"Alright, alright, alright!"
Tony pumped his fist in the air, and turned to the power point presentation behind him.
"This presentation was sent to me by our friends at the United Nations. Why? We gotta mission!"
"Finally!" Peter exclaimed, leaning back in his seat.
The Avengers had been sitting around for a while, doing practically nothing. They joked around, played board games, and watched movies . . . Although those sort of things were fun, they wanted to get out in the field again.
"What's the mission?" Natasha asked.
"It's a hostage situation."
"Like last time?"
"No, this one is a little different. We're stopping a crime against humanity."
"Good," Natasha said, followed by a murmur of agreement from Peter, Jessica, Rhodey, and Vision.
"Let's get started! Okay, so here" Tony changed the slide "Is a map of Paris."
"Paris?"
"Yes, Jessica. Calm down! Anyway, under the calm and might I add romantic, Paris has got a little bit of a problem. Under the light and cheery atmosphere is a human trafficking ring, and the spies have finally located the leader. Our mission is to get the leader, Francis LaMoreau, and to free the –um—" Tony switched the slide "One hundred and seventy girls in one location, and the three hundred in another."
"My god," Peter muttered.
He turned to Jessica, whose eyes were widened with grief. The idea of hundreds of girls being stolen and forced into the sex-trade was almost unbearable. Although Peter's life got difficult at some points, when he thought about girls all over the world being imprisoned, it made him extremely grateful for his loving family.
"These girls are locked away into cells which they believe are located in the sewers of Paris, which, as you can probably guess, are very unclean and healthy. Quite frankly, I wouldn't be surprised if they were dying like this—" Tony said softly, snapping his fingers quickly.
"These girls are chained to their beds," Natasha added "And are fed very little. They're physically and sexually abused by their captors, and their clients."
"Where are these girls coming from?" Vision asked.
"The United Nations thinks that most of them are from Greece, Hungary, France, and possibly Iran."
"That's kinda random."
"It's an educated guess. These girls were runaways or were just talking to the wrong people on the internet. They figured out who Francis LaMoreau's henchmen's online aliases were, so they're guessing based off of you they were talking to."
"So what do we do?"
"Natasha, Vision, and Jessica are dealing with Francis LaMoreau and his men. There are a couple dozen of them, and they've managed to get their hands on some—well—dangerous weapons."
Natasha chuckled at the thought of them being held up by dangerous weapons. They were the Avengers, the Earth's Mightiest Heroes. No machine guns could stop them.
"I wouldn't be laughing, Natasha. These guys have got some bombs."
"Are you serious?"
"Unfortunately, yes. That's where Petey and I come in."
"Hey! Don't call me that!" Peter commented.
"Haha nice try. Luckily, I know a thing or two about bombs and explosives, so Peter and I are going to try to destroy them."
"Didn't Peter once accidentally make a bomb?" Vision question (See Chapter Four.)
"Did you seriously have to remind me?" Peter complained.
"Concentrate, guys! Concentrate! So we're going to fly out to Paris tomorrow. I want you all to be ready to go at four thirty in the morning. Our plane leaves forty five minutes later."
"Aye, aye Captain!"
Jessica and Peter jumped from their chairs, and dashed out. Natasha, who had an enormous frown plastered on her face, followed shortly afterward. Vison phased through the wall, which made Tony flinch. Hell, he'd never get used to that.
"You okay, man?" he asked Rhodey, who'd been fairly quiet during the meeting.
"Are you sure Jessica's ready?"
"Uh, yeah. She's really been kicking ass in training lately. If I didn't know any better, I'd say she's starting to catch up with Peter."
Rhodey sighed deeply.
"I'm glad that she's getting used to her—abilities, but she's still my little girl, and I don't think she's ready to be out on the streets of Paris, fighting off a ton of human traffickers."
Tony tilted his head to the side, considering what Rhodey had said. In a way, he could sympathize with what his friend was feeling. Tony didn't have any children, but Peter was pretty close to one. The thought of Peter getting hurt was horrifying, so he could understand what Rhodey was going through.
"I wish I could go with her," Rhodey muttered deeply, the pain evident in his voice "I wish I could get out of this damn wheel chair and fight!"
He put his head in his hands, and groaned. Tony frowned. He wasn't the loving and cuddly type, so he wasn't sure how to console his friend.
"Hey, hey," he finally said "We can work on some different types of therapy, and see if there's something we can do. I've been working on some prototypes and—"
"Just get ready for the mission, Tony. People are counting on you."
Peter wadded up a shirt and threw it into his suitcase. He wasn't much of a packer, so his suitcases were usually filled with a mess of unorganized clothing. Also, he didn't know exactly what to pack. Yes, his uniform. Yes, his toothbrush and toothpaste. Other than that, he wasn't sure. He tossed a Coldplay shirt on the suitcase, followed by a pair of tattered jeans.
"Hello?"
He turned to see Jessica standing in the doorway, grasping two cans of orange soda.
"Here ya go."
She handed one to Peter, who accepted it gratefully.
"What's up?" he asked, popping the lid of his soda open "You finished packing?"
"Nah, I haven't even started . . . Look, I heard something, and I need your help."
"Sure."
"You see, when I was leaving the conference room, I heard James and Tony talking. James is upset that I'm going, and that he can't come to protect me . . . He's frustrated that he's stuck in a wheel chair."
"I—uh—get that. It must be hard."
"Peter, I know what you've been up to."
"Wh—What?"
"I looked through your notebook, the one you're always writing in. You're researching the human spine and nervous system."
"Y—yeah."
"You're obviously working on some kind of a chip, something that you implant where the spine was damaged . . . something for James. I want to help."
Peter looked around nervously as if he was afraid someone was eavesdropping.
"Here's the thing . . . I don't know if it'll work. I've never tested it out, and if it goes wrong, a ton of shitty stuff will happen."
Jessica grinned, and sat down on the floor next to Peter. She took a sip out of her soda can, then sighed contentedly.
"We'll just have to work on that then. The Avengers needs War Machine. We're already short on member, especially after the—you know—"
"F—fine. It's better to try than do nothing at all."
"Uh, do or do not, there is no try!"
Peter and Jessica both laughed.
"Your bag is mess," Jessica commented, gesturing to his suitcase.
"I know, I know. I'm working on that."
"Better hurry up. We're leaving early in the morning, and you'll need some rest."
"Thanks, mom."
Jessica jumped to her feet, and took another swig out of her can.
"See you later, Parker."
Their flight was a bumpy one. Some strong winds made the plane ride slightly uncomfortable, and, much to Peter's chagrin, impossible to sleep on. He tossed and turned restlessly for the first hour until Jessica offered to let him watch episodes of The OC, her favorite show.
After several hours of watching Ryan Atwood and Seth Cohan's drama filled lives, the plane set down in Paris, France. Peter squirmed with excitement. He'd been to Germany with Tony before, but he'd never been to France. Aunt May always desired to go to the City of Love, which made Peter wish he could've taken his Aunt on this spontaneous trip to the beautiful place.
They drove to a fancy hotel, where they were ushered in. A few paparazzi lurked around the sides of the building, taking a few shots of Tony. Of course, Tony smirked, and non-chalantly posed for them. Natasha rolled her eyes, and Jessica giggled.
Once they settled in their rooms, Tony had them all gather in the main living space of his suite.
"This is kind lavish, don't ya think?" Jessica asked, gesturing to the room "It doesn't really strike me as an undercover mission HQ."
"You know Tony," Natasha replied "He's an extremely lavish person."
"How will the guys we're trying to stop know we're not here? There were some paparazzi right outside the hotel for crying out loud!"
Tony shrugged.
"They don't know we're coming for them. Calm down, and let's go over our plan one last time."
"My god, it smells down here!"
"Well, it is the sewer, so this shouldn't be surprising."
"Guys, we can here you," a voice called from the earpieces in Peter and Tony's ears.
"Sorry, Black Widow," Peter replied, adjusting his grip on the wall.
He was climbing on the ceiling of a long, circular catacomb under the streets of Paris. Tony trudged through the murky sewage below him, almost faster than Peter was crawling.
"Wait up, Tony! You gotta slow down."
"We're almost there, and we don't have all day."
Peter nodded. He resisted the urge to gag. His spidey senses were useful and all, but in situation like this, the overwhelming smell and tingling sensation at the tip of his nose was almost unbearable.
"We're here!"
Right up ahead, the liquidy sewage stopped, and there, sitting on a platform, was an enormous wooden crate.
"Is that it?"
Tony stepped up onto the platform, and banged on the box with his metal glove.
"It's just wood," he called.
With the power of his Iron Man suit, Tony ripped the lid off, and looked inside. There, sitting inside, was the bomb. Peter dropped down next to Tony, and peered in also.
"Damn. That's a lot bigger than I thought it would be."
"What'd you expect?"
"I don't know, Tony. Something smaller?"
Tony laughed bitterly.
"Well, this ain't a pressure cooker bomb."
"Let's just get to work, okay?"
Natasha sprung up from the ground, and kicked her assailant right behind his knees. Of course, the man crumbled to the ground, screaming in pain. Jessica swung up behind her on a strand of thread, and shot another thread to circle around his eyes.
"Clever," Natasha muttered as she charged the next man. This one held an enormous machine gun in his hands, and started firing it at her. Instead of running away or cowering, the highly trained assassin kept coming. Surprisingly, a few bullets bounced off her sleek, tight fitted uniform, and she jumped up to dodge a few others. The man cussed in French, his eyes wide open in shock. Natasha slid up to him, and hit him with her fist, knocking him to the ground.
"Oh the suit? I upgraded it," she told his body sassily, heading towards her next victim.
Behind her, Vision sent a shockingly bright beam out of the stone of his forehead, and onto a woman, who dropped to the ground at contact.
Jessica dropped to the ground, and sent out two strands of web, and wrapped them skillfully around another woman's two pistols. The guns flew towards Jessica, who grabbed them, and started shooting them at the people who charged her. When they ran out of bullets, she flung them at a man, who grasped a hunting knife in his hand.
It was dark, almost impossible to see, but the sewage was low. The only form of light they had was the light of Vision's stone, and the torches a few of the henchmen held in their grasps. Jessica's spidey senses helped her see in the dark, so taking down villains wasn't an issue for her.
"Spiderwoman!"
Jessica swung around to see Natasha, surrounded by at least six people. She seemed to be taking care of them, but Jessica decided to web a couple of them up.
"Thanks," the assassin called, wiping a piece of red hair out of her face.
Natasha kicked one last person, and dragged him to the ground.
"We did it!" Jessica called, raising her hands into the air "We did it!"
Vision landed next to her, a small smile playing across his lips. Natasha stood up, and placed her hands on her hips. She was breathing heavily, and then kicked at some of the sewage at her feet.
"Whew," she murmured.
"Wait . . ." Jessica called, pointing towards the end of the tunnel.
"Oh shit!"
"Hand me the screw driver," Tony murmured.
Peter quickly stuck his hand into the tool box, and pulled it out.
"Thanks."
Tony unscrewed the bolts, and removed a metal plate that was sitting over all the wiring. He frowned, and grabbed a pair of plyers. Peter watched him nervously, glancing behind him every so often to make sure no one was behind them.
The whole concept of Jessica, Natasha, and Vision distracting the guards of the bomb worked . . . There was no one in sight. Still, Peter wanted to be sure, especially since they were dealing with a weapon of mass destruction.
"Damn all this wires," Tony exclaimed, tinkering around.
"Are they color coded?"
"Yeah, but they're red and blue, not red and yellow."
"Cut the blue wire then. It's replacing the yellow."
"We don't know that. This is an illegally made bomb made by back alley people. We don't know what they did."
"C'mon, Tony. We have to hurry!"
"Let me look and see where they are all connected it. Maybe that'll help."
"Fine."
Tony stuck both of his hands in the bomb, and pushed some of the wires to the side.
"Be careful!"
"I am being careful!"
He sighed dramatically, and leaned back.
"What's wrong?"
Tony suddenly leaned towards the bomb again, and pulled all of the wires.
"What're you doing?" Peter yelled.
There was silence.
Nothing.
"See? Nothing happened!" Tony exclaimed.
"How the hell did you know?"
"Like I said, this bomb was made by back alley people. Of course they would've made it cheaply. The real question is how are we gonna get this big boy out of here?"
"If it's cheaply made, just push it into all this . . . crap," Peter said, gesturing towards the brown, gross-looking liquid.
"That'll do."
With that, Tony pushed the crate off the platform, and into the muck. They watched it slowly fill up, the goo seeping through the cracks.
"We did it, son."
Peter nodded slowly, watching the box sink lower and lower. Tony raised his hand, and sent a beam towards the box. It sizzled.
"Just making sure," he whispered "Now let's get the hell out of here!"
Jessica shot another strand of thread, and pulled the man it attached itself to towards her. He flailed like a little baby, thrashing and kicking her. She sighed, and twisted his arm, making him shriek in pain.
Ahead of her, Vision and Natasha were taking out people left and right. Still, several more men and women, armed with guns and knives came at them. She didn't feel overwhelmed to the point of where she wanted to sit down and stop fighting, but her heart was banging in her chest, and a little knot of fear bubbled in her stomach.
"Natasha, where's Francis?" she called, watching a man charge her.
She pointed her wrist from the ceiling, and shot some web, swinging upwards just before the man got to her. She then kicked him in the head, then lowered herself again.
"I don't know!" Natasha called back, straddling a man's shoulders. She hit his head repeatedly with her fists, trying to get him to stop attempting to get her off him.
Suddenly, she heard a loud, resounding bang come from behind her.
"Mind if we join the party?" a familiar voice called.
"We had this!" Natasha hollered at the billionaire.
Tony laughed, and shot a few beams out of his hands. Peter followed suit, and started webbing several henchmen alongside Jessica.
"Enjoying your first mission?" Peter asked, leaping next to his friend.
"What the hell do you think?"
They both laughed.
All of them together collectively took out the rest of the people. Obviously, it took a great deal of work, but they finally disabled every one of the people that attacked them.
"Damn," Tony muttered, staring down at one of the people.
"Where's Francis?" Peter asked slowly, looking around at all the people "He's one of these guys, right?"
Natasha and Jessica looked at each other and then away, unsure of what to say. They'd seen pictures of Francis before they came here, but neither of them remembered fighting a man of his description. Vision frowned, and also said he didn't remember seeing someone that looked like Francis LaMoreau.
"Are you sure?" Tony question, turning towards Natasha, who shrugged.
"I would've recognized him," she told him "He's not here."
"Where is he then?" Tony exclaimed, walking through the pile of people in the sewer.
He knelt down to a woman who had a black eye. She coughed, and struggled to sit up. A wisp of black hair fell into her eyes. She glared up a Tony, her eyes full of fear.
"Where is Francis LaMoreau?"
"I—I don't know," she replied in a heavy French accent.
Tony sighed, and shook his head.
"It's a shame you don't. I was thinking your sentence could be lessened if you helped us out, but apparently not," he told her, patting her on the shoulder "It's gonna be a hefty sentence for your crimes against humanity."
The woman looked down at her lap, and then back up at Tony.
"He's not here," she said blandly, her eyes sullen "He left an hour before you came. He said he had business to attend to. He did not tell us what."
Tony nodded.
"Thank you."
He then turned to his fellow Avengers.
"Looks like we're done here. The Paris Police should be arriving soon."
"What now?" Peter asked.
"We have to find Francis LaMoreau."
A/N:
I am so sorry, guys! Life got busy, and I wasn't able to write as much I feel so bad that I've neglected this story! However, school is starting officially tomorrow, and I'll have a permanent schedule, which means I'll be able to set aside time specifically for writing. Hopefully, I'll be updating all my stories more often.
As you can see, I ended this chapter with a cliff hanger. The next chapter will be concerning the capture of Francis LaMoreau. I'm thinking he might appear a few times in the upcoming chapters. Maybe like an arch enemy for the Avengers . . . I don't know. We'll have to see.
I also am writing a somewhat fluffy chapter for Vision. I haven't written about him much, but he's a fascinating guy! Hopefully, I'll add that chapter soon.
Thank you for reading! Please don't be afraid to follow/favorite/review! Those are three of my favorite things.
Once again, THANK YOU!
Much Love,
gotmoreissuesthanvogue