15. Trust Exercise

. . .

Eric Koenig's usually genial, wriggly mood was gone. He was all business, the round and affable face looking more like a punched brick. He glanced at Coulson where he sat at his desk, then he looked at each of the core team members where they ringed the room in turn. He finished his quick study, his attempt to organize himself, with a glance at Romanoff leaning against a chair next to Agent May. Everyone looked alert, intent on finding out what was behind the emergency call. "I'm just going to get right to it. We lost four of our international safehouses in three hours last night – One in Norway, one in the Ukraine, one in Bolivia, and the last in Chad. No visible traces of our agents remain at the scenes, controlled demolition at every one. We got a scan out at one of the sites, they got basically a vapor of DNA along some of the rubble that we're testing. Whatever blew in toasted our people straight out of existence, and then toasted the safehouses themselves for a coup de grace."

"Any idea what caused the demo?" May's face was tight, the anger on it clear. The warning she'd sent outside Agger's warehouse hadn't been enough. It was hard for her to not blame herself, even though there was nothing else she could have done.

"High-temperature implosion. One guy we sent out cracked it looked like a bomb literally walked in and blew itself up. The tech guy with him? Decided that wasn't a joke. That's the actual theory we're running with right now. We got some surveillance video of the one in Norway; some streetcams picked up most of what you're gonna see." Koenig waved a hand at the screen that appeared across from Coulson's desk. The scratchy black and white video filled it.

At another gesture, it started. "As you can see, nothing happens. Nothing's there. Now, sixteen seconds in... we've identified that as Agent Mark Eggleston opening the door." A tiny figure stood framed in the doorway. He paused it. "Note the visual distortion in the recording. It's unidentified. Eighteen second mark." The video resumed, and the agent was gone. "Thirty second mark." The building fell into itself, veiled by smoke.

Koenig fiddled with a control. "Skipping to two hours later." A closer view, recorded on a professional camera. The building's bricks seemed melted in places.

"What the crap?" Skye looked aghast.

"Yeah. 'Invisible death ray robots or something.' That is an actual line from a situation brief I got this morning." Koenig looked down at Coulson with an unhappy shrug. "That's a new one."

"The giant stirs." Loki said, the three words hitting the cold air with a portent he possibly didn't intend. He crossed his arms against his chest. "They send their toys out to the world, intended to come play with us."

Koenig spun towards him, agitated. "Could we not call 'em toys? We lost eight agents today. That's one hell of a toy."

Loki inclined his head deeply towards the agent, voice contrite. "My intent was misaimed. I apologize. Latveria itself might consider these things trinkets. Disposable weaponry to avenge what they believe slew their own. But to you – to us - they are quite potent." His face creased. "The wires I thought little of... but your man's theory? I wouldn't have expected such creations there, and I agree it is disturbing. Save for Stark's curiosities, little else that I've seen of your peoples is on that level."

"See any Asgardian influence?" Coulson came out of himself to shoot the question up at the towering figure, his fingers fiddling with a stray pen from his desk.

He shook his head. "No. I realize you think of the Destroyer, but that was a construct with an ancient and specific purpose. They did not often turn to robots to do what warriors ought. Thinking machines, destructive machines... it's not Asgard's way. And while there is much else in the galaxy, this yet feels unfamiliar."

Coulson grimaced. Nothing was ever that easy. "Romanoff?"

She gave the alien a sideways glance before giving a slow, grim shrug. "I got almost ten miles within the border. Once. They had monitoring equipment, some drones. Most of it unobtrusive, but you could always sense you were being watched. I had to keep moving and I still got chased out. I never got that deep. Never saw big ordinance, and what I saw is almost a decade out of date. I don't know what this is."

Fitz looked up at her from his chair where he'd been gnawing on a knuckle in worry. "So, what do we do to stop this? Can't be so simple as calling and saying 'look, please, it's not us.'"

"They don't take phone calls. They don't even have an acknowledged connection to the Internet. I've got twenty bucks that says they're latched in somehow – hell, for all we know, they've got a secret Tumblr blog full of Latverian pet pictures – but they're not taking emails. And they're not going to just believe us that their single public face is pulling a fast one. I can prove it to you, yeah. You got my brief on what I took from Agger's phone, and I'll verify under any oath you throw at me that von Bardas is running this. But I don't know what I can prove to Latveria from here."

Skye grimaced. "Not even, like, a mailbox through the UN? Putting up a website that says 'We're sorry. Call us?' isn't going to work, is what you're saying."

Natasha looked down at May, thinking. "They do have a route through the UN, yeah. They're not an official member, and they never show up but there's still channels they can use to monitor. Standard international courtesies."

"Small problem," said May. "I bet that channel goes straight to von Bardas."

Coulson looked down at his desk as an alert flickered its reminder. The tight, pinched expression on his face drew a glance from Loki as he activated it. "Ah, yeah. Speaking of that... she's in play. The notification came through just before you guys got back into town."

"What?" May leaned forward to search his face. "What's she doing?"

"Filed a public flight plan. She's going straight to Washington D.C. tomorrow."

"Oh, that's great." Natasha pushed away from her friend's chair, clearly frustrated. "She's going to sell us all up the river. I really wanted to go on national TV again talking about our security mistakes, too."

"We don't know for sure that's all she'll do. She could sell out Roxxon. Or really stir the pot. Go big."

"Set all the world against her country and hope to gain control in the chaos that will rise?" Loki's theory drew one of Natasha's narrow, contemplating stares. He gave her a wry smile. "It's not unlike what I might do."

His attempt at self-deprecation went down like a brick. "We'd get along so much better if you talked less while I'm around. Or, you know, not at all." She smiled sweetly back at him.

"I'm not wrong."

Coulson snapped his fingers at the pair to shut them up. "We've got a two-front problem and I need a two-front solution. First, whatever von Bardas is gonna barf up to the folks in D.C. has to get shut down. She's got the field. I want it pulled out from under her. Someone's gotta get to her, corner her, and get her off our backs. Bonus if you can figure out how to throw her back to Latveria with our rep intact. Chew over theories on that, and do it fast." He got up from his desk, clasping his hands behind his back. "Second front, we need to find some new way to approach Latveria. Clear the air with them."

That got both Natasha and Loki looking at him warily. "Yeah, I'm not wild about being in the dark on what's there. But I'm coming at this from a singular angle – I want them to stop killing our people immediately. That means we at least get back to square one with them. If they're gonna be an established threat in the future, then we also need to buy time to assess that threat. Get some frickin' eyes on this."

"Yeah, but how?" Skye flapped her hand. "I can do whatever you need for a message. I can compile everything we got, make a PowerPoint presentation, make the fanciest set of emails with all the cutest emojis but we can't get it to them."

"Not without going in," said Natasha. "And you don't get in. We've tried. More than what's in the files." She looked around the room. "I don't want to get into it too deeply, but I'll just put it out there that my predecessors on the other side of the ocean took a few cracks at that nut. Nobody broke it. I'm telling you, with every skill, every bit of training I have, you don't get in. You're down to stapling notes to paper airplanes."

"Well, crap!" Skye looked over at Simmons, who'd been able to add nothing. The slight shake of her head was in agreement with the basic sentiment. The room filled with murmurs, the low drone of thinking out loud, of trying to puzzle out some solution.

Coulson caught Loki studying him, a strange expression on his face. "What?"

The demigod looked away, realizing he'd picked the direction that held the careful, mistrustful stare of Romanoff. "There is one way I can think of to send this message. One way alone, and that's all it can do. That I could do."

"You think you can be a better infiltrator than anyone in SHIELD?" Natasha's tone was gentle, even curious. The tense, glittering eyes revealed her real tone.

"It's not that. Not at all." He still looked unwilling. "You don't understand and I am drawn to hesitation, for you don't wish to listen, either." Loki looked to Coulson. "The first hurdle: You'd have to trust me in this method. No other choice but to give me that trust, to deliver what you need."

Coulson put up a hand as Natasha inhaled. "Get in the hall."

. . .

Coulson shut the door, his team still muttering theories between them inside the room. "Trust."

"I know."

"Why are you asking me for that when we both know a hell of a lot better than to pull that word out openly without a lot of precautions and binding agreements?" He looked up at the pale demigod when he said nothing. "If – let's roll with this – if I agreed to whatever you have in mind, I gotta be able to explain why I gave that trust when someone asks. I gotta be able to put my own word behind it. We've come a long way over this last year, you and me, and that's pretty goddamn weird. But that's not enough for everybody else. Not yet. Gimme something I can put my word behind."

Loki stared over his head, his face tight. "Ask Skye."

"No, I'm asking you." He waited, but only for a few seconds. "Latveria is going to burn us out of our house over this. They didn't tease or threaten. They went straight for our kidneys. Time is a factor for us, and that makes it a factor for you. You signed up for this. Spit it."

The unwilling look didn't leave, but he talked. "The victim you first sent us to. Stutgart walked away from what he'd been. I tell her – tell Skye - this is a theory, but I believe in it. He threw his envelope away when the other didn't. I'd wager the others had theirs; loyal to the end. Messages consistent enough that Romanoff knows their riddle. But not the teacher. He chose his own life, and that wasn't enough to save him. The old road came up under his feet to find him, to drag him unstoppably down into death." A flickering pause. Coulson thought he saw a whisper of regret pass across Loki's face. "And in South Carolina is a little girl who knows only that her friend is gone forever, and that no one will ever tell her the truth of why that happened."

Loki looked down as Coulson still studied him, the broad brow deeply furrowed. "Look at me with what you know of this recent past between us all here and say you cannot see why I'll avenge that, freely."

. . .

"We're listening to his plan." Coulson shot Romanoff a firm look, cutting off whatever response she had. "Let me put it like this: Anyone come up with something else while we were in the hall?"

Dead silence answered him.

"Right." He turned to regard Loki, coming back into the room behind him. "Details. What's your game?"

"No spies, nor drones. No one person may walk in, nor device. Nothing works." He shrugged, a trace of reluctance still furrowing his brow. "But borders do not seal against beasts. You cannot defy the small things of nature."

"Plainer language." Coulson paused, thinking he'd put the gist together anyway before second-guessing himself. "Wait."

Simmons lifted both her eyebrows up to her hairline, also not quite willing to go where that suggested. "I... know you explained to me why invisibility would be too costly for something like this. Too much energy burned, too many external details to wrangle and layer together for longer than brief moments. So, what, you'll illusion yourself as an animal to get past the border?"

"No." Loki shook his head once, sharp. "Illusions work best as masks, or as little riddles thrown freely around – a stick becomes a snake, a handful of pebbles playing at diamonds, or some distant ghost to chase. There's often a shadow of shape to build around, an echo to ground the illusion. But here there's also the risks of the unknown. It's difficult to pierce an illusion's veil, but not impossible. I can't be certain of that and I don't bet willingly against what I do not know."

"So what are you suggesting?" Coulson blinked. "You're not talking about... No way."

"Shapeshifting. Yes." The tense look returned.

The room went still, faces lighting up in different shades of perplexion. Coulson lifted a single finger, not able to keep his voice from sounding stunned. "Okay. What?"

"A small animal will go unnoticed across any border in any world. Travel where it likes. I can do this thing, yes. Use that unthreatening shape to deliver your message. Skye's compiled notes." A slow, uncomfortable shrug followed his words. "And as I say, only this. What I am offering to do is dangerous. Costly."

Coulson still stared at him. "Well. That wasn't on your resume. What do you mean, dangerous?"

He shoved his hands in his pockets while he talked, the narrow face still taut. "Nature does not welcome a lie and so you must forge it carefully and with sacrifice; when you take the shape of a thing, you are that thing for the duration. Your greater mind and soul is often but a shadow drifting behind, guiding the changeling's thoughts like a vivid dream. The connection can break if you are incautious. Harmed or too deeply endangered and the link between what you are and what you've become will shatter. Even remaining in the shifted dream too long might ensnare you. You will be trapped and ultimately die in that shape, never remembering what you once were. It is not an easy thing to do. I do not offer this lightly. But I could deliver your note. Nothing else."

"How the absolute crap do you pull off this stuff?" Skye stared at him. "Like, do you just go to Asgard Wizard School and make buddies with the one werew-"

Loki cut her off. "Please. I know this sounds strange to you. Don't jest with it. Magic is not simple, though half the game is pretending it is. But every discipline has risks to it you cannot imagine. I taught myself this one long ago, yes, and I am just wise enough to not flaunt it about. I can shift. I can become other so long as that shape seems to be some echo of me, hold some essence of myself. But I will never do it without good and just cause. I mislike its risks too greatly."

"And needs must," said Simmons, her hands clasped in front of her. "Oh, dear."

"Fine. We're going with it." Natasha shot Coulson a hot look. He returned it evenly, knowing how well the next bit was going to go down. "May, you're on the capital. You figure out how to get to von Bardas, that's your half of it. Skye, I want you to rig a USB with everything we've got. Go small. Small enough to fit on a collar or something. Romanoff, you're tasked with getting Loki as close to Latveria's border as you can. You know the way. We need that."

Natasha unfolded her arms, outright staring at him. Then, just as quick as the storm gathered, it broke and faded away. "All right." She nodded, finding a viable plan immediately. "We'll come in from the East side, through Romania. Close to where I got in. The last several attempts to breach the border came from the north, so, that's probably where they'll be more concentrated these days. Anyway, I know a good route. Heavily forested. I can get close." She looked around the room, playing off her anger. "No, I don't like it. I won't lie. But what's the other choice?"

Coulson nodded slowly, noticing May studying her friend carefully. Then he looked at Loki.

Loki did not look fond of this development, either. But he nodded to Coulson with weary, wary eyes.