Moments
Disclaimer: some lines are original to the series and not my own
Anywho, Enjoy!
Fiction Can Be Rewritten
2.6
Jack stared at Dottie Underwood's bound, gagged, and unconscious form lying on the Persian rug of the Arena Club's floor, and he sent up a silent thank you for all of those hours sparring with Peggy under Theodore Clifford's tutelage.
He would have never gotten the drop on her otherwise.
His reverie was interrupted by Vernon finishing his Big Boys' conference in the Club's inner-sanctum and looking as if he had just got done sucking on an extra-sour batch of lemons.
"Really a great job of cleaning up the mess you made," Vernon sneered accusingly.
"What's that supposed to mean?" he asked defensively. Hadn't he just reacquired the infamous Dottie Underwood – single-handedly mind you? Didn't that deserve at least some kind of 'Atta-boy' around here?
"This is your girl Carter. This whole fiasco's got her fingerprints all over it," groused the old curmudgeon.
His father's buddy had to be slipping into the early stages of dementia or senility. Not only was Carter not 'his girl', but Carter was no traitor. Hadn't she just gotten done proving that last year?
"I think you got this mixed up," he protested. "That was Underwood that we just – "
"Underwood was sprung with the help of a female psychiatrist. Who else besides Carter would be so reckless as to let that nut case loose on this party? You said yourself that you saw Stark's butler here, acting fishy. Well, we all know that those two are thick as thieves…"
As the man continued his rant, Jack tried to sort it all out. It just didn't make sense. Peggy and Dottie colluding with one another? If she was what was the point? What the hell had she gotten herself into?
He must have said some of this out loud, because Vernon dismissed his concerns with an ominous, "It doesn't matter. You're gonna have to take her out."
Everything in him went ice cold as he was filled with horror. His 'mentor' had just ordered him to kill his partner, the woman he –
"I'm not gonna kill Peggy Carter," he scoffed between clenched jaw muscles.
"Who said kill? That would be wrong... Both morally" Vernon asserted (that part not very convincingly), "and strategically" (that part much more convincing). Killing her makes her a martyr, shines more of a light on her..."
While Masters outlined his plan to ruin Carter's reputation, Jack struggled to find a way to dissuade him from basically blacklisting Carter from the field that was her calling, or at least for him to find a way to not have any part of it.
But all he could come up with was a hesitant, "Well, that presents a whole new set of problems."
Which was really dumb. Now Masters knew to look for some dirt on him.
So he tried again, "Carter's a girl scout, sir."
"If you can't find a way to take her down... Then I have to question whether you're suited for high command in this government."
Ah, there it was – the masterfully played long-game of Carrot-and-Stick.
This whole time he had thought he was making headway into the inner-circles of the 'Council', being introduced to men like Chadwick. When in actuality the wining and dining – perhaps even that cute blond at the bar earlier tonight (who could not hold a candle to a certain brunette) – had all been the carrot of Masters' manipulation of him.
He couldn't not take this assignment, not only for the sake of his and Samuel's case against the Council (and he guessed Peggy's now too), but also for her sake. If he didn't do it, then Vernon would just send someone else, and then there would be no way he could warn Peggy.
With an unhappy scowl (that he hoped Vernon interpreted as him not liking being on the wrong end of the 'stick'), he asserted staunchly, "There is no question, sir. I'll get the job done."
As he was being escorted out, he saw Vega and Blackwell being escorted in and heard them being instructed to take "Underwood to this location". 'This' could only be a written address.
He was disappointed in Vega and Blackwell for being Masters' stooges but not surprised. If he had to pick any one of the SSR agents on his team to be dirty, it would be them.
The bright side was that since they were on his team, he could keep a better eye on them and their activities, and possibly find out from them where Underwood's new home was to be.
Thinking of Underwood made him again wonder what in the hell Peggy was in to and if Sousa was even capable of reeling her back in when she went off the rails.
~A~
Peggy's breezy "Oh, this is unexpected" pulled him from his reverie.
While he had been cooling his heels, waiting for her to grace him with her presence, he had been doing his best to strategize the best approach to take with her. The problem with that was – no one can know with Peggy.
"Sorry for the hour. Hope I didn't wake ya," he apologized insincerely. Perhaps, if she knew that he knew what she had been up to, then she would let him in without him blowing his cover.
"No, I'm an early riser."
But no, it appeared that they were going to play the game.
"That's funny. Sure looks like you're coming off a long night," he lied.
It was a lie, because he knew Peggy's 'long night' looks. Her right eye-lid drooped a little. Her shoulders lost their rigid military ready posture, and they sagged a smidge. She rubbed her neck too. Peggy did none of these things now.
Carter's eyes were dilated, her shoulders were tense, and her hands were protecting her side, as if she was safeguarding her robe from slipping. But if that were the case, she would have been fiddling with the sash.
No, after hours of sparring with the woman, he would recognize this look anywhere. This was Peggy's I-am-in-severe-pain posture. Peggy was injured.
"Oh," she chuckled dismissively, before going on the attack. "Your charm knows no bounds. It's a wonder you're not married yet."
He wanted to shake her. Not for her insult about his lady-killer ways or recent lack thereof, but with how reckless, she was being with her very life.
He didn't shake her of course. (He had no idea if that would do her even further harm). But he did begin his interrogation of her, in the hopes of letting her know that her clandestine activities were on Masters' radar.
"You ever heard of a Dr. Katherine Wexford?"
"I haven't. Who is she?"
"You know her. I think she's someone very close to you."
"I knew a Katherine Hornstock once, but we weren't that close."
At that, he had to bite the inside of his cheek not to laugh at – well – her cheek.
Walking up to her, invading her space, he admonished, "I know what you're doing, Carter". And he did, and all it was going to get her was a ruined career or an early grave.
Not liking his tone, she challenged, "Is there something I can do for you, Agent Thompson?"
"I'm on a flight to London at 4:30. Come with me. You can see your family. Isn't your niece walking by now?"
"She's talking actually, and sorry. I can't do that," she refused shortly, most likely incensed that he tried to use her family against her.
"Don't do this," he pleaded. He hated to beg, but for her he would.
"Do what?"
"You're chasing bogeymen down into a pit of quicksand," he warned. "Please, just get on this flight with me. Leave all this behind. It's okay to be wrong from time to time."
As soon as he said that last bit, he knew that he had lost any of hope of flying away with her to relative safety. But that wasn't the end goal, was it? Although he wanted desperately to do that very thing, he and Sam needed her to continue blazing on ahead. He hoped at least with just more than a tad bit of caution.
When he heard her say that she was willing to bet everything she had on her gut, he had to walk away.
But not without giving her one final warning and one (hopefully) not-so-final wish for success.
"Yes, you will. And when you do... You'll never see it coming… Good luck, Peggy."
