Chapter 15: Wings
"Don't worry. You'll be fine. Jarvis runs everything, and your suit is special because it functions by pre-programmed predicted movements based on how your body should respond. It takes some getting used to, but you'll figure it out. It should compensate for your mobility and co-ordination issues." Tony explained, his voice clear but slightly layered with static in Hollie's earpiece. Experimentally, she took another three steps forward out of the open garage. Again, she moved fluidly and precisely in a way she'd never be able to manage in her current physical state. She'd always had a healthy respect and admiration for well made tech, but this... this was incredible.
...High tech prosthesis, indeed, she thought as she recalled watching Tony's hearing when the government tried to get him to turn the Iron Man suit's specs over to the military.
"Well, I'll meet you on top of the Empire State building. Just follow Jarvis' instructions. We'll get you used to the controls, then we'll go save Nat and Clint's asses. It'll be fun, promise!" Tony said and tore into the sky like a rocket. Hollie swallowed nervously. She didn't do heights. Not after the fiasco in Venice. She was that annoying passenger with the barf bag every time she was on a plane. This is going to be a disaster.
"When you are ready, Agent Steel, we will begin the tutorial." Jarvis said, interrupting her panic-ridden thoughts. "All functions of the suit aside from the automatic display output, movement and the wrist repulsors are based on voice commands. While in flight, the repulsors function as flight stabilizers – use them to balance when in motion while flying. You may also access the internet, and any available databases through me at any time."
Hollie swallowed nervously and looked up at the sky. The display changed and showed the current weather (43 degrees Fahrenheit, and partly cloudy with a 30 percent chance of precipitation), and a list of possible flight hazards including ice at higher elevations. She took a deep breath and steeled herself. Natasha and Clint were depending on her - if they were still alive. She couldn't waste any more time.
"All right Jarvis, let's do this." Hollie said, and felt her stomach drop as the thrusters activated.
"Thrust capacity at twenty-seven percent." Jarvis informed her. Hollie screamed and narrowly managed to avoid flying into the side of a building as she struggled to balance herself. She caught sight of a bunch people pointing at chattering among themselves on the street below as she finally figured out how to use the flight stabilizers, and shot straight for the sky.
Don't look down, don't look down... She chanted mentally. The rush of the air was almost deafening as Jarvis increased the thrust capacity to forty percent. High in the sky, Hollie finally turned down the thrusters and nervously looked below her as she hovered above Grand Central station. The cars in the streets were tiny specs of light, and the HUD showed 'Manhattan, New York' with an estimated population and suggested landmarks. Stark Tower showed up in the GPS as a big red dot with the word 'home' underneath it. Of course, she could still see it from where she was. Home. ...It certainly felt like home, well, as much Hollie knew what a proper home was supposed to feel like.
"Jarvis, set a course for the Empire State building." Hollie told the AI, and carefully set off in the direction indicated on the display. Oddly, she felt calm and more at ease than she had in some time. It wasn't like being on a plane, or looking over the edge of a helicarrier deck. She was the one in control, not some nameless pilot. Flying did not, in fact, feel like falling. Granted, Hollie was well aware that a malfunction would probably be deadly, but she doubted Stark's technology would be faulty. After all, he was flying around in one these things too.
"I can do this!" Hollie said to herself with a hint of a smile.
"Glad to hear it! Now get over here, before this asshat security guard calls the national guard or something." Tony replied through their private communication network. Hollie rolled her eyes and didn't reply. She turned a cartwheel in midair, marveling at the suit's ability to compensate for her limitations and move exactly how she wanted it to. Simple things, like walking or typing on a keyboard were things Hollie had always taken for granted. Having to relearn how to do even that with a body that hardly co-operated was something Hollie had never expected. Now it felt strange, but absolutely wonderful, to be able to move effortlessly.
Once she'd figured out how to balance, flying was a piece of cake. ...Not to mention oddly liberating. Feeling confident that she wasn't going to fall out of the sky (and that Jarvis wouldn't let her plow into the side of a building), Hollie turned the thrusters to eighty percent and zipped across the Manhattan skyline until the Empire State building came into view. She slowed down and spotted Stark sitting on one of the edges of the large balcony that tourists usually crowded onto during the daytime. In the middle of the night, however, it was deserted aside from Iron Man, an irate security guard, and a half-eaten box of doughnuts.
"To land, gradually reduce the thruster power until you are a safe distance to the ground." Jarvis instructed. Hollie did as she was told and landed with an awkward stumble and a loud metallic thump. The security guard just shook his head after saying a few choice words, and vanished around the other side of the building.
"Glad you decided to join me. Doughnut?" Tony said, smiling. He had his faceplate pushed back, and a jelly doughnut in one hand with a cup of coffee in the other.
"Strawberry, thanks." Hollie said and sat beside him as she figured out how to open the faceplate of the helmet. Tony handed her a strawberry frosted doughnut and her own cup of coffee, which she was grateful for. It was a chilly February night, and even with the suit's heating system, Hollie was shivering.
"So, what do you think, Buttercup?" Tony inquired, barely restraining his excitement.
"I thought I told you never to call me that again." Hollie whined, but flashed him a smile – a real smile. "I could get used to this."
"Glad to hear it!" Tony quipped, and had this idiotic grin on his face that made Hollie honestly question his sanity for a moment. "Finish your coffee, and we'll try some practical testing for the repulsor shield system I made for you."
Clint and Natasha found themselves in a large, dank underground holding cell. They called it the pit for a reason; that much was obvious. It had a hard packed dirt floor with rocky walls and a simple metal grate across the opening. It was also full of torture equipment.
Within moments of being left in the cell, Natasha slipped out of her handcuffs and picked the lock on Clint's. They were unguarded, but unfortunately knew nothing of their surroundings (other than an estimated distance from the main warehouse), as they'd been blindfolded when they were led into the cell. Irritably, Natasha kicked the edge of a crudely built machine based on a medieval torture device.
"Any ideas?" Clint asked, already picking the lock on the metal grate.
"Not a one." Natasha replied. "Other than get the fuck out of this cell, hopefully steal some uniforms and sneak out of the compound."
"Even if we do, we're in the middle of the desert." Clint said tapping his foot on the ground.
"Hot wire one of their jeeps." Natasha suggested.
"What about the checkpoints?" Clint replied. Natasha just sighed and shook her head. "I don't know. We need back-up."
"You aren't getting any." A man's voice said coolly. Natasha nonchalantly looked over her shoulder – she'd heard the man coming for a while now. Clint had been too busy focusing on picking the lock to notice. He backed up a pace as he came to stand on the other side of the cell door. He was tall and thin with a gaunt face and receding hairline. His grey hair was thin and neatly combed into place. He wore thick glasses and a neatly tailored black suit. He had the look of a desperate, starved animal about him and his grey eyes were dull and lifeless.
"Francis, at your service." The man said with plenty of fake pleasantry.
"Honored." Natasha snapped derisively.
"We can do this two ways – the hard way, or... The harder way. Either way, we're all probably going to die." Natasha raised her eyebrows.
"I'm sorry, what?" Clint asked incredulously.
"You can either rot in here until Stark finishes his current drinking binge and blows this place to hell, or you can take these spare uniforms, fake IDs and the Jeep parked out front. You have one hour of security clearance and a full tank of gas. Don't fuck it up." Francis said and unlocked the prison door. Natasha stared at him for a moment and cleared her throat.
"Why?" She rasped.
"I have my reasons." He replied enigmatically. Clint and Natasha made brief eye contact, before grabbing their weapons and the keys to the Jeep.
"By the way, my name isn't Francis, It's Michael Antonelli. Or it was, anyway. I imagine I will be dead by morning for this betrayal. At least it will be with a clear conscience."
"Antonelli... I know that name from somewhere." Clint mused. Natasha gave Michael a searching glare, and nudged Clint out of the cell and into a small lot where a single Jeep was parked.
"We might as well make this look good." Natasha said, and spun around, punching Michael in the face. He gasped in surprise, and was knocked out cold. He fell into a crumpled heap in the doorway to the holding cell. "Hmm, beating up old men. This is a new low, even if he is Mafia." Natasha complained and hopped into the driver's side of the old Jeep.
"Yeah, let's get the fuck out of here while we can. You know, best not to look a gift horse in the mouth or however that saying goes. But I swear I've heard the name Antonelli before." Clint agreed.
"Assunta Antonelli is Hollie's real name. ...Could he be her father, or a relative maybe?" Natasha mused, as she put the Jeep in gear and began slowly making their way to the first checkpoint.
"I thought the Mafia killed her family off." Clint said questioningly. Natasha just shrugged.
"No idea. She doesn't exactly like to talk about it. You should know that by now." Natasha answered and motioned for Clint to be quiet as they approached the first checkpoint.