Chapter 9:
[Spartan POV]
[Weeks later, New York City]
[Brooklyn.] [Rooftop.] Via rooftops, I'm out on patrol of the city. It's been fairly quiet; not much action going on today. Just as I'm about to call it a day. A teenage kid running through the street catches my attention. Two overweight cops are on his tail; their uniforms are stained dark blue with sweat. Of course, even the kid is sweating, but at least he has an excuse, he wearing a ski mask during the hottest summer day of the year to hide his identity. "Just stay where you are, kid," the officer breaths. I think his name is Libowitz. I've seen him *patrol* around the neighborhood. He's one of those lazy cops at best or an asshole cops at worst. Him and his partner both. Speaking of Libowitz's partner, the man doesn't even look like he can speak, fighting just to draw a breath. His face's an alarming shade of red as he leans up against the wall.
Hope the guy doesn't have a heart attack. "Come on now. Just want the nightstick back! Can't bust criminals' heads without it. Hand it over, kid. Now!" In answer, the kid leaps onto a dumpster and up the first level of the fire escape. 'Skilled in parkour.' The cop who lunges at him falls into the dumpster. Popping his head out, the man is covered in garbage. "I'm going to shoot that, kid. Little creep can't just steal a police officer's nightstick!" Ozwald barks. The threat makes me pause. I peer down to see Officer Ozwald reaching for his gun. 'Was he really going shoot the kid over a stupid nightstick?!' Not sure if the display is a scare tactic, but it doesn't matter; the asshole is crossing the line and needs to be stopped.
[Ground-level.] I jump down, disarm the moron of his weapon, then drop the two idiots in quick succession using CQC. Glancing at the fire escape, the kid is long gone. Knowing the neighborhood layout like the back of my hand, I know exactly where the route leads. Grappling-line to the roof, go cut him off ahead.
[Alley.] Using the wall pipe, the kid slides down. I stand in wait on the ground, arms folded. The kid jerks back in surprise, "The fuck?!" Snatch the nightstick from the kid's belt strap at blinding speed. "All this trouble for a piece of junk," I say, twirling the baton, "So what's the story? Why pick a fight with trigger-happy blues itching for an excuse to turn anyone into a hashtag?" The teen pulls off the mask, revealing a Latino. Has to be 15 by the look of him. "A dare. To sway off the bullies from beating the shit out of me. They dared me to steal a cop's nightstick," he tells me. I shake my head, "Stupid, dangerous, and very close to a bad end." The teen drops his eyes, realizing what I'm saying is true. Toss the police baton to him. 'Word about the dare is going to spread. The kid's cred just gone up. If Brooklyn still follows the old code, the punks will back off.' I make my leave but stop to say something over my shoulder to the kid, "If you're going to do dare don't do one that'll end your life."
[Drake POV]
[Val-Verde]
[Rooftop.] I position myself and then lay in wait. Feel like going more aggro on this op; it's more fun when it's a fight. The target enters the large mansion, completely unaware of what's in store. 'Time to commence the violence.' I grapple-line to a nearby watchtower and snap the neck of the nameless soldier stationed there. Purposely set off the alarm for an added thrill. I want a good fight, after all. Armed soldiers scramble throughout the mansion, taking up a defensive position and seeking me out. 'It won't do much for them.' I jump out of the watchtower and into the fray.
[Compound.] Blood splatter painted the corridor along with the bodies. 'What a disappointment. All bark and no bite. Val-Verde's elite special forces, my ass. Fucking rejects barely lasted eight minutes in battle.' Stroll toward the safe-room where the target is hiding in. From my pack, grab a breach-charge, set it onto the weak point on the door, trigger the detonator, blowing it open. I step through the gaping hole to find General Baro aiming a pistol at me. Quick-draw, shoot the man in the knees. He falls, screaming out in agony. Roam over to him. Baro tries to drag himself away, "Wait! Wait! Whatever you are being paid, I will double it!" I grin under my mask, completing the job by putting a bullet into General Baro's head. A text message appears on my HUD for another op.
[Spartan POV]
[1 day later, SHIELD HQ, New York City, USA]
[Training-area.] Clint watches on from the sidelines as Wanda spar with Karai and me. Surprisingly, Wanda is holding her own against season operators; sure, we're holding back, but it's still impressive. Then again, it shouldn't be too surprising. Growing up in a very rough environment, you'll quickly learn to survive and defend yourself. Wanda throws a combo of boxing moves on Karai. My partner easily sways off the attack. Wanda has a decent foundation in melee combat but is still a novice. Karai gets in a few body-blows. Wanda retreats, holding her abdomen.
Despite being powerful, the Sokovian is a glass cannon. Karai rushes in and tries to hit Wanda with a jump-punch, but Wanda stops my partner with a charge of her hex powers. I clear my pistol from the holster and fire several stun-bolts, tagging Wanda in the back. "Ow! Damn it, that stings!" she complains, rolling on the ground, "Dirty trick, Spartan!" Clint stifles a laugh, then states a matter-of-factly, "There's no such thing as a fair fight. And the bad guys share no compunction about being nice. They'll fight just as dirty and as hard. Alright, let's move on to the next segment."
Wanda, Clint, Karai, and I stroll into the shooting range. "You need to learn how to use these," Clint says, pointing to the array of weapons. The girl looks at Clint with wide eyes, then gazes at each of the guns skittishly. "I never used a gun before," Wanda tells me in a nervous voice, "Not sure if I should." The man looks at her with understanding eyes, "In a perfect world, you would never have to use a gun, but unfortunately, it's not perfect. And sooner or later, you'll reach a moment when you'll need an equalizer." She sighs, nodding. Taking the lead on this one, I pick up one of the pistols, a Glock-45, "The first thing you always need to do is treat the weapon as if it's loaded. Even when it's not. Keep your finger off the trigger unless you're going to shoot." Wanda nods. Hold the gun out to her. A little hesitantly, Wanda takes the weapon and then fires downrange. It misses the target. "Well, that was terrible," she hums. I take a step closer to Wanda, "Go back to a neutral stance. We're going to do this from the ground up. Do what I do." She nods and readies herself to follow my instructions.
Slowly, I draw my pistol, grip the handle with both hands, and punch my arms out forward. Wanda did it precisely like me, "Good. Nice form. Now aim down the sight. Breathe. And try to keep both eyes open when you're aiming." She fires a shot. Now the bullet hit the target in the center mass. "Yes!" she yells excitedly. "Good. Do it again," I say. Wanda goes for rounds after rounds. One-handed-shooting. Two-handed-shooting. Switching between different types of shooting stances. After a few more shots, we finally call it a quit.
Once Clint and Karai leave, it's just Wanda and me in the training-area. "How's the adjustment going?" I ask. "It still takes some getting used to. I can not remember the last time I slept soundlessly through the night. As you have already seen, Sokovia is a war-torn country; I am sure you can relate to how difficult it is to sleep in a warzone," She tells me, a hint of bitterness in her tone. "Yeah, I can," I say. Wanda shakes her head, "I apologize. That was needlessly insensitive." "No, it's okay," I say. I rub my hands together nervously. There's a short pause of awkward silence. Thankfully Wanda's stomach growls hungrily. Wanda's face reddens in embarrassment. I smile, internally thanking the tension breaker, "Worked up an appetite." She simply nods, too embarrassed to say anything. Together, we make our way to the mess-hall.
[Mess-hall.] Once we get our meal, we take a seat at the table within the cafeteria. Wanda shoots a curious gaze at my dish, "What is that? It smells delicious." "It's an Onigirazu, a fusion of a rice ball and sandwich." Wanda tilts her head in confusion, "I do not believe I have ever had that dish." It's a gamble; people tend to be a little hesitant about trying new food. I hand Wanda a small sample. She takes a bite of the sample then her eyes go wide in pure glee. "This is amazing," Wanda voices. Quickly, the girl rushes back and grabs her own plate of Onigirazu. "Back in Sokovia, we are heavily dependent on rations. Food like this is a luxury only for the elites," she tells me. I nod acknowledgingly. The topic is quickly changed to something else. "How did it feel to fire a weapon for the first time," I question, curious. The woman touches her hand to her chest, "Scary at first, then exhilarating. Always seen it being used but never used it myself until today. Honestly, I appreciate the experience."
Pull out a phone from my pocket and slide it toward her side of the table. She gazes at the device, then at me, a raised brow, "What is this?" "A STARK-phone. To keep in contact," I say to her. Wanda clasps the phone in her hand, inspecting it, "Is this one a new model?" I point a finger toward the device, "Yeah, fresh off the line. It even comes with a virtual-assistant." She perks up, intrigued, "Virtual-assistant? Like an AI?" I sway my head, "More or less. It acts more like a limited-AI." Wanda tilts, perplexed, "There are different types of AIs?" Hold up two fingers, "Yeah. There are about two types of AIs. Limited-AI is the type of AIs that is good at specific tasks. Smart-AI is the type that can think and strategize. Jarvis, Tony's AI, is a mix blend of type A and B." The girl's eyes shine with astonishment, "Amazing." I scratched the back of my head.
"So tell me about yourself. If we are going to be working together, we should know a bit about each other," Wanda probes for information. "Not much to tell. I'm an orphan kid born and raised in Brooklyn. Karai's my best friend. Been a duo since we were kids. Joined SHIELD at 18. Been a crusader for far longer," I inform the Sokovian. Have to admit hanging out with Wanda is enjoyable. She's funny, smart, easy to get along with, and down-to-earth. It's nice. The conversation between the two of us is relatively light, a good start. Wanda readies herself to leave. She stops and turns to face me, pulls a lock of hair behind her ear, "Umm, if you are up to it. Do you want to meet up after? I'm still new here, and I would like someone to show me around NYC." My cheeks blush slightly, "Sure. Meet up at Zion. I send you a waypoint via your new phone."
"The two of you seem to be getting along very nicely," Karai says, parking herself into a nearby seat next to me. "Yeah," I speak, still smirking with glee, "Clint is going to run her through another round in CQC." Instantaneously, the conversation shifts into a more serious tone. "That girl is insanely powerful. You were there; you saw it yourself," Karai voices. I lean forward in my seat, clapping my hands together, "You think she's going to be a threat?" She drops her eyes, "I honestly don't know. I hope not for our sake."
I stay silent for a long moment. My head flashes back to the team's first encounter with Wanda in Sokovia. Specifically the raw power she displayed when she vaporized those mindless acolytes. Deep within my core, something told me that was only a small fraction of what she could really do. Dropping the subject, I voice something that catches my best friend by complete surprise, "I think you should ask Skye out?" She nearly spits out her drink. Karai takes a moment to gather herself, "Wait, what?!" I laugh at her reaction, "It's only a suggestion. Don't need to get all bent out of shape over it." Karai breathes slowly, "Dude, you know I don't have the best track record in romantic relationships. My last one didn't end so well." "Okay, first off, the both of you agreed to end it. Secondly, that was a toxic relationship anyway. You're better off. And lastly, it's just a suggestion. It's your call," I state, waving her off. She rolls her eyes.
[2 hours later, Zion, New York City]
The day has been relatively quiet. Hardly any action has gone down. It's nice to have some level of peace. Some would call it being normal. Normal is such a subjective word. Being a crusader and a soldier, crazy is normal. Just the rest of the world finally caught up. After an hour or so of patrolling the city, I decided to take a break and stop at Zion to meet Wanda. Relatively to the rest of NYC, Zion is a neon oasis. As I enter the bar, murmurs and hush conversations wash over me. The residents raise their heads, take my measure then go back to their business. This is the kind of place where everyone knows your name but keeps to themselves. I park myself at the bar table.
One of the two bartenders is a striking woman sporting a black tank top. Her exposed arms and chest were inked with beautifully drawn tattoos. The name tag reads Nicole. "Nice ink," I compliment. She smiles, "Thanks. What can I get you?" "Something heavy and hard in a clean glass," I tell her. Nicole nods in amusement, "Oh, hard-cases. I like that. Okay, hard-cases, I'll get you something stiff." She moves to make the drinks. A short while passes, and she returns with a full glass of alcohol. The drink is the right mix of bitterness and sweetness. It goes down easy. Not really sure why I even bother to drink anymore. Being a BIO-ENHANCED super-soldier, I can't ever get drunk. Guess it's a habit of normality or whatever.
Zion was initially a sleazy slum block run by the Viceroy gang. A shithole with flickering lamp lights and faded colors. Filled to the brim with tired-eyes prostitutes and gangbangers with shark miles. One of the first Viceroy-controlled territories I took down with Karai.
After a while, a commotion at the back of the INN catches my ear. Curious, I go check it out. Entering the backroom, found a man getting overly touchy with one of the girls. It was clear she wasn't into it. The woman pushes the man back hard. Being drunk, the guy lost his footing and fell to the ground. Now angry and embarrassed, the man gets to his feet quickly, raises a hand to strike the girl. In a flash, I get the man's arm in a hold, hyperextending it behind the man's back. The man starts shouting out in pain. "Last, I checked when someone says no, it means no," I growl, "Get out of here and don't come back." Holding his injured arm, the man dashes out the exit. I turn to the woman, "You good?" She sighs, "Yeah. Thanks." I head back to my table. Nicole comes and places down a coffee cup, "I hear coffee goes well with that drink. It's on the house. My thanks for helping Zoey out." She goes back to work, attending to the other denizens.
Someone taps my shoulder and takes a seat at my table. It's Wanda. "Was it hard to find the place?" I ask her. Wanda shakes her head, "No," waves her phone, "Waypoint." I smirk, "Right." Wanda looks to the crowd behind me, "Nice display. Knock that creep down a few notches. Might actually think twice before getting handsy with anyone else." I raise an eyebrow, "You saw that?" The girl nods, "Yup. The growl was a nice added touch." I turned away, hoping my face wasn't beaming red.
[New York City]
[Hell's Kitchen.] Wanda and I stroll through the streets of Hell's Kitchen. Coming up the block, there's a gathering of people. A block party is in progress, and it's in full swing. Wanda peers at me, flashes a smile, "Want to be my plus one?" I beam, "Yeah, okay." Following Wanda, the two of us make our way within the dancing crowd. We move together with the rhythm of the music. "You're not a bad dancer," she says. "Honestly, I'm just following you," I say sheepishly. Wanda places her arms around my shoulders, drawing me closer, "Just go with the flow, and you will be fine." A long moment passes when a ruckus by a restaurant catches our attention. Curious, Wanda and I go investigate. An enraged overweight chef storms out of the restaurant, chasing an animal with a meat cleaver in hand. A puppy. "Oh, hell the fuck no," Wanda yells, giving chase. I go after the three.
[Alley.] The pup gets cornered at a dead end. Turning, it sees the chef stalking towards it. The dog drops the meat it's holding in its mouth and growls threateningly at the overweight man. The man just laughs, amused. "You little shit screwed with my business for the last time," the man yells. Before he could get any closer to the animal, Wanda grabs him by the attacking arm. The chef blinks back in surprise. "Do not even consider that option," Wanda hisses. Despite acting calm, I can see she's itching to do something to the man. I step in, making the guy's attention fall on me. From my pocket, I hand the chef a few hundred dollars, "For the damages the dog might have caused." He says something, but I ignore him, "Take the money and leave," I tell him. With a snort, the man walks away. I turn my gaze to Wanda. She kneels down in front of the pup, a space between them. The dog steps out from the dark corner. "It is okay. The mean fatass is gone now," she says to the pup.
Wanda picks up the piece of meat it dropped. Unwrapping it, Wanda holds out a bite-size bit. Cautiously, the pop moves toward Wanda, sniffs the beef, then eats it. "Aren't you a cute little thing," she says. Wanda reaches out an empty hand to pet it. The pup jumps back. It studies her hand and then Wanda's face. "I am not going to hurt you," she tells the dog. Accepting her words, the pup moves close, letting Wanda pet it. I walk to stand next to her, getting a better view of the puppy. The dog has raven-colored fur. Bright blue with a black sclera. Never seen this type of breed before. It must be a hybrid Wolf-dog, off the appearance. "Ahab. Yeah, that name suits you," Wanda says, picking the dog up. The pup licks her face happily. Together we leave with a furry new addition.