"This damn thing's getting' pretty heavy…" Carson jested. The sweat beading on his forehead belied his levity.
"Hang on buddy," Bradshaw encouraged.
The rest of the team had slowly exited the room quickly explaining to Coulson what had happened. Saez made for the packs they had traipsed across the frozen tundra searching for a containment pod large enough to hold the 0-84. He wasn't even sure that's what it was and it didn't matter. The damn thing had dissolved the four inch thick door and probably wasted the Nazi's sprawled as nothing but uniforms in the now boarded-up room. The man stood back and drew a deep breath to calm himself. Cooper and Lieu were still explaining to Coulson and May…well she wasn't about to let anyone in that storage room.
"Saez!" the woman's voice made him jump almost dropping the small container he held. "Move it." She commanded.
"I'm sorry, ma'am…" he began. "I…I don't think we've got anything large enough to carry it."
"What the hell," May growled. "You drag us all the way out here with no idea what we're looking for and don't have a gawd damn containment pod to hold the damn thing?"
"We didn't expect it to be…" Saez shook his hands then grabbed another pack, almost ripping the zipper open. "Big," he stammered. "They're never big…last one was like…like…" He held up his thumb and index finger in the shape of an 'o'. He really wasn't speaking to May, mostly to himself.
"Move," May snarled as she shoulder butted him to the side and sifted through the equipment in the pack.
Coulson ordered the two young agents to take a breath, then stepped into the large storage room carefully staying behind Carson and the deadly clock. He noticed the young agent's hands trembling.
"Hey, Jack," he began with a calm voice. "How 'bout you tell me exactly what you did before the door got fried." He nodded to Bradshaw, motioning for him to exit the room.
"I'd rather stay, sir." The young agent spoke quietly. "Carson and I go way back…he's my partner, sir. I've got his six no mater what."
Coulson smiled a nod. He understood partners. He wouldn't leave May and knew she'd stick next to him even if he did something stupid.
"I just picked it up and this angel looking thing felt loose. I turned it just a notch and…well…" he tipped his head toward the door.
"Okay," Coulson replied. "Nothing since?"
"No sir," both men answered together.
"Feel anything?" He asked.
"Only my arms turning to concrete…" Carson snickered.
Coulson moved to the large metal hinges lying on the floor. He squatted down and carefully poked a finger at the closest piece. It wasn't hot and felt pretty normal. He picked it up, weighing it in his hand then let it drop. It clanged a bit but held its shape. "How old you suppose this stuff is?" He looked up at Bradshaw.
"No way to be sure without carbon dating it, sir, but I'd guess six hundred years…maybe more."
The senior agent bit his lip and squinted one eye, deep in thought. "So probably iron, huh?"
"Makes sense," Bradshaw agreed.
"Hey guys," Carson blew out a shaky breath. "Like it is no time for medieval history."
Shaking his head, Coulson held up one finger and turned to gaze out the door and across the rotunda. "What are those kerosene barrels made of?"
Bradshaw shrugged. "Some kind of metal…steel I'd guess, probably a lot of iron with all the rust."
Before he finished Coulson had left the room shouting for Saez, Lieu and Cooper. It took them a few minutes but they located an empty barrel with a lid still intact. He shouted directions rapidly. The men moved the barrel into the storage room and slid it in front of Carson. May followed, wondering what kind of half-assed plan this dolt had this time. The last plan landed both of them on the run from some whacked out Russian for four days before the extraction team located them. It took a month for her nose to purge the smell of the manure in that damn goat shed where they hid.
"You drop it in. I'll slam on the lid." He grinned at Carson, holding the lid like a shield.
"But sir…" Carson hesitated.
"He sets that damn thing off and this whole place comes down on us." May objected.
Coulson shook his head. "I don't think so."
May rolled her eyes. "Like you're some kind of physicist now," she almost laughed.
"No, May but look." He nodded toward the hinges. "It took out the wooden door but the metal is still intact. And the soldiers…their bodies are gone but their uniforms…their boots and weapons are still here. And not one rock is disturbed."
May closed her eyes and exhaled loudly. "And?" She groaned.
Bradshaw stepped forward, suddenly realizing what Coulson was saying. "And whatever it is, it dissolves organic material but not metals or synthetics. It's all still here."
May glanced around the room and wagged a finger back and forth. "Rocks are not man made."
"Well," Bradshaw thought quickly, "maybe it's more than just organic, maybe it's something in the organism, but the rock is still here and there." He nodded toward the gun room. "In any case everything that's metal is still intact."
A loud clank stopped the conversation as Carson's grip loosened and the clock slipped into the barrel. Coulson jumped then slammed the lid on the opening. Everyone froze…waiting…listening…to the silence.
xx
Skye sipped tea and nibbled a piece of toast before slipping off the chair and curling up on Mrs. Gibbons' big comfy couch. Muffy the cat leapt into the little girl's lap, purring loudly as she stroked her back. Both fell asleep curled into a tight ball. Celia pulled a small throw from the back of the sofa and tucked it around the child. Muffy jumped down, miffed at being disturbed but within minutes had returned to her perch along side the little girl.
"It is unlike this little one to sleep so often." William shook his head.
"Possibly the fever working on her or the medication I gave her, but I am sure the worry about what may happen has taken its toll. Sleep takes all of that away. It isn't surprising." Celia tsked. "If she hasn't improved by lunch today it would probably be well to call her pediatrician." She frowned at the look of worry on William's face. "I'm sure I have it here."
William nodded. "I too have all of the numbers Mellie felt might be needed."
Celia patted his arm. "Yes, I am sure she did."
They returned to the table, enjoying each other's company over their tea. Celia told him of her plan to contact her son as soon as she was sure he was at his office. He was a corporate lawyer, but she was sure he could put her in contact with a colleague that might help. There were also a few judges she still had contact with and had been friends of her husband. She was sure all had retired by this time but she would do what she could to reach them.
"All of this will take time," William sighed, tapping the edge of his tea cup with one finger. "I fear we may not have much to spare. Mrs. Roffman was quite adamant about making her report."
"I just don't understand." Celia sighed as she set her cup on its saucer. "The home Melinda provides is immaculate and Skye is happy and has adjusted so well. She bases all of her objections on the fact your daughter is away on business?"
William shook his head. "I feel it is due more to my not being able to directly contact her."
"Pishaw!" Celia spat. "In this town four out of five parents have jobs that put them in the same position. It has little to do with their ability to parent. Melinda loves that little girl." She shook her head.
William nodded. "It is very easy to fall in love with this child." He smiled. "I have known her for so short a time and yet feel as if she is my own blood. It may seem strange but I see so much of my Mellie in her. I cannot stand by and watch either of them be broken."
"Melinda has told me of the place where Skye lived before coming here." Celia shook her head. "It was not a good environment. She cannot go back there."
"Mellie would never allow it." William sighed. He thought for a moment then continued. "I have placed a call to her agency. The situation warranted I do so. They will return the call but I cannot say when."
"But you will never…" The woman began, wondering why William would agree to sharing breakfast here in her apartment.
William patted his pocket. "There is but one call this phone can receive. I will not put it more than an arm's reach away." He drank the last of his tea and stood to place his dishes in the sink. Celia waved him back down. "I will help clean then take Skye to her own bed and make myself more presentable."
Celia glanced over her shoulder and smiled at the sight. "I think she is comfortable right there and Muffy will be quiet upset if you move her cuddle buddy." She turned back to William. "You go do what you need to do. I will take care of this mess and start making calls." She stood and helped him away from the table to the door. "You have nothing to worry about, William. Skye will be safe with me."
xx
"I'm sorry, sir." Lieu shook his head. "We're too far under…under what ever is up there for the sat-phone to receive a signal."
Coulson drew a breath and grabbed the yellow phone from the young man. He pressed the three digit code that would connect him to the extraction team waiting a few hours away. The instrument remained dead air. "What the hell good is this thing if we get no reception?"
"Could be the storm as well, sir." Lieu shrugged. "Probably a combination of both the rock and all that snow blowing around up there, no direct line to the satellite."
Tossing the phone back to Lieu, Coulson drew a deep breath and turned toward the pile of rubble atop the rock staircase. "Guess that means one of us has to get out side."
Lieu shook his head and shifted his feet. "If the storm is stilling swirling like it was when we dropped in here, there's no chance in hell of getting out a message."
Coulson kicked at the small gravel on the rock floor. "Won't be the first bad decision made on this mission. Set the charges. Get us out of here."
Lieu gave a quick nod and headed toward the rest of the team.
May pushed herself away from the wall she'd been leaning against. She uncrossed her arms and stood next to Coulson staring at the same pile of rubble. "No telling what's up there." She remarked without emotion.
"Can't be worse than what we've got." Coulson snipped. "I'm guessing that damn clock is the thing we're looking for so all we've got to do is make contact and get you home…get all of us home."
"Not without that sat-phone." May reminded him.
"More like without all the rock and that damn snow."
"If Stark hid the clock…." May started.
"Must have found it after," he turned toward her as two men began setting charges in the rubble. "My guess is Stark hid whatever the damn thing is in the clock. They tried to get it out and Skkkkttttzzz." He held up his hands like claws and pulled back his lips.
May sucked in one side of her mouth and raised an eyebrow. "So' how'd it get from there," she nodded toward the gun room, "to there." She threw a thumb over her shoulder. "No bodiless uniforms in sight." She finished with an almost invisible shoulder shrug.
Coulson shrugged his lip. "Maybe it flung itself back after zapping the guards."
May took a few steps toward the bolted door. "There's four uniforms in there, Coulson." She rolled her eyes around the area. "You think the Nazi's set this place up for four men."
"Maybe they were just guards," Coulson shrugged. "Just sitting on this place til they could move this stuff."
"Fire in the hole," Lieu warned as the team sought cover.
Coulson and May stepped into the corridor, pressing themselves close to the wall and covered their ears.
The explosion was more of a 'FOOF' than a 'BOOM', but it sent debris in all directions.
For a moment everyone froze, listening to the bits and pieces fall to the floor in plunks and plinks. The smoke cleared slowly with little ventilation to pull it out of the enclosed space. The teams coughing to clear their throats of dust and silt could be heard through the haze. May shifted her shoulder trying to remove the weight against her back.
"Ok, Coulson you can get off me." May growled, but couldn't help the grin he didn't see. What a dork! She could wipe the floor with his ass yet there he was covering hers. She could feel his breath against the nape of her neck. Again she shoulder butted him. "Coulson get your sweaty carcass…" she turned while speaking catching him before he slid to the floor.
"Coulson," she barked, easing down to sit against the wall. "Damn you, Coulson. What the hell?"
She took his face in her hands, kneeling on the rock floor before him. Shaking his head gently, she repeated his name then let out a breath and pushed her hands to the back of his head, feeling for any injury. She tugged him forward until his cheek pressed against her shoulder. A dagger sized shard of wood jutted out just below his right scapula. May swallowed the gasp, slowly lowering him to the floor, resting on his left side.
"Saez!" She shouted over the men's cajoling and congratulating each other. "Bradshaw!"
"Coulson's down!"
xx
William stood before the door to his daughter's apartment. He'd seen the yellow envelope taped to the door the moment he started up the hall from Celia's home. Melinda's name was scrawled in careless script. Turning the key in the lock, he snatched the note from the door and stepped inside.
The man carried the unofficial mail to the kitchen and tossed it on the table immediately noticing it was not sealed. William debated opening something that may be confidential and meant only for Melinda. He paced to the hall and back wondering who could have left such a thing and why not contact his daughter by phone. Years with Lian May had told him no agency would try to contact an operative in such a manner. He grabbed the envelope and pulled out the note before second guessing.
He read the scribbled note quickly, squashing it in his hand as soon as he finished. William May rarely let anger direct his actions. He had learned long ago it was wasted energy and there were many ways to put that energy to positive actions. Exercise and meditation had helped him through many episodes, but now he let the anger free swearing loudly in Mandarin. He thanked fate that his daughter and granddaughter were not there to hear such language. Slamming through the laundry room he knocked the back door into the wall behind it, putting the knob through the plaster. He marched down the short hall and punched the garbage chute cover open, belting the wadded paper into the darkness that lead to the basement incinerator. There was no way he would chance Skye reading that horrid woman's words.
William drew a deep breath and pounded back to the apartment slamming the door with a hollow bang. Tea would do him no good at this time. He reached above the refrigerator for a small key and stormed across the kitchen to the credenza where Skye's dragon perched, lolling it's long tongue in mock anger. The man quickly unlocked the sliding door and pulled out a bottle of amber liquid. Once back in the kitchen he slammed a small glass on the table, filled it and threw back the contents in one swallow. It burned down his throat but not enough to discourage him from taking a second hit. With a loud bang he pounded the glass on the table, thrust the top back on the bottle and ran the back of his hand across his mouth before dropping into the nearest chair.
Veronica Roffman had noted choosing to run or hide the child called Mary Sue Poots would only cause more trouble for him and his daughter. He would be charged with kidnapping and even at his age would spend a great deal of time in prison. She gave him forty-eight hours to return the child to the apartment and prepare her to accompany the case worker and security personnel to the custody of the District. She noted the specific time she would return in two days.
William lowered his head to his hands a moment before feeling the phone vibrate in his pocket. He pulled it free quickly.
"May," he said simply.
"You're party has gone dark. They cannot be contacted at this time. You will be contacted should conditions become favorable." A robotic voice informed him.
"zero-two-six," William stated clearly, recalling the distress code and hoping it had not changed or this agency had one of their own.
The phone clicked twice and went silent. William moved it before him and stared at it. A silly motion but something done by so many in disbelief. He put it back to his ear and waited.
"This is William May." He began, hoping someone was listening. "I must contact Melinda May. This is an emergency."
"William?" A deep voice responded. William did not recognize it.
"Yes," he nodded his head. "I am Melina's father. It is urgent I speak to her." For a moment it was silent and William thought the connection had been lost.
"This is highly irregular, William. How did you get…" the voice was angry.
"I am no stranger to this procedure. My daughter has given me this information to use in case of extreme emergency. Her child is in danger. I must speak with her."
"Damn," the voice swore away from the phone but still audible. "Is the child hurt?"
William shook his head. "She is not. However, she will be taken from this home if I cannot speak with my daughter." Again the line went dead. William waited.
"I'm sorry, William." Now the voice was concerned. "We've lost contact with the team. We are doing all we can. I'm afraid that's all I can say."
"But…" William began but this time the soft click told him the call had been lost.
xx
Nick Fury slammed his acient phone against the receiver. "Damn, damn, DAMN!" He growled before pressing a button on the desk. A voice answered. "Anything on Coulson's team," he demanded.
"Nothing sir," the voice quickly replied.
The man swore under his breath. "I want that team found, now!" He ordered. "And ready my Quinjet."
xx
Skye curled into Mrs. Gibbon's lap as the older woman rocked in the large cushioned rocker set in her living room. She patted the little girl's back and held her chin against the child's head. She hummed a nameless tune and shushed her softly. Skye's still felt a bit warm. She sniffled softly.
"The case lady's gonna take me and I ain't never gonna get ta see my May." She mumbled into Celia's embrace.
"Let's not think like that, sweetheart. You know that case workers have to check on the children they place. It's their job, honey." Celia tried to console her. "Your gran…Yéyé and I are going to do everything we can to make sure you stay right here."
Skye shook her head. "I really wannada see that big ol' Christmas tree and maybe even maybe see what happens when that Sanna guy spose ta come." She snuggled closer. "May said id be a sprize."
"Oh, sweetheart, don't give up." Celia kissed the top of her head and hugged her closely.
"I doun feel so good, Miss Gibbons." Skye moaned, "I think my pijammas are makin me feel yucky."
Mrs. Gibbons smiled at the little girl's comment. She rested her cheek against Skye's forehead. "You're just warm and sweaty from the fever, sweetheart. I think it's time we checked that temperature and had a bit of medicine."
Skye shook her head. "I'm real tired. I just wanna sleep right here. Okay?" She snuggled closer holding tightly to the older woman's robe.
Kissing the child's head again, Mrs. Gibbons smiled. "A few minutes then, little one then temperature and medicine then I will dress while you sleep."
"No," Skye squeaked, raising her head to look in the woman's eyes. "No, please don't go away. Don't let her take me, please. Please, Mrs. Gibbons," the little girl sobbed. "Please find my May, I just need her to hug me one more time."
Celia Gibbons pulled the little girl into a tight hug and rocked again, shushing her softly as tears rolled over her own cheeks.