A/N: Ok, fluff last chapter. I'll try to give some actual plot now.
Songs for this chapter:
"Me, Myself, and I" by Vinyl Theatre
"Royal Archives Heist" by Joseph Trapanese, the Budapest Art Orchestra
"The Red Means I Love You" by Madds Buckley
-O-
"This is strictly a snatch and grab for information," Barton said, standing in front of a holograph of Oscorp building blueprints. With a flick of his hand, the image rotated. "It's come to our attention that new security measures have been enacted, especially in this area," He blew up the center of the building, expanding the image to centralize on the 23rd floor. "Especially this floor." he turned his gaze to Maren. "That's where you're gonna be heading,"
Nodding, Maren tapped her pen against the tabletop. She could do this without freaking out. Probably. No, definitely. She could do be fair, it had been her idea to go along on data recovery. There was too much chance for Banner to be recognized, and Barton still had trouble with his thumb drive on some days. A few other data analysts sat alongside her and Doctor Banner in the conference adjoining Maren's new office.
It was too late to regret her decision about the Oscorp gala, especially since the security consultants seemed eager to break out the proverbial spandex. Well, sort of eager. They weren't morally opposed to the idea.
The hologram glitched when Barton tried to manipulate it. He sighed heavily. "Bennett, can you-?"
She nodded, jumping from her seat, nearly dropping her coffee down the back of another analyst. "Yeah, I got it,"
"Bring up the blueprints and photos of the main gala interior," he considered again, "...please,"
With a flick of her hand, she recovered the frozen images, setting to constant 360-rotation. She leaned back against the wall near the conference room door.
"No direct engagement," Barton continued. "Banner will be in the data center. I'm running security and recon inside the gala. As the dapper society photographer,"
Banner wrinkled his nose before taking another sip of his tea.
"Bennett, you're on detail as part of wait staff. You'll be able to move through the crowd and up floors without interference because Osborne has directed the gala will be held between the 1st-floor ballroom and the roof space on the 78th floor. And the elevator? I'm sure you can figure out to make it go where you need,"
She nodded. "I've figured out that their data holdings are stored between the 31st and 33rd floors." she looked at Barton. "I know the data originally pointed to the 23rd, but you can't really hide the massive heat signatures that data storage units give off. It's finding the main control unit that might be more difficult. Security rotation is what worries me. With the gala-,"
Banner pointed at Bennett with his pen, "I had the same thought, Doctor Bennett." he looked at Clint. "The fact that Osccorp definitely knows that they're raising eyebrows means they're also raising the security to combat little things like break-ins and federal investigations,"
"Cool it, Stormy Suzy," Barton said. "Consider your path cleared, Bennett. Well, as much as we can. Think you can handle yourself out there?"
Her mouth curved upward. "It'll be more interesting than most of my Friday nights,"
Barton clapped Banner on the shoulder. The other man glared when he nearly spilled his tea. "Well, if the family's all in agreement." he looked between the pair. "Wheel's up in ten. I need to change. I refuse to wear leather and a suit,"
-O-
"Hot plate! Coming on your left!"
Balancing a serving tray, Maren wound in around the other wait staff and chefs in the industrial kitchen. She never imagined she would have to pick up a serving tray after she retired from waitressing her junior year of high school. But she still remembered one important rule. If you looked like you were in enough of a hurry in the kitchen, no one bothered to stop and ask questions.
A dull roar of conversation emanated down the hall as she strode out of the kitchen. Dishes clanging, chefs yelling turned into a soft cello quartet and refined chatter when she neared the employee entrance to the ballroom. She handed the tray off to another person with empty hands when she sped through the swinging door into the corridor opposite the ballroom.
"Osborne's PA needs refills on the crab quiches, ASAP," she told the kid over her shoulder. His eyes widened, and he spun on his heel, dashing back into the ballroom.
Blueprints and instructions from Barton ran like a newsreel in her mind. Down the furthest corridor, three rights, and a left, then to the service elevator.
She ripped the long white apron off herself, tossing it across a food cart with fresh dinner rolls. Pulling the short red bob off her head, she shook out her own brown curls. Tapping the side of her pants, the fabric drew taut around her, changing from a cheap polyester to a fitting leather. Her heeled boots stayed the same, but she wished Barton had approved the Vans she had already been wearing.
Maren wondered if this was what the Widow felt like, or if Barton ever remembered her on ops like this.
She jabbed the elevator button, stepping inside as another throng of wait staff crowded the hallway. She clipped her Oscorp ID to the bottom of her white button-down.
Probably not. She could be a sentimental sap when she wanted to be.
Tucking her hair behind her ear, she switched on the hidden comm in her ear, the receiver in her earring. "I'm in. Heading to the 31st floor first,"
Barton's voice replied instantly. "Copy. I'm in position. I've planted the malware bots near the main trunk lines." Cello music sounded over his end. "I hope they're not expecting actual pictures from me,"
"As long as the lens cap is off, I think you'll be ok,"
Maren tried not to smile at Banner's jab.
Barton gasped, "So he jokes? It feels dirty, wrong." He paused. "Do it again,"
Maren imagined the rueful half-smile Banner was giving inside the surveillance unit outside the building.
Banner cleared his throat, "Can we focus? Please?"
Maren took a step back when a drunken couple staggered into the elevator car. She helped when the man couldn't quite hit the 23rd floor button to the accounting floor. Granted, she would also find it difficult to grope another human while also groping for the correct floor. She grimaced when the man thanked her, still shoving tongue down the other woman's throat. She only nodded,
"No problem,"
When the elevator abruptly stopped at the 23rd floor, she would have rolled a red carpet for the two of them to leave faster. The elevator door closed, and she made a face at herself in the elevator mirror.
"They smelled so bad," she whispered to herself. "So…so many regrets in the morning,"
"Come again, Bennett," Barton said.
"Nothing. I'm just remembering why I hate people,"
"You forgot?"
She smirked, "Momentary lapse in judgement,"
The next few floors passed in silence. She tried slowing her heartrate the closer she got to the thirty-second floor.
Deep breath, Maren. She told herself. What was it that Logan used to tell her? Before everything went to shit. She pretended she hated it whenever he mentioned it. Something like, if ya don't get a hold of your tits, M-
The elevator dinged. A helpful voice chimed, "Thirty-second floor." Maren straightened her glasses, activating a filter which hid her features. "Please, show ID and features for security recognition,"
Maren tilted her head when a camera lowered from the ceiling. She squinted when a red LED scanned over her face.
"Welcome, Doctor Jennifer Blythe,"
The elevator door opened, and Maren pushed off her heels, darting from the elevator. She slowed her pace as other figures in white lab coats hurried around the hallways. This floor was filled with glass walls with each unit containing everything from monkeys to genetically altered pineapple. She turned her head downward,
"Guys, I don't think this is it. There's absolutely no room for any kind of major data storage on this floor,"
Banner tapped awy on his computer. "No, you're right. With the tracers Barton placed downstairs, it looks like all major power is still going to 32 and 33,"
"Process of elimination, I like it," Clint said. "Get a move on, Bennett. The suit is starting to chafe,"
There was a retort about leather and spandex to be made, but Maren lost it when a light flashed above her. Four guards approached, and her heart stopped. Two of them broke away into the lab containment, assisting one of the scientists contain a spider-monkey. She hoped the animal ripped their eyebrows off.
She spotted the stairwell door, moving in between the last two security guards on their rounds. She flashed a quick smile at one of them. Scanning her ID, the door opened, and she jogged up the stairs, stopping when she reached the white door reading '32' in blocked green lettering.
Cool air rushed against her as she opened the door. The three gaged lock reverberated when it closed behind her. Her heeled boots clacked against the concrete floor while the dull whir of hardware cooling fans eeked into the hallway. There were no workers or wandering security guards. She heard Barton ask if she reached the mainlines, but the silence made her wary to speak. She gave an affirming hum instead. Luckily, he seemed to understand.
"Banner, the datalines are directly above my position. Get her there,"
Banner's cautious typing sounded over Maren's comm. "Ok, I'm locked. Doctor Bennett, go a hundred more yards, then make a left,"
She didn't know whether to be relieved or worried when she didn't bump into anyone. The cold air raised goosebumps against her flesh. She veered onto the next left. The low whirring became louder. "Well, that sounds like a good sign," she murmured to herself.
"The line's a little bit of a back door," Barton said. "It only holds the superficial company record keeping- employees, charities, benefits. You'll have to sift through to get to the other lines,"
She reached the last door at the end of the hall. "I'll get sifting. I'm just glad there aren't anymore glass walls," She swiped her badge and scanned an overlayed false fingerprint. The lock buzzed, and she ducked inside.
Barton continued, "I'll meet you at extraction. Seventeen minutes, but let's make it faster,"
"Copy,"
In the data storage room, it felt like the temperature skyrocketed twenty degrees. Rows and rows, infinite almost, of data storage towers extended down the room. A fine sheen of sweat beaded around her forehead. Taking a long cord from her pocket, she strode across the room before nervousness could paralyze her legs. The Stark-designed phone in her pocket rivaled any supercomputer on the market. Jacking into the system wasn't nearly as difficult as she thought it would be.
Setting the phone down face-up, holograms of data surrounded her, coded in binaries. A flick of her wrist and it changed to graphs, articles, photos, alphabetized lists, and Excel sheets. Most of it was garbage, information listed on all of Oscorps websites. Suddenly, she stopped her frantic movements in scanning information when she spotted three different images of Norman with his wife and son. She pulled the images closer. Each photo was identical to the others, but the color… Something about the color.
Her eyes widened. "Oh my god. I know what it is," her movements became frantic again as she began the download. "Over a terabyte. Are you kidding me?"
Banner's voice came before Barton's, "What is it? What did you find?"
She overlaid the images together, manipulating the pictures, changing each to the original binary codes. She murmured, "It's an image sequence,"
Barton's voice showed his impatience, "A what?"
She repeated herself at a normal volume, "It's an image sequence. Like a digital puzzle that can hide a bunch of information. Colors in digital pictures are just numbers, right?"
Banner continued, "So you could theoretically hide anything in them?"
"Not just theoretically." she swiped across her hologram display, "There's at least thirty images here with a terabyte of information each,"
"How long?"
"Not long. I just need-,"
The fluorescent lights above her went black before the emergency reds flickered on. Pins and needles broke across her skin, down her arms, as adrenaline flooded her chest. She froze in the darkness. Two seconds stretched before the alarm blared. On instinct, she covered her ears, yelling,
"What the hell is that!?" Clint snarled into his comm. "Banner, is that you?"
"Negative. That is inside the building,"
Their voices spurred her into motion again. She slid her hands against the screens.
"Bennett, what's going on?" Barton demanded.
"I- I don't know. It's not me." She spat out, pulling up the security cameras and sensors throughout the buildings. Angry red dots denoted security guards, and several groups split into two directions- one toward her, the other toward the main gala floor where Barton still was. "Clint, we're blown. Get out now,"
Clint's response turned the air blue before he said, "Banner, organize the extraction. We're coming out sooner than expected. Bennett, get a move on,"
The loading bar for the pictures inched more than halfway complete. Maren shook her head after she looked at the progress of her downloads, "I need at least four more minutes,"
Returning to her keyboard, she shut down the blaring alarm before any other attempts at disabling the security were pre-emptively shutdown. She heard Barton's fist make solid contact against another person. "Damn it," he muttered before he seemed to comprehend what she said. "What, no. Absolutely not. That's an order!"
Frustration bled sharply into her response, "I can't! My downloads aren't finished yet. Even though something's tripped a virtual booby trap, the coded pictures were hidden so well. I wasn't supposed to find it, and I can't leave without them,"
"Fine," Barton bit out. "I'm coming to you then. Get an elevator for me. I'll go up the shaft,"
A few moments with the screens, and Maren said, "Alright. Go to elevator three. It has the closest access, and the paneling is older. Easier to pull off,"
It became his time to gripe apparently, "And turn these damn red lights off,"
She stared at the buffering bar, "C'mon, c'mon, c'mon! Hurry up!" She threaded her fingers into her hair, gripping slightly.
A crash behind her, and she whirled around, positioning herself in front of her screens. She could play this off. The badge still hung from her shirt.
In the shadow of the doorway, two hulking men stood. The one in front raised his arm. A shot rang out, and fire banded around her ribs. Maren fell.
