Title: The Set-Up
Author: SLynn
Summary: Three months after Clint Barton's death and what remains of the Avengers is still struggling to make sense of it all as the threat to SHIELD, and to them all, looms larger.
It took several more hours to go over the picture of Agent Coulson and how they'd come across it and even then no one was in agreement about what it could possibly mean except that it clearly meant something.
Fury, Morse, Hill and surprisingly Thor were all of the opinion that it was a lie.
That left Tony, Bruce and Steve to believe it was real.
After the discussion broke down into everyone simply stating and restating their own opinions, Fury called it for the night. He would be bringing Agent Sitwell by in the morning and asked if Tony could put him up for the time being. Seeing as the Tower was huge and largely empty, it wasn't a problem. Fury had both Agents Hill and Morse accompany him out while everyone else retreated to the lounge where Pepper and Jane were still awake and waiting for them.
Thor's somber expression broke when he saw Jane again. He smiled broadly and walked to her side, but it was a short lived happiness. They had much to discuss and determine.
"What's everyone thinking?" Steve asked with a hint of reluctance.
"SHIELD is falling apart," Bruce said with a heavy sigh, as he slumped into the nearest chair. "It's eating itself from the inside out. Honestly, I'm not sure we can stop it."
"I'm not sure we should," Tony said with an easy shrug.
"They do good, you know," Steve argued.
"So can we," Tony countered.
"We can and we do," Steve returned, "but even with your resources, with all of our skills together, we can't compete with them as an organization. We'll never have that same pull."
"And we shouldn't," Bruce nodded in agreement.
"I will not accept that the answer is to allow this purge to continue," Thor said evenly, but the anger was there, hidden smoothly behind his visage. "They have attacked us in our home. We cannot allow that slight to go unanswered or they will come again."
"The problem is that we don't know who is pulling the strings," Tony said, becoming exasperated, because Thor was right. This could not be ignored. They'd been over and over this issue since Barton's death. They'd been going in circles. They'd been kept busy and distracted and they couldn't afford to be any longer. "Aside from everyone in SHIELD to exclude like... four people."
"I think that whole Counter Intelligence division is a good starting place," Steve said as he gave his head a shake. "Agent Campbell brought in Clint for questioning back in LA and they were shadowing us when we were out looking for Natasha."
"Didn't Hill have Campbell busted down to piss-boy for that?" Tony asked out of curiosity.
"Glorified piss-boy," Maria answered for herself as she stepped off the elevator, "but it didn't take. He's already climbed back up the ladder and is currently sitting in the number three spot in CI."
"How are you, Maria?" Pepper asked, taking in her appearance and the knowledge of what had happened earlier in the night.
"I'm fine," she answered, tacking on, "thank you," at the end, as she moved into the impromptu circle they'd created in the room and crossed her arms definitely.
"She kicked that guy's ass," Tony smiled good-naturedly as he went to make everyone a drink. "The real show was after."
Maria froze, she was at a complete loss as her mind went straight to the altercation in the stairwell, and Steve was really no better. He was still confused about her sudden change of attitude and trying to piece together what he'd said that was so wrong. Or maybe it hadn't been anything he'd said; maybe she'd just figured out where he was going with it and cut him short on purpose.
When the silence continued to stretch across the room, Pepper looked from Steve to Maria before her eyes found Tony.
"Could Campbell be behind this?" Bruce asked, helpfully deflecting attention and redirecting everyone back to the matter at hand.
"Not enough pull," Maria admitted after clearing her throat. "Although, he's more than likely a part of this... movement. Morse suspected him, he was the main reason she changed divisions, but she doesn't think he's reporting to Director Chander."
"Out of curiosity, how many directors are there in SHIELD?" Tony asked pausing mid-task.
"Eight," Maria answered. "One per division."
"WSC members?" Bruce inquired, knowing it was rare to get information so freely.
"Five."
"Does Director Fury have a plan?" Steve asked, ready to cut to the chase.
"Yes," Maria nodded, looking directly at him for the first time since she'd come into the room, "but he's not ready to share it yet."
"Meaning he's planning on going it alone," Steve correctly interpreted.
"He thinks if he further involves any of you it would compromise your overall mission," Maria confirmed.
"Too late," Tony shrugged, returning with a tray and holding it out to each of them in turn to take a glass. "We're involved."
"Which is why he wants to keep you from being further involved," Maria stressed.
"You agree with that?" Steve asked pointedly.
"No."
"How's Morse feel?" Bruce asked, taking the glass of water poured specifically for him from the tray Tony held out.
"She isn't saying but if body language is any indicator... she's not entirely onboard with his plan either."
For a minute or two they were all silent, sipping their drinks, and mulling the situation over.
"Okay," Tony finally said, setting down his glass as he leaned against the sofa. "This is what we're going to do: Tomorrow morning we're calling up Morse. We need to know everything we can about these cover-ups, these cremations. We have no choice; we have to trust her. She's right, statistically something is way off with those deaths. Sitwell's into computers, right?" he asked Maria, who nodded in return. "Good. We'll need to get him pulling everything he can from personnel records. Movements. Shipments. Transfers. Anything out of place."
"That's kind of vague," Bruce added skeptically.
"Kind of?" Maria questioned. It was downright impossible.
"We need to know who these other potential victims were," Tony continued. "He'll need to check with Morse; see what she's already got. Something bigger is off here and I have a feeling he'll know it when he sees it. Hill, you've done some looking into Campbell... Take another look. If he's even a little involved, his associations might be the key."
"What are we going to do?" Steve asked, more than ready to be part of this.
"You... I don't know," Tony admitted with a smirk, "but Bruce, Thor and I are going on a trip."
"Excuse me?" Bruce questioned, eyebrow raised and looking extremely wary.
"It's three in the morning," Jane said with a frown.
"I know," Tony agreed gleefully. "Perfect time."
"For what?" Bruce continued to press, getting to his feet.
"Fury said we needed to bust Tasha out so, why wait?"
"Are you serious?" Steve said, looking uneasy, but not nearly as uneasy as Bruce.
"Of course he's serious," Bruce answered. "He's insane."
"Is this an attack?" Thor joined in, stepping forward eagerly.
"Let's hope not," Tony said, holding up his glass in salute.
"You want us to go down their geared up and expect them to not think we're attacking?" Steve asked, sipping his drink for no real reason other than it was in his hand. It had zero effect but he needed something to keep him occupied in the moment. Bruce had a point; Tony was insane.
"Not geared up," Tony corrected with extreme exasperation. "And not you, remember? Just me, Bruce and Thor. Thor and I will wait outside, just in case, and Bruce will go in and ask nicely if Tasha can come out and play."
"And if they say no?" Maria asked indifferently, her own drink already half finished. It had been a long day.
"I think..." Bruce said, his face momentarily lighting up, "I think Tony's on to something here."
"You just called him insane," Steve pointed out.
"Apparently it's contagious," Bruce shrugged.
Fifteen minutes later Tony was back in the limo with Bruce and Thor this time and the three of them were being driven out to the Helicarrier.
"She may not come," Bruce said, shaking his head and growing worried. Not about going in and gaining access, but about what would happen after that. "Tony, she's not... she may not be ready to come back with us."
"You'll convince her," Tony said easily.
"Have faith," Thor said, echoing his sentiment.
Bruce wished it was that easy.
Once there, Tony and Thor stood out by the car and watched as Bruce fumbled momentarily with his credentials and made his way onto the ship. It was easy going, at first. No one stopped or questioned him. It was exactly the same as it always was, only later in the night, or more technically much earlier in the day than his typical trip.
It wasn't until he reached the final desk to the retention cells that he was stopped by Agent West.
"Dr. Banner," the man said getting to his feet and Bruce noted that he kept one hand under his desk. "We weren't expecting you."
"No, I'm sure you weren't but I'm allowed twenty-four hour access."
"Yes, sir, but..."
"Something wrong?" Bruce asked, stepping closer to the glass partition that separated the two of them.
"No," the agent said, shaking his head rapidly as he took a tiny step back. "It's just... Agent Romanoff..."
"What about her?"
"She's... she's scheduled to be transferred this morning. You weren't expected... Um..."
"Well, there's been a change of plans," Bruce returned. "She's actually being transferred right now. By me. So, if you would just take your hand off of that alarm you've got hidden under your desk and open up her cell, I'd appreciate your cooperation."
"I can't, sir. I have orders."
"Yes, I suppose you do," Bruce said, looking down and shaking his head. "But there's something you're not quite understanding. One way or another, I am going to get what I want. Now, I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to hurt anyone. But I will leave here with Agent Romanoff. How that happens, Agent West, is entirely up to you."
"I...I... Of course you're allowed in, Dr. Banner. Of course you are," he said, placing both his hands on the desk for Bruce to see before reaching up and keying in the correct code allowing him access.
"Thank you," Bruce said, giving him a curt nod and heading through the doors down to Natasha's cell.
He knocked first, because it was very late, but she answered almost immediately, without surprise, and invited him in.
"Bruce?" she said, sitting up and stifling a yawn. "What's happened?"
"A lot," he answered, looking around her room for anything he could find to hold her belongings. "You need to get up and get moving. Right now, Natasha. We're leaving."
"I know where they're taking me," she said, resolutely staying put. "It's for the best."
"How do you know?" Bruce sighed, taking a seat and dropping the duffel bag he'd just picked up.
"The guards here... they're not very good," she shrugged. "When I took my walk today, I heard them talking. I should have been taken there to begin with."
"No."
"It's where I belong."
"Then... You know what? We'll both go. Maybe you're right. When they come for you, they can take me away too. I won't fight. I won't even argue. They'll get a real bargain. Two for one."
"Don't mock me."
"I'm not," he argued with feigned indignation. "I mean it. Why fight?" Natasha groaned at him in annoyance and rubbed at her eyes with the palms of her hands. "They're not locking you up because they've decided you're a hopeless case, Tasha," Bruce continued after they'd both settled their emotions some. "They're doing it because they're done using you and they want you out of the way. They don't want you well. They don't want you helping us, or Fury, or yourself."
"You don't know -"
"They came for Agent Hill tonight," he interrupted impatiently. "In her home. But it wasn't to arrest her. They came to silence her. Permanently." Bruce waited for it to sink in. He waited to be certain she was really hearing what he was saying. "We need you."
Natasha stared at him then got to her feet, resigned, and grabbed her boots.
"Just take the books and the music box," she instructed as she laced up her shoes and reached for her jacket. "Nothing else here matters."
Bruce did as he was asked, giving only a passing thought to how Clint's copy of Watership Down had made it to her, and within moments they were ready to go.
Agent West wasn't at his post when they walked out of the ward, but he hadn't locked them in either. In fact, the entire route out of the Helicarrier was surprisingly void of personnel.
"Finally," Tony said as soon as he saw them. "I was about to send in the cavalry," he finished, motioning towards Thor.
"Yes, well, let's not hang out longer than we need to," Bruce intoned.
Bruce thrust the bag into Tony's hand and crawled into the car after him, serious about them needing to speed things up. The lack of agents crawling all over the place had only unsettled him. Natasha however, upon seeing Thor, stopped as if the whole event was crashing down around her again.
"I carry no ill will," Thor assured her solemnly, extending her his hand and waiting patiently for her to take it.
"Thank you," she said, unusually quiet and unable to take her eyes from the ground, even as she took his hand and allowed Thor's assistance.
"Do we have a plan?" Thor asked as they approached the building.
"No," Tony admitted. "Well, sort of. We will. And hey, worse comes to worse, we can hold up in the Tower for at least another year. It's practically impenetrable."
"We're still not sure what we're up against," Bruce said, shutting his eyes and beginning to feel the strain of the day, a day which almost started a full twenty-four hours ago for him, wear him thin.
"What's changed so drastically?" Natasha asked. She still felt so distant from all of this, but she was trying. She was really trying to be there and participate. She wanted to care, which is more than she'd wanted anything in the past several months other than the one thing she couldn't have.
"We've got a lot to tell you," Tony non-answered as they all got out of the car and headed for the elevator. "But... tomorrow. Let's try and get some sleep."
"No," Natasha said, shaking her head. "Now. Let's start now.
Bruce set up in the conference room as Tony ran down, more or less, all of the new information they had for Natasha.
It wasn't much but he hoped to soon have more.
"Okay," Bruce said as he clapped his hands together and looked at Tony. "We're ready here so..."
"So this is where I leave," he nodded in agreement as he made to exit. "Good luck."
Neither Bruce nor Natasha responded, they both just waited until he was gone before each taking a seat.
"I had hard copies made," Bruce said, indicating the plain manila envelope in his hands. "We know digital images work but I thought you could see these better." When Natasha's only response was the slightest of nods, he continued, "These first four are parts of the image. We were hoping you might recognize them individually. That we could use these to get a better idea of what is causing these triggers." He slid the photos out onto the table, facedown, and left it up to her to reveal.
Natasha flipped them over one at a time and her expression remained blank throughout. She gave each image a long look but Bruce couldn't see any flash of awareness until the very last one was in her hands.
"I've seen this before," she said, indicating the last photo; the one of the machine. "In the rooms. I don't know exactly what they did or how they worked but... but they used them in the programming."
"What do you think it means?"
"Same thing you're thinking," she answered. "That part of the trigger was about needing to be reprogrammed."
"Nothing else?"
"Well," she sighed, wishing she did have more, "this opera house is familiar." Natasha picked up the photo of the framed photograph in the room. "Saint Petersburg, yes?"
"Mariinsky Theatre," he confirmed. "You're right. But you don't know what it could mean? What it's supposed to tell you?"
Natasha shook her head, indicating a 'no', but said quietly, "The show is over."
Bruce nodded and looked at the other photos left. The shadow and the vase of flowers. He'd done his own research, a little of it at least.
"Do you know what lavender flowers stand for?"
"I didn't know flowers had opinions," she said, obviously avoiding him.
"It's interesting," he continued, smiling slightly at her as he did so. "It can mean both devotion or distrust." Natasha shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "Do you know what heather stands for?"
"Solitude," she answered immediately with icy indifference.
"Purple, yes. White actually means protection. What do you think these meant?"
"I don't know."
"Take a guess."
"If I was guessing," she sighed, disquieted by his knowledge and her own, "I would say that it was a warning. A call for protection against someone close that should not be trusted."
"How are you feeling?"
"Anxious," she admitted because it was true, as she sat up straighter and stretched her neck. Natasha didn't feel any sense of danger, like she had before, but she did feel something. It was like waiting for a storm to break. It worried her, it made her uneasy, what was to come next, but at the same time she'd rather just get on with it.
Bruce took out the last photograph, the complete picture, and slid it facedown towards her across the table.
"When you're ready."
Natasha met his eyes and nodded, prepared for the worst but when she finally flipped the image over all she felt was surprise. How did she forget that Phil had been in the picture? Had she ever really seen him properly or had she simply read the silent clues and acted?
She didn't know.
Whatever power the image had held was gone. It was as Bruce had suspected it to be. The image, no longer new to her, no longer had the same sway.
Natasha picked the photo up and examined it closer but felt nothing like she had before. Certainly a few things tugged at her psyche, but it was the same images Bruce had just shown her. The opera house. The flowers. The machine. It was familiar and distant and altogether, this time, her attention was more on Phil than anything else.
"Is this real?" she asked and no sooner than the question slipped from her lips, she flinched. Unbidden images of Clint and the night he'd shown her this very thing were in her head. He'd asked the same thing of her never suspecting...
"Tasha?" Bruce asked cautiously.
"I'm... It's not..." she stammered, which evidently put him more at ease. Bruce put his hand over hers and waited. "I'm sorry. That's what he wanted from me. He wanted to know if I thought this was real or not and... I didn't remember that until now. Tried not to remember it at least."
"The image isn't altered," he answered after giving her another moment to pull herself together. "There's debate as to whether or not it's actually Agent Coulson in the photo."
"If it isn't him," Natasha said as she checked the image again, "it's a damn good double."
"Let's take a break," Bruce said, getting to his feet and feeling impossibly tired. "We can talk more... well, it's already morning," he said checking his watch. "We can talk more later today."
"I'm fine."
"I'm not," he said firmly. "I need a few hours of sleep and..."
Natasha nodded in understanding but was hesitant to move. She didn't want to go back to her old room. She had nowhere to go that felt safe inside the Tower.
"I have a spare room," he offered, finally understanding her reluctance. "You're welcome to it. It's not as fancy as your cell on the Helicarrier, but it's got a bed and window. How about it?"
"Thank you."