"Alright. Centipede is an old Hydra program, as I'm sure we're all familiar with at this point. The program was run by an old Hydra sleeper agent named John Garrett, who died over a decade ago, and we assumed the project went with it," Mack explained. Bucky, along with the other two Avengers, Coulson, and a new female S.H.I.E.L.D. agent he had yet to meet were seated around a semicircular table in one of the briefing rooms below the bridge. A holographic tactical display was projected over the table, one that they could each manipulate to their contentment and that the Director could add to at any time.
Not Coulson, he remembered. A robot. A dangerous, mindless android. Not to be trusted.
Despite their various suspicions, Bucky had been right about last night. Nobody had made an attempt on any one of them, and they had awoken to a peaceful greeting and in the same place they had gone to sleep. The Coulson-bot had appeared sometime around 6, an hour after Bucky had awoken himself, offering them coffee and showing them to the briefing room. Mack had appeared shortly after they were in the room, and gone straight into the briefing. While he wasn't personally a fan of people being late, he could respect the no-nonsense attitude. He much preferred Mack to Coulson.
"The original Centipede serum used a multitude of components that formed a highly unstable mixture. To put it simply, every known source of superpower at the time was thrown into a blender. Alien metals. Gamma radiation. The super soldier serum, though incomplete. Other ingredients were mixed in, but the most important one was the catalyst that caused the serum to destabilize and…" He hesitated mid-sentence. "...and turn the wearers into walking explosives. That bit was called Extremis. A formula that was created by Stark in an attempt to regenerate dead tissue, but was stolen by a man named Aldrich Killian, who was the founder and CEO of a secret corporation known only as A.I.M..
"Agent Coulson believes that A.I.M. adopted the project in the wake of the fall of Hydra, as well as a swath of their top scientists and other projects, and have been developing and improving upon them since. Coulson?" Mack requested. The Coulson-bot stood and made its way around to the front of the table, pulling up two images of the Centipedes. One was of the broken one Bucky had ripped off the arm of that mercenary back in Madripoor. The other one was of an unused, but older looking model.
"Though we can't be sure A.I.M. is the culprit behind these newly rebooted Hydra projects, the concentration of the Extremis compound in the Centipede that Mr. Barnes obtained is considerably higher than that of the original Hydra model, suggesting that A.I.M. has had some interaction in the newer models," The bot spoke through Bucky's relentless glare. He didn't like robots to begin with. The fact that everyone here treated this one like it was human was absurd in his opinion.
"So this new serum may be more unstable than the original?" Clint asked.
"Certain compounds have been found to neutralize the volatility of the original serum. The science department isn't entirely sure how they stabilized the larger quantity, but the new formula appears to be more potent and more stable than the last one," Coulson-bot said. "However, it is also not impossible that other powerful accelerants could overpower the stabilizing agent, causing the soldier to detonate."
"So there's no way to remove the Centipede without killing the subject?" Sam asked. Bucky admired his aspiration to save as many lives as he could. But he knew just as well as Sam did that not everyone could be saved, even if they deserved to be.
Mack shook his head sadly. "No, not that we know of. Once the Centipede is connected, the wearer will die without it. However, these soldiers are still people. They can be reasoned with," Mack said firmly. "But when that's not an option, our best chance is to contain them. That's what she's for." He pointed to the woman sitting at the far side of the table. She wore what appeared to be a padded red jacket and equally padded black pants. Dark running shoes were on her feet in stark contrast with the combat boots that others wore. Her hair was in two pigtails that wove into a single braid down her back, reaching almost to her hips. A S.H.I.E.L.D. logo was displayed prominently on her shoulder, with a single footprint emblem in the middle of it. Bucky recalled seeing that same logo on one of the doors in their main room. Rodriguez, he remembered.
"Commander Rodriguez has been brought onto the operation to assist with combat and infiltration, along with several other S.H.I.E.L.D. and other government operatives like Colonel Rhodes that have experience with or can effectively combat Centipede," Mack said. "It would be ideal if they were here now, but they were all deployed on separate assignments when the problem came to our attention. They'll be joining you in the field. I've already sent them the location details."
"Wait, we don't even know where we're going," Bucky said. Mack pointed at him, then brought up a map on the holoprojector.
"The only known A.I.M. location is a Roxxon Oil frigate, the Norco. It was under government possession until a few months ago, when it was hijacked and disappeared somewhere in the south pacific," Mack said. A red dot appeared where the ship had vanished.
"Assuming A.I.M. is still alive and well after the death of Killian, it is likely that the frigate was acquired by these same Centipede soldiers, and is being used as a transport to various research facilities around the world. Recently, several reports of ships matching the Norco's description have come in from places like Tokyo, Sydney, and Seoul. It wouldn't be surprising if the Norco ended up being somewhere along the shipping routes in between those locations. All you have to do is find it," Coulson-bot explained.
"Agent Coulson is leading this mission, as he has the most experience of anyone here with Centipede and arguably the second most experience with Hydra. Understood?" Mack stated.
Silence hung over the room.
After a moment, Mack sighed and kept speaking. "I'll take that as a yes. Avengers One has been checked and prepped for takeoff. Agent Coulson, Commander Rodriguez, I'll let you take it from here. I still have a few more briefings to get to before I meet with the council this morning."
"Copy that, Mack," Coulson-bot replied. It turned to look back at the four of them still around the table.
"Alright, you heard him. Head on back to your cabins and grab your gear. You'll find a supply of S.H.I.E.L.D. equipment tailored to your individual skill sets is located in a locker across from your bed. Help yourself to what you'd like to use then meet me on the jet. Wheels up in 10," It ordered, then left the briefing room, followed closely by the Commander.
"We're taking orders from a machine now?" Sam asked. Buck sighed in agreement. Clint remained silent.
"Let's go get ready. So long as we are aware of the potential threat around us, we are prepared for it," Bucky replied.
"I can't wait to hear what Rhodey makes of all this," Clint remarked, rising out of his chair and proceeding out the door.
Sam followed the archer out closely, and he was probably expecting Bucky to follow him. But Bucky had other plans. He waited for enough time to have passed that the Coulson-bot wasn't around, and that Mack was in his next meeting. Then, he exited, turning to go the opposite direction of the lift. He had been on enough military installations in his day to know that every deck had to have at least two non-mechanical exits in case of emergency, and he suspected that still applied here. S.H.I.E.L.D. knew who he was, which meant that they knew what he was capable of, and could possibly act against him accordingly. But they also had two other superheroes to monitor, and neither one of them had stealth or espionage experience like he did. If he could get around the carrier undetected, he doubted that anyone would notice his disappearance for quite a while.
Sure enough, towards the starboard side of the hull, he found a stairwell. Just as I suspected, he thought. It's a good thing that aircraft carriers are all pretty much one in the same, whether they fly themselves or not. He pushed the door aside and let it swing closed behind him, then proceeded to look down the stairwell. Only a few decks beneath him were the barracks, he knew, so ten or twenty yards beneath where he stood. A normal person would have to walk down several flights of stairs. Bucky could take a shortcut.
Grasping onto the rail with his vibranium arm, he hurled himself over the side, landing on the railing directly below and spinning to fall again. His feet planted firmly on the ground in front of the door to the barracks deck, and he proceeded through just as casually as he had the first time. He found himself only a few hallways away from the Avengers cabin area. Making a mental note of it, he proceeded onward to his destination. Not only could he learn how to get around the carrier without being noticed, but he could also scope it out in the process. One of the many rules of infiltration that he had been trained with was to know his surroundings. That way, if he needed an escape, or a hiding place, he could easily find one.
He passed through the open door of the Avengers lounge, drifting to his cabin and entering almost without a sound. Everything was exactly where he left it, so it was reasonable to assume that nobody had been in here since. The locker Coulson-bot had indicated was subtly designed into the wall, but stood out like a sore thumb to his trained eye. It didn't appear to have an obvious way to open it, though…
Maybe it's a pressure mechanism, he thought. Carefully, he reached out to the surface of the locker with his left hand, pressuring it gently. Nothing happened. Well, at least I know it's not a trap, now. He pulled his vibranium arm away from the surface, then looked at his right hand. His organic one. I wonder… He extended his other hand, just barely grazing the surface of the panel.
"Welcome, Mr. Barnes," A digital voice suddenly said. Biometrics, Bucky thought, stepping to the side as the panel slid out of the wall, exposing several shelves of various firearms, knives, grenades, and at the very back of it all was a suit, resting on a skeleton-like structure. It wasn't all that different from the one he wore. A single sleeve on the right arm, a utility belt for his field equipment, and solid footwear for combat and traversal. The biggest differences of all were the Avengers logo on the shoulder of the sleeve, with a single red star in the center.
He sighed, tilting his head as he looked at his old symbol. He wasn't sure how he felt about parading around that mark. He had carried it for so long under a flag he had been forced to carry, representing the dark and dirty deeds of Hydra…
"I'm picking up on discontentment, Mr. Barnes. Is something not satisfactory?" The voice suddenly asked. He had heard that voice before, but he couldn't place where..
"No," He said. He looked away from the suit and back to the racks of weapons. His eyes landed on a futuristic pistol, mounted low near the bottom of the rack. He picked it up with his metal arm, turning it over and looking at the sleek design. "What is this? Some kind of… energy pistol?"
"That is an I.C.E.R."
"Meaning?"
"An Incapacitating Cartridge Emitting Railgun. A nonlethal firearm, part of most standard S.H.I.E.L.D. loadouts."
That's new, he thought. The S.H.I.E.L.D. I knew didn't have these. He picked up three magazines for the weapon, one to use and two spares. He put the extras away in one of the pouches on his belt, and clipped the high tech firearm to his side. Though he still felt like S.H.I.E.L.D. was dangerous and not to be trusted, the nonlethal armaments did do something to quell his uneasiness.
"Agent Coulson plans to depart in the next three minutes. Anything else today, Mr. Barnes?" The voice asked.
"No, thank you," He replied. He had heard the voice before, but he couldn't quite place it. The smart locker closed itself with a soft click, once again flawlessly blending in with the white walls. "Everything with robots around here, huh?" He muttered. Then he turned and exited his room at a small jog, making up for the extra time he had taken to get here.
"This is Agent Coulson aboard Avengers One, departing the Helicarrier Theta. We have five souls aboard, T-minus 16 hours fuel, en route to Tokyo. Over."
Mack pressed a button on one of his side displays. "Roger that, Avengers One. You are cleared for departure. Good hunting," He responded, watching the Stark-designed quinjet take off from the bridge.
"Thanks, Director. We'll see you when we get back," Coulson said. Mack released the button, sighing to himself.
"Now we wait," He said, following the jet until it disappeared into the clouds. I hope Coulson can find a way to bring them around about us...
"Sir," He heard behind him. He looked over his shoulder to find one of Yo-Yo's squadmates, Davis, standing at attention.
"Talk to me, Davis. What's come up now?" He responded, returning to his controls.
"Sir, the Zephyr Three made contact."
Mack instantly turned back around to face him entirely. "And? They're on their way?"
"No, sir. There's been a problem."
"What kind of problem?"
"I think you're going to want to see for yourself, sir," Davis responded. Mack nodded at the younger agent, and he led the way off the bridge, back to the entry to the Director's personal office. He stopped in front of the door. Mack came up beside him, pressing his left palm against a biometric sensor lock. The door hissed open, and the two of them proceeded inside.
"F.R.I.D.A.Y., make sure we're alone, please," Mack requested to the room.
"At once, Director," A female artificial voice replied. The thin window he had to the bridge turned completely black, and a soft hum filled the room as the noise-isolation turned on. I may not like robots, Mack thought, but every day I'm just a little bit more thankful that Stark left F.R.I.D.A.Y. to Fury. After just a moment longer, F.R.I.D.A.Y. spoke again. "All isolation systems are engaged."
"Thank you," Mack said. He took a seat behind his desk, returning his attention to Davis, who was patiently waiting in the corner. "How bad is it?"
"From my best estimates, sir, not good," Davis said, pulling a flash drive from his pocket. Mack turned it over in his hand, examining it. "The report only came in just this morning. According to the telemetry data of when this message was sent, this could be anywhere from weeks to months old."
Mack stood, crossing the room in three strides and plugging the drive into a holoprojector in the corner. The center of the room illuminated with a hologram of a woman, her hair cut just below her shoulders. She was dressed in a tight black combat suit, with silvery bracers around her forearms and feet. On her belt buckle was a single symbol- a seismic wave, growing and receding in power. A trickle of blood ran down the side of her face, and she was covered in grime and dust. Daisy, Mack thought. His hand was on the 'play' button in seconds.
"Hello, Director," Holo-Daisy started abruptly. "Despite our conjunction with S.W.O.R.D., Nick Fury, and the Skrulls, the mission has taken a turn for the worse. About ten hours prior to recording this message, a hostile Skrull warship appeared in the nebula, and attacked. The Zephyr was no match for a renegade warship of this size, so in an effort to lose them, we flew through what we refer to as 'The Solaris Maelstrom', a cluster of forming stars tight enough that any ship bigger or smaller than Z-3 would be disintegrated upon going attempting to pass through. Originally, we deemed it impassible, and only after Z-3 was able to make it through did we amend that statement.
"In the escape, two torpedoes of unknown design struck the port aft thruster, and the starboard wing. The intense heat and radiation from the stars has burned through the heat shielding and seems to have also multiplied the damage from the torpedoes…" She broke off, inhaling deeply. "...we're still trying to figure out the full extent of the damage. Air filtration systems appear to be functioning at only a third capacity, and most power systems that connect to the exterior of the ship also seem to be unresponsive, including the jump drive.
"The systems we know to still be functioning are artificial gravity, pressurization, and the majority of the auxiliary thrusters. We think it safe to assume that our starboard fuel tank is unusable with the damage to the wing, leaving us at half fuel capacity. By our estimates, and assuming that the ship holds together, we can stretch that out a few months if we just sit here. But, any attempt to use the auxiliary thrusters or the jump drive if we can repair it will result in a significant loss of fuel quantity, and potentially compromise the integrity of the hull.
Daisy drew in a quick sigh. "I think it's safe to assume that our position was lost and our vessel presumed destroyed in the escape, and communications systems are fried. I don't think anyone's looking for us. I'm going to see if Kora can supercharge the device to get a signal back to Earth, but even if that succeeds, we have no way of knowing if you'll receive it, or when. It might be too late," She shrugged. "I can't think of a way out of this one, Mack. That was always you, or FitzSimmons. The only thing that did come to mind was re-commissioning Z-1 and the Time Drive to pull us out before the attack happened, but I know what we all agreed to. Unless an apocalypse level event appears that we can't stop without time travel, that technology doesn't exist. So this may be the last you ever hear from me.
"I'm not giving up, Mack. I don't do that any more. Kora, Sousa and I will come up with something, eventually. But in the unlikely event that we don't…" She smiled sadly. "Well, at least we'll be together." She then looked behind her shoulder, seemingly answering somebody that was calling from behind her. She sighed and looked back at the camera. "I need to go, get back to the problem at hand. Good luck, Director. Whatever's going on there, I hope it goes well."
Mack turned off the projector, exhaling hard as he wrapped his head around everything he had just seen. Daisy is lost in space, he thought. Sousa and Kora too. And the entire crew of the Zephyr Three. Minimal life support and drifting through space. His mind began to sharpen into his tactical mode. Z-2, Z-4, and Z-5 are in different regions of space, unlikely to receive the transmission. Zephyr One could make it there, but even if we did, we have no way of successfully following them…
"Sir?" Davis asked. Mack blinked as he realized the other agent was still in the room. "What do we do?
Mack took a deep breath, setting his compassion aside. "That message is clear. We can no longer depend on the Johnsons for backup," He said firmly. He marched back over to his desk, sitting down and beginning to type rapidly. "Without their powers, the estimated number of forces Coulson gave us will be too much to take on. We need additional support."
"Sir?" Davis said, confused. "I'm not sure I understand."
"We already have Colonel Rhodes on his way to meet Coulson's team in Tokyo," Mack replied. He barely registered Davis's reaction as he switched to look at a second monitor by his side, continuing to type. "Davis, I need you and Piper to go out, locate, and recruit the Avengers. As many as you can find. Last whereabouts, family connections, business employment, whatever it takes. Make sure they don't feel like they're being hunted. We need them on our side."
"Yes sir, I'll make it my top priority," Davis responded.
"I'll contact Deathlok. I think he's nearby as well. If anyone knows about Centipede, it's him," Mack said, nodding as a map of the world appeared, displaying glowing red dots across in various places around the globe.
Davis nodded, turning to leave, but hesitating for a moment longer. "I'm sorry about Daisy, sir."
Mack stopped typing for a moment as the words hit him. "She'll find her way back," He responded. "She always does."
"Where could this thing be? I feel like we've been over the same stretch of water three times," Coulson asked no one in particular. Clint sighed from the pilot's seat, glancing at the radar as they flew through the night.
"There's a reason that the ship hasn't been found since it was stolen, Coulson," The archer responded. "It's been hidden well."
"I guess so," Coulson said, sliding into the copilot seat. "But if there was a ship that big coming or going in the night, you think you'd be able to see it by now."
"Yeah, well, I guess looks can be deceiving," Clint offered, looking him in the eye. "Sometimes you think something's there when it really isn't."
Coulson nodded, reading between the lines. "More jabs at my current physical body? I thought you of all people might get it."
Clint shook his head laughing. "What I get is that you died. Years ago. Then you came back because Fury used some kind of alien voodoo-magic, and never once thought that we would have liked to know that you were still around. Then you died again, only to have your friends build a robot that looks like you to take your place. You aren't even you, Coulson! You're this… this machine now! I don't know how much of you is even in there, and how much is just ones and zeroes. I fought Ultron, a thing almost exactly like you are now, and people died. Pietro died, and Wanda hasn't gotten a break from the trauma since!" He rambled. "Can you understand how that makes it kind of hard to trust a robot that looks exactly like your dead friend?"
"Yes," Coulson replied instantly. "Every day, I think about what I am. How much of me is me. I spent months trying to figure that out, and could probably spend years still. But this form? This me? It was built by the only three scientists I ever trusted. All those years of experience? Those are still with me too. You can label me as another Ultron, go ahead. But I don't need to remind you that the Vision was also just like me, even more so than Ultron. Looks can be deceiving, sure, but it's what's on the inside that matters mo-"
Clint looked over at him as his dialogue stopped mid-sentence. "Coulson?" He asked.
"On the inside..." Coulson repeated. "A.I.M. recruited the Hydra scientists that were in S.H.I.E.L.D. Those scientists didn't just work on Hydra projects," He realized, looking at Clint with his eyes wide. "They have our tech."
"Which means they have cloaking," Clint said as he caught on. He pulled back on the yoke and spun them around, facing the area they had just flown over. Clint's hands flew over the controls, flipping switches and adjusting dials. "Fortunately, Tony outfitted this thing with a radar that can detect cloaked ships."
"No need," Coulson said. Clint looked into his eyes to find their pupils glowing red as he looked over the ocean. "I've got eyes on the target."