Disclaimer: I do not own Iron Man 2, Thor, the Black Widow Strikes comics, or the Avengers, along with the characters, the quotes, and everything else associated with Marvel.
A/N: Heyy! Another early chapter, easier to write since I can sort of ride on the plot now instead of making up my own. Again, I don't guarantee 1 week early updates for the rest of the story, but if it's heading in that direction then even better. And sorry about the confusion my last author's note caused. I'm not dumping/ending the story, don't worry.
I couldn't resist a nod to The Winter Soldier so we have a guest this chapter ;)
Apologizing for any spelling/grammar mistakes beforehand.
Review/Fave/Follow if you want :)
Song Inspiration
"Anastasia" - A Silent Film.
Chapter 27
Launching her onslaught on Luchkov was the easy part. Now that its heat had died down Natasha had Coulson and his news to deal with.
She had meant to go no farther than free herself from the chair and knock everyone unconscious, but her killing senses had skyrocketed as soon as the first muted crack of bone against bone perforated the air. Two sets of fractured spines and numerous other internal injuries later she was left with Luchkov, and looking at him had sounded an alarm in her head. She wasn't out here to kill. Killing was the last thing needed for this mission. She had reserved to tether a chain hanging from the roof to Luchkov's ankle and pushed him into the same hole he had threatened her with.
He dangled there now, cursing and calling her an American whore, his voice booming through two floors of the warehouse at once. Natasha took one last look at him and went to look for the phone that had been flung aside due to the fight, then her shoes.
"Where's Barton now?" She kept her voice leveled.
"We don't know."
"But he's alive?"
"We think so. I'll brief you on everything when you get back." Coulson paused. "But first, we need you to talk to the big guy."
If Clint's alive, then he'd be ok. A part of her unclenched, and she smiled with half-eased relief. "Coulson, you know that Stark trusts me about as far as he can throw me." What, did Stark actually decide to get Jericho back by himself while she was out?
"Oh, I've got Stark. You get the big guy."
Her sprouting alleviation dried up at that.
What was going on?
Why, though she hoped her assumptions proved false, was the Hulk mixing with S.H.I.E.L.D?
Coulson hung up before she could confirm anything, though by his stiff, no-talk-back dismissal, she needed no confirmation.
"My God..." She muttered.
A fighter jet hovered above the warehouse, its underside a darker mass than even the night sky, and began to descend when Natasha walked out. She hauled herself onto the rope ladder they dropped. A unit of around two dozen heavily armed, black-clad operatives cramped the space inside the aircraft, all eyes focused on her. No Coulson. No Fury.
"I reckon I got somewhere to be, boys?" She spread her arms and waited.
One of the operatives squeezed pass his comrades and gave her a laptop. "Brief, agent." He nodded and waved the men to a corner of the jet. "Give her some room, we can't close the goddamn ramp if she can't step up."
Natasha nodded her thanks and sat down in the closest seat behind the pilot. The head agent—she assumed—followed her, removed his helmet, and held out his hand. "Agent Brock Rumlow, Algeria's Bloodhound division, S.T.R.I.K.E subdivision. My pleasure."
She barely squeezed his hand before returning them to turn on the laptop. Despite a short brief, the assignment's consequences weighed tons. Get Bruce Banner in Calcutta, India, then get out. If he asked for reasons then just tell him S.H.I.E.L.D needed him to find the Tesseract. The Tesseract?
What if she asked for reasons? Why was she out here pulling a man on the global threat list into S.H.I.E.L.D's chaos, and even worse, to the Tesseract? What had happened in P.E.G.A.S.U.S? To Clint? If she asked questions what portion of them of them would S.H.I.E.L.D leave unanswered?
The Tesseract... The underground facility...
Taking the Tesseract out destroyed the enemy as well as the facility itself. A last resort; a desperate measure.
Clint's compromised. No clues on his location but Coulson thought he was alive. Was he trapped in the collapsed tunnels or had just lost contact above ground?
"Tell me in detail P.E.G.A.S.U.S's situation, agent Rumlow."
"I've got nothing more than that the project's gone in the scraps pile now. About 90% of the research gone. Hundreds of men still buried."
"Who took the Tesseract?"
"All that's in your brief, agent Romanoff, is about as far as my scope goes." Rumlow shrugged. "Maybe my info is fresher, since that brief was written two hours ago and I'm getting live updates, but we haven't had any solid reports yet."
With four hours of flight time ahead of her, Natasha tried her comm with Coulson. He had disconnected the line. She called him through her phone instead, and even then it took several tries for him to answer.
"Romanoff? You on the jet?"
"Yes. Coulson, where are you now?"
"Car. Headed for Stark Tower. Why do you ask?"
"Stark broke out for Jericho?"
"No, this isn't about that anymore." Coulson hesitated. "This is for the Avengers Initiative."
What? "Coulson, don't hide from me. What's happening?"
"Something came through the portal. Well, someone. Thor's brother; the guy's crazy. Killed a bunch of men and talked crap about how he came to rule the world. Our world, pardon me. He wanted the Tesseract, but Fury pulled it out. You know the rest, with the energy imbalance and caving in." He began to sound impatient.
The whole thing blew through her ears like an insubstantial breeze. "And where does Barton stand midst all of this?"
A car honk came through the call. "I told you I'll brief you when you get back!"
"Is it that hard to tell me? Really?"
"Look, I don't have time for this, Romanoff. We'll negotiate. You get Banner on our plane and call me back. I'll talk to you while you fly to the Helicarrier."
"Fine."
"Don't call me for the next hour. I need to concentrate on Stark."
Natasha automatically swiped to the Tetris app on her phone after Coulson hung up.
Rumlow peeked behind her shoulder at her game, but she didn't care. Time sped by that way for the rest of the flight.
When he cleared his throat and moved away, she knew it that they had arrived. Twenty-six men stood at her orders, him included. She led them out of the jet into the still-dark, early morning rural Calcutta, and before she could blink they had reformed their lines with practiced fluidity. These weren't regular combatants; S.T.R.I.K.E had a reputation for combat ops.
"You all are my last resorts, alright?" Natasha began. "I'll go into town alone and lure him here to the outskirts. Find a place to lay low here-that house looks good." She pointed to a large shack that looked like a knot of wood, cloth, and bricks. "If there are people inside, relocate them. If not, surround the area."
Rumlow barked an order to his operatives, and the crew scattered for the house. He gave Natasha a metal trinket the size of a matchbox with a blue button. "Press this when you want us at the ready."
As she made her way into the busier parts of the town she took out her phone and turned on the tracking device to Banner. Half a mile away, it told her. She couldn't bait him with any hip sways and deep necklines. No, she had to break tradition...
Strolling around Calcutta in its blended smells of spices, urine, street food, and car exhaust, she found Banner holding a backpack, about to enter a building. Natasha stayed put behind a vegetable cart. A woman rushed out of the building and clasped Banner's hand in both of hers. She spoke in frenzied Hindi to him, all the while smiling and dabbing at her eyes. Banner smiled and gestured for her to lead the way. It became clear what he went there for.
If Natasha wanted to lead him away, she had to play compassion.
She wandered off. Compassion. Compassion was the last thing she could stir in him. She couldn't play a lost tourist because they avoided these parts. She had no diseases waiting for a cure. She didn't speak Hindi. Something told her that if she came up to him with the English language there would be no way he'd follow her.
A small brown blur darted in the corner of her vision. Natasha turned to find a girl, around eight years old or so, flitting around an open-aired fabric fabric a few yards away. The girl disappeared behind the unattended store, and with a flash, the scarlet cloth at the top of the stand slid off its hanger. When the girl emerged again she had the stolen fabric bundled neatly under her armpit, already folded. Natasha trailed her.
Three alleys later the girl stopped by a fruit market. As she zoomed along the various crates of apples and starfruits and bananas her bundled cloth grew lumpy, heavy, so that she had to transfer the package to hold with both arms. Another alley, and a jewelry stand. The girl asked the store owner for something that he had to turn around and search his inventory for, and while he rummaged she slipped a necklace into her dress. More running. She headed to the edge of town. Natasha increased her speed, made a detour and cornered the girl where she had predicted her to run to.
"You're a clever little thief," Natasha said, hoping for the girl to have a few English words in her head.
The girl stared at her, her wavy black hair sticking to her face, and attempted to run off, but Natasha grabbed her arm. "I won't hurt you." She softened her voice.
The little arm in her grasp shook, and a sniffle reached her ears. Natasha looked at the odd little girl and decided on a wild gamble. "Ok, ok. I'll let you go."
Her grip gave just the slightest bit, and the girl was off and running, bounding like a young hare over fences and discarded cardboard boxes littering the streets.
"I have money. Do you want money?" Natasha shouted.
No sign of the girl coming back, but she followed in her direction anyway. Half a block down she hid behind a supply truck, staring at Natasha. Natasha took out her wallet and flashed several hundred-dollar bills.
The girl walked into her sight, her eyes glued on the money. Natasha made a turn into the nearest dark, desolate alley. The girl tailed her and stopped a few feet away. The little fraud, her face was dry and her eyes shining for her wallet.
Natasha crouched down to face her and fanned out the bills. "I'll give you this money if you can go steal me a person. Can you understand me?"
The girl nodded.
"Will you help me?"
She nodded again and held out a palm.
Natasha chuckled and gave her the money. To her surprise the girl shoved her parcel of robbed items into her now empty hands, then began unwrapping it. She pulled out an apple and held it between her teeth. The rest she put in a plastic bag and set it down by her feet.
She pointed to the red cloth and made a motion with her arms like she was swinging a jacket around her shoulders.
"Um... ok..." Natasha draped the red cloth over her back.
The girl nodded her approval and gave her a thumbs-up.
Natasha laughed and reached out to touch the dark curls. "Ok, let's go see how well you can steal a man, little girl." She grabbed the girl's hand and walked her back to the shack Rumlow and his men hid near.
"Lead him into that house, I'll be in there," she instructed.
When they mingled into the center of town again Natasha stopped. "Walk straight for two more streets." She gestured with her hands in case the girl couldn't understand everything. "Make a left into the first building you see and go up the stairs. You should find him." She showed her a picture of Banner. "Don't try to cheat my money. I will find you."
The girl nodded half-heartedly and ran in the direction Natasha had told her to go.
Hopefully she wouldn't take off with the money. Natasha headed back to the shack.
Outside the goats made a racket, and the sound mixed with the chatter of men and a radio. The inside of the place looked slightly sturdier, with splintered wood poles posted around the rooms as support. The scent of food was abundant, and through one of the tattered sheets that served as room dividers a cloud of kitchen smoke rolled. A cloth line bridged the house from one end to the other, the washing dripping water onto the wood plank floor.
After the thought to reinforce the place Natasha went out to find Rumlow for an extra gun and a roll of duct tape, and went back in the house to adhere the gun and holster to the bottom of a table. Then she went into what looked like the bedroom and leaned against the wall to wait.
Eventually the squeak and patter of shoes on wood boards alerted an entrance, then a few seconds later, another squeak, louder. A shape sped through the rooms and climbed out of the window at the back of the house. The second shape did not follow. It leaned against a wood beam.
A light chuckle. "Should've got paid up front, Banner."
Natasha took a deep breath and stepped out from her hiding place.
"You know, for a man who's supposed to be avoiding stress, you've picked a hell of a place to settle."
Banner turned around and set down the bag he carried. "Avoiding stress isn't the secret." His voice was as soft as it had been when he was talking to himself.
"Then what is it, yoga?"
He smiled, wrung his fingers together, and looked around the house. "You've brought me to the edge of the city, smart. I uh... assume the whole place is surrounded?"
Natasha shrugged off the red shawl that she had unconsciously clawed with her fingers and dropped it onto the floor. "Just you and me."
"And your actress buddy?" Banner pointed to the window where the girl had escaped. "Is she a spy too? Do they start that young?"
"I did." She sucked the saliva pooling on her tongue.
"Who are you?"
"Natasha Romanoff."
He looked down for a second, still fidgeting with his hands. "Are you here to kill me, miss Romanoff? Because that's not gonna work out for everyone." His tone had an educational, counseling edge to it, almost like he was reciting a well-rehearsed speech.
"No, no. Of course not. I'm here on behalf of S.H.I.E.L.D." Natasha took a few steps closer.
"S.H.I.E.L.D," Banner murmured to himself. "How'd they find me?"
"We've never lost you, doctor. We've simply kept our distance, even helped keep some other interested parties off your scent."
"Why?"
"Nick Fury seems to trust you. But now we need you to come in."
"What if I say no?"
Natasha smiled. "I'll persuade you."
"And what if the... other guy says no?"
She had just began to get comfortable with talking to him. Now that he brought up the green monster her heartbeat began accelerating. "You've been more than a year without an incident, I don't think you wanna break that streak."
"Well I don't every time get what I want." Banner studied and pushed the wooden cradle before him.
Natasha opened her phone. "Doctor, we're facing a potential global catastrophe"
"Well, those I actively try to avoid."
She slid her phone across the table, and Banner walked to her to examine the picture it displayed. "This is the Tesseract. It has the potential energy to wipe out the planet."
He took out his glasses from his coat pocket, put them on, and picked up her phone. "What does Fury want me to do, swallow it?"
"He wants you to find it. It's been taken. It omits a gamma signature that's too weak for us to trace. There's no one that knows gamma radiation like you do. If there was, that's where I'd be."
He took off his glasses. "So Fury isn't after the monster."
The Hulk? Why? The possibility hadn't entered her mind until now. "Not that he's told me," she replied. Her hand inched toward the gun she had taped to the underside of the table, and with her other hand she pressed the button on the box Rumlow had given her to ready his reinforcements.
"And he tells you everything?"
No. No he didn't. Fury, Coulson, S.H.I.E.L.D. She was the last person they'd tell everything to.
She avoided his rigged question. "Talk to Fury, he needs you on this."
"He needs me in a cage?" He raised his voice.
"No one's gonna put you-"
"STOP LYING TO ME." He shot forward and slammed his hands on the table.
Threat. Eliminate. She jumped off her seat. Her hand shot under the table to slide her gun from its holster and aim it at Banner. A few bullets wouldn't do much damage, if any at all, but as she sat there her own control began to slip. The steady voice inside her tried to coax her weapon down, but even Banner's next surprising words couldn't put an end to her outbreak.
"I'm sorry." He grinned, the corners of his eyes crinkling, and straightened himself up. "That was mean. I just wanted to see what you'd do."
Her finger remained paralyzed around the trigger, her arms stiff in front of her.
Banner pretended to shield himself with his palms. "Why don't we do this the easy way, where you don't use that, and the other guy doesn't make a mess. Ok? Natasha?"
Her blood flowed again and freed her arms from their locked posture. Natasha took a shuddering breath. Banner agreed to come, at last. She hid the gun behind her back and said into her comm to Rumlow, "Stand down. We're good here." Or as good as they could be without exploding on each other.
Banner was still grinning like he had just but witnessed an old, overused children's antic. "Just you and me," he quoted her.
She stared back at him. This man she had misjudged.
"Miss Romanoff? Are you reconsidering? Because my patients are waiting." Banner hoisted his bag over a shoulder and set for the door.
She followed him. "No, Doctor Banner. Welcome to S.H.I.E.L.D."
"A welcome indeed," he muttered when he saw the armed men scattered about the clearing outside.
Two jets waited for them instead of one when the group returned to their landing site. Rumlow directed Banner to one and boarded the other with his men. When Natasha made to enter his jet he blocked her path.
"I think you should take the other one, agent Romanoff. We're packed here already."
On the other, almost-empty jet, Banner sat in one of the side seats, strapping a safety belt on. Natasha nodded a greeting and sat across from him.
She stared at the phone in her hand for a long time. Should she really call Coulson? Did she really want to hear what he had to say? She looked at Banner. He looked back at her. She pressed the call button and brought the phone to her ear.
"Coulson. Tell me."
He sighed. "Did you get Ban-"
"You know I did."
"Barton's with Thor's brother, Loki."
"What, is he tracking him? Did he get caught?"
"He fighting for the wrong side, Romanoff."
Natasha wrung the folds of her skirt with the hand on her lap. "Willingly?"
"If you can call it that. Barton shot Fury, but the director's alright. Loki possesses some form of mind control abilities. I have a team here on the Helicarrier about to sift the globe for him. Loki took Selvig, too, and a few others."
Clint had attacked Fury. That was a top-level offense that nothing she had done in the past few days could out-rival. Coulson set out to bring Clint back with the intention of turning him around, but how many others would regard this search the same way? How many would see him as nothing more than a traitor that demanded elimination at sight?
She didn't want to dwell on it, but what tattered remains of her still clung onto his mind? Would Clint shoot her at his first opportunity, too?
"Romanoff? Are you here?"
"Huh? Yeah, yeah I am."
"We'll get everyone back. Nothing S.H.I.E.L.D can't do."
"Coulson, I can help. I can get-"
"No. You're needed on the Helicarrier."
She took a deep breath. "Tell me about Loki."
"He's Asgardian. Selvig mentioned him once, called him the God of Mischief. He carries a golden scepter and has Thor's super-power family trait." Coulson paused. "When your flight lands, keep Banner on deck. I'm going to round up Rogers now and it'd be good for them to meet each other before they go in."
Banner was still looking at her when Natasha ended the call.
"It's... Things are bad, doctor. The one who took the Tesseract also took some of our people. He's in control of several high level agents and can very well be recruiting more this moment. He's..."
"You're shaking."
She straightened her posture and looked away.
"Natasha?"
She focused on her breathing.
"Natasha?"
"Repeating my name isn't the way to help."
"Then what is it, yoga?"
Banner took a small metronome from his coat pocket and adjusted the beeps to four-second intervals. "This is simple, but it works. Time your breaths to the beat."
She did as he told. It took a while, but she managed to undo the shudder in her movements. As she sat back on her chair Banner murmured:
"And I thought I was unprepared."
Thanks for reading!