Chapter 6

A 7-year-old Harry jumped off the bed when he heard a sudden but expected banging on the metallic door. He was in a 4 by 4 meter cell with a bed whose frame was made of steel and was attached to the ground, so it cannot be used as a weapon. On the right side, there was a wooden desk glued to the ground as well, obviously, for the same reasons. Various books sat atop the desk, most of them were about literature, science, computers and cultures. The notebooks were filled with countless intricate scribblings of numerous scientific hypothesis and theories. The adjacent wall was home to drawings of monkeys in a nearly perfect horizontal line and it continued to the next line and so on. He had drawn them to count the days he spent in the cell after he was moved here but he stopped counting after 4 months. The only source of light was a dimmed light bulb dangling off the ceiling. All things considered; it was a rather dreary place for a 7-year-old kid to be living in.

"19E, you know the drill, step away from the door and place both your hands on the opposite wall." The guard, on the other side of the door, snapped. "Failure to comply will force me to take you to The Room." He said sternly but he could sense a hint of sadism in his tone.

The 7-year-old quivered reflexively upon hearing that. He remembered the last time his instructor took him to The Room was the place where they were all tortured and conditioned. He still had scars on his chest and back from the beatings he received. But the torture wasn't always physical, most of the time it was focused more on the psychological side.

He put both his hands on the cold and uncomfortable wall and waited for the guard to enter. Honestly, he wasn't sure why the guards verbalized the same thing everyday. Maybe because it helped to signify the fact that they were the one in-charge.

He heard the familiar creak of the heavy door and felt the guard snapping handcuffs on him. The guard was wearing a standard black uniform and was equipped with a taser rod and a sidearm. Both weapons were fingerprint activated. After ensuring that Harry was secured, the guard nudged him with his gun to walk.

Harry didn't dare disobey and walked outside his cell. Like everyday, the corridor was bustling with activity as the guards led the subjects to their classes. He could see some of the impatient guards manhandling the cuffed trainees. Ignoring them, he continued his walk to the class with the occasional nudging from the guard.

The handcuffs weren't meant to prevent them from escaping, it was meant as a safety precaution for the guards because all of the trainees were dangerous. A year ago, a trainee stabbed a guard multiple times with his own knife. The mutilated body of the guard was found with his organs lying outside his body with the girl crouching beside him. A month later, her mangled body was found hanging in the cafeteria with both her arms and legs amputated. It seemed that she had been in the care of the guards and doctors for a month. Finally, they hanged her body to serve as an example to anyone who would try to disobey. After that episode, the guards were more cautious of them and some were downright hateful. They equipped themselves with fingerprint activated weapons and the trainees were forced to wear handcuffs from their cells to classes.

Harry was cut out of his musings when he reached the training grounds. It was a large open place with various equipment to practice combat such as punching bags, weapons for hand-to-hand, target practice. This was the main place for physical activities. There were trees surrounding the ground which were good for hiding during The Thinning for a sneak attack. The thinning was a combat activity to sort the weak ones out and replace them with the new ones.

Without wasting any second, he went to the other students and stood beside them in an attention stance. Most of them were around 12-13-year-old but he was the youngest one in the class, not because of his physical strength but because of his intellect. He had moved through class to class because of his underhanded tactics, and sneaky attacks. His instructors didn't mind it, so he continued his behavior. Being the youngest one in the class made a lot of the students jealous and some of them were out for his blood, judging by the glares sent his way. But he ignored them with practiced ease.

Their instructor, a man in his late forties, was watching them all like a hawk, trying to discern any vulnerability and exploit it in the future. He was a military-like man and tolerated no mistakes.

"Silence!" he barked, even though everyone was silent. "19E and 17E, step forward". 'E' was their group name, and 'the number' was their serial number in the class. That was their name here. Every time a trainee dies his name is passed on to the next, which happens almost everyday. It was like this so that it will be easier to change names in the future when they will be put in the field.

They were going to fight one another today. These exercises have been common since they were moved to this facility. Before this, most of their classes were theory and physical conditioning.

He stepped forward showing no emotion on his face. This was the key to survival, to show no weakness. He turned towards the left and saw the other student stepping forward as well. She was a 12-year-old girl, who was known for her agility and quick reflexes.

"Begin." The instructor, whose name was still a mystery to them, barked.

She was the first to attack. She ran towards him and threw her weight into the punch. As her body shifted forward, he turned to avoid the attack and drove his fist into her face. As expected, it pushed her back but the force in the punch was not enough to hurt her. He was after all a 7-year-old kid. She didn't show it, but he knew that the punch had angered her. Good. She ran towards him doing a front flip, using the momentum to kick him in the face. He fell on his side and broke a rib. The pain was intense but bearable. He got up, blearily and saw the instructor throwing a baseball bat between them to make the fight more interesting. He knew it was futile to get to it before her because of his short legs and broken rib. She picked up the bat and swung it at his knees, dislocating it. While he was down, she brought down the bat on his head, knocking him down on the ground. He saw stars and couldn't think properly for a moment because of the intense pain. It was unbearable. He also may have a concussion. When he came to, he saw his opponent standing above him, relaxed, believing him to be down for good. It was the perfect moment to strike. So, he used the opportunity to sweep her off her feet by using his uninjured leg. He didn't give her a chance to recover and got on her back and using the bat, he picked from beside her, to put her in a chokehold position with his uninjured knee pressing on her neck.

"There is no room for the weak in this program." The instructor barked. Without looking for his permission, Harry snapped her neck like he had done it many times. Quick and efficient. He stared at her blank eyes for a second, marvelling his work, and went back to join the ranks with his fellow students. He was 18E now.

Harry woke up with a gasp and ran to the attached bathroom to empty his guts. After a good minute of heaving, he flushed the toilet bowl and turned to the mirror. He didn't like what he saw. He looked paler than usual with dark circles under his eyes but the most noticeable thing were his eyes. His emerald green eyes were dull and vacant. No matter how much he wanted to run from his past, he knew it was impossible. Being back in England brought back memories he had been trying to suppress for so long. He knew it was unhealthy and dangerous, but he didn't have the time or resources to play shrink with himself and he sure as hell wasn't going to talk to a psychiatrist. He had a bigger fish to fry.

He pulled out a tiny disk-like device from his pocket and pinned it to his naked chest. The nanites were absorbed by his body and the change was instant. The dark circles disappeared and color returned to his skin. He wasn't using a magical glamour because holding the glamour requires concentration. Concentration which can be used in other areas during the field. So, he made the photostatic veil years ago when he was in Hogwarts. He wanted something foolproof which could not be detected by magic unlike magical glamours.

He quickly did his daily rituals in the washroom and went downstairs to check on Agent Barton. He remembered from his time living here that the last stair creaks, so he avoided stepping on it and went to the living room to check on Barton. He had only lived here for the first three years of his life. The rest were spent elsewhere. He was only a month old when he was left in the doorsteps of the Dursleys. They only took him in because they were afraid of the wizards or as they put it 'Freaks'. But that fear didn't prevent them from raising him as a baby should be raised. They abused him physically and mentally but fortunately he didn't remember most of his time here. He may have eidetic memory but even he couldn't remember his first years of life. Not that it made a difference in the end. When no one checked on him, they thought it was safe to hand him over to someone else. And they did. They sold him to someone else. For money.

Harry arrived at the living room and saw Barton at the same place he left him yesterday. The only difference was that he was covered in a blanket. Not to sound arrogant, but if it weren't for him Barton would have died yesterday. The injuries were simple enough to tend to but easy doesn't mean they weren't dangerous. If left untreated, he would've possibly died from the blood loss. He decided to check on him as Romanoff was nowhere to be seen. As he got closer to Barton, he could see that he was unconscious. He could hear his rapid heartbeat because of the blood loss. He checked his body temperature and concluded he still had a fever and was sweating profusely. But that wasn't his problem now. He was not in any immediate danger and he wasn't Barton's doctor.

Harry sensed Romanoff coming near him with almost silent footsteps but didn't give any reaction. Instead, he jumped when she asked him suspiciously, "What are you doing?" He acted startled to see her and responded to her awkwardly, "Uh… I was just looking if he had any fever." She looked at him, expecting him to continue but he went back to inspecting Barton's wound. "….And?" she asked again in her cool voice. "He has a slight fever, which was to be expected." He said, scratching his nose.

It seemed like her last night's actions were because of her emotional attachment to Barton and she was back to her normal behavior. He observed her and noticed she looked more hostile towards him than before. Perhaps, she was angry at herself for showing emotions and was taking it out on him. It's what he would have done.

Harry saw her holding a file in her hand which she handed to him. Opening the file, he found Blastac's security schematics, not only that but also two employee badges integrated with RFID chip. Most doors were locked with RFID based door access system, but some were password locked. CCTV cameras at every corner of the building and armed guards at every entrance. All in all, the security of the building was tighter than a normal company. He asked her, voice full of surprise, "How did you get this?" It was everything they needed to get in the facility and possibly destroy the mysterious weapon. "I have my ways." She replied, not giving away anything. "And what about agent Barton? He is in no condition to join us on our ….uh…. expedition." He glanced at Barton who was still pale. Romanoff answered without missing a beat, "He will be taken to Heathrow where my contact will take him back to the US while we continue what we came here for. 10 minutes. Get what you need and then we're leaving." And walked off briskly.

They arrived at the airport with Barton's unconscious body with them. The good news was that Clint's health wasn't deteriorating anymore than it already was. But the bad news was that he wasn't getting any better either. Romanoff drove the car glancing at Barton frequently through the mirror, when she thought Harry wasn't noticing.

When the car stopped, he saw several security guards waiting for them. He assumed they were here for Barton. And he was right. Romanoff told him to wait in the car and went with the guards who carried Barton. She met a guy in a grey suit who had sunglasses on. It was Tony Stark. Of course, he would have a way to get Barton back to HQ for treatment. He had many resources at his disposal. He observed the two avengers' and noticed Stark kept glancing at Barton as well which meant he was also worried about the archer. He also kept trying to flirt with Romanoff, but she had a cold mask in place. It seemed she wasn't close to any member of the Avengers, only Barton. Her cold persona made sure of that. After handing Barton over to Stark, Romanoff came back to the car but not before Stark gave her a phone. He didn't know what it was for, perhaps, a secure line to reach him.

Harry was currently wearing a blue shirt with a round rimmed glasses on to give him a nerdy look. He had the ID card, Romanoff had gotten them, attached to his gray cardigan to be recognized as an employee of Blastac. Romanoff was dressed in a black business suit with a white shirt. She also had a wiry pair of glasses sitting on her nose. They were both at the entrance of the building, seemingly engaged in a conversation, while observing all the security. She didn't look like the cold assassin she was known to be but instead oozed the aura of a friendly businesswoman who was talking to a tech guy. As expected, the security was tight but nothing they couldn't handle.

"Have you seen the new Starkpad 2.0? It is even better than the previous one." He asked her excitedly while swiping his card on the turnstile. She played along. "Personally, I liked the old one better…" swiping the card, too. Upon entering they noticed the building was bustling with activity. The staffs were running around doing their everyday activity which will make it easier to blend in.

They were in.