Chapter 31

Back in her room, an electronic tablet lay on her bed. Laura had come through for her. Picking it up, she turned it on and flipped through the apps that were installed. There were several popular games that didn't require access to the internet to play and a whole library of books to choose from. Going through the titles, she glanced at her pillow where she had stashed the biography. Her finger hovered over a best seller but stopped. Frankie set the tablet down on the bedside table and pulled the biography out from under the pillow. Making herself comfortable, she opened it to the page where she had left off reading the night before.

She reached the part where the Army was carting him all over the place and using him to bolster confidence in the war, but he was chaffing because he wasn't really doing anything important. When he complained to his handlers, one of them told him:

"You're a symbol, Steve. People need that. Those soldiers over there fighting this war? The American people don't know them. You put a face to them. You give the people something to cheer about and rally behind. You represent all the brave men giving their lives to defeat Hitler and his thugs."

But in his biography, Steve wondered why he couldn't do both. He argued that, as a super-soldier, he had an obligation to both the American people and the soldiers overseas. To do nothing with the powers he had been given was a slap in the face. A waste.

Putting the book down and turning off the lamp, Frankie pondered his dilemma. She could see his point to an extent. Imagine being a brilliant concert pianist, but never allowed to actually play. Around and around her mind went, trying to reconcile her new understanding of SHIELD and the Avengers with her feelings on the matter. After tossing and turning in bed for nearly an hour, she turned the light back on and picked up the tablet.

Maybe playing mindless games would help.

They didn't.


After the revelation from Dr. Raynor, Frankie wasn't surprised when her appointments for the rest of the week were cancelled. She was grateful that the doctor got her back on the right track but was leery of who exactly was pulling her strings. Even though she delivered a message purportedly from Rory, Frankie wasn't 100% sure. While it didn't make sense why someone working for Glenda would help her overcome the damage that the evil bitch had inflicted, she couldn't completely rule out the possibility.

The whole thing made her paranoid as hell.

Stranger still, her morning interrogation was also cancelled. She wondered if they had decided she was tapped out or if they had something else brewing that was more important than her. The morning drug by without the diversion of her appointment. She finished reading Steve Roger's biography around mid-morning. Instead of providing clarity, his rejection of a controlling authority over enhanced individuals just provided more fertilizer for the seed of doubt slowing growing in her mind.

Even more alarming, though, were his views of Hydra and its activities against SHIELD, the Avengers, and the governments of the world. Despite what Rory had told her about the negative propaganda perpetuated by SHIELD, his account of events rang true. Frankie found herself wondering if Rory was deliberately deceiving her or if he was the one being deceived. As a kid, he had been street-smart and critical of other's intentions, even worse than her. She found it hard to believe that as deeply involved in Hydra as he was, that he wasn't aware of the truth. That only left on conclusion: he was lying to her. But to what end?


Around lunch, there was a light knock on her door.

"Yeah?"

She was slightly disappointed when Laura opened the door. Where the hell did that come from?

"Ready for lunch?"

"Absolutely." Frankie set the tablet aside.

"I thought you might like to go to the cafeteria," the agent suggested.

"Even better," Frankie grinned and jumped up to find her shoes. "Oh, thank you for the tablet."

"I'm sorry I wasn't able to get you a TV, but I guess that's better than nothing."

"Oh, it's been a godsend," Frankie assured her. "Especially today."

The two chatted about the weather and other inconsequential things during the short walk. When they got to the cafeteria, they joined the short line working its way past the hot entrées. Frankie chose the fried catfish, hushpuppies, and slaw. Loading up on sweet pickles at the salad bar, she followed Laura to a table by the windows, where she dug into her food with gusto.

Laura watched her, bemused, "you'd think we haven't been feeding you."

"Sorry," she swallowed and took a drink, "I haven't really felt like eating for a few days and now I'm starving."

The agent waved away her apology, "don't worry about it. You need to regain your strength anyway." She dropped her voice so that the occupants at the tables nearest them couldn't here, "if you're going to get out of her, you'll need it."

Frankie almost choked on a bite of pickle. Coughing until she was red in the face, others paused their meals and conversations to look over at the two women.

Laura's lips twitched as she suppressed a smile. Damnit, she did that on purpose, Frankie thought crossly.

When she was able to breathe again, she frowned at the woman, "what did you say?"

"Oh, I think you heard me just fine," Laura said smoothly, sipping her drink to his her smirk. "But this isn't the time or place."

"You're just going to drop that on me and not explain?"

"Don't worry, you'll find out soon enough. Plans are in place." She pointed at Frankie's plate, "finish your meal, I've got other things to do."

Frankie stared at her for a moment longer, then when it was obvious nothing more was forthcoming, she picked up her fork. Her appetite was gone now, but if what she was hearing was true, Laura was right; she would need her strength. Coupled with what Dr. Raynor told her yesterday, she had no reason to doubt the agent. It also explained why the agent had been so friendly towards her.

Unless, of course, it was all a setup.


Her day didn't get any better when Clint didn't show up that afternoon for their run. When she questioned her guards, they told her he was off the campus, but nothing more. Frustrated, she went back to the tablet, thankful that she at least had it for entertainment.


She was in a foul mood when Laura knocked on her door the next morning. Despite being bored out of her mind, sleep hadn't come easily and when she did sleep, her dreams were filled with no-win scenarios that all ended in her imprisoned on the Raft or dead. She wasn't sure which was worst.

Laura escorted her to the cafeteria again, this time not joining her in line. When Frankie asked, the agent said she had eaten already. The woman ahead of her in line was the same one she had seen eating with the blonde a few days ago. Again, there was a nagging feeling of familiarity about her, but damn if Frankie could figure it out. Maybe she just had one of those faces, after all, she did bear a slight resemblance to herself. The woman's complexion was lighter, but still, the two of them could be mistaken for sisters, or at least relatives.

The line moved, but the woman obviously wasn't paying attention because she didn't move with it. Frankie edged closer to her.

"Hey," she said to get the woman's attention, "the line's moving."

She watched the woman's eyes dart at the person in front of her in line, then back to Frankie, then she whispered, "hail Hydra."

Just how many Hydra operatives were there on this campus, Frankie thought. Hell, if there were any more, they might outnumber the SHIELD agents.

"Excuse me?" she asked, just to be sure.

"Look, we don't have much time," the woman said hurriedly not facing her. "I've been instructed to get your help planting a listening device tomorrow."

"I don't know you and you don't know me, so I'll make this easy for you. I'm a prisoner here. There's no way I can help you. You have the wrong person."

She shook her head, "Laura will make sure you're where you need to be. Just be ready." She hesitated then added, "then we'll get you out of here and back where you belong: with the Commander."

Frankie realized this must be what Dr. Raynor and Laura were talking about. She nodded her understanding, "I'll be ready."

"I'll see you tomorrow morning, then. Stay safe."

With those parting words the other woman closed the gap between her and the others in the line, leaving Frankie.

"Hey," the trainee behind her nudged her with an elbow, "you going to move or what?"

As Frankie watched the Hydra operative get her breakfast, she realized why the other woman seemed so familiar.

She had seen her at the underground facility on at least two occasions.


Back at her room, Clint leaned casually against the wall in the hall. Dismissing Laura, he held the door open for Frankie and followed her into the room.

"What happened to you yesterday?" she asked casually, trying to act as if it hadn't bothered her.

"Had to go help a friend out of a hot spot he was in," he said off-handedly as he walked around the room like he was casing it. He stopped and picked up her tablet. "When did you get this?"

"Yesterday," she answered. "One of the agents got it for me, which was a good thing because, I was pretty much stuck in this box all day," she told him darkly.

His head came up at that, "what? Didn't you see Dr. Raynor?"

She shook her head, "she cancelled our appointments for the rest of the week."

He considered the tablet for a moment more, then set it back on the table. "I think she's helping Dr. Bennet with something."

"Well, it makes for a hell of a boring day when you're under house arrest."

He continued his surveillance of the room.

"You know, if you told me what you were looking for, I could save you some time," she crossed her arms across her chest.

"Who says I'm looking for anything?"

"You're not too good at this, are you?"

"What?"

"You should really stick to shooting arrows at aliens and turning mobsters into steak tartar." She a pause for a beat, "oh, and abducting innocent women."

That got a snort and a shake of his head, "so, back to the innocent victim act?"

"I was always innocent. I was just in the wrong place at the wrong time." She was proud of herself for saying it with a straight face.

His lip twitched, "really?"

"Absolutely."

They stared at each other, daring the other to be the first to break. As it was, they both started smiling at the same time. Then laughing.

"That's better," Clint said.

"What's better?"

"You," he grinned. "When you smile. I don't think I've actually seen a real smile from you until now."

"That's not true," she protested. "I smile all the time."

"Not like that. Usually if you smile, it's more of a smirk. Like you're pulling something over on everybody. Or it's vicious or cruel, like someone just got stabbed and you think it's hilarious."

"Wow," she clutched her chest and grinned, "that's brutal."

"And that's exactly what I'm talking about." He jabbed a finger in her direction.

"Touché," She smiled. "But back to the question: what are you looking for?"

"You're not going to let it go, are you?"

"You seem to know me so well. What do you think?"

He sighed and rubbed his chin, "will you let it go if we get out of this room right now?"

Ooh! That got her attention.

"I might be persuaded if we can leave this campus."

"Yeah, not going to happen. One hour outside on the campus."

"Two hours and I get to choose where we go."

"Two hours and I have veto power over where you choose."

"Done!" she happily agreed. She would have agreed to one hour and his choice just to get out of this room, but she wasn't going to let him know that.

Before they left her room, she spun around and grabbed the tablet.

Handing it to one of the guards outside her room, she asked him, "you're not a Hydra agent, are you?"

Clint frowned at her as the young agent stammered, "no!"

"Good," she nodded with satisfaction. "Take this and have it searched. Make sure there's no nefarious data, software, or messages from Hydra on it, will you?"

Clint rolled his eyes.

"Oh, and make sure Mr. Barton," she paused, "or do they call you Hawkeye? What do you call him?"

"Hawkeye or Barton," the agent told her.

"Good to know. I'll add that to the intel I'm gathering for Hydra. Anyway, make sure Mr. Hawkeye gets the results, okay?"

"Sure," the agent said slowly looking from Frankie to the exasperated Avenger.

As they left the building, he muttered, "I should have left you in your room. Alone."

The morning was overcast with a breeze blowing, but Frankie didn't care. Even Clint glowering at her couldn't dampen her happiness over being outside in the fresh air. She made her way around the perimeter of the building and down towards the river. Once, trees had stood here, but now all that remained were a few broken remnants and the occasional stump. The ground here had seen none of the maintenance that the area around and between the buildings had, so she had to dodge boulders and deep gouges in the ground. Broken slabs of concrete littered the area, covered with silt and debris.

Frankie knew that the battle with Thanos and his armies had destroyed this area, but the campus was to a point of recovery that only hinted at the disaster. Here, the destruction was obvious everywhere she looked. Glancing over at Clint as he walked beside her, she saw the sorrow and pain in his face as he was reminded of what had happened; everything and everyone the Avengers had lost here. She regretted choosing to come this way, but now she was committed to it.

Even the riverbank bore the scars of the battle as Frankie picked her way upstream to a relatively flat slab of concrete. Ignoring the dirt built up on its surface, she sat down and drew her knees up, wrapping her arms around them and propping her chin on them. Clint stared down at her for a moment before he joined her, laying back with his fingers laced behind his head.

In front of them, the river rolled by with choppy waves from the wind coming off the clouds. Its waters were a deep slate gray echoing the sky stretched out over it. Frankie closed her eyes and let the sound of the wind and river wash over her. She had always loved this weather, the minutes before a storm. The hairs on her arms rose with the unbridled energy preparing to be unleashed.

Her companion lay quietly beside her, leaving her to her thoughts. With his sunglasses on, she couldn't tell if his eyes were open or not. She wondered what he felt about this weather. Or was he still morning the loss of his friends and family?

"Penny for your thoughts," she broke the silence between them.

He didn't stir. No matter, she told herself, at least she was out of her room. He could lay there and be stoic all he wanted. She was going to enjoy herself.

Despite the lack of trees on this side of the river, there were signs that life was renewing itself. Clumps of coarse, hardy grasses had sprung up and she could see a sapling or two reaching out of the bare ground towards the sun. Insects buzzed around them, flitting from one green patch to the next. Beatles raced across the exposed expanses trying to reach new cover as quickly as possible. Birds swooped and dove at both the flying insects and the scurrying ones. Some small, long-legged water bird waded at the waterline, occasionally dipping its long beak into the river in search of prey. Life could always be found, she thought, if you just looked close enough. It would be years, maybe decades, before this area of riverbank returned to the way it had been before the battle, but it would happen eventually. Unless humans intervened to stop it.

Beside her, Clint snored softly, and she suppressed a giggle. Waving her hand in front of his hidden eyes didn't get her a reaction, either. She wondered at him trusting her enough to relax to the point of dozing.

Should she take advantage of the situation and make a run for it? Was this a test? Looking back at the compound, she saw that the main building blocked everything else from view, so unless someone was watching them from one of the windows, they had no audience. How far could she actually get before they noticed she was gone? If she had enough of a head start, she knew she could get away from the man at her side. Plus, he didn't have his famous bow and arrows with him, so it would be just him against her. If she was 100% healthy, they would be evenly matched. She might even have the advantage because she didn't play by the rules and he would. The thought of kicking his ass brought another smile to her face.

But there was at least one other Avenger at the compound that she knew of and she was certain she wouldn't stand a chance against him. The super soldier could easily run her down and overpower her. Plus, the other agents wouldn't limit themselves to being on foot. They had the Quinn jets and a host of 4-wheeled vehicles that they would employ to chase her down with. She wouldn't get far before someone caught up with her.

No, she shook her head, smiling ruefully, this was not the time. She needed to sit tight and wait to see what Rory had planned for her escape.

"Good choice," Clint said without moving.

"I hate you."

He smiled, "So you keep saying."

She snorted and turned her back to him. The storm that had threatened had lost a lot of its energy and the sun was peeking out between breaks in the gray clouds.