Chapter Eleven

Phil decided that rain did nothing for the lingering cough that had taken root deep in his chest. Nothing whatsoever. He caught Natasha's eye as he gave another hacking splutter. It had to be Montana. Of all the places in the world they always had to go either to the middle of the desert and listen to Juliette complaining about the heat or to the middle of a freezing cold rain sodden forest so they could die of pneumonia. There apparently was no middle ground. The forest was even too thick for the jeeps, leaving them to trek through the mud in jeans and hiking boots.

"Coulson, you've moved off course, veer back west," Tony's voice told him over the comm. Phil was unduly jealous of the Iron Man suit just then. Stark didn't have to walk like the rest of them, keeping up out of sight hidden in the mountains where the trees were too close together to land a plane. "This group's got the worst sense of direction by the way."

"You could spin Mede around blindfolded and she'd still come up pointing north," Phil heard Natasha mutter. Those of them sentenced to walking had been split into three groups, Phil had Natasha and Banner and another two SHIELD agents, the Captain and Juliette were heading two other teams of five, each coming through the woods in different directions. The plan was to reach the blank spot on the radar where not even satellites could show them a seamless picture, and surround it.

It took them another hour of trekking through the cold wet forest before Stark told them to wait for Captain Rogers' to get into position since his team had further to go. Finally, with Phil's cough their biggest security hazard, they had the go ahead.

Tony charged first, raining down pre-emptive shots on the compound.

"Three buildings, no trucks," he told them. More explosions came as Mede's team approached from the north. There were shots fired back at them, already a few fires spread through the trees but in the drizzle nothing became serious. Phil finally caught sight of the walls and his team ran the last leg to the gate, Natasha and Alfonzo breaking it off. Then into the courtyard and they were under fire, Rogers' bursting in from the eastern side at the same time. The Horizon guards on the walls fell quickly from the onslaught.

"I've lost Cowel," Mede called as they reached the cover of the main building. Rogers' set about entering the eastern one and Phil ordered Mede to the smallest. Inside he fired along the corridor, Natasha on his flank as they faced the guards. It was well practiced, their movements along the blank concrete and steel hall precise and quick. He didn't move as gracefully, nor as fast as she did but he knew what he was doing, taking out the guards before they could react.

"Alfonzo's down," Rickby called. They had lost two agents so far.

"My building's clear," came Rogers' voice through the comm. "There's nothing inside at all."

"Same here. All hostiles neutralised." Both Mede and Rogers were done, Phil taking down the last of his building's garrison. His team splintered, searching for anything in the bare rooms. Phil pushed open a door, gun in hand but there was nothing. No room contained more than what any barracks could hold, beds and food and tables, guns and uniforms. No labs, no documents, not even a security camera or computer for all had been taken down, only empty sockets betraying the level of technology that had once been there.

"So what happened?" asked Stark as they reconvened in the yard, the bodies lain out along one wall. Phil glanced at the two fallen agents and sighed, there was little to be said. "Looks like they were left as bait."

"Badly armed bait," added Clint. "It's just the position that gave them an advantage." Phil crouched by one of the Horizon bodies, frowning. There was nothing to tie the man to the organisation, no logo or specific uniform except the standard black clothes all armed guards seemed to wear when not in khaki.

"Here!" Greyhound called from the east gate. "I have a scent. It's weak, a few days at least."

"Can you follow it?" asked Phil, all reservations aside. Here was someone who was useful and he needed any lead he could get on Horizon. Slowly Greyhound walked out of the compound, almost as far as the trees before turning back.

"I think so." Phil pointed at Mede and Banner.

"Go with him, tell us if you reach a road and we'll meet you with the trucks. Romanoff, stay here for the clean-up then join us." Banner followed Greyhound without hesitation, Mede jogging along beside them. It had hardly been a success, with two agents down Phil was looking at a disaster, his only hope was that Greyhound could make Cowel and Alfonzo's deaths worthwhile. Phil coughed quietly as he looked around.

"Sir?" Rickby came up to him, not a white hair displaced from her bun. "We found the transmitter that was blocking all aerial views." He followed her to the crate that could have been mistaken for a bin. Inside was the only thing that looked like it belonged in the twenty first century in the compound.

"Bag it up and send it to a tech lab, we need to see how it operates." He looked at Rogers who was playing Mercury to the dead Horizon guards. The super soldier met his eye, leaving his checks to approach him. "We're following Greyhound's lead."

"Iron Man? Keep a check on Banner and Davies. We'll be right behind." It was awkward, Phil not exactly knowing where his place was. The agents were his to command, but the Avengers- well they were the Captain's and he would defer to his hero without a second thought, but he wasn't sure how to do that whilst still keeping SHIELD protocol intact. A cough caught him suddenly in the cold air. "Agent Coulson?"

"Back to the trucks," he called with a silent groan. At least walking downhill would be easier.

… …

Um, yeah sorry for the hiatus. Hopefully things will be back on track now!