(7) Two Weeks Later
The Avengers gathered around the long, oblong table of the Situation Room on the Avengers compound. Small hooded ceiling fixtures illuminated the area as auxiliary and primary members gathered around. Given the unfolding circumstances, Cap and put out an all call and Tony Stark sans armour was at the head of the room. Dressed impeccably in Armani and flanked by Colonel Nick Fury.
"What do we truly know?" Wasp spoke first, protocol be damned.
"We know it's a symbiote, we know its evolved- "
"Evolved?" Falcon cut him off, Sam stood up. "Evolved? Have you seen the combat footage? The CCTV? That fuckers beyond evolved. It's Gd like."
"Well, that's going a bit far now," Thor chuckled a bit.
"Is this funny, blondie?" Tony asked.
Thors scowl was as dangerous as a storm cloud, "Levity helps,"
"Bruce?" Tony interrupted, diverting attention to Dr. Banner.
"Thank you, Tony."
Bruce removed his glasses and rubbed the bridge of his nose. "The symbiote you see, Recluse. Is a biological entity with a malleable cellular structure. Like any biological organism over time, its predecessors build up immunities to environments and stimuli, conditions within its environment. Conditions which previously had plagued its species. MRSA is a good example."
"So, we're comparing the serial killer alien with a virus.?" Ant-man asked incredulously
"And aptly so." Bruce continued unfazed. "The symbiote existed in a world very dissimilar to ours. Our world is filled with noise and light, even the tolling of Sunday church bells is a sonic resonance. These things were constantly being bombarded with stimuli which harmed them or irritated them. On an hourly basis in some cases. We utilized those weaknesses again and again instead of formulating better options."
"You're saying this is our fault?" Cap asked
"Collectively, yes." Bruce said matter of fact "Actually, I'm shocked they haven't evolved like this until now."
"Ok, but we are speaking virology versus a complex organism here." Natasha spoke up
"There is no set time for evolution to manifest. I believe Professor Xavier's team is a good model for that answer." Banner countered effortlessly
"In two weeks," Nick Fury cut in, his one good eye engaging everyone as it swept the room. "This symbiote, what used to be Spiderman, AKA Peter Parker. Has killed nine super heroes, two questionable characters and two bad guys. This, motherfucker-
Nick clicked an image and Recluse came into frame. Big and snarling presence.
"Is one of the biggest threats we have faced in a long time. We have all seen the Laboratory footage of Susan."
A somber silence filled the room.
"Vision, you have to know something, some input here?" Cap said pivoting side to side in his chair. Eyes racooned from a lack of sleep.
"Sadly, I do not." The sentient construct replied "He. Is unique. A genuine evolutionary leap forward in a races divergent path when separated. And to that end this creature fascinates me. But I see no way other than to terminate it. And Mr. Parker equally."
"What?" Sam asked. Stunned
"If this being has evolved to the point that it is not affected in any way that we have known or have tried, how then do you intend to separate it from its host, without killing both?"
Another silence, this one reality sinking in. A reality none had wanted to speak until it became a last resort.
"Tony?" Rhodie interrupted "Anything new on Recluse?"
"He's hunting" Tony clicked on an image. A CCTV footage of a camouflaged web snare they had found the corpse of Squirrel Girl in. "Not just hunting, feeding." Another click. Punishers vacant skull. Click. Bucky's empty chest cavity. Click. Silver sable's thoracic cavity exposed and empty.
"That's enough, Tony" Clint spoke up, leaning back in his chair.
Tony stoked his goatee, deep in thought. Sucked in a breath and started in. "It isn't enough. None of it is Gddamnit. It's got our number and pulling our cards. Knows us. Who in here hasn't fought alongside Pete? Hm, show of hands?" He waited rhetorically
"Exactly, that's what I thought. On more then one occasion, hell I mentored the kid. The man is a scientific genius and arguably one of the strongest, if not strongest hero on earth. I don't care how good we think we are, this guy" Click. An Image of Spiderman popped up on the screen. "This guy is the pinnacle. was… Hell, still is."
"Fact of the matter is, this symbiote isn't crazy like Carnage was. It hasn't just enhanced the aggression of the host. It's left the intellect intact completely. He is still that world level genius. Looking and planning for every weakness and eventuality." Fury added
"So short of Nuking New York City, what do we do?" War Machine asked, "Because there's no way a squad of Tier one's are gonna touch him and if we can't, then what?"
"We throw him a curveball" Cap said "Nick,"
Directing everyone back to Fury, Tony brought up the image of a lab and cannister with a dark green colour to it. "Ladies and gentlemen, meet Symbiote eleven, born from generations of testing and tweaking from its great great granddaddy venom." He paused assuring everyone's attention was rapt.
"Now, you all know SHIELD has experimented in theoretical weapons and concepts, and that includes the symbiote known as Venom."
"You've weaponized an alien life form.?" Natasha asked incredulously.
"No, as a matter of fact." Fury clicked another image. Inside a large woodland enclosure rested a large Grizzly bear. "Meet Marko, his brother polo didn't quite make the cut. Marko is a one thousand and five-hundred-pound ball of fluff, love and muscle. Raised before his eyes were open by humans, handled with love, care and affection. Marko was bonded with our symbiote for quite some time. At maturity the animal was bonded and allowed to live out its life inside the environment. A blank slate to create from."
"Blank slate?" Wasp asked
"All the rage, hate and anger directed at Spiderman, gone. The spider like abilities gone." Fury responded
"How'd you manage to do that?" Bruce asked skeptically.
"CRISPR" Nick stated matter of fact. "Then, good old Nature versus Nurture., Doctor Banner."
"And what did you get?" Clint asked
"Selfless, protective and a sheer wall of brute force and Gd help anyone dumb enough to try and harm a human."
"Traits?" Stark asked fascinated.
"Far as we can tell, it's retained its scent and tracking, strength and impulses."
"Aggression enhancement?" Banner asked, his eyes locked on the video of the symbiote taking hold of the bear and completely mauling several of Tony's Iron Legion.
"Minimal, and extreme when engaging a threat. Outside of that, the Grizzly seemed to become even more of a teddy bear."
"If that was bonded to one of us, it would be a huge tool." Rhodie piped up.
"But who would get it?" Widow asked skeptically
"I vote Cap," Clint said.
"No," Cap shook his head heavily "Not a single known hero can bond with that symbiote. Underneath, it would still be the same hero. Slightly different. Same behavioural pattern. It needs to be an unknown Pete isn't familiar with."
Clint threw his hands up and mock laughed.
"Impossible" Natasha stated. "On top of an on-going state of emergency, heroes being picked off one by one, you also want us to find, recruit and train someone new and then ask them to bond with an alien? Not to mention someone who could match Pete? Not. Gonna. Happen."
"I think I might know someone." Wanda spoke up quietly. The room went silent. Every eye turned to her. "It's a long shot, as you say."
(8)
In her bedroom, one long leg tucked under the other, her slender fingers worked over the touch screen.
"I watch a lot of you tube videos. This one guy stuck out as something to me, what I don't know. But maybe someone, I don't know," She half shrugged "One of his students posted a video."
Typing in a single word, a video popped to the top of the screen. Briefly it buffered and a few white words filled the screen.
'My instructor, April 2017.' – 'Hell, by Disturbed'
The thumping intro rose to a crescendo. The image was shaky and comprised of brief shots of many lessons it seemed. A man at a white board instructing with complex math and philosophy, kick flips, Arabians. A veritable spider monkey. As soon as the first verse began, the real impressive stuff began.
Two, three and even four opponents at a time. Ducking, weaving, striking. Wrist locks, reversals, leg locks, sweeps, flying armbars. As fast as he put one down, onto another and the body hadn't even hit the ground. His hands so fast the camera at one point had trouble keeping up. It cut into slow motion and the intricate, yet precise execution left the opponent gagging and retching from an impossibly isolated strike.
Back to instructing, lecturing. The topic ethics, Legal self-defense. Philosophie. When the chorus came back, it was every conceivable weapon available. Knives, Sai, firearms, batons, broom handles and a Dish towel. Anything he took in hand became a weapon. He was fast, quick, but not abnormally. Borderline maybe.
"Cap, you recognize any of that?"
"No" Steve shook his head
"I do" Rhodie spoke up. "Well, some of it at least. He's a spook."
"Uh, for those of us in the back that don't speak G.I. Joe Ant man pipped up.
"He was Intelligence. More than likely a field officer or operator. That's military martial arts. But it is way more aggressive and brutal than what I have seen."
"Friday," Tony addressed the AI "You seeing this?"
"I am, Sir"
"Run analysis. What style is that?"
"None. It is a blending of almost forty different martial arts, almost seamlessly."
Tony looked at Cap. "Friday, how many styles?"
"To count, I am up to fifty-three." The AI paused "Extreme mastery. Spatial IQ estimated to be close to two hundred. Reflexes above average."
Nick whistled. "He had to be something very dark and buried very deep. Because I don't know him."
Every eye turned to him was skeptical. "What? IM serious gddamnit, I don't know this guy."
"Wanda where do we find him?" Jessica Jones asked
"Here, New York. His school is in Hell's Kitchen."
"Mother fucker," Clint tossed his hands up.
Jessica turned and activated her phone. "IM calling Matt now."
"I should take a stroll over."
"No, less is better. Let Matt talk to him."
"New Avenger?" Tony eyed cap, arms tight across his chest. A tight smile on his face.
"Let's hope so."
(9)
Hell's Kitchen wasn't known to be easy, but it's where he called home. For now, as much as he could call anywhere home. No memories of a home whatsoever. Thus, no home and no place to call home.
Gino's bar was dim and dank. A place no one really wanted to be caught at, however he would call this 'home' none the less. Sitting in a corner Boothe, hidden in the recess of a long dark shadow, he nursed a double scotch. Some nights he needed the splash of the amber burn to try and remember, surrounded by those drinking to numb out and forget.
Smoke hung in cloying, thick clouds around the entire area. Two pool tables set off from the door to the left. One occupied. Eyeing the shot, the man had lined up, he knew he'd miss. With a loud crack, the cue ball went sailing off the table and with a loud clack hit the floor rolling toward the back wall and the dart boards.
"Dirty, fuck." The man called after the ball.
Tossing his head back, the stranger finished his Scotch. Straight up, sissies and five-year old's needed ice. The burn started in his throat and slowly sank all the way down. It warmed him and he waited for the effects to kick in. Eye's darting, he counted twelve stools, three occupied and the bartender. A girl of maybe seventeen with more metal in her face than a grenade victim.
Two at the pool table. Six all together, divisible by three or two. Count out the girl, left five. Two were old, the others unknowns. Small timers. Not even one of them a threat to him. Exhaling a heavy sigh, he slid from the booth. Reaching into his pocket he left a ten under his glass. Kid needed all the money she could get if she worked here.
From the other pocket, he retrieved a Dutch cigar from his pocket and stepped out the back door. The smell of wet asphalt greeted him, striking a math, it flared dramatically to life and he stoked the tobacco. Flicking the wood out he let it drop to the floor. Taking a long inhale, he waited. Rolling his shoulders, he mumbled through the smoke: "Better to show yourself now, rather than piss me off more."
For a moment nothing happened, though the man didn't doubt his gut. Years of combat in places better left buried had made him very fined tuned to his environment. With undue theatricality a heavy thump sounded. Unperturbed the former soldier turned.
"That shit might work on civilians, or two-bit crooks. Not on me, don't you tights have better shit to do than follow civilians around?"
Daredevil stood, looking toward the man. "Connor Laughing cloud?"
"So, you know my name, and where Id be. Unless you're a stripper gram from a horrible dominatrix shop, which you're early on my Birthday. I'd fuck off." Taking an inhale, he blew it out and continued "I don't much like being followed. Understand me?"
Both men stood there. Silent for several moments.
"IM not here to hurt you," Matt Murdoch started
A laugh split the night. "No offense boy wonder, I doubt you could. You got rules. I am the rule broken."
Tension mounted.
"Listen, I'm only here to contact you. A few people are on the way and need to talk to you."
"What kind of people?" The growl was evident in his voice. A warning and a threat. The rumble wasn't anything human. But all his senses screamed this was an ordinary man.
"I'm not authorized to divulge anything, but the topic is of utmost importance and secrecy." Daredevil replied, hoping to play on the man's patriotic impulses.
"That so, Douche Devil?" Slowly the man shrugged out of his riding leather and dropped it to the pavement. "Don't much like surprises and sudden changes either."
"It isn't anything bad, per se." Lawyerese escaped him, as SHIELD had designated this a need to know priority access. This guy wasn't read in. Or cleared for it.
"IM walking out this alley without you so close on my ass, that if I suddenly stop, they won't be able to tell where I stop and you start, got it?" The man slowly cracked his neck and knuckles
"I can't let you do that" Daredevil said, standing his ground. Pulling a baton "I don't recommend it."
"Oh. I was kind of hoping you said that."
Faster than he could have expected or anticipated, the man ducked right, twisted his head and screamed as loud as he could toward the side wall. The reverberations of the sound waves, scattered Matts ability to locate a viable target, in his confusion, he felt the hot end of a cigar pushed into his exposed cheek and he went to recoil, but it was too late.
Ducking under a flailed left, Connor delivered a ridge knuckle strike to the man's liver. The pain was immediate and sever. He couldn't even draw in air. Reversing direction, his assailant gripped his left wrist, brought it up and simultaneously twisted it, placing Matts elbow behind his neck. Giving a sharp, downward yank, he twisted Daredevils body and sent it flying over a right sweep. Hyper extending the hero's shoulder, his body hit the pavement with a crunch and major exhalation of air. Still controlling the arm, Connor missed not a single beat, delivering a side stamp kick to Matt's face. The Kuba's on his boot finding purchase and tearing flesh. Daredevil went limp.
"I don't like being followed."
Dropping the arm, Connor casually dipped to pick up his jacket and calming walked out of the alley.
(10)
Neon laser light strobed and pulsed to the beat of the house music. A kaleidoscope of colours dancing across the back wall producing a multitude of images. From a blooming flower that morphed into a dragon taking flight. Massive speakers pumped out throbbing bass lines that caused one to take pause as the waves passed through the body. Even the golden, bubbling liquid in the flutes rippled with every drop of the bass.
The bar was in the shape of an S which ended at one end with a red velvet crescent bench. In the middle was a faux fire pit, orange plastic strips waving and dancing from air pushed up from fans below the stone. A group of people, a mix of men and women sat in this VIP area, enjoying the flowing liquor and Hor D'orves. Overlooking the dance floor, a mass of bodies was pressed together, grinding, feeling, touching in a primal state of animalistic ritual.
The dance floor itself was a sunken pit, with precise plexi glass squares that revealed it to be the top of a massive one thousand-gallon, salt water aquarium with an assortment of life that popped with vibrant colour and made even more spectacular by the rotating neon strobes beneath the tank/dance floor.
Breaking from the crowd, the tiny frame of a young woman stepped up toward the bar. Running both hands over her spikey hair, she pushed aside the sweat. Her dress clung to her every curve and her heels gave ger an additional five inches in height. Almond eyes and narrow features hinted at her Asiatic background.
Coming to the bar, wasn't a problem. Trying to get the bar tenders attention, was an altogether other matter.
"Same as before?" The man asked, as she pressed her cleavage together and left it on display. Sometimes the best tips didn't come in money, she thought.
"Of course, why fix what isn't broken, right?" She yelled over the music.
As the bartender broke away to mix her cocktail, she felt someone slide up to the bar beside her. Glancing over, she did a double take at the man standing there. For her he was a total hottie, at least six foot and a trim one eighty. Hair messy but styled, relaxed and expensive business wear.
Neither was the man oblivious to her appreciative glances.
"Hi," he flashed a million-dollar smile. "I'm Ben."
Suddenly she flushed and put her hand out, taking his. It was firm and powerful. Not overbearing or creepy. Her mind suddenly raced.
"Uh, Hi.. IM sorry."
"Strange name for such a pretty lady," Ben was excellent at flirting.
She blushed under his gaze.
"My name is Jubilee."
(11)
Violently he threw the coat from him, sailing across the room it rolled to a crumbled hear in the ratty kitchen. Eye's wide open, heart pounding Connor's eye's darted side to side. Every shadow was suspect, his senses were sharp. No unusual sounds and the colours in his head were calm, the same twisting of blue and white. Nothing spiked.
'Chase the colours, they will guide you. Follow them' He heard Grant's voice say over and over in his head. A distant memory among shadows, concealed within the fog of war.
Generally, the night gave up all it's secrets to him, every shadow, every nook and hidden place offered no mystery because all it was, was angle's, play of light and absence of light and it was within those shadows, the secrets they held, were often his own.
Things left unfinished, acts which could never be undone or washed clean. They knew. But, not now. Not after a nightmare.
Connor didn't have to look at the alarm clock on the floor to know it was around oh three hundred. Same time almost every time. Without chemical inducement, sleep never came to him. His mind was always working, it was a constantly shifting Rubik's cube. War, math, science and complex theory and thought.
The cold sweat began to dry, Connor tossed the cover's and rolled onto the floor. A mattress and nothing more rested on the polished wood, it wasn't that he couldn't afford it. Year's spent doing the unthinkable, the near impossible, had taught him. Conditioned him to sleep below the window line always. Safety and Security first.
A snuffle and heavy sigh drew his attention. Reaching out, he scratched his faithful companion behind his ears.
"IM ok boy," Zev was a beautiful Blue Merle, one eye brown the other half brown half blue. A mini Aussie with the sweetest temperament, who loved to give hugs and simply had to give him kisses on both cheeks first thing before the morning walks. Connor was sure he was a Mini Italian Shepherd instead.
Stretching, the pooch dragged his back legs in a deep stretch and flopped to his side.
"I know, I'm up, you don't have to be. Traitor." Flicking on the light next to the bed. The small LED lamp illuminated the room in a soft red glow. Outside the window, below the fire escape, the city that never sleeps kept moving. Drugs, prostitution, murder. IN Hell's Kitchen, it was business as usual. Dread filled him, after last night's encounter, he knew it was time to run again. To where, though?
Unable to sleep, he pulled on his head lamp and flicked the tri-lens to red light and turned it on. He gave Zev a good pet along his flank and behind the pup's ears. "You are a clown, you know that Zevi Kelevra?"
Standing up he padded over to the wall, lined top to bottom with architects' paper, he took an emerald green marker and set to work.
(12)
"Stop being a baby," Natasha said with a mischievous smile. She was in the process of tending to a laceration on Matt's face. With expert precision and steady fingers, she sewed the wound shut. Matt Murdoch's scowl was answer enough. His arm rested in a sling, it would take several weeks for his elbow and shoulder to heal. If ever it would correctly.
"You didn't just have your ass kicked by some civilian on the street." He protested weakly
"And stop talking," Widow scolded "You have coffee breath."
"I doubt he's anything but normal." Cap countered, hip leaning against the med bays crash cart. "Shit, we needed him."
"Anyone else going to comment on the fact Cap just used a swear? No?" Tony looked around at his comrades. Turning back to the percolating coffee pot, he lined up a slew of deep mugs.
Ignoring Tony's comment, Rhodie pressed on. "He can't be, how long did you say the fight lasted?"
Daredevil held up five fingers as Natasha attended the cigar burn on his cheek.
"Five seconds? Start to finish?" Rhodie whistled. "You mean to tell me, he did all this damage in five flat?"
"And in those five seconds, he almost breaks your arm, dislocates your shoulder or pulls it out of the socket. Burns you with a cigar and nullifies your powers?"
Matt scowled harder if that was possible. "Yes."
Rhodie looked at Cap and Steve looked back at him.
"We need to find this guy, have a sit down. This is imperative."
"You know I agree Sam, but look at Matt." He sighed running a hand through his blonde hair.
"That kind of performance might as well been an audition, that is far outside of normal off the street." Clint commented through the tooth pick in his mouth.
"Glad I could provide the interview" Matt growled "I can tell you he doesn't like being followed, he made that a very clear fucking statement all over my face."
"It's ok, you'll get him next time. Here ya go Sport." Tony handed Matt a mug of black coffee.
"You sent me after a target without any warning what he was capable of," Daredevil yelled. "A bullshit martial arts or self-defense instructor? Versus one of us? Any of us?"
"Because we didn't even know." Sam countered
"It isn't enough we have a fucking homicidal Symbiote with no known weaknesses on the loose, who, oh by the fucking way, is also Spiderman. Who also happens to be ridiculously intelligent and strong? Is now enhanced beyond that. And is killing us left and right.
"And now we are getting our assess handed to us by some Veteran?!" The pressure was mounting on everyone at this point. The tension in the room was so thick it could be cut with a knife. Every single person in this room had lost someone in the last two weeks. A friend. A partner, former lover. All had lost someone they knew.
"IM a Vet." Sam replied dryly
"I'm still serving." Rhodie added
"And so am I" Cap spoke softly. "We don't know anything really. SHIELD doesn't even have a solid file. This guy is fluid. Liquid smoke. One day he just shows up."
"Virgin Birth too?" Matt asked sarcastically. "Just shows up teaching self-defense in my back yard, out of nowhere? No, everyone has a past."
"Some do, some "Cap hesitated "Get erased."
The infirmary fell silent. No one looked at one another. Each hero lost within their own thoughts. Only the soft ticking of the wall clock's second hand made any noise for a few minutes. Then Tony Stark fixed his gaze on Widow. The stunning red head was putting away the medical response kit and sanitizing the supplies.
"You've been awfully quiet, Miss Romanov. Care to share what you aren't saying with the rest of the class?"
Natasha spun on a heel, leaning back. "You're all to heavy handed. Coming at this situation like he is Recluse, or just someone who would be one hundred percent on board to become an alien host and Avenger. You are more than likely dealing with a very damaged and used soldier."
She tossed her hair back and continued. "You are only focused on the fact he handed you all, us, our asses on a collective silver platter. So, you react, how we react. As Avengers. When honestly, there is two points which stick out glaringly to me."
"Which are what exactly?" Steve asked anyway
"A... He knew how to negate your enhanced ability to a degree, how?" She paused to let that sink in. It was the elephant in the room everyone had missed. "And, B, he only became hostile after you said 'people' were coming to talk to him. You didn't say Captain America. Most Vets would stay planted firmly if they heard Captain America was coming to talk to them personally. No, you said people and he went all WWE on you."
"He's hiding." Cap whispered "Sonuvabitch, He's hiding."
"I blame the social media and TV; our little man is getting such the potty mouth." Tony chided Cap.
"What though or who is he hiding from?" Rhodie asked to no one in particular
"I don't know yet, but I have an idea of where to start." Natasha
"And where is that?" Clint asked
"I'll go alone, give me a day or two."
"To dangerous." Cap protested
"If Recluse is hunting us and is as powerful as we all believe him to be, I'm not even safe here, Steve." Natasha let that sink in for all of them "IM safer on the move, moving about and place to place."
"She aint wrong," Clint seconded. "Better to go to ground, unfortunately at this point we don't have that luxury." He smiled warily at her.
"You see what he did to Matt," Cap argued
"Yeah, you see what he did to me, right?" Matt seconded
"I think the Jets would be interested to see it too" Tony pointed to Matts bruised face "I mean if he isn't interested in Avenging. Maybe Kicker?"
"Funny, Stark." Matt replied
"He won't hurt me," Natasha said confident in her assessment "Maybe scare me a bit, but not hurt me."
"How are you so sure?" Sam questioned her.
"It's elementary, my dear Falcon." Widow smiled "He operates a Self-Defense school, primarily a battered and abused women's school to teach Rape prevention. He won't hit a woman without a good reason to do so."
"You do know you are talking about yourself, right? As threats go, you're up there Romanov," Tony made a strong point.
"Maybe," She smiled "But I'm still a woman."
(13) One Day Later
Natasha Romanov was to spy craft, what Tiger Woods was to golf (Used to be, anyway) She was the best in the game, and she knew it. It's what kept her humble, because when you are the best and reputations preceded you, there is always someone looking to take you down a peg or two. Others wanted to fit you for a six-foot-deep bed or a vacation to a desert grave.
Kneeling in front of the door, she fed a fiber optic camera under the frame. The image on her smart phone showed nothing, waiting for more than three minutes, there was no movement. Her gut told her it felt empty. Rolling the camera back up she fit it into the pocket of her Tan colored leather and stood. Dusting off the knee of her black Yoga pants.
Removing a lock aid gun from the pocket of the supple butter nut leather, she attached the correct head for the three-pin locking mechanism and fed it into the lock itself. Several pumps of the handle and she felt the resistance, turning the tool to the right, she heard a satisfying thunk as the bolt retracted.
Her eyes scanned the hall once more and she released the gun from the latch and spun into the apartment, simultaneously closing the door. All those years in Ballet at the sparrow school had paid off.
Securing the door once more, she took in the surroundings. The floor was highly polished. Reflective and her mind wondered, it was just another reflective surface. The reasoning escaped her now. The smell was pleasant, Jasmine and Frankincense, very middle eastern. One foot in front of the other, she slid forward, careful to distribute her weight evenly. The soles of her knee-high leather boots were specially tailored soft soles., she needed the flexibility in free running and for subtle stalking and movements.
Beyond the corner of the hallway entrance, to her right was a mattress on the floor. A single lamp and a prayer book and Kippah.
"He's Jewish," She sub vocalized into the radio set up.
"Heard," Steve replied in her ear.
It was tidy and neat, even the bed was made with a deep red comforter. Pillows neatly arranged. Next to the bed, a lonely digital clock ticked by in the spartan apartment. Looking to her left, she paused. Blown away at the ceiling to floor writing. Stepping back, she began taking pictures, firing them off to Tony and Bruce. The Galaxy Tens camera was pristine and precise in capturing the detail she wanted to convey. Making her way into the kitchen, she noticed a small green dog's dish. Water only. Opening cupboards and drawers, he used Blue Buffalo food for his puppy it seemed. There was only one cup, one mug and one set of silverware and plate.
It wasn't just spartan, it was sanitized. He was ready to bolt at the drop of a dime.
"He may have already rabbited." Natasha murmured moving back into the living room.
"What?" She heard Steve breathe out.
"The place is sanitized. I don't even think an operator would live this minimally. It was set up to be dropped quickly."
Gazing at the Holographic screens. Tony and Bruce moved them left to right. Tony bringing up multiple writings and complex theoretical math.
"This is amazing," Bruce said, eyes wide at Natasha's pictures. "I've never seen this."
"Theoretical Cosmological Physics" Tony replied, "You won't, mainly because, these are unique."
"Did he do it?" Banner asked. Mystified at the level of thought required for such writings.
"Appears so," Tony flipped and rearranged the Holo glyphs of his works. "How many people truly understand the General Theory of Relativity?
"Let alone, GUT, String theory, M theory or even have a working grasp of Quantum Physics?"
Tony pointed at the screen shot from the window. "This guy does."
"My Gd, Tony. The Philosophie is right there to explain it and the math."
"Yeah, but what he is working on". Tony quickly rearraigned the formula, images flashed by. Computations and geometric shapes. Clapping his hands "Friday?"
The AI began to crunch the numbers and with in seconds a bright, pure white light flashed and settled. The Geo metric, amorphous sphere undulating and twisted and turned calmly. Tony collapsed into his chair.
"He may have just solved the biggest question of them all," Tony laughed out loud.
"A theory of everything?" Bruce asked turning away from the texts on his screen
"Bigger." Tony smiled "Say Hello to Gd."
Bruce immediately fired off a text to Natasha.
Connor walked through his front door at exactly fourteen hundred hours and twenty-two minutes. She had checked her watch. Zev bounded into the door beside him. Stopped and nuzzled his left leg. Reaching down to pet him, Connor took his lead off, gave him a good slap to his flank and sent him off.
"Zevi, good boy." He called out sweetly.
Standing up, he stretched and let out a yawn. Rolling his neck, you would have never suspected the movement. His right hand lashed out, swinging open the closet hall way bedside him. Reached in left handed, finding purchase, he spun his unknown guest like a doll and slammed her up against the opposite wall. A fan of long red hair glittered in the sun light and fell around her shoulders. A heavy thump filled the hall as Connor slammed into her. His left forearm across her neck.
"Good morning, Widow." He growled
Natasha smiled slyly, her green eyes sparkled. "You know who I am?"
"I watch the news." He replied. Her left hand pressed against his chest, gauging, assessing. He was a solid mass.
"Tactical error?" She tried for levity.
"I'd say so, don't you think?" His eyes were the brightest blue she had ever seen but they were flecked with deep, burning bronze that made it seem he was lit by some internal fire. "Why are they after me? Why now?"
"Who?" She asked coyly. Quickly he jerked her off the wall and slammed her back against it. Careful to not let her strike her head off the sheet rock she noticed. Now confident in her assessment of the man.
"Don't lie to me!" He roared. Fear was driving him. Of what she couldn't tell. But she had a good inkling. Without warning a blade bit into her neck. Enough to sting but not draw blood.
Natasha responded by pushing the barrel of her pistol into Connors ribs at a forty-five-degree angle. She knew, he knew, that the angle would shred his lungs, heart and aorta. Point Blank. No chance of saving his life. She matched his glare with a sweet smile.
"Silly boys" She whispered. Her voice husky and seductive "Always bringing a knife to a gun fight."
"Is that what this is, Miss Romanov? Is this a fight?" He asked with weighted, heavy words.
Suddenly she knew the right thing to do. Boldly she tossed the side arm away. It clattered to the floor loudly, sliding to the other side of the room. "No, it isn't"
Using his left hand now, he ran his hands over her legs and around her back.
"You know generally I require dinner, dancing and maybe a decent night of espionage before you get to first." She teased
"Sorry, I have a weird way of flirting. Don't really understand the rules all to well." He scowled "IM che-"
"I know what you're looking for. I'm unarmed outside the walther." She assured him
Stepping away he looked over to the pistol. "PPK? Really, so cliché."
Natasha rolled her eyes. "It's small, automatic and concealable."
"There's plenty of good twenty-two bulldogs out there for wet work." He countered referring to the sub sonic, suppressed covert pocket revolvers. Now she knew she was dealing with a fellow Assassin.
"Need the extra rounds."
"Three more than the six?" He shook his head "Inefficient. Leaves casings. How you going to police your brass in an op?"
"Sig guy?" She asked, "Or H, K?"
"Walther for carry. In forty. But I prefer blades."
Natasha nodded
"Why are you here?" He finally asked, shop talk out of the way "I want left alone."
"We need your help, Connor."
"I'm not going back to the office, ever. I paid my pound of flesh." He affirmed
"Not the military, or even America." She responded. "This time it's the Avengers. We need your help and so does the worlds, whether they know it or not."
His eyes flicked to hers and they seemed to ignite into a fiery blue bronze.