Chapter Eight

After Steve left for his afternoon appointments and Sharon made inquiries about finding a dog for Bucky, she took the stairs down to the second floor command center.

Their base of operations didn't really compare with any of the SHIELD command centers she'd worked in, being two desks outfitted with phones and computers, a television, conference table and kitchenette, but It had served their purposes when they'd started four months ago. Now, the success of their small team had earned them an upgrade - which the pair of Stark technicians were evaluating.

"How's it going?" she asked a pair of legs that were sticking out from under the desk Sam and Bucky shared but really only Sam ever used.

"Miss Carter, you're just in time," the legs answered with a slight shaking of a sneakered foot in greeting. "We went ahead and updated your current systems since it'll be a couple more weeks before we can install the full upgrade. I hope you're going to like what we've got in mind."

"I'm sure anything will be an improvement over what we've got," she admitted.

The legs inched out from under the desk to reveal Rudy, the red-headed tech she'd greeted that morning. "Then you're gonna love what we've come up with. New computers and a couple of monitors in here to start, PDAs and comms for each of you, a biometric security system with panels in every room and a direct link to the Stark satellite network."

"That sounds like a lot more than I'd expected. I thought we were just getting a couple of new computers and an upgrade to the security system we've already got."

"Not according to Mr. Stark," said Oscar, the other tech who must have been down in the basement if the cobwebs sticking to his mess of curly hair was any indication. "The biometrics are new and he wants your building to have them before anywhere else."

"That's very generous of him," she said, unable to hide her surprise. The original offer for the upgrades had come from Pepper Potts and Sharon wondered when Mr. Stark had decided to step in. "How long will all of this take?"

Rudy and Oscar shared a look, communicating telepathically as far as Sharon could tell. Finally, Oscar said, "We've already upgraded your connections so we can get you hooked to the Stark network today."

"And we can install the panels and sensors tomorrow," supplied Rudy.

"Install the new server Thursday," Oscar added.

Rudy nodded. "Set up the new computers, PDAs and comms Friday."

"And link everything to the network on Saturday," Oscar finished.

"Less than a week," Rudy answered. "As long as you don't mind us intruding on your weekend."

Considering their proposed timetable was a third of the original, Sharon didn't mind giving up a Saturday.

"That sounds great," she said. "You just let us know what we need to do and we'll be ready for you."

Oscar immediately started telling her about back-ups and securing documents before they went on the Stark network as he escorted Sharon downstairs to show her where he wanted to install the new servers. Though she considered herself pretty computer savvy, he did manage to lose her a couple of times and she had to ask him to repeat himself, which he was more than happy to do.

After the techs left, Sharon changed into a pair of jeans, sneakers and long-sleeve Maryland Terrapins shirt and baseball cap for her meeting with a former SHIELD contact to follow up on one of her financial leads from the day before.

Parking near campus, Sharon grabbed a backpack from her trunk and slung it over her shoulder. She took her time, wanting to catch her contact toward the end of his office hours. While he taught accounting now, he'd been a SHIELD financial analyst before he retired to academia. Sharon hoped he could make better sense of the data she'd collected and, with luck, they'd be able to follow the money trail and take down a larger portion of Hydra than the one or two cells they'd managed to disband at a time so far.

When she reached his office, she knocked lightly on the door. "Professor Benedict?"

"Ah, Sherrie," he greeted, addressing Sharon by the less-than-imaginative SHIELD cover name. "You caught me just in time. I was about to close up early and go bowling with some of the other faculty."

"I won't keep you long, Professor," Sharon said, maintaining the cover until she shut the door. "I was hoping you could look into these for me?"

Benedict took the sheet Sharon handed him. "What are these, exactly?"

"A series of transactions from a SHIELD account that was closed after the fall of the Triskelion. There isn't a SHIELD anymore so I have to assume that anyone accessing that money is actually Hydra. The money is draw from a different source, different continent, each time and bounces through at least a dozen banks before the trail turns cold. I thought you might have better luck tracking the origin."

"That I may," he murmured, looking over the list of transactions. "I must admit, I'm surprised to see you asking about this. As you said, there is no more SHIELD. How do I know you aren't Hydra? Or how do you know that I'm not?"

"If you were Hydra, you wouldn't be teaching accounting at a state-funded school. And if I was Hydra, why would I need to track down an account we were using?"

"Fair points," he said after studying her a moment. "I'll see what I can do and contact you at the usual address."

"Thank you," Sharon said and opened the door to leave. "Good luck bowling tonight."

"And good luck fishing, my dear. I think you'll need it more than I do."

Sharon only smiled and made her way out the back of the building and took the long way around to get to her car.

Since it was still early, she indulged in a frozen coffee from a street vendor and had just enjoyed the first sip when her blood chilled to the same temperature as her drink.

There, across the street, wearing a black-billed ball cap and reading the newspaper was Brock Rumlow. He seemed focused on his paper, as casual as could be, and Sharon forced herself to be just as casual as she took another sip of her drink walked to her car.

She didn't risk another glance until she was securely inside the vehicle but she was sure - so sure - it was Rumlow, the same man who'd attacked her six months ago. If it was, that meant he really had been outside of the art supply store yesterday.

What the hell is he playing at? she wondered. She turned to put her seatbelt on, using the movement to risk taking another look - only to see that he was already gone. She looked frantically up and down the street, then realized that if it was him she wasn't doing herself any favors by signally that she'd seen him.

She needed to tell the team but couldn't quite bring herself to call Steve like she knew she should. Sam, Bucky and Steve had been kind of unbearable in those first few months after she was injured, Steve going so far as to actually carry her up and down the stairs for the first week until she was cleared for physical therapy.

Even after she was back to her fighting strength - more than, with Steve's super blood flowing through her veins - the three of them had done a lousy job of pretending not to dog her every step, of making sure one of them was always at the warehouse with her.

Sharon didn't know if she could go back to that level of smothering, not on a few sightings she couldn't even prove to herself. She'd just be more vigilant and, if she saw Rumlow again, she'd tell Steve and face the consequences.