenge on me for terminating Blacknest, of course, but he will also want to destroy everyone he views as a threat."

"So…" Thera paused, "Clint, Laura, Vi, and myself?"

"Indeed."

"But there's thousands of 'Bartons' on that list! You think he's going to go door-to-door until he finds them?"

"He won't need to," Keame said, "In Laura's speech she revealed that she and her family were Snapped, with the sole exception of her husband. During the…fracas that followed, Ronin revealed that the famously private Hawkeye, a.k.a. Clint Barton, is both married and has a family, all of whom were taken. It doesn't require a particularly great intellect to connect those two pieces of information."

"Damnit, Vi!" Clint growled.

"I assure you, Hawkeye," Keame said, "If he gains access to the List, Pexley will have more than enough data to divine the identities of your children and your primary residence. There will be certain individuals who would consider that information…valuable. After all, I suspect you have almost as many enemies as Ronin, do you not?"

"I guess that explains how Pexley hopes to get rich quick," Thera muttered, "Second time's the charm, right?"

"So just to be sure I understand…" I said, "Either we stay and help you stop Pexley, or he'll use the List to track us down at a later date?"

"Either him or someone else, yes."

"If I didn't know better, sir, I'd say that's blackmail."

Clint took one look at my tranquil expression, my too-serene smile, and carefully eased himself backwards. Thera's fingers tensed on the tabletop.

"Hardly. If it were within my power to remove that information, I would do so without hesitation," Keame said, "But until tomorrow, my hands are tied-"

The serenity shattered, blasted to pieces by a wellspring of pure, animalistic rage that rose up from somewhere deep and dark. With a snarl I surged to my feet and punched Keame as hard as I could right in his carefully controlled face. Pain jolted down my arm, numbing it to the elbow, but it was nothing compared to the satisfying crack of my knuckles driving deep into the bridge of his nose. Blood spurted and with a cry of pain he staggered backwards into a chair, holding his keyboard up as if it were a shield.

"Your hands are tied?" I screamed, and with a well placed kick I spun the chair until it was facing the screen, "Pexley is coming for our children and your hands are tied?"

"My nose!" Keame cried, spraying blood down his shirt, "You broke my nose!"

"That's not the only thing I'm going to break, Keame!" I wrenched the keyboard from his hands and smashed it down on the table, scattering keys this way and that, "If Pexley hurts so much as a single hair on their heads, you're going to wish he'd given you to Miller to play with!"

"Goddess, Laura-" Thera began, but I cut him dead with a withering look.

"Don't you dare 'Goddess' me!" I snarled, "Not after everything he's put us through!"

"I'm…I'm sorry!" Keame said desperately, as I advanced on him again, "But listen, if we can just drive Pexley off-"

"We can't drive Pexley off, you idiot!" I shouted, "You know why? Because he knows that if he can't get enough money to disappear, then Clint and Ronin are going to track him down and make a freaking example of him! Don't you get it? He can't back down!"

"But-" Keame's expression twisted to one of horrified realisation, "That would mean-"

"That we're stuck in a fight to the death against the whole of Blacknest?" I yelled, and he shrank back against the leather, "Do you understand? Do you see what you've done? Our kids-"

"No! This isn't my fault!" he cried, "This isn't what I wanted!"

I leaned in menacingly, "Then what did you want?"

"Justice! I wanted to unmask my son's killer and…" Keame's gaze flickered to Thera, "...make them pay for his death. I wanted Ronin to feel what I'd felt."

"That's not justice," I said, coldly, "That's revenge."

"You're right. I wanted revenge…or at least I thought I wanted revenge."

"That's not the first time you've said that," Thera observed, "What do you mean?"

I whirled to face him, "Christ, Thera! It doesn't matter!"

"It matters to me," he said firmly, "Let him speak."

I wavered. Part of me, the part still consumed by incandescent fury, wanted nothing more than to just lay into Keame for everything he'd done. After all, without his money, his support, Pexley would be nothing more than a two-bit thug, scrabbling around in the gutter for scraps! If something happened to my children…if anything happened to them-

"Laura?" Thera repeated. "Please."

"...fine!" I pushed off Keame's chair, and stepped back to Clint, "Do what you want!"

"How generous of you," Thera said, with a slight twitch of his eyebrow, "Now, Keame. You said you wanted to make Vi suffer?"

"I wanted Ronin to suffer," Keame said, still watching me warily, "I had no idea who she really was."

"Would it have mattered?"

"...no," Keame conceded, "No, sir, it wouldn't. After I was told he'd been murdered…I was consumed with grief and anger. I would've dealt with the devil himself if he'd promise to bring Ronin to justice."

"You kind of did."

"I know, but it seemed so easy at the time," he said distantly, "He told me he knew exactly how to find out Ronin's identity. All he needed was some…financial assistance."

Thera rolled his eyes, "Of course."
"I shouldn't have said 'yes'," Keame said, and bit his lip, "Every cell in my body was screaming at me to walk away, but…I agreed. I don't know why I agreed, but I did. He had the men, and I secured a contract with Hammer Industries for weapons and other equipment. It went against everything I believed in, but…I had to know who Ronin really was. I had to."

"So what changed?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"You said you only thought you wanted revenge," Thera said, "What made you change your mind?"

"It was…" Keame looked at me, and smiled ever so slightly, "It was you, Laura."

My eyes narrowed, "Me?"

"Your speech, in St. Louis. You said that the Blip 'couldn't be fixed'."

"Yeah?" I said, and added angrily, "Well, I seem to remember you had a thing or two to say about that!"

"I did, madam, but the truth is…you were right," he said, "I think, like you, I was desperate for someone to tell me that this was all a bad dream, or that it could somehow be undone. When nobody came forward, I decided I had no choice but to take up the mantle."

I glowered. "And drive us all further apart with that Blip Supremacy bullshit?"

"I assure you, that was not my intention! At least…not at first."

"Then what was your 'intention'?"

"To help people," he said simply, "My family have always believed that our good fortune comes with a duty to help those less fortunate. My grandfather supported war widows, Father used to believe in reforming convicts, and I thought the Blip was my opportunity to make my mark. I thought that by 'fixing' it, I could live up to the family name and…and…"

"And what?"

"I thought…" Keame hesitated, and I was surprised to see a slight glistening in his eyes, "I thought that if I could force the world to act as if nothing had happened, then everything would somehow revert to how it was. I cannot tell you the number of times I've dreamt of coming home, walking in the front door, and Simon would be there waiting…"

"Yeah," Clint said gruffly, and I gently took his hand, "I know exactly what you mean."

"I'm sure you do, sir," Keame said, "Of course, I knew inside that he was gone forever, of course, but it was just as Laura said; living the delusion was easier than facing up to reality. It was…seductive, and I made sure to surround myself with people who would entertain such ridiculous notions."

"Like Pexley?"

"Like Pexley."

"Okay…so you went crazy after the Blip. Join the club," said Thera, with a wry look at myself and Clint, "But that doesn't explain why you changed your mind!"

"Because in reality, I never wanted revenge!" Keame said, "I realised that all my anger was-"

"Guilt," I said suddenly. I had a horrible feeling I knew exactly where this was headed, "You felt guilty, didn't you."

"I did, madam. I still do. If I could have anything in the world, all I would wish is to talk with Simon one last time. To apologise."

"Apologise? Why?"

"Because I wasn't there for him. I couldn't stop him!"

"There wasn't anything you could've done," said Thera, in a surprisingly gentle tone, "You were dead."

"Then I should have been a better father!" Keame flared, and for just a moment I could see through the veneer of careful control to the emotions roiling just beneath, "I tried to help him; I tried everything I could, but maybe if I'd spent less time here and more time at home with him, then maybe he wouldn't have gone down such a dark path. Maybe Ronin wouldn't have had to-"

He choked, suddenly, and leaned heavily on the table, shielding his eyes with his hands. His shoulders trembled violently, and as we looked on, an unpleasant, rattling noise came from somewhere deep in his throat. With some shock, I realised he was crying.

"She was right," he said, between sobs, "I knew exactly what Simon was like, but I loved him anyway! If he could have just seen how much I loved him…"

As Keame wept, the fires raging inside me began to wane. I wanted to stay angry; in fact, part of me wanted nothing more than to stoke the flames of righteous fury and twist the knife as hard as I could. After all, this man and his unrelenting quest for 'justice' hadn't just put my children in danger, but the whole of Missouri! Bulgakov had been tortured! Poppy had been kidnapped! Why shouldn't he feel the pain that he'd caused through his own careless actions?

But…I couldn't. Whatever Keame had been before, or whatever he'd been trying to accomplish, right now he was a broken man. A parent, grieving for a son who he'd loved despite what he'd become. Through the dying embers of my fury flooded a wave of empathy and sympathy, and out of the corner of my eye I could see Clint quickly wiping something off his cheek. If anyone understood the pain Keame was going through, it had to be him.

Thera looked briefly at Clint, then at myself, and then rolled his eyes skyward in silent prayer.

"Goddess, forgive me," he murmured, and knelt beside the magnate's chair. His hand came to life with a faint glow, and Keame leaned backwards in response, "Stop squirming! I'm trying to fix your nose!"

"I…sorry," Keame said, as the mystic got to work, "I've just never thought-"

"Yeah, that's your problem," Thera said sharply, but then he sighed, "Listen, Reginald; in my twelve years of service, I've seen a lot of miracles. I've seen a child carried out of a collapsed building days after we'd given up hope, I've seen patients make impossible recoveries from terminal illnesses, and I've watched a deeply traumatised woman piece the fragments of her psyche back together to become the most amazing person I've ever met, but do you know what I've never seen?"

Keame looked at Thera with bleary, tear-stained eyes, "What?"

"I've never seen someone just… love someone better," Thera said, "No matter how much love you poured into Simon, the only way he could've gotten better was if he'd wanted to. Whatever he did, and whatever he became… it wasn't your fault."

"Could you have helped him?" Keame said, reaching out for Thera with a pleading look in his eyes. "With your powers?"

Thera looked taken aback. "My powers?"

"Yes! I know what you did for Peter Bulgakov, so surely my son-"

"There's nothing I could've done for your son. I'm sorry."

"But couldn't you have fixed him?"

"He wasn't broken, Keame," said Thera, "He was just wired differently. Even if I could figure out the wiring…no. I wouldn't."

"Why not?"

"Because how would we know when he's 'fixed'?" Thera looked up, and suddenly his gaze was boring into me. "When he did what we wanted? Thought what we wanted? He wouldn't be Simon anymore, he'd just be some kind of…puppet! Do you really think I'd do something like that? To anyone?"

"I…um…-" I stuttered guiltily, as I fried under his unblinking stare. Had he known all along? Really? But how could he-

"But sir," Keame's voice was a welcome and merciful distraction. "You could save people's lives."

The mystic looked at me for just a moment more, and then said, "Maybe it's just me, but I don't see how erasing someone and replacing them with someone you like better is anything other than murder. Count me out."

"There may be some truth to what you say, sir," Keame conceded, "And I suppose the question is academic at this point."

"Just a bit," said Thera, "But you still haven't said what you want. If you don't want revenge anymore, then what?"

"I…" Keame hesitated, "I'd like to meet Ronin."

Thera inclined his head, "That's it?"

"Yes; I want to meet the woman who murdered my son. Could you arrange that?"

"May I ask why?"

"I imagined Ronin to be no more than a well-trained thug, killing people for the sheer joy of it," Keame said, and I heard Clint mutter something under his breath. "But she was different. Not what I expected."

"How so?"

"She was driven, articulate, and she showed me mercy. I didn't expect that," Keame said, and his lips quirked. "She seems like an…interesting individual."

"Oh, she's certainly that," Thera agreed, "So you want to talk to her because she's 'interesting'?"

"I would like to hear her side of the story," Keame said, "Maybe it will bring me some measure of closure."

"Hmm. Fine," Thera said, "Then I'll want something in return."

Keame's eyebrows went up. "And what would that be?"

"Everything you have on the children in Blip Centre 43," he said, and then added, "Oh, and a kid named Alvin Bennett. It shouldn't take you long to dig all of that out, right?"

"But-"

"And don't give me any of that rubbish about 'privacy concerns', either. Not after you brought up the List just to make a point," Thera said, "Look, this way we both get something we want. I get my kids out from under Pexley's thumb, and you get closure. Everyone wins."

"I…suppose, yes," Keame paused, and then nodded, "I-"

My phone buzzed once, loudly, and then Inky's voice echoed across the conference table.

"Perimeter alert! Multiple vehicles detected on approach vector!"

"What is that?" Keame exclaimed, "Some kind of artificial intelligence?"

"Wrong on both counts," Thera said briskly. "Is it Blacknest, Inky?"

"Additional data is required, but that is a logical inference. Clyde reports approximately twenty large, black vehicles, approaching our location at speeds significantly in excess of local limits."

"Yeah, that kinda sounds like Blacknest," Clint said, "How long until they're here?"

"Based upon current speed and distance, their ETA is ten minutes."

"Right; we're out of time. All we can do is make ready as best we can," Clint got to his feet, his expression sharp and serious, "Keame, how easy would it be for Pexley to access this List?"

"He would need to be inside the facility, but if he can connect to the wireless…" Keame paused, "Yes. He'd be able to access a copy from there."

"Okay. Step one; we'll need to turn off the network. I can't imagine it'll stop 'em for long, but it might just buy us some time," Clint said. "Step two; we deactivate that Arachnid."

"The Arachnid? Why? It's the one thing that might be able to stop Blacknest!"

"'Cause it's an unexploded bomb, that's why!" Clint's gaze shifted briefly to Thera, and then back to Keame, "Those power cells Hammer're using…they're not stable."

"You can't be serious."

"He's right!" I said, "You remember that massive explosion two days ago? That was one of your fancy toys going up, and that only had a single power cell. That Arachnid has eight!"
"Yeah," Clint said, "It'd be the end of you, me, this refinery, an' everything in a six mile radius."

"Seven," corrected Inky.

"What she said."

"And you're quite certain about this?" Keame said, and then his expression became set, "Very well. I will admit to knowing very little about these weapons systems, but Hammer Industries did give me direct control over their activities. I can issue a shut-down order from any computer in the building."

"Good," Clint said, and extended a hand to pull Keame to his feet, "You an' me are going to go shut off that network an' the Arachnid, and then I'm going to go grab the last of my arrows from the car before Blacknest arrives."

"What about us?" I asked.

"Call Vi," he said shortly, "And then get yourselves downstairs. We'll need to find somewhere safe for you before the shooting starts."

Clint and Keame left, leaving Thera and I to stare worriedly at one another. Quickly, I dug Hughes' phone out of my back pocket and flicked through its call history to find my number. It was right there, the second-to-last entry, but despite knowing it was my number it still felt strange to me. Alien, almost.

"You okay there?" Thera said, clearly catching my expression, "I know this isn't where we wanted to be-"

"-but it's where we're at," I said shortly, "I just can't believe that Keame managed to box us in like that! How'd he do it?"

"By accident?"

"That's just it! Was it an accident?" I pressed my lips together in frustration, "Clint was right; this is all way too convenient for my liking. We're stuck fighting Pexley, and no matter what happens Keame gets to walk away with his refinery intact!"

"Not if Pexley kills him."

"You think he wouldn't trade the List for his life? Or for his refinery?" I threw a glare over my shoulder. "We're being thrown under the bus so he doesn't have to face the consequences of his actions!"

"Yeah, there's a lot of that going around at the moment," Thera said, with a slight grin, "So, we gonna call Vi?"

"Are you sure about this?"

"We need her, Laura," said Thera, "And unless there's another Avenger nearby-"

"No, I mean…do you trust Keame? What if he's planning to kill her?"

"If he is, then he'll be bitterly disappointed. And besides…" Thera's grin turned sly. "...it's not like you have grounds to complain about trust, Laura. Talk about the pot calling the kettle black."

"I…you-" I started, and felt my cheeks prickle with sudden heat, "That's not- I mean-"

"For shame, Laura. For shame. And I thought we were friends!"

"We are friends! You…you- wait," I stopped. He was still grinning. "You're not angry?"

Thera snorted. "C'mon mate, I'm not a rookie! I know exactly how loopy people can get when they're staring their own death in the face. It's like I told you; your reasons are your own, and I have to respect them. Even if they are brain-meltingly stupid."

"I suppose I deserve that," I said, and grimaced shamefully, "I'm sorry. I should've trusted you, and-"

"-if you need to apologise to anyone, it's your family. For, y'know, almost getting yourself killed in the pursuit of brain-melting stupidity," Thera shrugged, "Look, it's been a long day, a lot's happened, and we're all really stressed out and not thinking straight. How about we just leave it there, okay?"

I smiled, "Okay."

"But just for the record? You are an idiot."

"I- '' Whatever smart rejoinder I had lined up, it was interrupted by the sudden, harsh buzz of Hughes' phone vibrating in my hand. I barely stifled a yelp of surprise, and looked down curiously at the screen. Who was it? One of Pexley's goons? Pexley himself?
"Who is it?" Thera frowned.

"It's…um, it's my number," I said, after just a moment's pause. It still didn't look quite real, "Oh! It must be Vi!"

"So…you want to answer it?" Thera said, "You're probably looking at the result of several minutes work, right there."

"When all this is done, you two are going to night school," I said, as I accepted the call and put it on speaker, "You're less tech-savvy than my mom."

"Hi, Sparky!" Vi's voice rang through the phone, and Thera's gaze softened, "You alright?"

"Well, um…"

"That doesn't sound good. What's wrong?" Vi said, and then her voice filled with concern. "Wait a second, Laura isn't-"

"No, Laura's alive and kicking. Punching, too," Thera said, "She damn near sparked out Keame."

"Really? Without waiting for me?"

"There were…extenuating circumstances."

"I'll bet. How's her hand?"

Thera gave my hand a cursory glance, "Better than Keame's face. I'll have to sort it out before Blacknest gets here."

"...I'm sorry, sweetie, but could you repeat that?" Vi said, "Because it sounded suspiciously like something extremely stupid. You're waiting for Blacknest?"

"We don't have much of a choice," Thera said, "It looks like…well, it looks like that drawing of yours might be back on the table."

"What?" Vi gasped. "But how? We destroyed #273! There's nothing left!"

"This isn't a 'Ronin' problem, it's a 'Hawkeye' problem," Thera said, "Let me bring you up to speed…"

Vi remained silent while Thera quickly outlined the current situation, Pexley's likely plans, and how we'd ended up ensnared by a strangely unlucky combination of IT problems and bureaucratic delays. When he finished there was only the slightest of pauses, and then she spoke in a crisp, clear tone.

"You weren't kidding about the 'extenuating circumstances', were you? Sit tight; I'm on my way. Twenty minutes."

"But Vi-" I started.

"No buts. You need my help."

"We do, but…you're willing to fight Blacknest? For my family?"

"If I have to? Yes."

"I can't ask you to do that!"

"With respect, sweetie, you don't call the shots," Vi said, "Our Goddess dragged us into this to keep you safe, and she's just a little higher up the pecking order than you."

"But what if it wasn't your Goddess?" the words came tumbling out before I could stop them, and Thera looked at me suspiciously.

"What do you mean by that?" he asked.

"Um…" I hesitated, "You said you saw your Goddess right after you got Snapped, right? What if she…wasn't your Goddess?"

"I see the brain treatment is working out well, Sparky," Vi observed dryly, "But I think you might've missed a spot."

"Oh, c'mon! I know you both suspect something!" I retorted, and glowered at Thera, "You had that coughing fit immediately after you saw that picture of Nat with the pinata, wearing a blindfold! Your Goddess wears a blindfold, doesn't she?"

"There was a…striking similarity, yes," Thera admitted.

"And she told you things that nobody else could know! Like what really happened on Vormir!" I said, "I know Clint didn't tell you about that!"

"No, he didn't."

"'So what?" said Vi, "Even if you're right, it doesn't change anything."

"It doesn't?"

"Of course not. If it really was Romanov pulling the strings, that means that her last wish was that we'd keep your family safe," Vi said, gently, "We owe our lives to her sacrifice, Laura, and I pay my debts."

"Even if that means fighting an army?"

"It won't be an army by the time I'm done with it, sweetie," Vi said. If nothing else, her self-confidence seemed to be as towering as ever, "But…Sparky?"

"Yeah?" Thera answered, his eyebrows furrowing at the hesitancy in her voice.

There was a brief silence from the other end, and Vi exhaled heavily, "Listen, I think this might be the day, you know. Ten years is a pretty good run, but-"

"Hold on, Ell," Thera said, "I'm not going to kill anyone!"

"-you may not have a choice!" Vi's voice cracked like a whip, and then softened, "I'm sorry, Sparky; I should be there, and I'm not. I just had to read the kids another bloody bedtime story, didn't I-"

"You did the right thing, Vi. They needed you."

"You need me! Listen, guys, Clint's…not bad, but he's not capable of fighting an entire mercenary group. Not all at once."

"That's not fair!" I protested, "He's taken on people like Blacknest before!"

"In a straight-up slugging match? Alone? "

"Well…"

"Listen to me, Laura," Vi said, and I could hear the thrum of anxiety in her voice, "If there's twenty cars that probably means eighty mercs. Eighty mercs, all with automatic weapons and body armour! Even if Clint has eighty arrows, and I'm pretty sure he doesn't, all it'll take is one lucky shot and he'll be down for good!"

"I know you're scared, Ell-" Thera began.

"You're damn right I'm scared! If you get hurt because I couldn't get there in time-" Vi went silent for just a moment, "Please, Sparky. I know what your vows mean to you, but you've got to help him hold that line. Whatever it takes."

"Yeah," Thera looked out the window, a pained expression on his face, "Nothing like having our backs against the wall, I guess."

"It's where we do all our best work, right?"

"I don't know about 'best', but…we'll muddle through, I guess."

"I know you will. You always do, and I trust your judgement," she said, "But we cannot let Pexley get that List. If that means you have to let Blinky off his leash…I'm sure She'll understand."

"I hope so," Thera said, "I love you, Ell."

"I love you too. Let's wrap this up."

With a soft 'boop', the line went dead. Thera gazed out the window, his expression a strange mixture of apprehension and determination.

"Well, that's that, I guess," he said eventually, in a curiously matter-of-fact tone. I frowned.

"Yeah," I said, "Are…you okay?"

"Even if I wasn't, it wouldn't change things," he said, and fixed me with a strange look. "Tell me, Laura; why'd you speak up? About Romanov, I mean."

"Because…" I thought about it for a moment. Why had I spoken up? "...I don't like the idea of you being duped into risking your lives for us. I know that Nat always did everything she had to do to win, but I'm not Nat."

"To be fair, we don't know it was Romanov. It's a nice little theory, but…"

"I know, and we'll probably never know for sure," I said, "But you deserved to know. I owe you that much, at least."

"Huh," Thera smiled ever so slightly, "Well, we'd better go find Clint. He's going to need our help."

"'Our'?" I raised an eyebrow.

"Yeah, 'our'," Thera said, "We both know you're not about to run off and hide, so why waste time pretending?"

"That's true, I suppose," I said, "But… I don't know how much help I'm going to be."

"You'd be amazed." He inclined his head, "And y'know, with Inky riding around in your head…"

"What?"

"Hey, Inky?" Thera said, "What would it take for you to activate your defensive suite?"

"In principle, it could be activated immediately," said Inky, "However, doing so may place a catastrophic strain on the E.B.I.. I would advise doing so only in an emergency."

"And you don't think Blacknest qualifies?"

"As it stands, the risk to Laura would be extreme, ranging from an immediate neural breakdown event to the outright destruction of the E.B.I.."

"Yeah, that's what I thought," Thera sighed, "Worth a shot, though."

"Hold on," I said suspiciously, "What're you trying to do?"

"Even the odds a little," he smiled crookedly, "Inky's my most powerful Wisp, and right now you're linked to her by the Eeebie. If she could get her defensive suite online, I could leave her in your hands and-"

"Are you saying you can give me magical superpowers?" I said eagerly, "Like Wanda?"

"I think you're setting your expectations a little high there, Laura," he said, "We're talking about enough power to defend yourself if necessary, not punch holes in the moon."

"But you can do that? Why didn't you do it before?"

"Because I didn't want to blow your brains out through your ears?" He said, "Look, Laura; the Eeebie has worked better than I'd hoped, but you're still fragile. I wouldn't even be considering this if we weren't about to be swarmed under by Blacknest mercs, but as it is it's still too risky!"

"Isn't there any way to reduce the risk?" I said, "Inky?"

"I can investigate various risk mitigation strategies, if required. It will take some time to develop an optimum solution."

"Do it!" I said firmly, and Thera gave me a worried look.

"Are you sure?" He said, "You remember what that N.B.E. was like, don't you? Stressing the Eeebie like this could actually kill you!"

"You know what could actually kill me? A…lot of things!" I said, with just a momentary flounder, "One of them actually did!"

"That's my point! You're not invulnerable!"

"Neither are you!" I retorted, "My children are in danger, Thera, and I'm not going to stand on the sidelines while everyone else risks their lives for them! If there's anything I can do that means I can be more than just a goddamn lemon, then I'm prepared to risk it."

"And the allure of magical powers isn't affecting your reasoning in any way?" Thera's eyebrows went up, and I felt my cheeks prickling under his stare.

"Well…maybe a little. Moving things with my mind would be cool…" I admitted, "But it doesn't matter! I'm going out there with or without Inky's help!"

"I know," he said, "Inky? Let us know when you have a potential solution."

"Confirmed."

"Hopefully she'll come up with one," Thera said, "But in the meantime, we probably shouldn't stand around up here. If Pexley's got us marked for death, then a well-lit, glass-fronted office is probably not the best place to…be…"

He trailed off, still staring out across the refinery, and when I followed his gaze I gasped and felt a sudden chill rush through me. In the distance, deep within the gathering gloom, a train of glimmering stars were racing along the chain link perimeter fence.

"Blacknest?" I said, as I stared at the approaching swarm. They were moving much, much faster than I'd expected; they couldn't be more than a minute from the gatehouse, and from there to the main building…?

"Perimeter breach imminent," Inky intoned, right on time, "Estimated time to contact, five minutes."

"Goddess!" Thera swore, "We'd better move. I just hope that Clint's had enough time to get his stuff together."

"And if he hasn't?" I said.

"Then this is going to be really, really embarrassing. And quick," Thera said, after the briefest of pauses, "Pinky? Blinky? Let's go!"

With a loud 'bang!' the two Wisps erupted from a small vent just above the boardroom table, bathing the room in a warm, golden light. They paused for a moment, as if getting their bearings, and then swirled across the room in hot pursuit of the mystic as we rushed out of the room through the grand double doors. We raced back down the stairs, taking them two at a time all the way to the ground level, and almost ran headlong into Clint as we burst into the foyer.

"Christ, hon!" he said, and extended a steadying hand as I half-skidded, half-tripped to a halt, "What're you doing here?"

"Blacknest!" I panted, "Three minutes!"

"Yeah, I know. That's why I was comin' back!" He said, "Why're you two in such a rush to go out an' meet them?"

"Hold on," I said suddenly, "Where's Keame?"

"Left him in the IT department. Turns out his team wasn't quite as unreachable as he thought," Clint said sourly, "Between them I think they've locked down the network pretty well. It won't stop Pexley forever, but at least he won't be able to get the List the instant he drives through the gate."

"Good timing," Thera said, "And the Arachnid?"

"He sent the shut-down order. Saw it myself," he said, and shook his head, "Those guys at Hammer Industries could learn a thing or two from Stark about their user interfaces. 'Looks like something out of the nineties."

"But it's off, right?" Thera pressed, "Inky?"

"I am not detecting any change in the power consumption levels of the Arachnid," said Inky, "However, its patrol path has shifted. It may be returning to its nest to power down."

"Look, buddy, I saw him punch it in," Clint said, "I'm not sure what else he can do."

"Mmm," Thera sounded unhappy, but clearly decided to let it slide, "You got everything you needed? Trick arrows 'n all?"

"Everythin' I could carry," Clint pointed to his sack bag, leaning against a faux-leather sofa, "I scattered the rest of the arrowheads across the parking lot. When I set those off…" he grinned nastily, "It's gonna be brutal."

"Look forward to it," said Thera, "Listen, Vi's coming as quickly as she can, but until then she's asked us to hold the line. That means-"

"Whoa, hold on a second," Clint held up his hands, "You two need to get somewhere safe - sneak out the back while I lure them in-"

"-and then what? We hide, while you get chased around the building like some kind of bad physical comedy?"

"Wouldn't be the first time," Clint said ruefully, "But I'm the Avenger. You two shouldn't be in this kind of danger!"

"We've already been in 'this kind of danger', remember?" I said, and gently took his hand, "And we promised each other that we'd do everything together, 'no matter what'."

"I know, but-"

"You're not alone anymore, Clint," I said, "We can help you!"

Clint looked as if he was about to say something, but then he stopped and smiled crookedly, "Stubborn as always, hon. There's nothin' I can say that'll change your mind, is there?"

"We're a team, babe. I'm here until the end."

"Same here," Thera agreed, "I mean, you can replace 'undying loyalty' with 'morbid curiosity', but the sentiment is largely the same."

"Uh-huh," Clint rolled his eyes in wry amusement, and then said, "Okay, so if we're going to throw ourselves at Blacknest, I say we go all out. We take 'em head on with a combination of arrows, Wisps, and everything I've tossed across that parking lot. If they can get through that, then we run like hell."

"Sounds like as good an idea as any-" Thera stopped, as the foyer's great glass frontage began to hum and rattle quietly. A moment later, it was joined by the distant rumble of tyres on tarmac, and brilliant white headlamps blazed into view, "-which is nice, because here comes trouble."